The Hesitant Knife

The Knife was lent to him by his slaymaster, who told him it was crafted long before by a man called "He-of-Red-and-Rum". It was also well-known among everyone in the school as the "Craven Knife", a practitioner's tool, as anyone who has been known to have handled it have not been capable of killing.

He held the Knife in his breast, and his tormentor's gaze shifted to it. All around, students were laughing. He thought they must have been thinking how brazenly foolish he must be to take out that repulsive, blunt weapon (if one can call it that) for everyone to see. But of course he alone know the secret that powers the Knife.

"Knife, let your cut be true this day," he recited silently. "Blade, I commit to your purpose. Hilt, drive my will to your own. I am one with your intent." Then it is done.

"Praying your last, coward?" his great bully said. "Good. I will end you here. You were never meant to be a slayman. The Guild is wrong to pick you. You can never kill."

Time to know, he said to himself. He was curious to carry out his first...