#edited this post bc its my pinned | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astro-nomaly · 2 months ago

Text

Sword and Shield: Armor (Greenflower)

Jfc okay sorry if this crashes anyone's feed bc this monster is like. almost 10k. Could I have used the time spent on this to write another TKaL chapter? Okay yeah, but the people have needs.

Anyways for context: this is a non-canon spin-off of my Greenflower AU Sword and Shield (which you can find more stuff about under the tag 'Sword and Shield' and a first draft of chapter 1 on my pinned post). Basically, what if Wu didn't manage to steal Lloyd back from Garmadon, and Garmadon succeeded in using his son's element to conquer half of Ninjago. Btw if you're a fan of Garm this is not for you sorry he's a dick here. This is barely edited I literally just finished it like 10 minutes ago and spellchecked. so. there's that. @highbookwormofthecentury @mother-spore-missa and flirty anon, my love, this is for you. Content under the cut

CW: kidnapping(?), blood, murder, an animal gets shot, and like. living weapon. also ella enchanted style orders that Lloyd is NOT chill with

His boots clicked against the floor quietly, eerie in the near-silent halls. Emperor Garmadon's palace - fortress, really - was darkness given physical form. Every inch of the place seemed to leech any warmth or light and crush it. The only light in the dark, oppressive halls were the flickering purple torches lining black stone. Every few feet, there was another tapestry hung on the walls, depicting gory, divine retribution from the castle's ruler.

The ruler he was here to kill.

Well- okay, Brad may just be thinking that to sound cooler than he is. The Elemental Masters would be the ones assassinating 'Emperor' Garmadon. Brad was here on a spy's mission - collect any information he could about the Oni Emperor and the going-ons of his Keep, and report back to the resistance.

He paused in the hall, eyes drawn to one tapestry in particular. Emperor Garmadon had a love for showcasing his more gory victories, but this tapestry in particular wasn't violent at all - at least, out of context it wasn't.

The Oni Demigod - skin of obsidian, horns of a demon with the sharp teeth to match, white rune-like tattoos lining his dark skin - stood high on a precipice. A cape as black as night flowed behind him, eclipsing the sun itself. He wore a dramatic suit of armor, which Brad was pretty sure was just for show. The Demigod of Destruction was immortal, and practically invincible to boot.

The real star of the tapestry was held in the Emperor's upper set of hands, however: the Sword of Sanctuary. Brad hadn't ever seen it in person - good thing, too. These days, it was the last thing anyone ever saw - but the tapestry painted a pretty picture, accurate to the tales he'd heard since childhood. Its blade seemed to be carved from the sun itself, shining with all the hues of the waning and rising sun. A magnificent golden hilt boasted glimmering green diamonds, too ethereal to be simple emeralds.

Brad's throat felt tight just looking at it. That was the weapon that enabled Garmadon to take over as much of Ninjago as he had. It was more than a pretty blade. It came with a horrible, devastating power, capable of reducing entire cities to rubble. 50 years ago, the Oni Demigod arrived from the First Realm, previously a place of myth. With him, he brought his Oni army, beings with four arms and the ability to shape-shift. If it hadn't been for his brother, the Dragon Demigod of Creation, Wu, Ninjago would have been doomed.

As it was, only a few months in to the invasion, Garmadon procured the Sword. No one knew where it came from but Wu and his tight-knit group of Elemental Masters. Any hope of facing Garmadon head-on was dashed, and a rebellion was started underground.

Brad was lucky enough to have grown up there. Now, he was sent into the Keep to spy on the Emperor.

It hadn't been a hard decision. He was one of the few capable, able-bodied people the resistance could spare, and he was plain-looking enough to fly under the radar. He had the skills to pass as a servant, and after a few dedicated months of training in stealth and martial arts, he was about as ready as he could hope to be. He was certainly no Spinjitzu master, but he could hold his own against another normal human.

He reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the shining tapestry, turning back to the cold halls. He hefted the laundry basket he carried, footsteps clicking once more on cold, cold stone.

Only a few minutes later, he paused again. The servant's halls in some parts of the Keep were hidden away in private, where the Emperor and his noble playthings and generals wouldn't have to see the lowly mortals. One such hall contained a side door to the Emperor's throne room. Just beyond the thick iron, slightly ajar, Brad could hear people talking. On a whim, he set the basket down. If he was to get any information, he'd have to get close to Garmadon somehow.

He stepped inside, taking care to keep himself small and inconspicuous. A man, wearing torn clothes and face bruised, was held at spear-point on the floor by two bored-looking guards. One of them spotted Brad, acknowledging his servant's uniform. The Emperor had a strange obsession with more traditional clothing, so Brad was stuck in beige and white linens inscribed with the Oni's insignia. As a child, he used to burn flags bearing that crest.

The guard, a man with a scratchy chin beard, jerked his head at Brad. "You, stay there. Someone's gonna need ta' clean this up," he jerked his spear at the cowering man with a sneer. Brad swallowed thickly, bowing his shortly, despite the disgust curdling in his gut from showing any respect to the Emperor's lackeys.

"Yes, sir."

Brad backed up against the wall, blending in with the shadows. He wanted to help the cowering man, but he couldn't risk his entire mission on one person, no matter how much he wanted to.

The room remained eerily silent for several more minutes, the only noise produced by the guards' bored sighs and the old man's whimpering. Then, this… oppressive force, like a physical darkness, suddenly filled the room. Brad felt his lungs reflexively constrict, heart beating like it was being crushed beneath a brick. The guards stood to attention, eyes wide and jaws set to hide their own trembles.

A thick iron door, directly behind the bone-white and obsidian throne, opened to reveal Emperor Garmadon in all his glory.

The man was divine in every horrible sense of the word. Brad had glimpsed Wu, leader of their rebellion, a precious few times in his life, and even spoken directly to him before he'd embarked on this risky mission. The old man was a calm, comforting presence, full of warmth and wisdom. He appeared as an old man, giving off an almost grandfatherly presence.

Garmadon was the exact opposite.

The Oni stood at least eight feet tall, a hulking mass of muscle. Two sharp, devastating horns curved over his head like a built-in helm. His overly large torso compensated his four arms, thick hands ending in sharp black claws. White tattoos over his obsidian black skin made him all the more intimidating.

He swept into the room calmly, each step carrying the weight of an army. Sharp fangs, powerful enough to crush bone, poked from beneath his lips. He wore a suit of armor, dark with old, dried blood. Brad felt himself unconsciously pressing his back further into the wall, shaking from the presence of the most powerful Oni in the world. This was a man who had nearly single-handedly conquered most of Ninjago, and kept humans around only to play with. To rule over for his own satisfaction.

The man on the ground shrieked, skidding back. The guards held him in place, forcing him still. Garmadon looked supremely uninterested, lowering himself onto his throne. He crossed his legs, bored.

"Who…" the Emperor rumbled quietly, though it felt as though his voice carried for miles, "is this?"

The guard who had spoken previously cleared his throat. "A traitor, Emperor. Caught slipping soldier rations to rebels."

The man whimpered on the ground as Garmadon's glowing purple eyes, framed by black sclera, turned toward him. The Oni smirked coldly. "Is that so? Tsk… such things cannot go unpunished." He raised one arm lazily, not bothering to lift his elbow from its place on the bone-white armrest. A shimmering golden chain appeared from practically nothing, wrapped around the Oni's wrist.

All of the sudden, the iron door banged open once more. Brad watched, speechless, as a boy was dragged into the room by the same endless chain Garmadon held, reeled in by his wrists like a fish caught on a lure. He stopped just before the Emperor, head bowed as he breathed heavily, silently panting.

When he lifted his head, Brad felt his heart skip a beat.

He was… beautiful wasn't enough to describe it. He had skin like china, pale from too much time away from the sun, but healthy all the same. Long, golden hair was braided around his head, just enough left unbound to hang to his shoulders. His irises were a beautiful emerald green, shining in every shade Brad can think of. His pupils were shaped like miniature twinkling stars, golden. A strange golden pattern, almost like a tiara, was imprinted above his brows, golden crescents lining his eyes. A long, thick black and purple hanfu was wrapped around him like it was attempting to smother the golden glow he seemed to emanate from his very skin.

Brad swallowed, trying to force his voice to work again. Despite his beauty, almost divine, the boy was obviously miserable. His green eyes were flat, glossed over like he was entirely checked out. But a spark of defiance shone through the cracks, in the tick of his soft jaw and glint of fangs from his mouth, in the way his pointed ears were pinned to his head like a hissing cat's.

Garmadon didn't spare the decorated boy a glance. He continued to smirk down at the still trembling, but now very confused man. "Lloyd," Garmadon spoke softly, "tell me. What happens, when an Oni is deprived their meal?"

The boy - Lloyd - flicked his gaze over to the man. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the sorry sight. Then, they flattened again, destitute as he sighed quietly. "They become hungry," he whispered. His voice was like liquid gold, soft and honey-sweet.

Garmadon flashed his fangs in an imitation of a smile. "Yes. See, old man, my soldiers are hungry beings! When they're denied gratification, fighting begins to break out. I can't have those unfortunately stupid creatures tearing themselves apart, now. But fortunately…"

The Emperor stood from his throne smoothly, the golden chain in his hand dragging Lloyd to follow behind. The boy tugged at it, digging his feet into the floor, but the Oni didn't even seem to notice the boy's resistance. Brad twitched, instinctively trying to reach out for the boy.

Garmadon hummed, stooping down to meet the old man's eyes, his own glimmering with amusement. His lower set of hands folded behind his back, while the upper two pulled Lloyd to his side. He bared his teeth, amused at the way the man recoiled fearfully. "…they aren't very picky about where they get that food from."

The man spluttered, tears now streaming from his eyes. "P-please," he rasped, backing as far as he could get away from the Oni practically stalking him. "Please, no!"

Lloyd's eyes widened, a sheen of life returning to them. His lips formed a snarl as he faced Garmadon. "Stop it!" He yelled, pounding a fist against the Oni's armor. Brad gaped at the action, but Garmadon barely noticed. He only straightened, eyes never straying from the man even as Lloyd pounded against his armor, screaming louder and louder the longer the Emperor ignored him.

"Stop it!" Lloyd yelled, "fucking- stop it! Leave him alone!"

Garmadon held out his hand, almost bored. "I'm thinking… a battle axe. Now."

Lloyd's face contorted in an angry snarl as he burst out another scream. "You BASTARD-"

But he was cut off. Before Brad's eyes, the boy's skin warped and contorted as golden light shone from every inch of his body. In a single fluid motion, he was transformed. No longer a person, but a weapon. In Garmadon's four hands was a gigantic double-bladed battle axe, made of pure gold. It shone with every hue of the sunrise and sunset, a glowing green gem, too ethereal to come from the earth, set in the handle and between the two blades.

It was only due to his tightly clenched jaw that Brad didn't yell out in shock. In just a few split seconds, that boy had gone from a person to… to a…

Garmadon looked down upon the blade with ten times the attention he'd afforded Lloyd. "A weapon with a great many gifts," he said to the old man's awed expression. "One of which, your swift death. The one mercy I never could take from my son."

Brad immediately clenched his eyes shut, just in time to avoid seeing the sharp arc of the blade as it came down on the old man's neck. The mortal doesn't even have time to yell before his head rolls.

Brad keeps his eyes shut longer than necessary, trying to calm his racing heart. Already, the stench of blood fills the chamber. He keeps his head turned to the side, breathing through his mouth to avoid the scent.

He only opens his eyes when he hears light footsteps fall on the stone. The golden axe warps again, nauseating golds and greens blending together before Lloyd, human once more, drops to the ground. He's still screaming, resuming his curses right where he left off.

"-you piece of shit-!"

Garmadon raises an eye at Lloyd - at his son, Brad realizes - and Lloyd's face freezes. His yells cut themselves off as golden tears pool in his eyes. Globs of honey-gold poured down his cheeks as his chest hitched.

"Cease your crying."

And… he does. Immediately, those golden tears dry and dissipate before they can ever fall from his cheeks. Lloyd burns a glare into his father's armor, refusing to meet the Oni's gaze. "…I hate you," Lloyd gasps wetly, shaking from head to toe. "I fucking hate you."

Garmadon sighs, as though he's dealing with a toddler's temper tantrum. "Speak pleasantly or not at all."

Lloyd's lips seal shut. He continues glaring. With a roll of his eyes, Garmadon commands again, "stop glaring. Appear pleasant."

To Brad's horror, Lloyd's face slowly contorts, clearly against his own will, into a soft smile. His eyes soften as well, his nose unscrunches and his eyebrows rest evenly, no longer furrowed in fury. He looks like a doll for all the emotion present in his face. All except that glimmer of defiance.

Apparently content with his son's horrifying obedience, Garmadon lifts his gaze to the bleeding corpse of the old man. "Be rid of that thing," he commands, and sweeps out of the room with Lloyd reluctantly on his heels. The young teenager, no older than Brad himself, trails after his father with his head bowed, completely and utterly defeated.

Brad is left alone, commanded by the guards to clean up the blood and body in an order he barely registers.

Because Lloyd, the apparent son of Lord Garmadon - the son nobody knew existed - is- he's-

Lloyd is the Sword of Sanctuary. The Sword of Sanctuary is a person. And he's trapped here, against his will, forced to kill innocents with-

God. His own father was turning him into a weapon, and chopping people's heads off with him.

Brad swallowed, staring down the iron door the demigod apparent had disappeared into. "Sorry, Master Wu," he muttered, "but the assassination will have to wait."

No matter what, Brad was leaving this palace either with Lloyd in tow, or in a body bag.

Somehow, Brad manages to be in the dining hall. He swaps places with another servant, sending them off to do his own chores in a fake shift change, while he stands at attention in the corner, hands neatly folded behind his back.

Lord Garmadon sits at the head of the table, the back of his chair high as a throne. Directly to his right, Lloyd sits miserably, poking at his food. Any sign of fight had been drained dry.

Brad couldn't explain the way he wanted to reach out, to urge the demigod (was? He a demigod?? He looked the part-) to fight back. But… god, what was it like? Being turned into a literal weapon, being used to murder innocents for a sick man's entertainment?

He could still hardly believe it. The legendary Sword of Sanctuary, fearsome, all-powerful weapon of a borderline deity… was a human being.

Well… not exactly. Brad watched the way Lloyd's golden hair seemed to move in a breeze that affected no one else. Glimmering green gems imbedded in his chest shone like polished diamonds. The golden runes lining his cheekbones cast his face in a healthy golden glow. He was too divine to be a human being.

But he obviously had emotions regardless. Watching him, doe-like green eyes downcast as he blinked back shining tears, Brad's resolve only strengthened. He had taken this suicide mission to help people, right? He'd only ever wanted to help people.

Garmadon - bastard, Brad privately thought - looked down on his son from the corner of his dark eye. "Stop toying with your food," the demigod snapped, "and sit up straight."

Just like in the throne room, it was like a spell had been cast over the boy. Immediately, his back straightened, perfectly upright, and he set his fork down on a napkin. His hands folded in his lap, the picture of poise. He barely seemed to notice the command, though, staring ahead blankly, as though black stone had completely enraptured him.

Garmadon sighed, rubbing his temples as though his son were a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Must you make things so difficult, child?"

"You killed that man for no reason," Lloyd hissed, his eyes betraying how hurt he was. "He had a family, friends, a life!"

"A pitiful life," Garmadon responded in a bored tone. "All mortals die, my son. Him, sooner than others. What difference does it make?"

"What difference does it make to use me to do it?" Lloyd shot back. "You could have used anything else! Any other weapon, your own power! Why do you insist on using me?"

"Why else? To make a statement," Garmadon said coldly. Brad's blood ran cold at the sheer level of disinterest in the Oni's tone. He just… he really just didn't care. Not even a little bit. "To set an example. You are the Sword of Sanctuary-"

"Sanctuary," Lloyd interrupted. Anyone else would have been killed just for the vitriol in the demigod's tone, but Garmadon only continued eating as though he couldn't even hear his son. Lloyd's chest heaved as he stood, planting a hand on the table with a bang that shuddered through the room. "If you want me to be that goddamn sword so bad, use it correctly! I'm meant to provide safety, protection, hope-!"

Garmadon sighed and flicked his hand. "Sit down."

All at once, Lloyd fell into his chair like an invisible force had shoved him down. He glowered at the Oni. "Fuck you."

The Oni's purple-fire eyes narrowed. "Speak pleasantly or not at all." Lloyd's lips immediately thinned as they were pressed shut.

The Oni sighed, picking up a glass goblet filled to the brim with what Brad could assume was literal blood, an iron tinge wafting from the cup. He took a long sip, uncaring of the way Lloyd glowered at him, incapable of speaking.

"If only you'd stop making things so difficult," Garmadon said, almost casually. It astounded Brad, the way he could speak so- so uncaringly, like no one else in the world mattered. "If you'd stop forcing me to order you around every step of the way." If possible, Lloyd's face got even angrier, hatred pouring from every inch of his skin. Garmadon flicked his pointer again. "See, just like that. Stop making that ugly expression and appear pleasantly." And again, just like with every other order, Lloyd complied. His face contorted again as the lines in his forehead smoothed, his nose unscrunched, his doe eyes softened, until he wore a soft, pleasant smile. He looked like a doll. Porcelain, perfect, and soulless.

"I could afford you so many more privileges," Garmadon said loftily, "more freedoms, more luxuries. My son, I could gift upon you the entire world, if only you'd listen."

Lloyd remained silent, pleasant, soulless eyes staring daggers into the table. Brad could practically feel the way he was fighting just for the freedom to frown, his mouth twitching intermittently. Garmadon frowned. "Speak, child."

"I have nothing pleasant to say to you, Father," Lloyd responded quietly. His voice was strained, as though forced to remain soft and kind where he wanted to scream.

Garmadon's dark eyes narrowed. "Speak."

Lloyd's eyes thinned. Not quite a glare, but clearly unhappy. "With all due respect," Lloyd said in a tone that suggested that amount due was exactly none, "As long as I am here, under your orders, I have no privileges. I have no freedoms. At most, you afford me a fancy bird cage."

Garmadon leaned back dramatically, feigning disappointment. "Fine, then. Continue this, as you have for five decades. You may think 50 years is enough to wear me down - all you do is tire yourself. I will play this game of yours as long you make me. I will tell you when to sit, to stand, to eat. You will sleep and awaken at my command only. I will turn you from javelin to spear to axe to sword-" Lloyd flinched, "-and so help me boy, you will learn to listen." The Emperor leaned back in his chair, waving his hand to Lloyd like an invitation. "Are we understood?"

Immediately, Lloyd shot out of his chair, the words apparently releasing him from his position sitting down. He planted both hands on the table loudly, snarling at his father. But as large as Garmadon was, he could only raise himself to the Emperor's level.

"We're understood, alright," Lloyd hissed between sharp fangs, "I understand that I have the most powerful element in the world. You had to stuff me in a hunk of metal to use a fraction of it! So I'll keep this up as long as it takes, because as long as you think you can last, I can last longer."

The two demigods shared a heated look, fire of purple and gold burning in their eyes. Lloyd jabbed a finger into his father's chest. "You will have to make me. You will have to force me to sit, to stand, to eat. You will have to make me sleep and awaken. And so help me Master, you will have to drag my screaming body into every single execution. You will have to make me kneel." It was no bluff. For all his defeated pliance, Brad could see the visible fire of defiance, the sheer hatred he contained for the Oni warlord.

Garmadon silent for a long, tense moment. Then he stood, chair screeching against rough stone floors, and rose to his full height. He towered over Lloyd. He glared down at his son, but Lloyd didn't even falter. Brad had seen entire cities fall to that glare.

Then the Oni lifted his hand in a wordless command. Immediately, gold gilded over Lloyd's skin like a bodysuit, crawling up his entire body and warping beyond recognition. Without so much as word, Lloyd was transformed. The shining Sword of Sanctuary, in all it's horrifying golden glory, shone like the sun in the near pitch-black room. The blade glowed with every hue of the rising and setting sun, putting the star itself to shame.

Garmadon continued as if nothing had even happened, holding his actual son by the hilt of the sword. He sighed, as if the action had weighed on him. "Again, making things so difficult. What a shame."

Garmadon cleanly sheathed the sword in a scabbard at his side. He abandoned the dining table, sweeping out of the room silently.

Brad, frozen in the corner, unnoticed as such a 'lowly servant', forced himself to move. He had to follow the Emperor.

He kept several feet behind the Oni, but it wasn't hard to follow the warlord's heavy footsteps, echoing in the arched halls. Along the way, he snatched a mop bucket from a convenient supply closet, just in case he needed an excuse.

Fortunately, there seemed to be no one else around. A few guards, here and there, walking silently down halls, but any true sign of life was snuffed out by the ever-present moon.

Brad watched as Garmadon suddenly made a sharp turn down a small, inconspicuous hall. Brad held his breath, peaking down the dark corridor as he watched Garmadon ascend a long spiral staircase. He must be going into one of the fortress' many towers. Was his own bedroom up there? Some kind of war room?

Maybe he just liked to stand in front of dark windows and look down on the dead wasteland he'd conquered, laughing menacingly. Seemed like the type of comic-book-super-villain thing he would do.

Brad stayed where he was, waiting around the corner. After a few long minutes, Garmadon reappeared at the base of the tower. He was without the Sword of Sanctuary, his scabbard empty of its bright glow. Had he… left the sword in that tower? Brad quickly pressed himself back against frigid stone and Garmadon swept down the main hall, not even noticing him. Brad waited a few extra seconds, then dashed into the tower silently.

He climbed the staircase for several minutes, boots clicking against cold stone. When he finally reached the top, he found himself in front of an unassuming door. He inspected it for some kind of alarm or trap, but found nothing.

Slowly, he pressed against the intricate handle. It folded easily, the door creaking open before him with no resistance. He frowned, suspicious. What kind of warlord left the most powerful weapon in the world behind an unlocked, unguarded door?

He stepped inside, only to be met with green. Every inch of the circular room was covered in gleaming, healthy plant life. Vines curled around cylindrical columns, blooming with golden petals. Flowers of all kinds scattered across the entire room, filling arched windows and cracks in the stone floor. In the very center, a giant willow tree stood, somehow perfectly healthy despite the complete lack of sunlight, water or soil. Brad gaped at the sight, completely dumbfounded.

He'd barely seen so much as a single bush since arriving in Garmadon's wasteland. What were the chances that in the core of his stronghold, an entire greenhouse was nestled away? This room was so unlike the rest of the Keep. Every inch of it was warm and inviting, as comforting as a melted cookie fresh from the oven.

He stepped forward carefully, pushing past the willow's hanging tendrils of leaves. In the base of the trunk, carved into the wood, was a glass display. The edges were done in gilded gold, sparkling patterns curling around the corners of the glass elegantly. Inside, the Sword of Sanctuary emitted a golden glow. Brad breathed out, near silently. It was even more magnificent up close. The blade was perfectly sharp and polished. The green gems in the hilt pulsed like a heart beat.

Brad had to shake his head, reminding himself that as beautiful as the weapon was, it was a person first. A person who may help the resistance fight Garmadon.

His fingers trailed along the case, looking for a latch. He found one, and slowly opened the case. He was hit with a wave of warmth, like he'd been thrust from the shade into a patch of sunlight. The scent of flowers filled the air.

"Hi," he breathed. He lifted his hands toward the hilt, then hesitated. "Uhm… sorry if this is, like, a no-no… but I'm here to help." With a deep breath, his hands wrapped around the sword's handle.

All at once, he felt this- this-

Green. Green, and Gold.

It's not, like, the colors. It's- it's Green and Gold, with the capital G's, all encompassing. It's the sunlight streaming through dappled leaves, leaving patterns on the forest floor. It's the sun in the early dawn, casting cool warmth over the treeline. It's the corona of the sun, it's the dew on the leaves, it's the supernova a thousand light years away and the mountain ranges in the distance and the fire in the hearth and the lightning of the storm-

God, it's everything. Everything in the entire world, and beyond that. It's as he's been given a glimpse into the depths of the universe, only to find it opening its eye to stare right back at him.

He stumbled back, gasping. The sword shone peacefully, gems pulsing in time with his own heartbeat. There's a tug, in Brad's chest, that wasn't there before. It's curled up, nestled in his ribcage like it belongs there.

He blinked, shaking himself from his reverie. He held the sword up, watching his own warped reflection in the blade wink back at him. "Hello?" He whispered. He swallowed. "I- I don't really know how he turned you back and forth… can you, uh…" he was starting to feel dumb, talking to the sword, but there was a person in there. A real person. He cleared his throat, silently apologizing. "Uhm, Sword of Sanctuary… turn into a human. Please."

The green gems glowed, near-blinding as the metal of the blade began to warp. Brad hurriedly set the sword back down in the case just in time for the boy - Lloyd - to twist into being in the crook of the case. His form is temporarily hidden from view by blinding golden light, a halo like the sun's corona shining around his skull. Brad backed up so he wasn't crowding Lloyd into the little case. It had seemed disproportionately large for a sword before, but now it seemed too small for the person.

Lloyd was faced away, curled up in a little ball with his face pressed into his knees. His golden hair was undone, spilling over his legs. He didn't move, didn't even turn to face him. "Go away," the teenage demigod spat, "I don't want to talk to you."

Brad rubbed the back of his neck. "That uh… might be a problem? I kinda need to talk to you."

At the sound of the foreign voice, Lloyd whipped his head up, eyes wide in shock. He gaped at Brad, gleaming green irises piercing his soul. Well, that's what it felt like. In reality, maybe Lloyd was just really pretty.

Brad beat back his blush at the thought. There wasn't any time for that.

Lloyd opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. Finally, he uttered, "who… who are you?"

Brad extended his hand to help Lloyd up. "My name is Brad Tudabone. I'm here to help."

Lloyd eyed his hand warily. He scooted back, standing in the case on his own. The podium afforded him more height than Brad, but if they stood on the same level, Lloyd would be just a scant few inches shorter.

Brad took his hand back. He took another step back, just so Lloyd didn't feel too crowded. "I'm gonna be honest, I… don't really know where to go from here," Brad admitted, scratching his neck sheepishly.

Lloyd wasn't quite glaring, but he looked suspicious. "Where's Garmadon?" He demanded.

"I don't know, but he left a little while ago. I followed him to the tower, and snuck in when he left."

Lloyd's eyes widened. "You mean… you're not his servant?"

Brad scoffed, crossing his arms. "He'd love to think so. No, I'm with Master Wu's rebellion. Wait… hey, if you're Garmadon's kid, and Wu's the guy's brother - that's your uncle, right? Wu?"

Lloyd's eyes shone with hope as he leaned forward. "Uncle Wu? He has a rebellion?"

"Yeah. That's where I'm from."

Lloyd clapped his hands over his mouth, hiding a smile. "He sent you to rescue me!"

Brad froze. Wu… definitely did not do that. "N-not exactly," he admitted. Lloyd drooped, confused. "I'm here to spy. The Elemental Masters are planning an assassination on Garmadon - I was gathering information here, but then I saw what Garmadon did to you in the throne room, and…" He looked down, brows furrowed. "It's not right. He treated you like some- some thing. I couldn't let it keep happening."

Lloyd tilted his head. Slowly, he stepped off the platform, bare feet sliding into dewy grass. His hanfu was gone, replaced by a clean white tunic, a green sash draped over his waist. He approached Brad. "You… snuck behind my father's back because you didn't like that he… orders me around?"

Brad shrugged. "It looked painful."

Lloyd's faced twitched briefly, surprised at the simple statement. "But I'm a weapon. Surely, you saw it. I'm the Sword of Sanctuary."

Brad nodded. "I saw. By the way, you look great for supposedly hundreds of years old."

Lloyd's mouth twitched, almost like he wanted to laugh. Brad suddenly wanted desperately to hear the sound, to make the boy before him smile and laugh. "N-no, I'm not that old. My… my father did this, 50 years ago. Before, I… was just a person."

"'Just'?" Brad repeated skeptically. Lloyd flushed.

"Well… not really, I guess. I was an Elemental Master, and grandson of the First Spinjitzu Master. But I definitely wasn't a hunk of metal."

"If it helps, the sword is really cool looking," Brad offered. Lloyd huffed, crossing his arms. He leaned his back against the thick wood of the willow tree.

"No, it's not. It's an itty-bitty prison my father likes to stuff me in." Lloyd hummed, then his gaze shifted from the grassy floor to Brad's face. He seemed curious. "And you saw that. You… know how he does it, right?"

Brad wiggled his hand in a so-so motion. "Kinda? I- I saw the way you couldn't disobey him. One second, you were spitting mad, the next…" He trailed off, not bothering to finish the sentence. Lloyd was obviously well-aware of the way he'd been forced by a few simple words to sit still like a doll, a fake smile plastered over his lips. That wasn't the smile Brad wanted to see - he wished he could make Lloyd smile for real, all teeth and joy. That soulless husk of a person from the dining room wasn't right.

"Anyways," Brad said after a beat of silence, "it was fucked up. So I came to save you."

Lloyd blinked. His hand came up to cup the gems imbedded in his chest, sparkling in the arch of his collarbone. "Save me? You mean you- you don't know?"

"Know? Know what?"

Lloyd suddenly pushed off the willow, pacing back and forth in the grass. Brad watched, helplessly trying to understand what was up with him. He was usually pretty good at reading people, but Lloyd felt like a brick wall.

Suddenly, the demigod stopped in his tracks. He approached Brad, gripping him by the shoulders and fixing him with that piercing green stare. Brad could only let him, speechless. "Brad, how did you make me human again?" Lloyd demanded.

Brad stuttered, hoping his blush wasn't showing on his tanned skin. "U-uh, I just- I just picked up the sword- I-I mean, you, and asked you to be human again."

Lloyd's eyes sparkled. "You mean, you picked up my hilt? I didn't just go back to normal on my own?"

"Yeah, I just… picked up the sword. Is that a bad thing?"

"Bad thing?" Though he still wasn't smiling, Lloyd let out a breathless sound, almost like a desperate laugh. "Brad, don't you feel it?"

"Feel… what?" Brad squeaked.

Lloyd poked his chest, and Brad tried very, very hard not to let his emotions show. "This! Brad, you've… okay, listen closely. This is how it works: when Garmadon turned me into a sword, he cursed me. I can't shape-shift by myself, I can't get too far away, and my powers are locked up."

"Oh," Brad almost reached out to hold Lloyd's hand before he thought better of it. "I'm so sorry, that's- that's so fucked up-"

"No, shut up," Lloyd smacked his shoulder, "the point is that he was in control. It's called being my Wielder - the only person who can command me to do anything at all. But you-" he poked Brad again, "-you picked me up."

"What does that mean?" Brad asked helplessly. "I only did it to get you out of here!"

"When you picked me up, you became my Wielder. That's how it works; whoever picks me up when I'm a sword becomes the new Wielder."

"That's so needlessly complicated," Brad muttered. Then he actually registered all the information, and met Lloyd's eyes. "But… good. Because if I'm your Wielder… he can't tell you what to do anymore."

Lloyd tilted his head. "Well, yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of, like, 'you can get me out of here now'."

"I was doing that anyway, though."

"But now you can use me to do it," Lloyd said, "I can turn into any weapon you want, so long as it has a blade. Whatever you need, I can be - a spear, a kusarigama, a sword. Even a bow and arrow. You can use me to escape this place, and take me to my uncle!"

Brad thought about. He probably wouldn't be able to just sneak Lloyd out as, like, a pocket knife. He would probably have to fight his way out, and that could get ugly. Of course… Lloyd was a magic sword.

Still… "I don't know," Brad rubbed the back of his neck. "Isn't it kind of fucked up? To just turn you into whatever weapon is convenient for me? I mean, are you even, like, conscious when you're like that?"

Lloyd blinked. "I-I'm a weapon."

"Right… but can you think? Feel stuff? Do you hear what's going on around you?"

"…no."

Brad splayed his arms out. "Then how is it not fucked up? I can't just- just order you back and forth when you're not even aware of what's happening!"

"Brad, it's fine," Lloyd said. He picked at the collar of his tunic. "I'm used to it, anyway."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"You think my father gives a shit about what's okay?" Lloyd snapped. "He won't give a damn if you treat me nicely. If you want to get us both out of here alive, then you'll just have to break your moral code for an hour. I can make you stronger, faster, perfect with any weapon you choose. I give you full permission to use me, if that's what you're looking for."

Brad sighed. He knew Lloyd was right. There was no way they were getting out of the Keep unseen, and Garmadon would stop at nothing to get the legendary sword back.

"Fine," Brad relented. It felt so wrong, though. "But I'm not using you, okay?"

"What-?"

Brad grabbed Lloyd's hand. "We're a team. I'm, like, basically useless without you, and you can't exactly beat up a bunch of Oni by yourself, right?"

"'Could if I had my element," Lloyd muttered grumpily. But he nodded all the same. "But… right. A... team."

Brad grinned. "Then let's get you outta here. I can take you to your uncle, and he can fix this."

"Right." Lloyd breathed out, staring down the thick iron door behind Brad. Brad followed him to the door. But before Lloyd opened it, he paused. "Wait… how did you get in here?"

"What do you mean? It wasn't even locked." Brad shrugged to himself. "Maybe Garmadon forgot his key."

Lloyd gave him a very confused look. "You mean, the spell didn't work?"

"Spell?"

"Yes! The spell that keeps out… aren't you an elemental master?"

Brad shook his head sheepishly. "Ah, no. I've met a few, but… no."

Lloyd narrowed his eyes. "Oni? Dragon? Can you even do Spinjitzu?"

"No, no, and no," Brad ticked off on his fingers. "Definition of normal, here."

Lloyd turned to fully face him, dumbfounded. "What is your most profound skill?"

Brad lit up, giving Lloyd a smile. "I'm a fantastic gardener."

Lloyd breathed in very deeply, as though trying not to scream. "…okay. Sure. I mean, you're so weak that the spell didn't even perceive you as a threat, but okay. Sure."

Brad was a little offended. He wasn't that weak. For instance, he won almost half of the fights he was in. That was more than Gene!

…granted, Gene was almost never in fights because everyone was afraid he'd snap and build a ray gun, but his point stands.

"Doesn't matter," Lloyd finished. "With me, you'll be more than capable."

"R-right," Brad stuttered. He opened the iron door, holding it for Lloyd. "After you, then."

Lloyd stepped out of the room, and it was like a physical weight had been taken off his shoulders from the way he relaxed, relieved. "Come on," he said, "turn me into something to get out of here."

Brad hummed, though it was hard to ignore the curdle of discomfort. Lloyd seemed… fine with it, but he couldn't shake how wrong the entire thing was. But he shook his head, snapping back into focus.

His hand touched the cool stone of the tower. "…there are windows. Can you turn into something with, like, a hook and chain? Like a grappling hook?"

Lloyd tsked. "Only weapons. Lucky for you, ninja are crafty. Ask for a kusarigama, and don't worry about the chain's length - you can just extend it."

Brad blinked. "A-alright. Uhm… Lloyd, please turn into a kusarigama. Please."

Lloyd only had the time to look vaguely confused before the gild of gold raced up his skin. In a flash, a ribbon of golden light was wrapped around Brad's arms, and he held in his hand a golden kusarigama. The chains and curved blade were both an intense golden color, the overly fancy handle embedded with green gemstones that pulsed with his heart beat.

He was sensing a theme here.

"Thanks," he whispered to the weapon. In the back of his mind, he could almost feel a weird sort of buzz, vaguely pleased. Probably his imagination.

He trotted down the stairs until he found a small window, just large enough for him to slip through. He pushed the glass pane open, staring down at the horrifyingly long drop. Going straight down, he would land on the thick outer wall surrounding a courtyard. He could run across that to the stables - which he was stuck cleaning yesterday - and steal a horse. From there, he'd probably have to fight his way across the bridge to get out of the wasteland. It would be treacherous, especially when Garmadon realized his most prized possession had gone missing.

He'd come here on a spy mission, and somehow ended up saving a demigod. But honestly? He couldn't find it in himself to care. Nobody, in all 50 years of Garmadon's occupation, had ever spared a glance to the truth of the Sword of Sanctuary. Even Master Wu, who surely must have known what became of his nephew, hadn't told Brad.

Well, fuck it. The assassination would have to wait. All his life, Brad had wanted nothing more than to help. To ease the pain that infected every crevice of this world. There was no way he could have turned a blind eye to this.

"We're getting the hell out of here," he muttered to the glowing kusarigama. It might have been his imagination, but he could've sworn the weapon beamed at him.

He hooked the kusarigama's blade on the window's corner, wedging it in place. He hopped through the open window, feeling a wave of cold hit him. Slowly, holding the chain tight, he made his way down the side of the tower. It was a little like rock-climbing, using only his feet as leverage and counting on the chain to hold his weight.

He landed on the border silently. The kusarigama was too firmly wedged to pull down, though. "Uh… give me Lloyd back, please," he whispered to the handle. The weapon glowed brightly, and Lloyd reappeared in a pop of golden sunbeams.

Unfortunately, he appeared at the top of the tower.

Lloyd, surprised, screamed as he suddenly fell down several dozen feet. Brad yelped, quickly jumping to catch Lloyd before he could hit the ground. Lloyd reflexively wrapped his arms around Brad's shoulders with a gasp.

"You idiot!" Lloyd hissed, smacking his chest. "Why did you do that?!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Brad whispered back. "I thought you'd appear at the bottom!"

Lloyd glared, then realized where they were. "Why did you turn me back? We're not even out of the keep!"

Brad shifted, readjusting the boy in his arms. "I just… thought you'd wanna be, like, present?"

Lloyd gave him a flat, unamused look. "Just- come on, go! We need to get out of here as soon as possible."

"But why can't you be human-"

All at once, the yells of guards filled the air as a siren began to blare, screeching in the night air. Lloyd gave Brad a look that said because that, idiot.

Brad hissed. "Aight, got it. Uh- kusarigama again, please!"

Immediately, instead of a demigod in a bridal carry, Lloyd became a golden kusarigama in Brad's arms. He immediately began to sprint down the length of the border wall.

"Stables, stables-!" Brad hissed as he scanned the ground below. Finally, he spotted the stables in question and grinned. Instinctively, he threw out the kusarigama. It landed perfectly on the wooden structure housing the horses. Brad leapt off the wall, swinging into the stables quietly.

He blinked as he landed, staring down at his hands. He… didn't know how to use a kusarigama. He'd never even touched one before today. Didn't stuff like that take years of training-?

A yell from outside cut off his thoughts. He swore, ducking into the closest stall. Inside, a tall, pure white horse stared down at him.

Thankfully, the noise outside passed. He stood, reaching his hand out to the horse. "Hey, sweetheart," he whispered nervously. "Mind taking us on a little ride?"

The horse snuffled, but didn't appear violent. Brad took it as a sure, whatever, weirdo, and began to suit up the horse. He strapped the saddle on quickly, tightening the reins around the bridle.

He led the horse out, taking care not to be seen. With a sharp whisper, he hissed to the kusarigama, "uhm… a sword, please."

Immediately, the chain disappeared, and the handle in his grip lengthened and sharpened into the gleaming Sword of Sanctuary. "Thank you," he whispered. He stepped into the saddle, holding the sword - holding Lloyd - at his side. He didn't have a scabbard, so this would have to do.

He spurred the horse the horse into a run, headed straight for the open gates. He flew past the guards posted, and they yelled, calling out for help. He grit his teeth, silently urging the horse faster. Wind whipped at his hair as he sped through the wastes. Hazy grey fog smothered the ground, clouding his visibility.

Yells began sounding from behind him. He spared a glance back to see at least five guards on his tail. He swore, kicking the horse's flank.

"Dammit-" he ducked as an arrow whizzed past his head. He tugged the horse to the right. Miles ahead, he could make out the sheer cliffs of a canyon. He could lose them in there. "Faster-!" He yelled, making a beeline for the canyons.

Arrows flew by his head, narrowly missing him. He lifted the sword, cutting one out of the arrow in a clean strike.

Two guards split off from the group as the ground slanted. The path he had taken took a downward turn, becoming a low passage surrounded by cliffs. The two guards took to the left and right, rising above the group. They both drew back their bows, shooting down at Brad.

He ducked, swerving to avoid one, and forced to cut the other out of the air. "A- a shield!" He yelled at the sword, "Please, give me a shield!" The sword remained a sword, pulsing silently. He internally swore. Of course - Lloyd had said a blade. Offensive weapons only, then.

"Then a bow and arrow!" He cried out desperately. "Please, a very large bow!"

Immediately, the sword complied. The blade warped and bent, thinning out into the curved grip of a brilliant golden bow. He pulled the string back, and a bright arrow made of pure, hard green light appeared in arrow rest, gleaming like a beacon. He aimed upward, firing off the green light-arrow. It spun like a turbine in the air, a single bright star in the smoggy wastes. The sharp end beaned the guard in the head, sending him toppling.

Brad fired off another arrow at the second guard above, and the arrow hit its target perfectly. "A sword again, please," he whispered, and the bow warped back into the Sword of Sanctuary. Vaguely, he felt as though within the weapon, Lloyd was pleased with himself.

The other three continued to shoot at him. Brad cut the arrows out of the air. God, they had to run out at one point, didn't they?!

The left-most guard of the stupid little posse drew his own long-sword, a dark, jagged blade. His horse reared up, and hit the ground in a sprint. Brad gasped, jerking his own horse to the side when the guard tried to ram into him. The guy had a mouth full of crooked, yellow teeth, scars littering his face. He sneered at Brad, raising his sword for a strike.

Brad brought up the Sword of Sanctuary to block him, straining against the larger sword. As if sensing he needed help, the sword glowed with excess warmth. It crept into Brad's skin, strengthening his muscles and righting his grip. He grinned right back at the guard.

"Yeah, fuck off, douchebag!" He yelled, pushing the dark blade back. "A spear, please!" The sword lengthened, thinning out into a spear with a sharp, gleaming tip. He swept out the weapon, knocking the guard clean off his horse. He toppled to the ground, and the other two sped right over him. "Sword again, please!"

Both of Garmadon's goons were catching up. The canyon was closing in. He could make it, if he could shake these two.

The guard to the right drew his bow, nocking another arrow. Brad prepared to cut it clean out of the air. But instead of aiming for him, the arrow pierced his horse's flank. The animal screamed, and Brad yelled out as he was thrown off of it. In his surprise, the Sword of Sanctuary slipped from his grasp, flying back.

Brad hit the ground with a yell, and gasped as the sword landed in the dirt several feet back. "No, Lloyd!"

He shot up, ducking under the swing of a blade aimed for his head. His eyes widened at the sight of the second goon leaning over the side of his horse, hand stretched down. "Human! Human, human, turn into Lloyd!"

A split second before the Garmadon's underling could graze the hilt of the sword, the sword shone with a great golden light. The force of it swept the smog that clung to the ground back. Lloyd was only frozen for a millisecond before he snarled. His hands locked around the guard's arm and tugged, throwing the guy to the ground like a pro wrestler.

Brad grit his teeth and turned back to the first guard. The guy narrowed his eyes with a sneer. Just as Brad put his fists up, Lloyd yelled from behind him.

Brad turned to see the demigod commandeering his assailant's horse, racing for Brad. His golden hair whipped behind him like a glowing river, his white chiton rippling in the harsh wind. His hand was stretched down, and Brad reached his own up. Lloyd's hand locked around his forearm, hauling him onto the horse behind him.

The remaining guard sneered, speeding after them. Brad clung to Lloyd's shoulders, breathing heavily. "Here I thought I was saving you," he joked breathlessly.

Lloyd flicked the reins, his own eyes narrowed in determination. "Save it, Tudabone."

Brad pointed to the canyons over Lloyd's shoulder. "The canyons! We'll lose him in there!"

Lloyd nodded, bending over as he spurred his stolen horse forward. The guard quickly gained on them, drawing his own bow. "Lloyd!" Brad warned, eyeing the guard warily.

Lloyd's jaw ticked. He battled with himself internally, before finally groaning aloud. "Alright, when we get to the cliffs, create a landslide."

Brad gaped. "W-how am I supposed to do that?! I'm not an Elemental Master!" He yelled. Lloyd barely spared him a glance.

"Just- just ask for the Green Element, and aim it at the cliffs! I'll handle the rest!"

"What does that mean-?!"

"Just do it!" Lloyd yelled desperately. The guard seemed to be right behind them, practically riding their heels. With no time to waste arguing, Brad relented.

"Okay, okay - Sword, please!" Lloyd's body was eclipsed in a golden sheen, and he held in his hand the Sword of Sanctuary. The guard behind sat up straight, drawing his bowstring back.

Just as they hit the entrance of the high canyons, Brad lifted the golden sword high above his head. "Lloyd - I need the Green Element!" He swung the sword in a wide arc. To his shock, a burst of green light shot out from the sword. The arc of energy hit the high cliffs like a blade all of their own, cutting into rock like warm butter.

The cliffs shuddered, rubble raining down just as they passed the entrance. Boulders hit the ground, shaking the dirt beneath them with the force of the landslide. The guard reared back, cut off by the falling debris.

Brad pulled on the reins, the horse skidding as it came to a stop. He breathed heavily, staring at the rubble blocking the canyon. Little bursts of green energy like static shock flitted off the rocks, excess energy sparking the grey air.

Brad huffed, breathless, then laughed. A strained, cracking laugh slipped out of him before he was full on shaking with it, all the adrenaline pouring out of him now that he was out of danger. "I just did that," he gasped, running a hand through his thick hair. Grime and sweat had built up, making it greasy. "I just did that! I stole the Sword of Sanctuary, I-"

He stared down at the sword, holding the blade flat in both hands. "How… did you do that?" He whispered. He recalled what Lloyd said that night, at the dinner table. 'The most powerful element in the world'… it seemed like a lifetime ago.

The Green Element. He'd- Brad Tudabone had just used the Green Element.

He swallowed. "L-Lloyd Garmadon, give me Lloyd back," he said. The blade glowed briefly before forming the shape of Lloyd, held in a bridal carry as he replaced the sword. Lloyd slumped against Brad's chest, face pale and sweat on his brow. His eyes were flat, fluttering weakly.

"Shit-" Brad held Lloyd up, scanning him for injury. "Are you okay? What was that?!"

Lloyd swallowed, not bothering to sit up. "The Green Element," he rasped. His expression was flat and dull. Bitter. "It's why I was put in the sword. So he could use it for himself."

"D-does it hurt you?"

Lloyd huffed through his nose, like the thought was amusing. "No. But the energy had to go somewhere. If you took it, it could've killed you."

Oh. Lloyd had… he'd taken the brunt of the power onto himself, bearing the exertion so that Brad wouldn't get hurt. He slumped, chewing the inside of his cheek. He never wanted anyone to get hurt for him - not ever. There were a thousand people who were more than worth it, but Brad? He was supposed to help people, not get them hurt on his account.

"Then we'll only use it in emergencies." Brad decided. Lloyd flicked his gaze up, raising a brow.

"We?"

"Yeah. We're a team now, aren't we?" Brad smiled down at Lloyd. "It's not like we're going to beat Garmadon's goons without the Sword."

Lloyd hummed. He shifted, sitting up a little straighter. He seemed to still be exhausted, the power of his element bearing down on him like a physical weight. His head slumped against Brad's shoulder. "I guess not," he mumbled. "We'll have a hard time getting out of the wastes, and my father isn't going to stop coming… Brad, you have to get me to my uncle as soon as possible."

Brad nodded. "I will. I promise."

Lloyd hummed in lieu of response. His eyes shut with a sigh. He looked exhausted. Brad decided to just let him sleep. They'd find a cave to hunker down in.

He woke to the sight of Lloyd sat at the mouth of the cave. He'd passed out last night after building a small fire, sleeping against their stolen horse. He'd laid Lloyd next to him, wrapping the linen of his servant's uniform over the blonde. Now, Lloyd had the same overcoat around his shoulders.

He was facing away from Brad. He was completely silent, and didn't seem to register that Brad was awake. His golden hair, shining in the dull morning, spilled over his shoulders.

Brad shook his head to get rid of the blush. Get a grip, Tudabone.

He stood, walking over to stand by Lloyd. The demigod's eyes were thin, deep in thought. He looked… tired. Defeated, in a way. But Brad had seen the way he'd rallied himself before, resisting at every turn.

It must be tiring to keep it up 24/7, though. Brad couldn't imagine running at 100% for fifty years straight.

Lloyd shifted, tightening his arms around his knees. He breathed out, tense. "…how bad is it?"

"The war? …Pretty bad." Lloyd closed his eyes, jaw clenching.

"I'm going to fix it," the demigod said quietly. He opened his eyes again, and they shone with determination. "I'm going to fix everything, I promise."

"Not without me, I hope." Lloyd looked up, questioning. Brad rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Well, I just mean… I'm gonna help, too. I'll get you to your uncle safely, I swear. And I won't let anybody else get to you."

"…why?" Lloyd asked. "Why help me? Why risk your life to steal me?"

"You needed help," Brad said simply. Lloyd's eyes grew big, softening out of their thin haze. "And… all I want is to help."

"My father will kill you if we're caught," Lloyd warned.

"If we're caught, he'll take and use you again," Brad responded. He stretched out his hand to Lloyd. His eyes crinkled with the smile. "So that's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm not going to let anyone touch you ever again; I promise."

Lloyd's green eyes flicked from his face to the outstretched hand, the fire behind him shining through his golden hair like a halo. Lloyd was the only bright thing in this entire wasteland, glowing with enough warmth and light to rival the sun. Brad wasn't going to let anything touch him. Not with hope so close in sight.

Lloyd was hope. If they did this right, the war could be ended within the month. Brad would do anything to save the people of Ninjago.

Lloyd swallowed, and reached his own hand out. He hesitated for just a moment.

"…am I even a person, to you?"

"That's why I saved you, isn't it? I won't ever give you an order - I won't ever turn you into a javelin or spear or axe or sword if you don't want it. I'm going to get you to your uncle safely, and you're going to save the world."

A shine passed over Lloyd's irises, and he stared up at Brad like he was seeing him for the first time. The fire Brad had seen briefly in the Keep flickered to life. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and grabbed the hand.