The basilard waited a moment before responding to the boy. The time was right, and the location ideal. The basilard reached its senses outwards, focusing on their surroundings. A small number of people occupied either building, but the morning was just beginning. It would not become crowded for a good while.
Yes, child. It told the boy. It spoke slowly, as if carefully choosing each word. Its glow was minimal to the point that the tattered shirt hid it completely. Within moments, the sun would rise into the sky and drown it out entirely. You have succeeded. I can sense no further pursuit, even at the borders of my awareness.
It sat there in the boy’s grasp, its blank, hollow eyes staring upwards at him. The morning chill rattled about the alleyway as the sun began to chase the night air away. The basilard found it fitting that it should gain life during the rising of the spring sun.
Then it is time. The basilard said, its deep, ancient voice more calm and monotone than it had been before. Let my work begin.
The basilard sent its thoughts into the boy’s mind, its consciousness flooding every open channel. Tendrils of power weaved through him, leaving no thought sacred and no memory untouched. The basilard lurched and raised its arm, holding itself a safe distance from the boy’s thrashing. The statue’s influence had lessened the power required; all through night, it had been working its decay. The weapon did not glow to the extent it had in the warehouse, but still it flared enough to pierce the shirt’s frail protection. The alleyways would have to be their safeguard.
As the light died down, so too did the boy’s flailing. Bringing itself slowly to rest beside the child, the basilard lowered itself to the earth. No screams of alarm accompanied its display: they had gone undetected.
Now came the difficult part. It had been many ages since it had a claim to any sort of biology. New sensations of touch and taste washed over it. The sudden perception staggered it for a moment. Nevertheless, it retained its grasp on the child with ease and moved onto the next phase of acclimating. With no visible effort, the basilard attempted to open its eyes. The muscles around the eyes twitched, but no claim could be laid to sight.
The basilard attempted it again. And again. And again. It was only on its fourth try that it would succeed, and for the first time in decades it saw the world with two human eyes. The experience was not new, but it never failed to daze the weapon. It lay there for a moment, taking in the blue-grey sky and its orange tinted clouds. The sunrise might have been beautiful, if the weapon could experience the sentiment. All it knew was that it operated on something of a schedule: though it did not think itself capable of failure, the possession would be easier the lower the sun was in the sky.
It began to move its limbs. Not unlike the first time it had attempted possession, it began with wormlike crawling. It began to move its legs, the limbs responding by running while the body still lay down. Deciding that was satisfactory, it used its good arm to prop itself into a sitting position. It pushed itself over to the wall where, resembling a newborn, it attempted to walk by pulling itself up the wall and standing with support.
The blade’s legs wobbled and it crashed to the ground twice before it was able to remain upright. During the process, the shirt had fallen from the weapon, forcing the basilard to reach down and pick it up. Though it was a challenge, it managed to accomplish this end without toppling once more. Then it leaned against the wall and re-wrapped the shirt around its blade. The basilard then clutched the weapon tightly, using both of the boy’s small hands: especially now, it could not risk dropping itself.
It walked out of the alley on unsteady legs. The sun rose behind it, glowing orange as if furious it had failed to stop the mockery of life which now lived beneath it. The basilard walked on this world again.
Now it was time to find its kin.