Mementos

Every weapon has a story. Let me tell you about the ones who came before.

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This greatsword belonged to Aiden, back in Freedom days

He took it to a Gravios in the Volcanic Hollow maze

That crack along the edge? That's where the laser nearly hit

He didn't make it back from his last hunt, God rest his soul

But this sword lives on, now it's yours—make your story whole

Every hunter who has held it never spilled their own blood's guilt

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Feel the weight! Feel the edge!

Of the hands that came before!

This blade remembers—evermore

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MEMENTOS OF THE HUNTERS WHO HAVE COME AND GONE

MEMENTOS OF THE BATTLES THAT STILL LIVE ON IN THIS SONG

EVERY SCRATCH, EVERY NOTCH, EVERY STAIN OF BLOOD AND SWEAT

THESE WEAPONS HOLD THE MEMORIES—THIS BLACKSMITH DON'T FORGET

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This longsword belonged to Mika, from Kamura village way

Her spirit gauge was legendary, faster than the prey

She took down three Magnamalo before the sun had set

She retired peaceful, had a family, lived a long, full life

But every time I polish it, I see her in the strife

This blade remembers every swing—every hunter drop

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Feel the speed! Feel the grace!

Of the souls that swung before!

This blade remembers—evermore

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MEMENTOS OF THE HUNTERS WHO HAVE COME AND GONE

MEMENTOS OF THE BATTLES THAT STILL LIVE ON IN THIS SONG

EVERY SCRATCH, EVERY NOTCH, EVERY STAIN OF BLOOD AND SWEAT

THESE WEAPONS HOLD THE MEMORIES—THIS BLACKSMITH DON'T FORGET

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This bow was from a hunter who couldn't see too well

But she could hear a monster's breath and hit it where it fell

She never missed, not once, in fifty years of hunt

...until she did. That arrow's still stuck up front.

I keep it there to honor her.

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This hunting horn was from a bard who played in every town

He died protecting Fatalis's target, took the blow

His horn still plays the song he played—I'll never let it go

These dual blades were from twins who fought in perfect sync

They're both gone now, but their blades hang crossed upon my wall

The greatest hunters, in the end, still fall

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MEMENTOS OF THE HUNTERS WHO HAVE COME AND GONE

MEMENTOS OF THE BATTLES THAT STILL LIVE ON IN THIS SONG

EVERY SCRATCH, EVERY NOTCH, EVERY STAIN OF BLOOD AND SWEAT

THESE WEAPONS HOLD THE MEMORIES—

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...this blacksmith don't forget.

Come back tomorrow, hunter.

I'll have your story ready.