All remaining contestants of "Fantasy Got Talent" had been on stage to tell their personal story and were now waiting for the results. But to everyone's surprise one of the judges climbed onto the stage and positioned themselves before the microphone. It was Rhojeka, smiling broadly at her audience. As she began to speak, her sweet voice filled the room, and for once the microphone did not screech from the feedback. The sound engineer just shrugged as some puzzled looks met him - the microphone wasn't even active.

"Dear contestants," the young woman began. "You have sung for us. You have made us laugh. And you told your personal story. You did very well so far. So before we announce the advancements and dismissals from this round, I feel inspired to give you a little something from me personally. Don't worry, this will not be part of the contest - but maybe it can inspire you, as your words inspired me.

The story I am about to tell you is probably the most personal story I have. It is also a very personal story for my friend and travel companion Mervella, and whenever we travel together, she would always prevent me from telling it.

But Mervella is not here tonight."

A brief moment of silence from Rhojeka before she continues:

"Usually I start by saying that it was a dark and not so stormy night. It was dark, but peaceful, a shining moon over a clear sky. But not this time. You will be the first to know why I tell this, and how it is connected to my life.

As Skylar mentioned at the beginning of the contest, I am a bard. But I also wield the magic power of my goddess Elstar - a very dangerous power, not only to everyone around me, but even more so to me. Gods can be testy if the power they grant us is used wastefully and without proper purpose, and the great Elstar... well, she has a well earned reputation. A lot of her followers died a gruesome death. Every time I use magic, I am fully aware of the risk I am taking, and if not, then Elstar reminds me by making me suffer through pain.

And yet it is still better than the alternative. Without this magic, in the war-ridden world I live in, I would be completely defenceless and would have to rely on others to protect me. The reason for that... I will tell you now."

Another brief pause as Rhojeka looks at her audience, looking deeper than just the faces and eyes that focused her attentively. She lets out a sigh as if she still needs to bring herself to do this, but then she straightens herself.

"On this dark and cloudless night a little group of children, fueled by the exciting tales of their village elder Henrellka, decided to go on a quest by themselves. They knew about a mansion not too far from their home village. Some rich person was supposed to live there, but whoever it was travelled a lot - which is not unusual. We were still at war with our neighbouring country, and capable men and women were needed everywhere. The owner of that mansion was probably a powerful knight or something like this. But that home was supposed to be filled with riches.

Mervella and I, we had both seen eleven winters by that time, were coaxed into joining the little band of little robbers. Their leader, the biggest and meanest bully of the village, said that all of us who would not join would be branded as a coward. They already regarded me as weak and useless - but this was the chance to prove myself, so I agreed to go. Mervella would join, too, for her own reasons.

After a short hike through the night, with the wolves howling in the distance, we arrived at the mansion. There was no wall or fence we had to overcome, no guards or dogs watching for intruders, and even though the front door was locked, there was a window that we could climb in that was not properly shut. Nothing prevented us from getting in. And we began searching the rooms until we found what we were looking for: a room with gold and jewels and other precious items, all scattered around on tables and shelves.

Everyone started filling their pockets with whatever they could find. Everyone except me. I felt that it was wrong. I was in for the adventure, but stealing from another person? A person that had done us no harm, and that wasn't even aware what we were up to? Even though I had brought a bag, I had no intention to use it. But Larsek, the bully, looked angrily at me, and so I quickly grabbed something that looked valuable to me and put it in my bag.

In that case it was a dagger. It looked very precious, with a blinking silvery edge and jewels inserted in the handle. But it was also something I always wanted for myself - a weapon to defend myself with. Something that would make me... perhaps not feared, but at least respected by the others.

It would become the worst decision I have ever made in my entire life..."

Rhojeka hesitated, this time not for dramatic effect. She felt a shiver on her back as she remembered the events of that fateful night.

"A few moments later we all found out that we were wrong. Because the mansion... was not empty. The owner had not left his possessions unguarded. The darkness of the room we were looting was suddenly illuminated by a bright light - not a candle, torch or lantern. It was brighter, more powerful - it radiated from the end of a staff that a tall grown-up person was holding through the door. Even though the light blinded me a bit, there was still a bit of the face behind that I could recognize. A bearded, angry face with dark eyes, and they fixated me.

Larsek screamed and told everyone to run, but I couldn't. I was standing there, paralyzed with fear, staring into the black eyes that seemed to absorb me while all around me blurred away in a whirlwind of panic. I saw the lips of the man move behind his bushy beard - and suddenly I felt as if the floor beneath my feet disappeared and I was dropped into eternal darkness.

When I opened my eyes again..." Rhojeka choked, trying to swallow that big lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. She rubbed her wrists in front of her as another shiver crawled down her spine. "I was unable to move. There was a small candle that lit the room, and I found that it wasn't the same room I had been in before. The bearded man had tied me up, had wrapped a long rope so tight around me that I could hardly breathe. He spoke to me, deliberately trying to scare me - something about the owner of the mansion putting me into a cauldron and cooking me for dinner. Then he left me alone. He didn't even lock the door - then again, he didn't need to. I was tied up like a wild animal, I was going nowhere.

Then I saw the dagger. It was lying on the floor, not even half my arm's length away from me. The bag it had been in had a hole in it. I was pretty sure that the hole hadn't been there before. It didn't matter anyway. I tried to reach it - and desperately so. It was so close to me, yet I could not move enough to touch it. I had never felt so scared and helpless in my entire life, and I probably weeped more than I struggled to get free... until I heard a voice. Not somewhere in this room or outside of it. The voice was in my head.

It said its name was Ro'Din. And after a few words, to which I replied by just speaking out loud, I learned that it was the dagger talking to me. It explained that it was a thinking dagger - a weapon with a living soul inside. Not trapped by evil intention, though - the soul had gone into it out of free will, to preserve the experience and wisdom of the person it once was. It wasn't very happy that I tried to steal it, but in between my tears I managed to convince it that I wasn't a petty thief and would never do so again if it let me go. Finally it cut me loose.

I took the dagger to bring it back where I found it, but right outside the room I ran into the bearded man again. He grabbed me instantly. I cried and begged him to just let me go, but I could not convince him like Ro'Din. When he pulled me back to the room, I was afraid that he would tie me up again. I still had the dagger in my hand. I saw no other choice, so I raised it and..."

Rhojeka stopped. She lowered her head. A single tear drop rolled over her cheek and fell onto the stage. It was so silent in the room that everyone could hear it splash onto the worn-out wood. She sobbed. Her body trembled all over. It took a moment until she was able to look at anyone again. With one hand on the microphone, her face shadowed with sorrow and shame, she uttered:

"I'm sorry." Another sob came from her throat, and her voice shook as she added: "Maybe... maybe Mervella is right, and I should not tell this. We are the only two people who know of this first-hand. Maybe it is for the best." She looked at the audience. Her eyes looking for absolution, but finding none, she took a deep breath. "You have heard it so far without falling asleep, you deserve to hear the rest.

I felt terrible. Rotten. Like evil incarnate. I saw the man lying to my feet, not moving anymore. Everything in my head screamed that it was me who had done this. Literally everything. A voice in my head screamed in anger, and it was not mine. Ro'Din was exploding in rage - I just made him end his owner's life. Now he was bound to end mine.

Had it not been for Mervella, I would not stand here before you. The dagger was not only able to talk, but it could also move by itself within limits, and with all its power it hurled itself towards me. Mervella caught it by holding a piece of wood in its trajectory - RoDin buried his blade inside it. Still screaming in our heads which began to be painful within moments. Mervella saw no other choice but to throw wood and dagger into the nearby fireplace. We both hoped that the fire would just stop it for a moment - but instead the dagger melted within seconds. What I learned that night: Normal fire cannot damage a thinking dagger, but magic fire - like that one, made by the bearded man to never go out - destroys it. It died slowly enough, though, to put a curse on me.

From that moment on till the day I die, I cannot touch a forged weapon. Not to wield it, not to carry it, not even to clean it. Whenever I do... I see it before me: the bearded man on the floor, the dagger in his side, my hands covered in his blood. I hear the screams of pain and agony coming from the dagger, and I feel the rope tightly wrapped around me as if I was tied up in this room again. And the worst part is: I feel like I should be tied up and imprisoned in the dark for the rest of my life. I feel like I deserve it, the worst fate I could ever imagine."

She took a last deep breath, holding on to the microphone, glancing at the audience.

"Thank you for listening. Good night, and good luck to you all!"