The fingerprints engraved into the dagger’s hilt are said to have belonged to Brutus himself. Tradition maintains that they were pressed into the bronze at the moment he first stabbed Caesar, and have remained there ever since. It is possible, however, that these whorls of patina predate even his ownership of the blade, though they certainly are his prints; after all, whosoever holds it always finds that its fingerprints match their own.

The dagger holds within its bronze the curse of history; no matter how noble their cause may be, its wielder becomes the antagonist of their own reality. There is no time between the moment they grasp it and the moment it enters the heart of the victim from their perspective; the two actions take place as a single, fluid motion. The unconscious mind selects the target for them, in accordance with their principles and unspoken desires.

Though they cannot remember the moments leading up to the killing, there is no denying what they’ve done, for the fingerprints on the blade confess to them their own guilt. Furthermore, no matter their reaction to the results, they know that on some level, what they’ve found is what they wanted.

The curse always furthers one’s own cause and ambition, but its gift comes paired with humanity’s condemnation. Memory and morality alike yield to the blade’s sharpness, and distort in accordance with the magnitude of the consequences. Regardless of how wicked or tyrannical the victim may have been, the curse of the weapon grants them martyrdom, and the world weeps for their death. The past changes in accordance with the present: ink writhes as entire libraries worth of books rewrite themselves to accommodate for a new truth.

Most who come into possession of the dagger find themselves fugitives long before they understand its curse. Even so, there are some stoics who seek it out deliberately, believing themselves to have the judgment necessary to decide the fates of others. These zealots are certain of their convictions, and take up the blade in acceptance of the fact that they are standing alone against history.

They know that despite everything, in the world that awaits them, there is yet hope for their own redemption: it lies in making certain that they become the blade’s next target.

Self-damnation comes in many different forms, as one folk hero knows all too well.

The Ne'er-Do-Well isn't the only strange dagger that's been documented herein.

The dagger's curse is thorough, yet it sometimes leaves behind residue of the previous past.