Chapter Seven The Name Of The Sword

 The Visit From The Witch

It had been barely a few months when Strena woke in a town tucked away and high up in the mountains by a narrow river. She had counted the months to three months and a week since that witch…Grasharlo, had tried to use and possess her to kill Zaryb. She still felt slightly ill just thinking about it. She felt naked in a storm and she desperately wished that her mother and father were here. To comfort and care for her. But no, they were dead and she was stuck with the one that killed them. She had no idea his plans for her, but she knew that she would not like them.

She opened and read her diary, just to take her mind off things, she wrote down the day's events and after the ink had dried, she read through the book.

She noticed that she was to turn twelve within a handful of months. She didn't not know whether or not she should look forward to it. After all, she knew that it did not matter if she was to come of age soon. She would still be in Zaryb's clutches. No, as long as she was with him she would always be his slave or pet.

Yet the only idea even more she hated was the fact that during that time she would have to become the apprentice to Grasharlo. She had asked Zaryb more about her and the more she heard, the less that she liked. Whenever he did tell her about the woman that would be her new teacher.

She soon put on a black blouse and her new coat which was identical to the last one, just bigger. With a set of trousers and done boots. The ring had started to glow around her throat. 

She looked to the door of her room when Zaryb walked in and sat on the chair next to her. He looked out of the window, but he still looked sleepy. The bags under his eyes made him look almost older than he was. She had noticed that he had been getting even less sleep than usual and had started to doze off as he looked out of the window. Which he did immediately after sitting down. He breathed him deeply and let out a heavy breath as he did.

Looking at him, in that moment she noticed that he looked chillingly like her father. It unnerved her to realise this. She had to look away to distract her from this and yet her eyes rested upon the single mirror in the room. Yet, to her shock, she looked chillingly like Zaryb too! In fact she looked almost like a younger gender bent version of what a cross between her father and Zaryb would look like! She quickly looked for her mother in her face only to find the only thing that she had of her mother's was that one maroon eye. The other was the same colour of her father's yet even he had the same mismatched colour eyes as Zaryb!

She started to wonder what she was like when she reached their age. Would she be like Zaryb or would she be on her throne like her father. Somehow she did not see herself doing either of them. No she saw herself writing in some day away cave or a cave-like place. She could not picture herself as a wife or as a mother either. In fact she found it difficult to even see herself as an old woman either. She also found it even more difficult to see herself being desired by anyone.

Then her thoughts were interrupted by the loud sounds of screaming below. She soon broke out of her mind as she jumped and wondered what was the cause of the terrified screams. She collected her sword and as soon as she opened the door the screaming died down. She then ran out of the room to see the witch that plagued her dreams in person for the first time.

Before she could do anything, with a flick of her wrist Strena flew back into the room. Her back hit the wall and her front hit the floor. She let out a grunt as Zaryb woke up. He looked at her allarmed.

She was about to get up when she felt a heavy weight on her back. She slammed back into the floorboards. She tried to get up again and again, but she could not. She then tried to force herself back up using as much strength as she could to push herself back up. Yet she hit her head as she slammed back onto the ground. Something was keeping her in place!

"Help!" She moaned.

He got up and went to run to her, but flew back immediately after. Then silver bars flew out of nowhere and stuck themselves into the walls where his wrist and ankles were, pinning him to the wall. He tried to pull them off but he could not. He noticed by their tight grip, then he knew that dislocating his joints would do nothing but run the risk of losing his thumbs. 

Then he felt a hand on his chest and all his energy left him. His heartbeat tried to give him energy that Grasharlo was sucking out of him. She continued to do this until he could do nothing but hang there limp. Incapable of stopping her from having her way with him. He looked down with dread building in his head which felt like it had a heart inside rather than a brain.

Then the witch walked into the room, both confidently, calmly and with grace. She looked at him with a cold but gracious smirk. Then her eyes slid to Strena. She let out a chilling laugh as she slowly walked up to the girl as she still struggled to get herself up. She looked up and tried to push herself back to get away, but she could not, her legs just would not obey her.

No, no, no! Get away from me! 

Grasharlo crouched and outstretched her hand to her. She closed her eyes as she started to tremble all over. Her heartbeat raced and her breath became quicker. She then felt the witch's cold hand gently rest on her cheek. She stroked her cheekbone gently with her thumb almost like a mother would. Despite her fear she felt herself beginning to calm down.

"Tell me, have you found out the name of the sword yet?"

"N-no." She felt herself say, almost like her voice and mouth were no longer her's.

"Have you made an attempt?"

"No."

With that answer she smiled with a cruel and wicked smile. Almost as if this was the answer that she wanted. She then gently pushed her into her back. She placed a hand upon her chest. She felt her energy being drained. Yet she was powerless as she felt more and more being drained. Soon it faced. She soon felt her body weaken and soon she had no energy at all. She knew that she had become incapable of raising whatever was to come.

"Time for me to show you what happens to those who disobey me, shall I?"

A light grew from her palm. She drove it into her chest. She felt her entire body flooded with pain. She tried not to scream out. But then the pain stopped. She felt her body relax as the pain ended. Then she drove it back into her chest and she felt her body flooded with an even greater pain. She even felt her body slightly rise from the floor. It took everything within her to not cry out in pain. She panted as her body fell back on the floor. She could see smoke rising from her body. She felt her body relax again, much to her dread, then she felt the hand on her and the pain was so great that she could not stop herself. She let out a scream.

"Good, good girl. Now let me hear you scream again."

"No! Please! You've made your point."

"No, not yet." She said, taking out a small pin and slid it under her nails.

Strena bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as it stung worse than any bee sting. She felt another drink beneath another nail and another. Soon there was a pin beneath each of the nails off her right hand. She saw her grip her wrist, she weakly tried to pull it out of her hand as the witch placed the tips of her fingers to the heads of each of the pins. She felt fire flare up from her fingers to the rest of her hand. She screamed again and again and soon years followed down both temples. She then stopped the hand. She tried to keep her sobbing as silent as she could as her eyes slid to it. Then she convulsed as she felt her do the same with the other hand. She then felt more fire coming from her left hand. She screamed and screamed and wept and wept. She looked down screaming as the witch took off her boots.

"No, no, no. No! Please no!" She shouted.

She felt the pins sink into her nails and she felt the fire flare up in her feet. Soon she could focus upon the involuntarily and freely leave her. She was completely incapable of doing anything to stop herself from weeping after.

"Daddy! Mummy! Help!" 

She heard the witch giggle. She could do nothing but scream and weep as she hit her again and again. She then felt iron come out of her mouth. She stopped as she wept and shook her head. The rest of her body could do nothing but twitch.

"Good girl. You learnt your lesson."

She then turned her attention to Zaryb. She climbed to her feet and walked right up to him. She gripped his throat. She summoned light and he too did not cry out. She then punched him again and again. He did not even let out a grunt. She summoned the light and punched him again and again. He let out a grunt as a splatter of blood left him. She pulled out a knife. She slit his arms again and again, laughing all the while she did. Her blade lowered to his thighs and she dug it in and then pulled it out, taking out a punch of table salt and flicked out at his wound.

"Stop it now Grasharlo. Torture the girl and stop touring him will you?!" Zaryb snapped, with that cruel look on his face.

She licked her lips.

"Only when he gives me what I want!" She whispered as she flicked more salt upon the open wounds.

He then started to cry out. She stopped and laughed again and again as she punched his wounds again and again. Soon Strena, for the first time, saw Zaryb cry. Grasharlo let out a whine.

"Oh, Zarry! I love doing this to you. There is just something addictive about your screams. After all, you're such a tough one to crack."

"Shut up witch! You're no better than that brother of mine!" He cried. "Fine! You can have the girl! Fine! We will find the name of the Demon Realm destined sword!"

She smiled widely as she learned closer to him.

"Good, good boy."

She looked at his face. She stroked his head and cheek. She pulled his head to her and their lips met. He tried to pull back but she leaned in, ensuring their lips never parted. She then pulled back as her eyes dropped and her eyes lit up.

"I wondered where they went! Glad to see that you put them to good use!" She said, lowering her hand to his stomach. 

"I can't wait for our reunion." She said, stroking it.

She soon left and the bars fell. Zaryb pulled out all of the pins from her. She then saw the fist right before it hit her. He punched her again and again and again until she was crying again. She saw that Zaryb too was crying. She punched him as she let out a cry of fear and rage. The whole of the tavern's windows and mirrors shattered into dust.

"I will kill her and then I'm gonna kill you!"

The Power Of The Sword

Strena looked at the job board. All her injuries were completely healed by the local white mage, yet she was still in shock about that night. Even though she was too scared to ask Zaryb anything, she could see that he too was scared. She did not want to be hurt more by him than he already did. Which was why she was looking at the jobs. She wanted something, anything to take her mind off things and the brightening of the ring around her neck. She soon found that very distraction. She took it and showed Zaryb as he downed his fifth pint.

"A bounty?"

"Yeah." She replied, with a sullen tone to her voice.

"Then we better be off." He sighed.

Janus Stele

Save up from the old tyrant Emperor Janus Stele.

Our old king,King Orinogh was killed by him no

less than three years ago. We have tried to take him

down ourselves but all efforts were in vain. We live in

the kingdom of Yorn,not far off the Bounty Hunter

Library.

Signed

Prince Elison

"Well! I didn't expect King Orinogh to fall! Nor did I expect that-" Zaryb chuckled, his hand tasted upon his stomach.

"You know him?"

"I know of him. He was a die hard warrior of a king. If this Emperor Janus took him down then he's either the greatest warrior or a great schemer."

"Right."

So I have got to be both, even though I don't think that I could call myself a warrior.

They soon took their things and collected the public carriage. Strena looked ahead at the horizon. Her thoughts wandered to Grasharlo's visit. She could not get what she did out of her head. She could even still feel an echo of the pain that she put her through. She was always reminded of it when she would look at her nails. Although she knew that the red lines underneath them would go in time, she would always remember what the witch did just by looking at them.

Then she thought about Zaryb. She remembered she tortured him and what he said. Yet the one thing that struck her was just how much more the witch got a kick out of torturing him than she did her. In fact she seemed to get off on it, like how he would get off on killing people. Well, when he wore that cruel face of his. She remembered how he wept. He actually wept! She could not believe what she saw. She remembered the kiss that Grasharlo gave him. It was like she was hungering for that kiss. Yet she could get what he had said out of her mind either.

"Torture the girl and stop torturing him will you?"

What was that all about? Why did he refer to himself like that? Just what is going on with him? 

Then her mind went over all the dreams that she had, but she quickly put those thoughts and doubts out of her mind

Never mind that! Why is all this happening anyway? Why does all this stuff keep happening?

She found herself hugging her nameless sword for comfort. She knew that she would never have anything else to comfort her. After all, she knew better than to ask for that from Zaryb. She hugged her sword tighter, almost like it was a parent. She wished that she had them back. She would do anything just to bring them back. She longed to have them comfort her and hug her so that she could cry into their arms and not have to lock away all the tears that she had all the time. She wanted someone in this world that loved her and protected her.

She had become so lost in her own thoughts that was barely aware that they had arrived. Zaryb hit her to wake her mind up and bring her back to the present. She got out of the public carriage. They then walked to the castle.

"What are you doing here?"

"I want to challenge Emperor Janus directly." Strena said, confidently.

He raised his eyebrow as he chuckled. In anger she pulled out her blade and slit his throat. The other guard was about to do something until he saw the rage in her eyes. She pointed the blade directly at him, who had become too scared to move.

"I am not joking, nor am I in the mood to. You go and get him and tell him that this afternoon he will meet me in combat and I will not take no for an answer!" She shouted as he heard a crack.

The guard looked to his left to see that there were deep and wide cracks in the wall. He then looked at her and his eyes dropped to the blade in her hands. He, without a word, nodded and ran back in and she walked after him. He led her directly to the man.

He was large and dressed in all black dragon scale armour with a black leather belt around his waist. He was bald with icy pale green eyes. One had a long and thick scar.

"Who are you?"

Strena slit the throat of the guard next to her before he even had the chance to flinch.

"The one that will kill you."

She charged at him. He dived out of the way, causing her to pierce the throne behind him. He pulled out his sword, just as she pulled out hers. He then flung it at her with such strength that she almost dropped the sword. She stepped back as he flung wave after wave at her, causing the girl to do nothing but defend herself. She blocked upper left, lower left and right then upper right, lower right. She felt the power ripple throughout her arms as she could do nothing but ensure that she did not drop her sword. 

Then her eyes dropped as she saw the opening. She ficked and went to slice the tourso but her wrist was grabbed. She could feel his grip become tighter and tighter. She had to push through the pain as she blocked the sword again and again, keeping her grip on her sword as tightly as she could. She could feel her body start to break out in a sweat. She wacked the sword away as she felt her bones being crushed.

She let out a slight whimper as he hit her in the stomach. She dropped her sword. He then gripped the girl by the hair.

"Tell me, girl, what is your name?"

"Strena!"

"No I know that that's not it!"

"Arielsa then! My name is Ariela Zuvé!" She shouted as she started to tear up.

His eyes widened as he smiled excitedly.

"Hold on! As in the daughter of the fallen tyrant king? You mean you lived? You actually lived? You know your father is a great inspiration for what I've done here. I mean all I need-"

"What are you talking about? My father was not a tyrant. He was always a good man! He treated me and my mum with such kindness!"

He bellowed out a loud laugh.

"Sure he may have gone soft at the end of his life, sure when he finally did get married. Which was after getting that king's daughter pregnant. However before then he did things that I can only fantasise about! Oh and after all I heard all about those stories, of how he conquered those lands! He had the whole of the Sand and Desert Planes in the palm of his hands! Too bad he died in his own blood!"

"My father was no such thing! My father did no such things!" She shouted with her full rage rising.

She punched him in the throat causing him to drop her. Quickly she picked up her sword and then a flash of light shot from the blade. He then pulled up his blade as she went to strike him. Then the blade cut through the man's blade like butter. He pushed her away and pulled out a dagger and she drove the blade down and it cut through the dagger. He jumped back and pulled a speir out from the wall. Then she ran on and cut through the head. Then she cut his legs off before he could jump back further. Then this was soon followed by his head.

She shook as she panted. She tried not to cry but she could not stop herself. Her rage ran throughout her body, flooding every cell in her body. The tears fell like a waterfall. She put the blade away and collected the head.

"What was that?"

"The blade I guess."

Fear Of The Sword

Strena woke up on the public carriage. Her arms were wrapped around her sword. She felt better after taking that job. Yet she could not get the fight and how the sword lit up like that. She thought about how easy it was for her blade to cut through every other weapon that he threw at her. She also remembered how easy it was for her to cut through the leg and head. Those would usually be tougher to cut through, but when the sword glowed it was as easy as cutting through butter!

She looked down at her blade as she slid up. She pulled it out and started to clean it again.

"Where to now?" She muttered sleepily.

"The library. I think we will learn something there."

She nodded. She looked down as she stroked the sword. She thought about what that tyrant had said. What he said about her father, about the way he spoke of him. She could not get it out of her head. He called him a tyrant, not just a tyrant but a great tyrant too. Her mind flicked back to her dreams of the man that looked like a younger version of both him and Zaryb. Her eyes slid to him, wondering if it was true. What he had said about her father. She remembered how he spoke of his brother…

No! That's silly! That's just silly. Get a grip Arielsa! He was lying! Just like everyone else, he was just lying. My father was no such man.

"What is it girl?"

"Nothing Master Zaryb. Just had a silly thought."

"Want to share?"

"No. Not really."

He shrugged as the public carriage turned a corner.

"Why did you kill them, my mum and dad?"

He smiled. It was that cruel and wide smile of his. The cruelty that she had become accustomed to. With the nightmarish look of absolute evil returned to his eyes.

"Shall I tell her? Shall I reveal why?" He sang as his eyes looked at the blade with a gleeful and aggressive look.

She closed her eyes in dread. She knew that if she did not say anything then he would hurt her again. Whenever he carried that look he was always prone to hurt her and taunt her.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

His smile became unnaturally wider yet he shrugged passively.

"Alright! I will not tell!" He sang.

She looked at him in nothing but confusion. Yet she came to the conclusion that he was only messing around with her as he always did whenever he carried that look. She let out a long and heavy huff. She was a fool to even ask. So she decided that she would never know.

"Never mind then!"

They continued in silence for a while.

"Was dad really a tyrant?"

"I think you already know."

That's not the answer I wanted.

They soon got off. They looked up at the narrow set of stairs in front of them. Above was a stone wall. She looked at him questioningly. He shrugged as he took the first step, which was so narrow that only one foot could step upon it. This also meant that they had to walk single file as they walked up step after step. Strena could not count just how many steps there were, nor could she tell how high or long they would be climbing, however she knew that it was long. After all, had it not been for Zaryb's training, she would have fallen long before she reached the top. 

When she finally reached the door he opened it to reveal more stairs behind it. She knew better than to groan. She climbed higher and higher. She soon spotted another door. She hoped that it would be the end of it, yet it only revealed more stairs.

What kind of library is this?

"This is not an ordinary library." She deduced.

He chuckled.

"Oh? Did you figure that out by yourself?" He purred.

"Just answer the question."

"No."

They climbed up more and more stairs.

"Then what library is it?"

"One that in order to get to, you will need to save your breath!"

She nodded.

"Right." She said, panting slightly.

They climbed higher and higher until they came to another door. This led to another set of stairs. She could feel a slight cramp in her leg. Yet the moment that he walked on, despite the feeling of needing to stop, she felt her legs carry hot on as if they had a mind of their own. She looked down at her cuff, remembering its power. So she continued without complaint. She dared not to. Then they came to another set of doors. This only led to another set of stairs. She continued knowing that the only thing that was keeping her going was the power of the bracelet that she had worn since she was five. Part of her wondered if her wrist had grown since that day or if the bracelet did.

Probably the latter.

Then she finally reached the top, where another set of doors lay. She spotted that, as they opened, it led to a large flat terrain the size of a royal courtyard where there were living quarters. To her left and right were a set of buildings all painted in blood red with deep purple timber. They both had two floors each, including the ground floor. It seemed that this place was too small to call either a town or village. Ahead of them was a large building of five floors in front of a rocky mountain face, with a staircase going off to the left. Above the doors was golden writing.

THE BOUNTY HUNTER

AND ASSASSIN'S

LIBRARY

Her mouth gaped as she looked at Zaryb.

"Now then, let us book ourselves in."

He walked to the right, despite the feeling of pain in her calves and thighs, she followed him. The moment that she rested her hand upon her sword someone screamed. She looked to the left to see where that came from. Only to see that there was another child her age with sandy hair and sunburnt face and blue eyes. He pointed at her sword. The woman, who was the spitting image of the child looked down and then at her. Her eyes dropped to the sword and they widened as her face was drained of colour. She quickly ushered the child on. Then her eyes looked away to see another assassin looking at her in the same way. Even more children looked at the sword and her and started to scream and others seemed to cry.

What is it about this sword that makes people react like that? She thought feeling both agitated and hurt.

They soon came to the desk. The woman, pale purple hair and golden eyes, looked down at the girl.

"She an assassin too, or is she an apprentice assassin?"

"Yes, she is not far off from becoming twelve."

"How old was she when she made her vows to Lok?"

"Seven."

Her eyes widened as she looked down at her.

"But is that not too young?"

"Does it matter? She was able to do it."

That was when she noticed her sword. She then let out a scream and placed a hand to her mouth. She fell off the chair.

Strena huffed as she frowned.

"What?"

"Th-that s-sword c-can you unsheathe it?"

She rolled her eyes as she let out a groan. She then pulled it out and flicked it to her neck.

"I don't know, can I?"

She looked down. She started to sweat as she looked at the blade and then at the girl holding it.

"Look, I am not in the mood. So tell me why are you so scared of the blade?!"

The blade had started to glow faintly.

"You mean that you-you don't know what that sword is?"

"If I did, do you think that we would be here?" She snapped, rubbing her neck that was glowing brighter.

The blade started to light up brighter.

She shook her head.

"Take any room you want and stay as long as you want. Just please put that away!"

She did.

"Thank you." She said, trying not to give into her tears.

They soon arrived in a small room, where she slept the journey off. When she woke the next morning she noticed that all the people there had all left, leaving both her and Zaryb alone.

The Grip Of The Sword

Strena, just after the moment that she woke up, cleaned her sword. She looked all over looking for any sign of any rust or scarring. Seeing that there were none she smiled. In fact looking at it it looked quite new, almost like it was straight out of the furnace that it was forged in. However something told her that it was far older than she could ever know. She knew that she could not quite tell how old by looking at it. No, it was in too good of condition to do that.

She then put on her clothes and then walked over to the courtyard. She swung her sword in a circle. She did it again and again. Soon she was circling to the left and the right. She soon looped the sword in a rhythm. Once she had got into the rhythm, she did this again and again, getting faster and faster as she swung on and on. When her arms were awake she knew that it was time to move on.

She lowered herself into her fighting stance. She swung it horizontally from right to left and right and left again and again. She then drove it down and curled her hand and swung it vertically. Then diagonally, going down from left to right keeping a firm grip on her sword. She swung right to left. She then did the same but swinging up rather than down.

As she continued training, she fell into a trance. She swung it again and again. Her mind became silent as she continued again and again. After a while, she felt her arms start to ache. Yet she continued to train. Then she felt tiredness come over her. Yet she felt something compelling her to continue. Almost like she needed to continue. She swung and swung and swung until her arms started to shake. Yet she still felt something within her compelling her to continue. She started to feel hungry but she did nothing to address it. She did not even stop when her hunger became painful.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked back to see Zaryb. Her eyes were zoned out. She was drenched in sweat and was panting. 

He smiled as he pulled out his knife. He went to stab her but she quickly blocked it, faster than she ought to have done at her level, even with Zaryb's relentless training. He then pressed the knife in. She could feel his power and strength. She could feel that it was greater than hers as he pressed against her power. Yet she could still feel something compel her to continue. She felt a strange strength keeping her in place and her hand steady.

He kicked her in the stomach. She flew back. She skidded as she landed. Yet she used the momentum to propel herself forward and landed on her feet. She looked at him. Not wanting to end this, she charged at him. She swung the sword at him to the right, he blocked. To the left he blocked. Down, he blocked. Up, he blocked. She went to strike him again and again and he blocked each and every one of them.

She soon felt her frustration build as she swung it again and again and he blocked her again and again. She could not even get her blade anywhere near his face! As she continued to swing again and again she felt the frustration turn to anger. She drove the strikes down faster and harder and harder. She put in more and more power into each swing.

She just wanted to hurt him. Just once, she wanted to hurt him, just as he had hurt her all these long years. She could feel the tears building in her eyes as she struck him again and again. She tried to stop them from falling as she did not want to look weak. Yet as she continued she could no longer hold them back. She was almost being suffocated by them.

Soon she was shaking in anger and her tears of anger and frustration flower like rain. The blade lit up again and it became brighter and brighter. Then her blade cut through the blade like butter. She then was able to strike the cheek opposite his scar. She felt something cut inside her and she dropped the sword. She collapsed as she shook like a leaf and she felt as cold as ice. Her arms and legs twitched uncontrollably and painfully.

Then all went black.

"Good work!"

What?

"Good work. It took your predecessor over ten years to make me light up like that! You were able to do it within two!"

What are you talking about?

"I am the sword."

Can I have…

She soon fell into a dream. She soon saw battle in front of her. She recognized a man and the demon that he was fighting.

The man had short black hair that had a purple shine to it. His eyes were deep crimson and his skin was as pale as paper. His ears were pointed like an elf. He was dressed in strange purple and orange and green armour. This was none other than Phorap The Mad. 

The demon was none other than the demon king Wolfox himself! He went to strike the winning blow. Then he put a flask to his wounds and, after filling it, he sealed it with a cork.

"What is it Philosopher? Are you not going to kill me?" He sneered.

"No. You are to be killed by another, at another time."

His eyes dropped as his smile widened and broke out in mocking laughter.

"But not by you?"

He smiled lightheartedly as he shook his head.

"Then why did you challenge me boy?"

He smiled widely as he showed him the flask and shook it.

"And what will you do with it?"

"Mix it with the scales of the Dragon King, you know he was the one that restored my stolen youth."

"Oh, and why would you do that?"

"To make a blade."

"What kind?"

"One that is needed."

"And will you name it?"

"Yes."

"And what will you name it?"

He opened his mouth to speak but her eyes opened before she could catch the name. She looked at the plane brown bed that she was in, she had new clothes on now. She looked to her right, where Zaryb was sitting. He was looking directly at her.

"I know what that sword is and where to look to find his name."

Darkector Awakens

Zaryb and Strena stayed there for two months. Strena trained with the sword day in and day out on the first week. On the second, when the ring around her neck was glowing brighter, her eyes read all the books of Phorap The Mad that Zaryb could find. Yet then they came to the information that they were looking for, when the ring was edging out of burgundy.

With the blood of Wolfox and the Dragon 

King's first shedding on Merth I was 

finally able to make the sword. 

I know that the one that would 

wield this would always be feared,

and insulated because of it however 

the girls that this sword is for need

 this so they will have to put up with

 the fear and isolation that inevitably

comes with it.

Strena closed the book and looked at the sword. If there was one thing that this page told her was not only how the sword was created, but also this was intended for some girls. One thing of which she knew deep down that one of these girls was her. To her shock, she realised that Phorap The Mad must have somehow known that she would obtain the sword. Which told her that even though it may have seemed like nothing more than a coincidence that she ended up with this sword, truth was fate was involved.

She then, wanting to know more, reopened the book to read on more. After all, she was thirsty to know what the nature of the fate that was at play here. She knew that she had to know if this was a good or a bad nature.

I have spent a year with the sword.

It has come to my attention that it

has developed some type of sentence.

Almost like it was alive in some strange

way. Which I found interesting.

 

Yet upon speaking to the sword and 

getting to know it, I soon noticed that it 

proved to me that it's being is far more

dangerous than I thought it could ever

be.

I know that in the wrong hands this sword 

would cause great evil and mischief, So I

have created a scabbard for it. So that 

only the right ones will be able to use it and

nobody else would regardless of their 

boasting.

If that is so then that King Haicer probably only kept it for show and spread fear throughout the land. After all, with this information I can't see him being able to wield it.

"Actually he could. It was not as good as you. In fact it took three whole years just to unsheath me."

Right…

She turned the page.

The ones that can unsheathe it must have 

all of these personality traits when he or

she receives it;

I, A longing for parental affection.

II, The one must have been born out of 

wedlock,with the ability to use magic 

like myself.

III,They must be undoubtedly lonely

Yeah…

She closed the book. She soon realised that these personality traits described her all over. Yet she could not get over the fact that Phorap The Mad seemed to emphasise that this nameless sword was forged for a group of girls that had these personality traits. She realised that there would be others that would be like her. There would be others that would end up going through the pain that she was going through right now. So who were they?

"I admit, I don't know. He would never tell me."

Are you the sword?

"Yes, I am!"

Her eyes widened as she realised that she was speaking to the sword. She was actually speaking to the sword!

That light, how do you light up like that? 

Hold on, that's what you want to ask?

"When our wills agree, then we will become invincible."

Like when I wanted to kill that man that said all those horrible things about my daddy, or when I wanted to cut Master Zaryb?

"Yes."

She smiled, feeling quite clearer in her mind and thoughts. Yet all of this was starting to peak her interest. She had to know more. So she reopened the book with a hunger in her eyes.

The sword has been acting strange. It 

noticed that people had names,like myself

 and my wife and children,and asked me for one. 

Although, I thought that it already knew…

She fell asleep. She soon saw Phorap The Mad in her dreams. He was flying up to Wolfox on the first dragon king, Bowen with a proud smile upon his face.

"Why have you brought us here Philosopher?"

He smiled proudly as he showed him the blade.

"What is that?"

"It is a sword. The one that I spoke to you about."

"Oh? And why should we be interested in that? Once a dragon sheds their scales it is none of their concern what happens after it!"

"This is for two girls. One of an age where Wolfox will be bound to the body of a human."

"And the other?"

"The one that will be born in a time where people will ride carriages with no horses and have moving pictures. They will be able to have boxes and strange square stones that will be able to play music. Yet I do not, for the life of me, why or how, however, the first girl will somehow give it to the other. This will happen once she knows that her time with the sword is up."

"Interesting."

"And what is the name of the sword?"

"Well…"

She woke up and looked at the sword?

Sword?

"Yes?"

What is your name?

"I thought that you already knew."

I don't, and that witch will hurt me again if I don't know it. But that's not the reason that I asked. I just don't want to keep calling you 'sword'. My name, my real name is Arielsa Zuvé, although I have been forced to go by the name Strena Azlok.

"Well, my name is Darkector, which means dark eater."

Upon hearing this the ring around her neck darkened to dark crimson.