Sessamaru nodded, walking towards the mountains through the grey, the black, and the white. He walked, feeling as if his hand was to slide the blade out of its seal. And he did. But, the sword released a pleasured moan, draining the air of its magic. The area about them became the normal greens and browns, leaving it healthy, if not drained. The sword reluctantly slid itself back into its sheathe. Sessamaru was amazed, but continued walking, not daring to question it. He already had the answer. "Chronosoul Magi..." He whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. They walked towards the Mountains.
"I apologize..." He whispered, lamenting. He clutched the sword, feeling a strange, inhumane symbiosis. He knew that he was as healthy as a horse, as powerful as a bull, and as fast as light. He felt lighter, better. He didn't want to get rid of the sword. Not soon, anyway. "Time to search the north, I suppose."
Hours past, the timeless forest dead, as was the Fable Stone, one of the Nine in Dhar'khome. In the North, were the mountains. The Moonshadow Mountains, where the moonlight strikes down in its perfect zenith at midnight, is where the Fable Stone of the North is located. Midnight was perfectly placed there. Sessamaru knew this, for that was what the Sword told him. Shadowbane chuckled her laughter, for even though she could still give Vitality to the green-eyed albino, he would eventually have to restock the power. In doing so, Shadowbane steals a larger portion. Soon, she would be ultimately be powerful. She will Manifest. Only she stole the secret from the world, from the stone. Only she knew. She chuckled and was then silenced as Sessamaru regained consciousness. She stole much from him as well, but kept it her little Secret. He stood up as if he had no malady, and walked perfectly straight, sane once again. "Are you alright, Kretze?" He asked, his voice clearer.
As the sword slid into the scabbard, a chilling, most horrifying knick came across Kretze knuckles. The blade not only cut Kretze, but the blade also cut his soul, wounding him in both ways. Sessamaru fell back, the sword and scabbard both falling with him. Sessamaru was in a daze, but his malady seemed to be cured. As he held the sword, he felt stronger and better, but he was exhausted, and not even a demon-relic could cure that. He rested against the Fable Stone, which slowly turned black, crumpled away as if it were an hourglass. Sessamaru slepted, the demon-blade's possessionary tactics sealed within the scabbard. He rested, the intelligence and wisdom the blade had gave way into Sessamaru's mind... All of it were also secrets in which the blade disliked to give away...
The blade recoiled before it got anywhere near the scythe, the scabbard's sealing charm harming the blade. Sessamaru's body began to swagger, but it was unnoticable due to the afterimage. He moved too fast for a mortal's eye to take note. He swung the blade in a wide semi-circle.
The water only drenched the albino, but the sword protected his eyes with its ominous aura. He lunged the sword forward, toward Kretze heart.
The scabbard touched the hell-sword, making Sessamaru's arm cock back, keeping the scabbard away from the sword. "Keep still, this'll only take a moment," He whispered.
For every step Kretze took, Sessamaru doubled. His eyes stared into Kretze. Something behind the murderous, but promising orbs, was sympathy, was pity... was fear. The sword halted. An eye opened upon its guard, looking to and fro, the purple orbs practically smiling. A scabbard of obsidian-leather lay beside Kretze foot. It held magic, and it was large enough for a greatsword, similar to Sessamaru's.
"It's no trick," he whispered, more closer to Kretze. His voice was more sincere and honest than any skilled liar could ever have. "I promise, all your troubles and fears will come to an end." Sessamaru's eyes fall to the right this time, looking at the scythe near his foot. It shifted back to the left.
"Now now, child, come back here," He spoke in a dual-tone voice. Sessamaru took a step forward, his hair dancing like a flame. He extended the blade outward "I'll cleanse you of your fears, I promise," He remarked slightly, his eyes shifting to the left. A nervous habit.
Ooc: Come now! Don't be so modest! :( His hand clasped around the deadly hell-blade, a black flaming aura danced around the blade, screams of thousands of souls screaming their deadly keen. The blade finally formed. It was a greatsword, a sapphire at its pommel. The red runes upon the blade's edge shined ominously. The blade was oddly thin and single-edged. He stepped forward, holding both blades, the black blade seemingly heavy.
Ooc: lol, nice. Sessamaru's possessed body hacked the herb out, blood covering it. His body didn't falter. It was as if he were a zombie! The puppet walked backwards, towards the sword. Steps were precise, stance was accurate. His hand held outright, preparing the grasp the sentient blade. The black lids opened, revealing red, pupil-less orbs, the skin's tone and hue were grey as his hair darkened to a shadowed blue. His head cocked upwards.
Ooc: My mouth or your's? XD Sessamaru was still in a trance, his spirit stored away into the very recesses of his mind. The albino haulted, though, pausing as he drew the crystal sword. A sword whose blade could not cut a fly. The blade shown an ominous red light, the red and black fog within the blade dancing madly about. Sessamaru swung the sword heavily back at Kretze.
Lost in the void, that I am, resting. I hear a voice. An angel? A devil? I know not. I rise from my resting place... What resting place? I wander the void, the darkness... the light? I walk, searching for what I must, or who I must, my hand at my blade... No blade? This place confuses that, that is me. The voice is more coherent, a lovely, feminine voice. She asks me questions. "My belove Sessy, please, come to me? I'll be gentle with you if you are of me, I promise," She says, her beautiful voice luring. I am tempted to grasp what she asks, but I know not. I am truly confused. I look closer, not seeing a shape or form, questions upon my lips. But they escape me. Only one question remains for me to ask. "What must I do?" I ask. "Grasp me, wield me, use me to your very whim. Forget yourself, as I will remember for you," She replies sincerely. This warmed my heart, takes away my fever, my demonic malady. Everything becomes dark. Or bright? I feel like something is moving... Sessamaru rises in a trance-like state, walking towards the black sword, its lure powerful. The blade calls to Sessamaru, reeling him in like a fish. His hand outstretched, the albino reaches for the blade. Shadowbane, that is my name...
"My malady..." he whispered, yearning for an elixer to make his blood thicker and his throat and lungs cleaner. His warm skin became hotter than the norm, sweat breaking out as he coughed his life's blood onto the dirt of the timeless wood, the Fable Stone dying, the sword becoming powerful. "Let me rest, friend... Let me rest for a moment," He whispered, his voice hoarse. His black lids grew heavy. The music of the wood became a lullaby, a horrific lullaby. Sessamaru fell over to his side, fast asleep with exhaustion. His breathing became labourous gasps.
The blades radiated with an awry cold, white light, their black tendrils dancing about, caressing the Fable Stone teasingly. Sessamaru stopped, staring at the blade. Twilight was dawning. Or was it? He looked up again, noticing that nothing in the heavens have moved. There was no wind, no air. Time has stopped here. Everything was grey, white, and black. He heard a tune in the air. A piano. A soft moving symphony. He also heard something else. An angelic chorus. Speaking the Forgotten tongue? Sessamaru seemed to waver, hacking up a terrible cough as he slumped to his knees. "What is this madness?" He askd through each coughing spasm, blood splurting past his lips.
The pulse got faster and faster, the demonic cry of the blades rattled his mind! He shook off the fear, away with the urge to scream and cry. He continued to walk towards the terrors, the nightmares, his mind focused on one thing... To rid the world of the swords. The Fable Stone at the Heart, too, cry... In sorrow, in its own demise... The Stone was beginning to lose its very soul. "Vile... Sad..." He whispered, eventually seeing a black and red aura.
Ooc: lol, you spelled it right. Sessamaru wandered the road, the dawn passing with its eerie coolness. The sun was purple as the sky differed in colour, his eyes were a strange shade as his skin and hair took on a purple hue. He sighed. This new world was strange to him. He continued to walk, towards the Heart, hearing and feeling the malevolent pulse of the soul-eating blades. This frightened him more than a little.
