Fight for Control and The Battle for Life (Honour)

The sounds of the waterfall growing closer, nearer with every step. The clear black sky overhead calmed even the wilds of animals tonight. A young lady walked through the woodland in a rush; almost in the night was her place to be in. Her fire hair glided through the air piercing through the darkness. She ran along the brink of the river knowing she’ll reach the falls soon enough. The moonlight lit the woods up in a dim light for any animal to make their way through.

Small clouds formed as she flew down the riverside with great speed. She could feel her heart pounding faster then it normally gets while she runs. Her chest moved up and down more rapidly then ever before, but Jezebel moved on. Daybreak was coming soon and the Mahatma would disappear again. She must get the ancient item before then or it could be lost again for other century. Jezebel didn’t know what it looked like, but she could feel it powers growing stronger with every step. The church never told her what kind of powers it has or even how to use it. She guessed even they weren’t sure of it history seeing how it jumps around so much.

What great force is coming out of it. I’m sure someone else must have picked up on it. Better hurry.

She leapt up onto a tree branch, leaping from there to the opening between the trees to get a view of the forest. Right in front of her she could see the waterfall just a few steps away from her. Her light body seems to float in the air longer then any other human as she took in the sight. As her body descends down she hit some leaves on the way she saw what had to be the Mahatma. Three birds flew from the treetops showing where she was, but it was too late for anyone else that might have been chasing after it.

Jezebel landed soft on the ground and jointed for the inner part of the falls. Her body was tired, but she had to make sure she got there before anyone else. The water flowed down from the hill fast and it didn’t seem that she would be able to reach it. The fast moving water continuously splashed and smash into the lime and coral red jewel.

Damn, she thought stopping to the side of the waterfall. She breathing was hard and rapid. She glanced up to the trees hoping to find some way to it. Her thoughts where wild and it took a minute before she realize she could reach it.

Jezebel begun to control her breathing, trying to focus her energy into a chain. It was tougher then normal because she was so tired, but slowly the off color gold chain formed and inched its way towards the. It pierced through the fall and Jezebel begun trying to pick up the little jewel with her chain. The chain hovered around the jewel while her thought of a way to do it. Finally she moving the chain to the back of the Jewel and inched it towards the jewel.

As the energy chain touched the ancient jewel and sharp pain struck her heart. She felt as if her inside her on fire and that her heart was being rip right out of her body. Tears rolled down her eyes without her wanting them to. She screamed uncontrollable in pain, grabbing hold of where her heart was. The jewel energy joined with Jezebel own and begun changing the gentle life force of Jezebel. She rolled around on the ground no long able to make a sound as it spread through her body.

The green energy inside her body fought to stay in control. It began attacking the foreign power while the power easily took over the body. Jezebel stood up and flames of pure energy formed around her body. She could feel the limitless powers flowing everywhere through her body. Then with one loud scream a blanket of energy shot out of her body taking out all the near by trees and part of the hill beside her. Particle of dirt and ash fall from the ground as the middle of her eyes turned red glaring…

Out of Character: Solomon Marsenii

In Character:

Leaves and moss crunched underfoot, and the hurried sounds of sharp breathing filled the air as one man trod across the forest floor to an objective that one would never hear him explain. Twigs, still green from the rainy spring season, snapped here and there as a heavy footfall splintered or crushed them in passing. The soil was moist, but not wet, and the air tingled with the softly settling dew that had come down during the nighttime. It was that hour between evening and full night, stars hovering above and glistening only slightly. Waiting for—watching for—their time to welcome the new night, but still visible and present. At midnight they were not yet shining at their brightest, but waiting to herald the new day, even during the night.

Ever present, ever lingering was that grasping, pulling force. The very instincts that drove the man into the oblivion of non-knowing, the solitude of a time without thought and beyond memory, were now driving him through the forest at the pace of a legionary on the run. His breathing was neither steady nor weighted, it was a running rhythm no more unnatural to him than the shallow panting of a wolf on the chase. That was what he had become, after all: a single man, chasing a single goal, with no more than the lingering feeling that what he was doing was unimaginably right. It was what he was meant to be doing at that hour, at that minute, at that second; the chase was what he was meant to be doing. What he chased, the man had no idea.

Something inside him knew, of course. As the trill of a night thrush rang into the woods, singing its evening song into the darkness, he felt himself drawn to what his instincts knew. In the non-knowing space of his mind, the eye of his thoughts could see the luster of a glowing jewel. As with a wolf, he had no clue what this jewel was, if it held purpose, if it was worth time or effort. As with a wolf, he recognized it as a thing that was not him. Perhaps the only difference between the man and the wolf was that the wolf would pass by the jewel, would ignore it as much as it would ignore the dead tree the man was passing by or a fallen apple like the one that the man crushed underneath his boot heel: the wolf would have no interest in either of those, and would have no more interest in the lustrous jewel.

The man sensed that there was something to that jewel that was worth time and effort. Even as he could feel the breeze lingering at his fingertips as he ran, or he could smell and taste the cool night air, he could feel that there was something to this jewel that he would want about him. He felt the ground begin to incline before him, and the length of his strides increased to keep pace with the jewel. Though he could neither smell, taste, touch, hear, or see the woman, he could sense that she was there just as he could sense that the jewel was there. He could also sense that she was closer, that she would gain it and that he would not ... and as he sensed that, it happened.

Even as the man gave a roar of fierce anger, a purely reflexive response to his desire being ripped from him, the woman touched the jewel and he was tossed from his feet. Debris formed a halo around his body, and the growing sense of reality that swept against him through his mind into a tumultuous state: insanity. The haversack straps could not bear the blast, and when the first ripped from his shoulders the second was not long in following. Even as he rolled across the soil, he felt the hefty backpack swing from his shoulders and heard it crash into a bush or three as it rolled away into the darkness. Fiery light sprang into his vision when he opened his eyes—he had not realized they were closed, but now he did, and that was important for a reason that his mind wrapped around only briefly before his hand closed upon his sword.

The blade seemed to tremble slightly as he drew out the silver length of it. Solomon Marsenii, he realized, had missed the feel of holding that sword. A smile spread across his lips, and he rolled neatly to his feet without even the slightest show of intention or attempt. The weapon in his hand had become a blazing white brand of forged metal, the hard silver glinting against the stars and the moon even through the loose canopy of the trees.

"I can see you," he whispered, staring straight ahead at the woman. A crater had formed around her, and he smiled. All his senses seemed to have pounced upon him from some unseen place, as if he had known they were there but never actually used them, and his eyes prickled from beneath his brow like twin spotlights.

He could see her.

He could see her.

He could see her.

And she was holding that jewel.

OoC: I hope you enjoy this post. I put a lot of work into it Honour.

BiC: Jezebel’s hair flickered through the air as she glared in pain at the Silhouette in front of her. The world through her eyes was just a blend of colors. Nothing made sense to her anymore, nothing at all. The jewel in her hand and the distortion of the world was apart of a bigger puzzle of what was happing to her. Most people would have panic from the images she saw do to the distortion, but she did not. The pain died down in her body for now and her breathing normal. Only the sound of the waterfall behind her could be heard in her ears. Even though there was many other sounds around that was the only one she heard. The figure in front of her twisted in her vision as she fought to understand what was happening.

Who is that? She questioned to herself as she took a step back. That little step felt like another person held onto her leg. What’s going on? She wondered blinking in hope to clear her vision. The only thing that happened was a small cloud of red mist shrouded her vision and the sharp pain came back. Jezebel’s face twitched and she dropped down low as if someone was controlling her. This wasn’t far off from the truth of what was really happening.

Her breathing became a smooth ocean tide as the red mist begun clearing her vision. Who is that? What is going on? Why can’t I control my body or powers? She thought with even more innumerable questions rushing through her mind like the waterfall did behind her. It was no question by now that something had entered her body and that it had quickly took over.

A small spear slowly formed from her back. She could feel the hot energy resting on her back as it mixed with her normal powers. Each link slowly formed making the weapon longer as it rose to the sky. The blood red and emerald chain swayed like a snake moving through grass. See could finally see everything clearly, but she still moved like a wild wolf hunting its prey.

Move! She though as she finally put everything together in her mind. Whatever had taken over was about to attack the strange man. Move, move, move, “M!!!” She finally got out before the chain soared through the sky like a rocket. The spear pierced through the air like butter, descending down, crushing into the earth missing its target, and disappearing back into Jezebel’s body.

It didn’t hit him. Thank god he isn’t a normal human with no combat sense. The odd new chain swam just blow her skin showing its self as it floated above her bones. The chain was like a wild animal hunting for food; only it hunted for the man’s blood. It wanted the blood of the man in front of them and it could wait until the time was right. Jezebel had very little control over her body, but she was able to speak now.

“Run!” She yelled out feeling the power was ready to attack again. “Run! Please! I can‘t control it!” A tear shred from her eyes as the pain of the chain coming out of her body shot through her. It felt like her skin was being burned by the power.

***

Drip; drip the sound of water droplets falling on a marble floor entered the mind of the young girl, relaxing her, but at the same time sending chills down her back. What was that? It wasn’t something that could have come from the outside world. No. This sound was in her mind… It teased her, as it grew louder and quiet at the same time.

It must be the jewel.

“Fight me, Fight me as much as you want!” It said to her in a cheerfully insane voice. It sounded like a clown trying to act happy at a birthday party. Just thinking about the thing in her made her sick and pissed at the same time.

“What do you want!?” Jezebel snapped back becoming angry at this clown with no form of his own.

“That it! That it! Feed of your anger and maybe he’ll die!” The voice joyful said to her. She imaged a little money was jumping around her as he talked in the most playful way.

“What do you mean? Nothing you just said made any sense!”

“It did. It did. Your just not smart enough to understand!”

“You little!” Jezebel yelled out wanting to grab the power and strangle it to death. As she grew angrier at the voice in her head the output of power grew. It was as if the voice wanted to make her angry in the first place.

“That it! That it! We can end this quick!” The little demon said as other chain formed out of her hand.

“Fight me you little shi*!” Jezebel said not realizing that she’d been yelling and not thinking anymore.

“Oh, but I am and I’m wining little lady.”

What he said confused her and made no sense at all to her. She was too angry to care; all she wanted to do was rip the head off the little being.

"Can ... not ... control it," he hissed, straightening up and twirling his sword over on finger. It was crafter for a larger man, but it spun like a top and flourished into his palm as if he had been born with it. The chain flying at him might as well have been a gnat, for all the energy he put into keeping it in his sight. His eyes were riveted on her. He could see the chain fine without trying.

The hard silver bladed swept up, left, spun, and struck the ground point first. A chain link was pinned beneath the tip, which seemed to fit perfectly in the magical metal she had sent at him. He gave it a curious glance, examining it closely. If he wondered what it was, he only wondered for a moment. The grip of the 13th Standard twisted with his fingers, grinding against the chain without pushing, sending a silver rope into the metal; it writhed as if it was being tortured, striking out at his leg, which was the only part of him within reach of the snakelike weapon. He moved smoothly, his foot slipping back then forward, crushing the hot metal into the dirt.

Smoke crept up from his boot. His foot felt a bit hot, but he ignored that. Heat was something to be ignored, not something to be feared. Too many good soldiers had died in the water to be afraid of the fire, and vice versa. Elements were a minor worry, to be quenched by the appropriate retaliation. In this case, a silver sword.

Snick.

One link in the chain cracked, snapped, and broke off completely. The metal underfoot cooled almost immediately, and his eyes flashed a mocking challenge, piercing into the depths of her eyes. His eyes glinted, meandered up and down her body. Nubile was the word to describe it, but he had little taste of flesh. He wanted blood. It had been far, far too long since he had been let out to play with it, bathe in it, drink it. The glint in his eyes sharpened as he met hers. Insanity was written in hers, just as it was in his. As the saying goes: takes one to know one.

"Little girl," he muttered, his voice an irreverent sneer, "you are losing."

He never thought about it. He did not need to think about it. If he thought of the sword, it would all end, and he did not want it to end ... so he did not think about the sword. He thought about other things, about blood and this woman and the insanity he recognized in her. The hard silver of his sword was shoved to the back of his mind, locked up, ignored. Its significance was insignificant and he wanted nothing to do with it. For now, he would soak himself in carnage. Carnage was a good distraction, it never failed, and there was never enough.

This would be the first. He would find more later. First, he would get her, end her. All he needed to do was get within reach, set a finger on her ... his sword would do the rest. Not that he thought about it. It was generally understood; arm's reach was sword's reach. It would all be over then. He just needed to get close enough.

OoC: Sorry Honour if there is too many mistakes. I haven't proofread in awhile.

BiC: “Oooo. He is stronger then I thought, but he also understands that you’ve lost.” the creepy voice muttered to its self, “so, why can’t you see it little girl? Hmm…”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!!” Jezebel yelled as another chain scorch out of her body and zoomed towards him with great speed. Cutting clear across the sky right for the swordsman that glared at Jezebel with his fearless blood thistly eyes.

The blade of the sword twirled around in front of him grabbing the snake like chain. His eyes still fixed on the crazed woman he pulled his sword towards himself with the odd chain wrapped around the blade of the sword.

Jezebel felt the small tug of the chain being pulled closer, but she couldn’t do anything to stop it. The evil power tried hard to pull the man closer to her. She could feel the chain slowly being ripped out of her body. The torturing pain she feel left her voiceless and she so dearly wanted to scream out it pain. Every muscle in her body contracted together, her mouth left open as she tired to scream out for it to stop. Her eyes turned blood shot and all hopes were lost if she couldn’t get some control over her body.

***

“What is this? What is this? Why are you in so much pain?” the voiced asked as it tried to get back control of Jezebel’s body.

“If you don’t give me back control we’ll both die here,” Jezebel said almost with a smile. She knew if she could get a little control over his powers then she’ll be able to fight him off. But first she needed to end this fight with the man that was killer her.

“Tell me. Tell me. What magic have you’ve cast to stop me from fighting?”

“Nothing at all. We will die here together if you do not let me take control and show you how to fight in this body.”

“Even if I do you won’t be able to control your powers as well.”

“That’s ok. After I take care of the problem you’ve given me I’ll will have killed you forever.”

“Like you could young lady. Hehehe,” the strange voice said disappearing off into the shadows of her mind.

***

A small smile formed on her face as the red chain disappeared and the pain quickly when away. She was out for blood, but the blood she wanted she couldn’t get. Her head tilted to the left as she got a view of the damage the power had caused already. Then looking back for her opponent she met him with her chain to his throat as they stood next to each other, his sword stopped by other chain in the air.

“Hello,” she said meeting his eyes for what felt like the first time. Then a strong hit to her face sent her flying back. She already knew this wasn’t going to be an easy battle, but at least she had some control over her power.

Jezebel’s body stopped as it slammed into the ground and her chains disappeared. That was something she didn’t think would happen, but again she was warned of this already and she didn’t know how bad the effect were going to be. “Damn demon inside of me,” she snarled spitting blood from her mouth.

"The damned demon inside you," he muttered, his fist unclenching and his eyes gaining a lurid glow entirely human: no animal could look so obsessively cruel. He glanced at her, lying there on the ground, smirked, and offered her a hand. The confusion on her face was a ploy. A chain, bladed at the end, flashed from her body and sliced a clean cut into his palm on its way to his face.

He moved to avoid it, clutching at the end with his wounded hand, and batted his sword playfully into the main links. The magical creation splintered and shattered, raining fragments of magic metal onto the ground between them. The amusement he had felt at seeing her thrown to the ground was dissipating, though the desire to prolong this fight was fading far more quickly. She obviously meant to do him serious bodily harm, a prospect he found playfully amusing but, in the end, just as much an annoyance as a common horse fly trying to bite him.

Like a horse fly, this woman needed to be crushed.

As she turned, bladed chains coming out from her torso, the man simply paused, swayed. Two chains missed him entirely and wrapped back around him, but the silver sword flashed in a blur of light as the ring of sheered metal pierced the air. The sword of all legions at work. It clove the air a hair's breadth from her nose, narrowly missing her.

The next chain, he allowed to come. His mind pierced into hers, for a moment only, knowing briefly. He stepped back, sidestepped, his hand flashed out: the chain was in his hand, the blade not even an inch from the hole of his fist. His smirk escalated to a predatory smile, his hand twirling in the air to pin the chain against his skin. Another came, but he sidestepped it and punctured its head, breaking the blade into harmless dust motes.

He pulled.

She was close now. He noticed that she did not smell too bad, for a woman trying to kill him, but that was a preoccupation. An insane man had little need for a woman, much less an insane one, to keep him company. Bets were off on whether she would be a willing participant, anyway, and he had absolutely no interest in the tastes of weak minded men. Rape was an impossibility.

"Hello," he said, grinning down at her face, "We have not been properly introduced, small one. What is your name?"

Sweet, that was the single word that ran through her mind as she moved closer to the man that had hold of both chains. “Its not right to ask a lady her name before giving yours out first,” she said having the chains disappear out of thin air. Jezebel had already begun judging him from the first time she saw him. She’d just finished her judgment of him and it wasn’t a good thing on her part. Jezebel judged him as a good person and that meant she could no longer kill him.

She stepped back a few steps as she kept her green eyes glued onto the odd man she‘d been fighting. Not only did she have to get control of the power inside her, but also she had to make it look like she wanted to kill this man. “But I have to say stranger, you sure can fight.”

***

“Hehehe, what is taking you so long?” the sickening voice of the power asked.

“He’s stronger and faster then I first thought. Don’t worry; he’ll die soon enough. Just let me take care of things.”

“I’m sure he will. One way or other, he will die,” it replied as it echoed off into the distant.

***

With the voice in her mind out of the way Jezebel launched forward shooting two chains out of her hands. Both glided through the air falling just short of where he stood. He ran forward after her, she pulled the chains back, having them fly right for him. One chain sliced the top of his left shoulder while the other just missed his side.

He was getting closer, and closer with his sword. She wouldn’t be able to take him on up close she already knew that much about this fight. She took a sharp right and he followed right behind her still catching up quickly. A chain flew out of her back and crushed into the dirt, yanking her backwards. Flipping in mid air the chain disappeared and she shot another one into the ground launching her higher. As she flew over his head she shot one more chain that he caught.

Jezebel’s body felt the tug before he even did it as she came crashing back down to the ground. Her body flew right towards him with no chance in direction at all. His sword quickly spun around and swung right at her, but only meant the metal chains covering her arms and legs.

It pushed her back and she landed right in front of him once again. Red marking begun to appear on her chains and she knew it was the power trying to take over again. Jezebel called forth more of her energy to block the weaken jewel.

***

“What going on? Why are you blocking my help little one?”

“Not so funny when you’re not in charge is it?” She said, thinking how her green energy must be eating at his little red body. It almost made her laugh knowing he was growing weaker now that she wasn’t in a rage.

“I could give you ungodly power. This battle would be over if you just let me-”

“No. I’ll learn to use your power and I’ll end this fight. You were too late in catching my energy taking over again. Kind of sad really, but after it has killed you I’ll be free to control your powers too.”

***

But first, Jezebel thought glaring at the man she’d been fighting. “My name is Jezebel and what might your name be?” It had been a while since she had a fight this good. It wouldn’t end until both the power was gone and he had lost. That is the way she saw it in her mind.

One eye drooped into a lazy wink, though not at her, as he ran an index finger over the slice wound in his shoulder. A trace of crimson stained the tip of the digit. The man raised his eyes to her again and drooped his head sideways, a coy smile touching his lips. His attention was mostly elsewhere by this point.

"My ... name?"

His head dropped down, chin against his chest, and he wracked his brain with obvious effort. The grip he had on the sword slackened steadily. The Sword, now he remembered. The Sword. It was the sword, was it not? It had to be. His eyes scanned over it, lifted to hers. The smile on his face dwindled to a vague expression of confusion and hurt. Only for a moment, it was there, but for that moment he knew all. Blood rushed into his cheeks, sending flame into his face, and he took a quick step back. A single glance around was all it took: the expression was gone. Whatever sense of being had been there just moments ago was clearly absent now.

An expressionless stranger, that was what he was. Her question was long-forgotten, if it had ever been remembered in the first place, as was her name and the reason for fighting. If there was a reason for fighting at all, that is. Now he was just the man. Alone, in a cold and damp and lonely place, with an enemy clawing for his life and an absence of mind that could protect him or destroy him in this atmosphere of danger. He had never been forced to fight in this state of mind. He had no idea that he was going to be forced to fight, either, but that made it no less a fact.

If Jezebel sensed or saw the change in him, it would probably be assumed that it was a change to her advantage. It would be honesty itself to say that everything about him which could be changed had been changed. His posture was straighter, more exact, more harsh. His eyes, sharp and clear before, were now dim and absent, roaming across the trees and the dirt and everywhere except at her. His hands, once ready and nimble, held the red-stained wood of the sword with carelessness that would bring harsh words from the simplest of swordsmanship trainers. His stance, though, was precision and perfect: legs spread exactly to the width of his shoulders, strong leg—the right—back for good balance. His expression was flat and dead, absent as his mind had become absent.

To apply colors to the change would be to say that he had changed from black to gray. Black: stark, harsh, angry and entirely inhospitable, but with that alluring charm that draws people to it as magnets draw iron. Gray: bland, boring, and as toneless as anything could be, as tasteless as those who chose to associate themselves with it. Even the most boring person usually had a more colorful color to describe them ... yellow or tan or the like. Gray fit this man perfectly, a dead color.

A chain pierced his left forearm and punched all the way through, drawing his eyes. The sword hand twitched, almost too quickly for the eye to follow, and then the chain was gone. Even a keen and avid observer would have had to struggle to see the movement, but the aftermath was obvious. Even after the chain had disintegrated from his arm and almost two feet after it, silver color was creeping up it like a spreading disease. It wound its way towards the beginning of the chain even as another shot out and was intercepted by the blade of the sword.

It erupted in a plume of silver-white dust just as the creeping silver of the other chain connected with her body. No expression change heralded the connection, but any moderately clever person would have understood that this change of events heralded a very bad turnaround in the process of the fight. The pain would start soon.

The strange liquid sliver clawed up the chain user arm. It didn’t hurt her, but it wasn’t pleasing to watch as it made its way higher. She rapidly glanced between the sliver and the man that stood still. The sliver had seem to stop making its way up her arm soon after it started. She stared at it forgetting the man she’d been fighting. Everything had stopped around them, everything but the waterfall that still flowed freely.

“UUUUUGGHGGHHHHHHH!!!” Sharp pain shot from her heart, she grabbed it clasping to the dirt ground below. Her eyes turned red and two very short chains shot out of her body. One was a golden-greenish chain with a line of sliver swirling around it. The other was blood red, burning her skin and set firer to her shirt. Sliver surround the base of the red chain as it clawed up it, coating it in it sliver.

Her whole body contorted onto the ground as the pain consumed her every feeling. “What- have-,” she fought with everything she had to get that much out of her mouth. She left eye glowed dark green, pulsing, it also was in pain. Whatever the sliver was, was hurting her life energy. It was unlike anything she have every seen in her life. The pact she made with her human energy was being ripped right out of her heart. She could feel the sliver liquid inside her body covering her heart, blocking her powers food.

“IUGGHHH!” she screamed out in pain rolling around the dirt. Her other eye had now turned red and pulsed much slower then the other. “I must kill you,” she grumbled in a evil way. Her glare that she sent out to him only knew hatred and pain. She thought were only to live and kill…

“You must be the son of the devil himself,” she managed to say. Her pain she felt could be heard clearly in her voice. She pumped as much life energy she could out of her body making chains all around her body. She fought to stand even with all the pain she felt. Jezebel held her heart, clinging to it. She was in trouble and nothing was going to save her not even god. She smiled a bit at the thought god wasn’t going to save her.

She formed a chain in her hand, holding it as it hung dead off her hand. She didn’t know how she was going to win and her chain was very weak. Silver, red, gold and green flowed through out the magical weapon. She could move without feeling the pain an, yet she stood ready to fight. She even fought to keep the chain from disappearing just sitting in the palm of her hand. She took a step and fell to one knee in pain, but the madness in her eyes showed no fear. She stood back up and stepped again, fight the pain, the jewel, the sliver, and him…

The man never moved, but for the sway of his body in the breeze. The waterfall, crashing nearby, was no more an interest to him than the woman who was weeping and screaming before him. For all intents and purposes, he was detached from the world and its inhabitants, but for the single line attaching them: presence. He was still in the world. He could still hear her. He could move and, if he wanted, he could probably kill her.

He wanted nothing. The man would never want anything, now when he was as he had become. To want was to be, and he was not. In body he existed, in mind he did not. The body followed something else, something that had touched him or was touching him or possibly something that would touch him sometime in the future. What it was, he did not know. Others knew. Some bright mind had foreseen it happening, a prophesy or a hunch or a moment of mental clarity. There was one who knew, at least one.

The man did not know. When he stepped forward, the sword twitching up to avoid the ground, he was deaf to the cries of her pain and blind to the effects the silver, that tiny sliver in her soul, as it wreaked its indescribable, unknown purposes within her. Silver was a metal of purity. She was being purified. That was simple. Even that simple thing, that fact, that tiny kernel of knowledge, was not grasped within his mind as he stepped to her, halting and standing over her. His eyes, clouded gray and every bit as distant as the horizon, stared through her.

A voice, gravelly and quiet, whispered into her ear with words that rolled from the tongue and had no meaning. The voice paused, began again, this time in halting breaths and guttural sounds dark and dismal and just as pointless as the rolling syllables. He straightened, his expression the same mask, and took a step back before turning and moving away to gather his cloak, his haversack. His hands closed on the cloth of the cloak for a moment, dropped them, and he stood straight again.

The man turned to look back at her, seeing her for a moment, and blinked. He recognized the pain, the anguish, the horrible sense of hopelessness, and knew that she feared no death by his hand. The things he knew came upon him, forced him to move towards her again. His hand raised, the silver sword glinting harshly against the moonlight, and fell. A swishing sound cleared the air between them, like a broom, and he closed on her again.

"Do you want to die?" he asked, his voice a leering interrogative. The insanity had returned, but it was tempered this time. Quieter, more sedate, he stared at her as an evil man would stare upon the tiny morsel on an orphan's plate: desiring, lusting to take it away and crush it beneath his boot, to show how little it meant and how little it was worth. He wondered if she had sunken so deep into the pain that she would give that morsel to him willingly.

“Heh,” she uttered, the pain that shot through her body had grounded her. She could only stare at him, slowly giving into the pain that consumed her body. She wanted to laugh at his question, but it was to hard to even talk. Her skin, filled with little black marking from her shirt burning off her body. She had felt more pain than any human would fill in a life time and he asked did she want to die.

Yeah, she thought glaring into his eyes. Her hair freely flowed down her back and covered a good amount of her face. That would be the easiest thing to do. Tears fell down her cheeks from the pain that had taken over her body. Each pulse in her eyes grew slowly every passing minute. She could feel end of the chain that pierced her heart almost all the way out. She was about to door, knocking on it, waiting for it to end. The pain that she felt had no human word that could be used. She powers still fought to live even though her body has given up.

***

Deep in the darkest, coldest walls of the church Jezebel stood in the middle of the chamber. Her hair flowed wild and her eyes fearless. She shot out her beautiful chain that she’d master at summoning finally. The demon on the other in of the room she call master grabbed the weak chain attack and tossed her across the wall.

“You’ll never be able to beat anyone with that weapon. It wasn’t meant to be used as a weapon. You leave yourself open way to much with it,” he said pulling her down. She’d put everything into learning how to make a pact with her heart. She training night and night pushing her body to the limit just for the dream to be able to leave the walls of the church.

“NO!” she shout with the sound of a demon waking up inside her. She wouldn’t let herself be put down after all the hard work she’d done for far.

“Why don’t you give up and become a book worm like all the other women Jezebel?” He mocked her, making her blood boil. “You’ll die if you keep fighting me the way you are,” he said forming knife in his hand. “If this was training you would have been dead alright.”

“Shut up!” she yelled dashing at her master a chain formed around her fist. He threw the knife, she formed other chain at where the knife hit her. She got close and sent a push at him. All her anger and will to move on was inside the punch.

***

“Like I could die before I get the chance to live,” she said clearly without thinking what she could be true. She could feel the sliver liquid harden around her heart. Her energy that fought to feed of it once more and her life force that was slowly coming to a end. Her hair waved freely to the wind, as she coved her fist in chain and shot a deadly punch at Solomon face.

He quickly spun the sword around hitting her arm that was covered in chains. She many that he didn’t break through all of them. She twisted her hand around grabbing the blade of the sword it self. Her eyes stayed fixed on his as the pulse her green eye grew faster. She could feel some the silver freeing up around her heart. The burnt marking of the church showed freely on her arm. It was a scar would never disappear just like church its self.

***

“Jezebel, you are the first female I ever passed. If you keep the will to fight in her your soul and trust the human inside you nothing can will beat you,” her master told her burning the mark of the church onto her arm.

***

“What a lie master,” she said as if talking to the sky. She wasn’t ready to die, she wasn’t going to die, and what she really wanted was to kick him. She grip on the blade was strong and her blood dripped on the ground. It was amazing to think she could still fight or even have the will to fight after so much pain.

She was slowly being out muscled, dropping below the swing of the sword and just as quickly she sent a round house kick to the face of Solomon. The kick smashed right into his face and the chains she coved her foot in disappeared just as quick. The jewel hadn’t given up it fight to take over nor did the sliver that ran rapid throughout her body. She cold glare showed her will to live on and her fearlessness to death. “Jezebel. Remember it while you can,” she said raising up from the ground. She was pissed, angry, a shame, and cold. “It might be the last name you hear.”

"It is such a lovely name," the man commented, idly swinging the blade idly to pierce another of her chains. The chain fragmented and crumbled from her arm to reveal another beneath it. There was probably another beneath that, and another, growing out as quickly as he could destroy them.

The hard silver glinted as the man took a step back, resting the flat of the blade in the upraised palm of one hand. His eyes wandered over her body, taking in at a glance what she seemed to be going through. Pain was written on her every movement, mirrored in every feature of her face and every gesture of her body, but he could see the determination. It radiated from her as a tangible force, a presence of willful sacrifice. She would die to prove something to him. What it was, exactly, he had no idea. If she had anything more in her than she had already shown him, it would probably be just as weak and ineffectual against him.

After a silent moment, the feverish insanity faded again. The tempered glaze that had been upon it was merely a dominating force of the in-between, waiting to subdue his mind the moment it let go the grips on reality. It had gained momentary freedom in order to taunt the pained woman, but it was ultimately ignorant and worthless of the hold upon it. The man was unknowing again.

Now he stood still, the insanity having not gained enough control to change the movements of the body more than a little, and waited for the woman. Whether by accident or conscious force, the man understood that he would be unable to walk away from this fight until the woman had made her peace with death or fallen unconscious. The natural order of the world was being disturbed by this one, stubborn woman. Even in his ignorance, the man could sense the unnatural desire within her: to live, to avoid death, to do, to be. Such human weaknesses were commonplace. They tainted the world and made it nearly unbearable to take two steps in a day.

Some, if they had the wisdom, would most likely assume that it was the sword that pushed him under the force of ignorance, that the glinting white edge and the crimson grip had some magical property to force his hand and mind and body. This was, perhaps, a truth to one extent. The sword was tied to him in an undeniable way. It was almost a part of him, now, and it could not be taken from him, certainly not broken, and to destroy it completely would be impossible. It was not merely the sword holding him. The sword was a shackle, an earmark, a mark. That which held him used the sword, and through the sword it used him.

All this would be a difficult thing to deduce, even for a very wise person. Had it not been told by a man who was intimately knowledgeable of the sword and its properties, it would seem almost like a fantasy. The simple fact was that it was true.

The man mumbled something without meaning, his eyes clouding over as he looked through her again, swaying in the wind. The wind was becoming more regular, harder, and colder. Morning was far away yet, but the night could yield up a storm just as readily as the day. Perhaps this fight would last to see the storm. Perhaps this fight would last to see the day. No matter what, Solomon would wait quietly, unknowing, in the recesses of his own mind.

The sword slashed out diagonally towards the woman, coming down from over her head in such a way that it would cleave her in half if it struck.

Jezebel quickly throw her hands up catching the blade of the sword in her hands. Chains covered the palm of her hands as she pushed the magical sword of the way. Forcing the blade of out way she jumped up still with one hand on the blade of the sword and kicked him again. He swung the blade into the air and she fly down landing on the ground punched the dark man in the gut. He came down again in hopes to find her body, but she stopped the blade with her hands again. Being thrown back by the force of the swing, quickly she ran in close again.

The blade came twirling around at her body again, she dodged it, dashing in at him and punched him in the face again. She wanted him to feel, feel the pain he and the jewel had put her through. See if his would still have the will to fight even after everything turn it back on him. The sliver on her arm slowly built a crack in it as her power fought harder than it ever did.

Her energy, the human energy that she learned to unlock with her swam throughout her body like a tided wave. It glowed a deep dark green in her eyes taking over even the low pulsing red. It feed off of anything it could in side her body, eating the power that jewel gave her. Slowly her chains continued to change colors as did the power inside her.

She wasn’t stronger than him, she wasn’t as good with her weapon has he was, but she was going to live on. The sword came again down after her and she blocked in with her arm. Pieces of chain fell and disappear has the sword crashed into her body. She grabbed the with her hand, blood dripped off the blade. She eyes stared at the him, pure green from her power racing through her body.

She felt the pain, but she paid it no mind, dashing forward, punching right in the chest and fly over him head. Two dark green with a red line going down the middle of the chain flew out of her hands. The chain ripped a large piece of the silver that covered her hand. The chains rapped around his arms before he could even cut the chain he went flying threw the air. He crashed right in first of her and quickly, Jezebel sat on top of him. Her foot held down the arm that held the sword and chain aided her.

She rested her chest on top of his with other chain holding up his neck. “Are you good or evil? I don’t know the answer anymore,” she said calmly, she was driven by madness. The madness to live on and somewhere in the back of her mind she thought about her teaching. She wouldn’t be able to kill him if he was good. “Join my church. Because a slave of there’s or die,” it was a offer that she never had the chance to make.

She rose up, getting of his chest and releasing his arm. “Or you can give me everything you got as a fighter.”

The concept of joining a church was amusing. The man savored the prospect for a moment, holding the thought carefully in his mind as a farmer would hold a particularly dangerous snake which had been caught in a peculiarly amusing way. It was of interest that this woman had offered him membership in a church, of all things, and offered him a chance to fight her to the death in the very same sentence. The prospect was hilarious, the context was laughable, and the environment in which it was offered was nothing short of absolute irony: they stood in the disastrous wake of the power within the woman, disaster which had been wrought by fire and metal, yet she offered him a place inside a church.

"Your church is not a place of peace and tranquility, I gather," he sneered, snapping forward onto his feet in the manner that was taught to legionaries. He twisted the sword in his grip and speared it forward. The blade caught between the chains and began slicing inwards, destroying the metal underneath the outermost layer the instant it was touched.

Jezebel flinched back, her arm whipping out of reach just as the hard silver glinted before her eyes and sliced a short, red line across her sternum. The very tip came to rest against her navel, touching briefly as the nearness of death lingered in her half-crazed eyes, before she took a step back. It was a calm, collected step. She was entirely aware that the man had no intention of killing her at that moment; how she knew was uncertain, but it was obvious by her manner that she knew that he was making a point in counter to her own. It was a simple statement.

I can kill you.

The obviousness of the fact had permeated the entire struggle, had been in the air since the beginning and survived until this key moment. The two of them knew that had it been his desire, he may well have ended the conflict before it had ever began. There were reasons. The man was insane enough to understand them, for an inkling of a moment. There was the unmentionable, unthinkable object first.

The hard silver shined under the light of the moon, catching and refracting with every twitch and flicker and vibration that ran across its perfectly-forged surface. It was unthinkable, but the strength in it was oppressive and dangerous. Though insane, the insane man knew well that it was the object in his hand allowing him to fight so. It tortured him. The knowledge that was not knowledge, the fear that could never be feared. He allowed the sensation of hate build inside him, like bile, as his fingers gripped with punishing strength upon the crimson wood.

It was his insanity as much as the object, the Sword. He knew nothing of the sword, allowed himself to think nothing of it, but his insanity was as powerful a creature as the weapon in his own, highly capable hands. His lips curved in a smile as he whipped the object forward, rent more of her chains asunder. The wooded area had gone still and quiet, all life having drained from it as the clash began.

"I can kill you," he taunted.

Out in the far distance of the battlefield the echoing sounds of foot step treading across the grassy land quickly. Only a small shadow of a man could be seen from the speed at which he moved. The dark forest made it hard for any human to walk it in but he moved quickly along it as if he’d live it from ages. All the animals around him where ran from the terrifying sense of power and blood his bought with him. “Jezebel…” he said stopping only for a moment to feel her powers leaking out of her body. He could feel it, feel her life force draining out, hear it screaming for help, feel it’s pain. “Stupid people. Sending her after the Mahatma. They are luck if I made it in time.” He jumped up into the treetops and dashed towards where he felt Jezebel’s life force.

***

“Neeeever!” her power exploded out of her body in a flash of green, red and sliver. Her back ached back as she stared up at the moon. Her body felt lifeless and the strange magical powers floated in the air clearly being seen by the mad man. He can in for an attack on the lifeless Jezebel only to have dark green energy chain come fly down ripping into his arm.

The sliver pool of magic attacked and attached it’s self to the green chain. But it just ended up fusing with the chain forming spikes around the chain. The new chain detached it self from the sliver greenish pool of power and rapped around the sword arm and attached its self to the ground. The Mahatma power gave laughed, sending out an echoing sound of laugher through out the sky.

***

The man stopped again hearing the sound of laugher through out the air. He could feel something had happened, but now he hear laugher. The sky just head was lighten up bright; it was unlike anything he had ever seen. The power output was higher then even his but he could feel that it was not under control. He feared what could happen if this power level was ever control by someone. “I must hurry.”

***

“Die Jezebel!” It shot its self right into the pool of magical energy that was her powers coving its self over it. The blood pool of energy slowly soaked into the pool of life and mixed its self in. Her body fell, crashing into the ground at Solomon feet. Her eyes closed and she hadn’t been moving at all since her human energy left her body.

Die? Her master though as he saw the body come into sight. He reached the body in no time after it came into view and that all he saw until he hear a odd growl from Solomon trying to rip away from the chain that held him down on the dirt now. “What happen here?” he questioned looking up at the sky. It was as if a storm was raging up above him. A storm of power that was fighting to be the supreme ruler.

“I must work quickly if I going to keep her a live.” He quickly swept his hand across Jezebel’s body. His hand glowed red and a small line ran down from his palm. A tiny hook formed at the end of it as it entered her lifeless body. He glanced up at the sphere of energy that twirled around sucking up the world’s energy. “Not good.”

He threw up his other hand that glowed bright blue and like a fishing line tossed it at the sphere catching it in his magical line. He tugged it hard changing the path it took, sending it back towards Jezebel’s body. It dived right for her body and entered it attacking anything that was still living in it.

A gold mist covered her master’s eyes and he could eye the massive chaotic energy roam wildly in her body. He focused more on the red lifeline he sent in to her body. He watched at it made its way to a black wall that seemed to be covering, protecting something. “There you are.” A smile came over his face as the hook easily passed the wall and shattered it. “Soul releaser. Jezebel wake up and fight with all your heart and soul!” he yelled as his hands stopped glowing and he watched a white foggy looking liquid slowly move through out her body. Her blood begun to flow, her heartbeat returned and she opened her eyes. He quickly sent a blow to her gut knocking her out again letting her soul take control of the wild power that almost killed her.

The chains disappeared around Solomon body and both Jezebel and the strange man disappeared before he could get back up. Her master carried her on his back as he made his way back through the forest. “Damn. She going to be hard to control when she finally waken this new gift,” he said jumping across the stream and down the dirt path.

OoC: Thank you Honour for the great battle, but even the best of battles have to end some time. Here is the ending post.