|A teenage-looking boy woke up. He got dressed in his black robes, pulled his hood on, and set out for Mooshu.
He was called Death.
Death's aura spread as he traveled around Mooshu. There was a faint blackness around him, but not much because it was Mooshu. He walked over to the Tree of Life, headed for the main tree.
Death pushed aside the stone and traveled down the long passageway. Then he got to a cavern. He stumbled upon a door, newly painted yellow, and Myth's symbol etched in the middle in blue. Death knocked on the door.
The door swung open to reveal a blonde haired boy with bright blue eyes in yellow and blue robes. He smiled. "Ah, Death," He greeted. "A good surprise. Come on in." Death nodded and entered into a room with a stone fireplace, weapon-making tools, and a forge. Racks hanging with hammers, forging tools, and swords were hung on the tan wall. Across from the door in which Death had entered was another entryway. The room smelled of burning metal and the heat was almost exhausting.
Death turned to the boy. "I see that you are making preparations for the war against Valkoor?" He inquired.
The boy nodded. "I'm trying to make as many swords and wands as I can."
Death smiled, but his hood shrouded it. "You've always been a master forger, Myth," Death complemented.
Myth smiled and bowed his head in thanks.
"But, however," Death said. "I have an idea. Back when Valkoor was the monster, how did we defeat him?"
"We all combined our powers into one," Myth remembered.
Death nodded his approval. "Right. And this time, I have a feeling Valkoor will be stronger then he was last. So I was thinking, maybe the only way to defeat him this time is to forge a weapon with all of our powers into it."
Myth hesitated. "That's pretty risky," He said. "What if Valkoor got ahold of it?"
Death smiled. "He won't." He laid a hand on Myth's shoulder. "I need you to create a blade. Then we'll get the other wizards, and combine our powers into one."
Myth thought for a second. "There are other ways, Death," He reminded. "We just haven't found them yet."
"But would we find them in time?" Death inquired.
Myth had no answer.
"I need you to forge the blade," He said. "For right now, there's no other way. He will be stronger then the last, and you know it."
Myth reluctantly agreed.
That night, after Death left, Myth outlined the design for the sword. He made changes and added things, making sure for the sword to be just right. Then after Myth was positive it would do, he forged the blade, but it was not together. It was split into seven pieces.
The day following, all of the Legendarys came together. Myth explained the situation to them. "We must combine into one once more." He nodded to Storm.
Storm acknowledged Myth, then picked up a piece, and concentrated on the steel, closing his eyes. Gradually, the piece turned from silver to purple. After Storm put power into his piece, he set it down. Now it was Ice's turn. She concentrated on the piece, and after a while, it became blue. Then Fire turned her piece into a firey red. Then Death poured his power into his. And so forth, after all the pieces were completed.
After all the pieces had power in them, Myth set them together again, and forged the pieces into one sword. After an hour of burning, the blade was together, and Myth rushed to a tank of water and dipped the whole blade into the water, cooling it off. After a few minutes, he pulled it out. If it was not cooled completely, he would dunk the blade back in, until it was a normal temerature.
The ending result was great. Myth studied the blade. It was like a scimitar, and a little holographic. It switched from color to color every second, confusing some people on its true color.
"The Blade of Seven," Myth breathed.
"What's that?" Destiny asked.
"Long ago," Jason explained. "It was back when Valkoor was returning. The wizards were making preparations for the upcoming war. Storm practiced fighting. Ice began stratagizing. Fire tried despreately to look into the future. Myth forged weapons. Life readied her healing spells. Balance helped with whatever he could find. But Death had other ideas.
"He walked up to Myth one day and asked him to build a sword. A powerful sword. Myth agreed, and, one by one the wizards poured their magic into the sword. The Blade of Seven was therefore created.
"And shortly after, a battle with Valkoor and his followers arose. Both sides fought desperately, but in the end, it was the wizards who won the first battle, with the help of the Blade of Seven. But the victory was short-lived. Valkoor began to see how he could steal the sword, and win the war with its help. Fire saw this, and cried on the Legendarys for desperate help. They decided that, in order to keep Valkoor from getting ahold of it, they had to split the blade into the seven pieces from which the sword had originated from. They cut the blade, and gave one piece to each wizard to protect with his or her life. And they did. And when they all died, they hid the pieces in a super secret spot." Jason held the yellow shard. "This is Myth's piece. He camoflauged it well."
Destiny nodded. Then she remembered back at Thorn Manor, when Vladimir had mentioned a blade. "Oh my gosh," Destiny said. "Vladimir's after the sword!"
Jason nodded. "He knew that Myth's shard was there. He had lost it when Neela had given it to the patrolkrok. When Neela had seen he no longer had it, apparently they tried everything to get the shard. Raiding the base. Giving the Krokodial. And if you had indeed crushed the piece, we would all be at a loss."
"Apparently Vladimir needs it for something he needs to do," Destiny said. "The Blade of Seven is the only item missing out of three."
"Did you find out what the other two were?" Jason inquired.
Destiny nodded. "The Onyx of Darkness and the Helm of Power."
"Oh, Destiny, do you even realize-"
"Yes, Life told me."
Jason sighed. "Apparently the Legendarys like you or something. You keep running into them! Only a matter of time before you shake Myth's hand and have a conversation with Death!"
"Lets focus!" Destiny said. "Just how powerful is this blade? Like, I know it's the Legendary's sword and everything, but, is it even worthwhile?"
Jason stared at Destiny as if she had just grown a million extra arms. "The Blade of Seven is only the most powerful weapon in the spiral and make the wielder nearly invincible! How can you even joke? If he gets the sword, there's no stopping him!" Jason hesitated, then said, "Unless..."
"Unless what?" Destiny asked.
Jason sighed. "Nothing. It's nearly impossible, anyways."
"What isn't possible?" Destiny inquired.
"The only way the Blade of Seven can be stopped," Jason said. "The Pure Descendant."
"Pure Descendant?" Destiny asked.
"A Pure Descendant contains the blood of all seven Legendarys," Jason explained. "A Pure Descendant must have Storm's strength, Ice's knowledge and wisdom, Fire's ability to forsee, Death's cunning, Myth's creativity and ability to forge, Life's compassion, and Balance's judgement. In history, so far only one has come up. He has passed away already."
"Who's that?" Destiny asked.
"A boy called Marcus Dawngem," Jason said. "He lived to be a grandmaster pyromancer, and he was truly great," Jason sighed. "His life ended in a truly sad way."
"What happened?" Destiny asked.
"He was killed," Jason said. "We don't know how, or who."
"If he was killed," Destiny reasoned. "You should know who did it, or at least how."
Jason shook his head. "Actually, it was kind of like paralysis. One day he was just fine in perfect health, the next he was laying on his bedroom floor, mouth and eyes wide open his skin pale, and his heart not beating. He just... died. He had to be murdered."
Destiny agreed, then said, "So, you're thinking that maybe we could possibly find a pure descendant, just in case Vladimir forges the blade?"
Jason nodded. "One problem," He said. "We don't know if a Pure Descendant currently exists, besides Marcus. And who KNOWS how many pieces Vladimir has while we only have one."
Destiny thought. "Knowing us," She finally said. "We HAD to have come across a piece. Apparently we just didn't know it."
Jason scratched his chin and nodded. "We might have," He said.
Destiny closed her eyes and remembered her very recent adventures in Mooshu, her mission in Marleybone, the betrayal in Grizzlehiem, her time in Krokotopia-
It then hit her.
She opened her eyes rapidly, and ran faster then she had ever run before up the slope after she called out, "I know where Ice's Shard is!"
Back in Marleybone, Vladimir was talking to Neela.
"I've been thinking," He said. "We have the advantage in so many ways. We have two of the key components to our plan, we've got five of the seven pieces, and we know where another is, we hold the Krokodial, we even have the second half of the Prophecy of Fire the Order of the Spiral probably don't even know about." He turned and stared at Neela coldly. "But they do have a huge advantage, numbers."
"Numbers?" Neela was confused.
Vladimir sat up straight. "The only reason that we lost Myth's Shard and lost the battle of Mooshu," He continued. "Was simply because they had more people then we did. As Destiny had said, eight and three. We need more people for our cause."
Neela nodded. Now she understood. "I was strolling through Olde Town the other day," She said. "I overheard a group of boys. Seems like they might be willing to fight for us, as long as we pay them right."
Neela had grasped Vladimir's attention. "Depends," He said. "What schools do they take? What rank are they?"
"A master diviner, two pyromancers, an adept and a master, a grandmaster conjurer, heck, even another adept, this time a theurgist," Neela replied.
"We do need other people besides necromancers," Vladimir mused. "Having different schools could prove useful."
"Exactly my point."
Vladimir nodded his understanding. Now with so many advantages that the Order of the Spiral didn't even realize, they were sure to win.
The sprite fluttered around Unicorn Way.
The sprite sighed. She needed a break from her coloney, her duties that replaced her now banished rival.
But she was about to understand her enemy's predictament.
Because now she saw a necromancer. He had short blue hair, a black bandit cap, a robe with storm markings on it, and a clockwork staff. But how he looked wasn't what got her attention. It was what he spoke of.
"I'm really wondering who that charmed sprite is," The necromancer said to another necromancer. "I'm beginning to think that she may play a vital role."
The sprite fluttered over to the blue-haired necromancer. She wondered how she could speak with him; they began teaching the sprite language when theurgists reached masterdom. Even then, few were fluent. Then she got an idea. The sprite zoomed over to the necromancer, fluttered in his face for a few seconds, then led his gaze to some fresh dirt. In the dirt, she had carved the words, Who exactly is this sprite?
"Um, black hair, pale skin, red dress, red eyes, more death-looking," The blue-haired boy replied.
She knew it! This was the description of her rival! The sprite wrote, What is she called?
"I heard a girl call her Nikki," The necromancer responded.
Are you against her?
"I guess you can say that,"
The sprite grinned. She knew she hadn't rid of Nikki! She wrote, Nikki is an old rival of mine. Will you allow me to join this cause? Communication will be a tad bit short, but we can figure things out.
"Maybe. What would you be called?" The necromancer inquired.
The sprite grinned and wrote, Lady Lily. What may I call you?
The necromancer kneeled and said, "Cody Shadowstrider. If you are with us, come." Cody walked away.
Lily gladly followed.
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