A spirit disturbed [OPEN]

Spinning the pack once more, he noticed something out of the corner of his eyes. A person shrieking back from someone that was not him. Interesting, if only because usually all of the heroic spirits inspired awe and were seen as such. Heroes. The word alone stale and abused to such a degree that it had become a running gag. All of them had died at least once for one or another reason. Being forgotten, being killed, being eradicated and then there was the normal people like him. Dying in bed. A peaceful end surrounded by his huge family, or as his legend and sometimes his memory showed an evil smith killed, another memory told of him being burned and so on and so on.

And even though he could relate to the normal death the most, it felt the most unreal to him. Flicking the pack up and catching it, he followed the scared guy´s eyes and saw an old woman sitting at one of the table. A weird serenity surrounding her. No wonder she scared anyone if she suddenly moved, looking as if she was half dead and so old she could be the grandmother of grandmothers. And yet she seemed more lively than some of those people cowering to the walls and trying to get as far away as possible from the two of them. In the end, that and her staring at him made her enough of an anomaly that it was prudent to hear what she wanted from him.

Standing up slowly, not to scare more people but rather because there was no hurry, he walked over to her. Tilting his head a little at the close by people staring at him, making them scatter and look for their little mice holes to scurry into. Sitting down across from her, he smiled, putting his best one on and said: "I could not help notice your stares and wondered what you might want, old woman. My name is Muramasa." So far he had no reason to think it was a nice meeting, but he usually took on challenges and this seemed like just another one. Also, seeing how she was his senior in age, he felt he should show at least enough respect to open the talk. His red eyes slowly swirling and his hands neatly placed on top of the table, the pack of cigarettes to the side, he could not help but wonder why this felt like it could be interesting and why he was curious about this one.

A normal rotting hand would look prettier indeed and yet he felt neither disgust nor dislike, just indifference. He had seen so much worse in the age of death of his country. Whereas she was a lone person he had seen battlefields of things like her. Some of the returning from a battle looked worse than the dead, lumbering creatures riddled by disease and wounds. What he did find interesting was how she was openly speaking about what she thought. Not many were doing that, either talking at all with him or voicing their opinions. And her opinion was equally interesting. It seemed to shape up into an interesting day after all.

"Well, what else is left for it, a divine spirit fused with a human who is intent on keeping it down and abuse it whenever I feel like it. Can there be a more interesting thing? As for the pain, who would not if their whole existence was a single intent and they could not freely follow it since they have become less than a puppet that is controlled, maybe even less than a single thought." Muramasa toned out, his voice sounding as if it was somewhere between curious and politely nice. Still, he wondered if the old woman would or even cold understand what he meant. A spirit caught in a fusion held down by an indomitable or crooked will and the times it could run free limited to next to nothing since there was no occasion he would ever give in to the temptation to let it roam in his head. At least for now. "Neither nor crone, I am but a humble human who lost all that he believed in and was rewarded by the gods for it. A swordsmith intent on giving the means to kill every and any thing to anyone who so wants them, if they want to or not sometimes too. As they say, some people need to be pushed to their own... let´s say strength. But yes, nearly all spirits here either are lords themself, naive enough to believe they amount to anything anymore after having died once already or so called heroes who due to their death alone have failed in that very status. I can not speak for their feelings but they tend to be overdramatic always and stupid enough to believe anyone cares. So what are you crone? Hero, villain or would you agree that all such titles lost their meaning in death and obliteration?"

Muramasa tilted his head and smiled fadingly, untangling his fingers and grabbing the pack of cigarettes once more as if he did not even remember it had been there for a moment, just to play around with it again. Then his red eyes focused back on the old woman, lazily looking at her as if he was looking through her. Not in arrogance, but rather because as to all spirits he had mostly only indifference to offer them if he was not forced to work together with them. Having yet to meet a single interesting individual with which he would not feel like wasting his and their time by being nice or interested to a heightened degree.

Boy, huh? Well, he could not really fault the woman who was sitting in front of him. It would always be difficult to think much about age of a servant beyond their appearance. And while his was quite ambiguous, hers was old enough to be at least his grandmother or even further up. His eyes cleared a bit as she laughed, his indifference diminishing from seeing another servant who could freely laugh at even such a small thing. One would think it should be normal, but all the royalty and nobles and priests who chaldea had called on had less open humor than a dead fish being eaten by a cat. Not that he agreed with her even one iota, but her views were at least interesting enough to not just nod and act agreement.

"Hoho? So you say that death defines a person, maybe. But how about heroes and idols, by dying they die as idols and become legends, mere stories told by people. Their lives and works all for naught since in death they become just normal beings again. The same in reverse is why I stopped praying or hoping for anything from the gods. In their non existant there was hope that maybe with the collected wishes of all people peace would be granted. But instead they listened to the plea of a smith wishing for destruction, bloodshed and death to perfect all that what a human should not wish upon others. And they listened. They showed themself. The granted the wish for death of humankind. Is there anything more serious or hilarious than this? And yet, they needed not worry knowing that even if they did it there was little consequence anyway.

A fool being played by the gods to see me act out the last few dozen years I had. As you said, death has meaning, but only in eradicating anything that one is and leaving only what others saw. Here I am, in legend a monster and now a so called heroic spirit. Wielding my own swords and sowing destruction by my own hand just for a few more... what? Months? Days? Moments?" Muramasa grinned and leaned back, opening the pack of cigarettes and taking one of them out, putting them down in the middle between him and the old woman. "So, what did you say? True essence is sealed? Laughable, humans always will elaborateextenddescribeexplainnuancingglorifyinggratifying and over all exaggerate if it is a person they can not easily forget like most other people. That is the only reason heroes and villains exist in memory. They are the most entertaining fools not only for the gods, but also for humans. If anything I would have rather fallen into an abyss myself and enjoyed it than being made to fall without noticing." Whereas her face was showing signs of age from being old and experience what showed in Muramasa´s eyes was a tiredness instead. A century he had lived and had died, living this long as if in spite of the gods who had granted him this wish. And not only one soul was tired, it was as if his eyes showed the tiredness of two beings, many beings, all called muramasa who had all lost their faith in the end by their faith coming true. Living knowing and carrying the burden of knowledge, although he was only a simple man. But those were the easiest to fall after all. Heroes and people born to be great all expected this kind of thing, but how could a normal person?

But the tiredness vanished after just the moment he had needed to make a point it seemed, who knew, maybe it had all been an act from the soft red eyes that were now looking at the old woman again with mild amusement. "A cooperation, hmm. You have to know I am also a very commercial person." He grinned, his smile that of a loanshark or that of someone who sold weapons to people who were fighting against the very same blades they were now buying. "Although I have to say I am very interested in crafting indeed and my curiosity after finding out that magic was not only a tale has been growing. I was searching for such a thing, but the magi of this age seem very tightlipped and less powerful than even the lowest exorcist or parlor magician of my age. As such... We wILl look ForWARd to IT." Speaking with both voices as one, he answered, showing his true color for once. Two beings in one and yet one being that was two. Tilting his head to the side, a dangerous smile creeping on his face. For him contracts were worth more than lives, had always been and he would always keep them. And he would also always strife to advance his technique and knowledge, anything that could be used to create the perfect weapon for the perfect warrior. Maybe it was time to let himself be filled more with this mysterious energy he had always felt, that power that was always magnified by the spirit inside of him. Energy he could use. As for the spirit inside of him it could not wait to be let out more, to see more, to feel more, it knew no pain or could feel any, it´s only emotion was bloodlust and a lack thereof.

Although it was not quite true. Since it was fully fused and they were one person it was less than a spirit, less than a ghost, less than even a thought. There was only Muramasa and the being Muramasa had always operated as one person in unison even if there should be none between a divine being and a normal human. "With that out of the way, crone, I mostly one sidedly dumped my story on you. So let me hear yours too, I expect a gruesome and interesting tale from your demeanor as well as a story that ends in death, as they always do."

Ah, how true it was what she said and yet wrong, none he had met so far could even fathom what he was saying. But then again, who of them were given a divine spirit to dwell in them, which they were chaining down? None, thus he knew all too well that he would never come to an agreement with any of them, or an understanding even less concerning this. It was not that he wallowed in it or despaired over it, rueing what had happened to him, it was just that he knew that it is something one must have experienced. Although he doubted anyone could survive what happened to him, or keep their existence as it was before.

As for a savory soul, he doubted he had made a very good snack. He had lived and worked for near a century being persecuted and yet still hammering out new weapons and crafts. Having been despised by the ruling class and yet sought for by the same people. Betrayed and tossed aside, but one way or another they had always paid their dues if they ever wanted to have anything from him again. As for their puppetry, he had not given them anything, had never given in to the spirit or done anything grand or legendary himself, fooling and crossing the gods plans. Dying after a good life in the midst of his family, his wives hands on his and the rest of his family and apprentices watch over him as he faded with a smirk on his face. Having abandoned the afterlife long enough in his opinion. And after that they would have most likely tried to bury him, but would have been made to burn him twice before placing his ashes in different urns and putting them far apart. He had been called a demon and worse after all, as such it would only be customary to do so.

Instead of answering to her try of coming to a point or moral, he waved his hand for her to move on. Not an aggressive or dismissive wave, but only to signal that they had both said what they had thought they could say about it and there was nothing left on his side to add. His eyes just momentarily showing the usual indifference to people before focusing back to her and hearing her speak about existing and dying some more. "I agree as far as that we are meant to be signposts of humanity, showing where things happened and what happened, rays of hope or fear, meant to be braved, succeeded and ultimately forgotten like everyone else. There is no one who will forevermore be remembered in history. As for the most entertaining, I feel honored to be counted toward them, but in the end, we are just not forgotten like everyone else right away. Even gods fade and die or do not even attain names in their existance, although that might be just my home country."

Nodding at her as she began to tell her story, he leaned back, listening with half an ear, expecting most of what was going on from her behavior and wondered if she thought him enough of a fool to think that she had thought of anyone as a true family. Not even if she had been different back then, he would have bought how she called them a family. Most likely a foil to keep up appearances, or to follow what she had called her goal. Finding out about humans and nature. Rather legendary was her tale, since he doubted that tid bit too. If anything he wondered if she had followed a fools dream in the beginning just as many had. Immortality, a concept so otherworldly and boring he hoped it not to be the driving force behind her ambitions. Immortality was not a concept that was an intelligent choice once one understood where it lead. Eternal suffering of the consequences one had done, after all, he knew with a hundred still how he had stoked the fire once badly or messed up a sword as a child. Living eternally with that would drive one crazy beyond insane.

He barely noticed her cutting off her limb, he had seen too many decapitations, too many burnt bodies, too many horrors on the field of battle that were always all around his country back when he had lived to care too much for it. Summoning a sword in the middle of the air, he swiped away the spray of blood before it could reach his clothes and swiped it fast to the side to clean it of blood. Placing the ominous blade in the middle of the table. A piece of his spirit infused in it just like any other blade it radiated divine bloodlust, a presence that was nearly palpable and drawing those in who could not handle it well enough. Strengthening and maddening those who wielded them to a status that they were beyond what they should be capable and would be drained in a matter of minutes after drawing one of his blades in exchange for the power they wielded. A fitting weapon, giving someone a chance in any fight, but also damning them to die by their very own blade. A fitting curse for any swordsman.



As for her death, he would not fault her, would not delve into a discussion about her most likely kinds of failures, love, mercy, pity and so on, but it did not matter. None of it did, such was being human, such fragile existences that they died the moment something went wrong. But he would say this: "It does not matter in the end, you made a mistake and it killed you as it should have. If I made any mistake I would have died too, could have died any day ten times over. From the moment I sat down at the forge, stoking the flames, working with sharp blades and being chased by lords and ladies, selling to anyone, even those who could have killed me on the spot. But it never happened. So, no, I do not think you pathetic, but rather as a human being, with all of our faults and enjoyment of life as long as it lasts." There was no arrogance in his tone, just stating a fact and a lesson, looking at the woman who was looking his elder by a century like a teacher at his student. He had buried enough apprentices in his time or scraped their incinerated bodies from the floor to know that no luck in the world could save someone from a mistake.

"It was a rather... good tale, although your death was less bloody and messy than I had expected it was a good death. Yes, let us come to the terms what the details of this little arrangements will be, I am looking forward to it greatly since I see it affecting not only us, but many many more. After all, I doubt anyone would even think about the possibilities opening up for either of us due to this. I have a feeling both of us will greatly benefit from whatever we can come up with. I doubt so far I have met any person but you, who had the least bit of naivety driven out of them. Flaunting their abilities and skills, not understanding anything." He grinned as he said so and knew already that one way or another he would get to his goal, either this way or another.