The agonising sounds of dying people on the blood-drenched battlefield had finally come to an end. Thus, allowing the clouds to let go of their tears and bring them down onto the earth.
I, who had no business in the field of The Great War of Blood was greatly injured and not only that, I had caused my one and only mistress' fatal injury.
Her death was inevitable, yet she had no sign of anger on her face, no tears, but a smile.
"Good, now I can finally be of use to my long-lasting assistant. You have been ridiculed because of the curse you bear but now, I can give you a proper vessel", she struggled to speak as she placed her palm on my cheek.
"Don't say that! Use your remaining power to save yourself and not me!" I wept, fervently pleading, but she never paid attention.
She was bent on saving my life, the life of a lowly peasant who was never even considered human. A fifteen-year old boy who was still prone to making ridiculous mistakes.
"If I did that, I'd only be selfish. Warriors are made to die on the field, aren't they?"
"No! I still cannot accept it!"
She closed her eyes, shaking her head as she picked up the sword of legend, the moon sword simply called "Dzinu".
The sacred blade was rumoured to have immeasurable power whenever the moon graced the sky and even more power when it had reached its full stage.
Slowly, she placed her thumb in one of her wounds and drew the symbol of reincarnation and immortality onto the sword with her blood, then transferred the symbol onto my forehead.
"The moment you die", she coughed out the blood which began to clog her throat as she forced her final words, "you will become one with my sword."
"No...", my body began to turn numb. "I don't want that."
My lungs began to choke with the sharp stench of blood that emanated from the corpses scattered all over the battlefield.
Suddenly, lightning shone all over the land and revealed the terror in my eyes for a split second just before the great and powerful thunder cracked the clouds and shook the earth.
My mistress breathed her last at that very moment.
But It was already done, she had used half of her power to prepare a perfect vessel for my soul. I was never going to see her again while a person with immortality such as myself was going to live throughout centuries as a legendary blade.
"Mistress, how cruel. Why would you leave me to live on knowing the fact that I will never set eyes on you ever again?", I tried standing up, only to give in to the weakness in my legs.
Crying didn't bring her back, but I had come to accept my fate and held the sword close to me as I lay down beside my master, awaiting death's visit.
Throughout thousands of years, I had been used as a symbol of destruction. Feared by all as I harboured the power I possessed as a sword and distributed it to people whom I found worthy.
Battle after battle, my wielders enjoyed victory and I had formed great bonds with them, only to watch them die later on.
I never rusted, never broke, never stopped remembering the sights of my wielders' death. Slowly walking towards the one memory that scarred my soul.
Soon, the lust for wars died. I was left in the ground by the last wielder to serve as a memorial to the people of my developing village, reminding them of the great rulers they praised as heroes.
Thousands of years just kept passing by and I was soon forgotten. All that was left for me to do was watch as the world around me changed drastically. My village became known as one of the greatest city of technology; Cell.
Truly, I was of no use and every single day I thought to myself, "Mistress if you knew the world would evolve so fast, why did you make me immortal?".