Burn, Everything

Her legs felt so heavy as she dragged herself fowards, the soles of her boots dragging across the fractured ground. Her right arm throbbed painfully as she drew near to the great sword that had been thrust point first into the ground, a web of lines spinning out from its centre. She took another step and then gasped, her voice ragged as she clutched her arm to herself. She felt a hunger gnawing at her being, and knew it to be alien; a voice in her head, quiet and warped beyond her ability to understand it. It only served to make her head hurt when it spoke, as though it drew bloodied nails across the inside of her skull.

Her eyes were focused straight ahead of her, she could turn them neither to the left or right, but now, a familiar image stepped into her line of sight. She stood behind the great sword, a ring of steel almost as tall as she was resting on her shoulder. With a hand on one hip and her head tilted to the side, the girl's lips curled into a lopsided smile as she called.

"Pyrrha! Come, my sweet. I have a present for you!" The girl spread her arms wide suddenly, leaning forward over the great sword as she presented it to Pyrrha.

"For..for me?" Pyrrha said, her throat raw as she emitted a low, gravelly voice. Her right arm seemed to pulse as she spoke each word, and she finally began to understand the source of the great hunger she was feeling. Dragging her feet as she approached the sword, Pyrrha slowly noticed the single, twitching eye embedded into the centre of the blade. It looked about wildly, tirelessly seeking something she knew not of, veins of blood emanating from its dark pupil. Suddenly, its focus shifted and it was upon her, an unwavering stare that froze her in her leaden tracks.

Fear struck her cold. She didn't want this. She backed away, shaking her head even as she movement caused her great pain, murmuring "no no no".

"Pyrrha! Come here!" the girl shouted, and Pyrrha whimpered as she heard the familiar threat of violence in her voice. She hastened to obey - she had to - but the eye within the sword glared at her and she faltered. Its gaze was piercing, she felt it go right through her, staring deep into the heart of her being and lusting after a thing that was hers alone. She backed away.

"Pyrrha", the girl hissed, her voice cold, "I have no time for games".

Pyrrha could not disobey her guardian, not after she had proved time and again that she was the only trustworthy being that Pyrrha had ever known. Everything she said would happen, had; she had been the one to raise Pyrrha when her parents had died in a tragic fire. She had forgiven Pyrrha's mistrust when her brother had abandoned her. But...

"I'm scared, Tira", Pyrrha whispered, visibly shaking as the sword's eye pierced her to the core, "I'm so scared".

Tira's cruel visage immediately melted away, replaced with a soothing, comforting expression. "Come, Pyrrha, have I ever given you a gift that harmed you? Don't you like my gifts?"
"I - ah!" her arm burned, and without her intent, rose up and reached out towards the twisted hilt of the sword. At last, she knew the source of the hunger as it filled her being. Tira spoke quickly.
"Take it, my sweet!" she bid Pyrrha, "have not all my gifts been lovely? Haven't they let you spill the sweet blood of the humans? But this...with this, you can taste their very soul! Take it, Pyrrha!"

Pyrrha listened to her guardian, and at last, understood. Tira's gifts had always been good gifts. After she took them, Tira would always shower her with kind words. When she killed many with them, Tira would take her hands and they would dance among the corpses, the soles of their boots and their clothes and skin streaked with blood. Seeing Tira happy made her happy. Trying not to look back at the eye, Pyrrha stepped towards the sword and reached out for the hilt. She hesitated for a moment, drawing back slightly, but then she steeled herself, looking up and drawing comfort from Tira's light smile. She had always given her good gifts. She grasped the hilt of Soul Edge.

The world shattered. Pyrrha was blinded by an explosion of red light as she took the hilt of Soul Edge in hand. The claw that her right arm had become was shot through with veins pulsing with an evil life force, and pain set her body alight. She screamed in agony with a voice of power, her cry shaking the heavens and earth, ripping through the ground around her feet. Dimly, she heard a familiar, excited and triumphant cackle. More clearly did she hear a voice whisper within her skull.

'...weak...I am...weak...feed me...'
"What do you require?" Pyrrha asked quietly, her voice monotonous and without pause.
'...souls...who...are you...slave...'
"Slave?".
'...you are mine...now...and you will serve me...well...but you will serve...only me...'
"You are my only master".
'...no...the girl...she controls you...'
"No, she is my friend".
'...look back...see...you are her...tool...'
"You're lying", Pyrrha said, "she has always - "
'...look, fool! Do not...question me...look...'

Pyrrha bared her teeth in anger, but even in its weakened state, Soul Edge evoked an authority she couldn't defy. And so she opened the door to the past, looking back with the presence of Soul Edge guiding her eye.