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    Tale of the ShadowHunter

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    Ryoshi



    Posts : 56
    Join date : 2015-09-07

    Tale of the ShadowHunter

    Post by Ryoshi on Tue Oct 13, 2015 3:40 pm

    Ryoshi Akuryo breathed a heavy sigh. The Demon Slayer-to-be was stood upon a huge cliff that towered far above the sea below. The air tasted of salt as Ryoshi breathed in again. He took a few steps forward until he was standing on the very edge and looked straight down, watching the waves break themselves against the immovable foot of the cliff. He barely flinched as a deep voice spoke behind him, his only reaction a slight shiver.
    "Ryoshi, it is time." spoke the voice, which belonged to Ryoshi's father figure and mentor, Azazel, the Ascended Demon. Ryoshi turned and looked at the Demon, taking in his appearance for the last time. Azazel was at least ten feet tall and was clad in gray robes, complete with a deep hood that shrouded his face in shadow. Sprouting from his back was a pair of immense, white feathered wings. The Demon had been teaching Ryoshi how to control his magical powers, as well as shaping him into the Holy Demon Slayer, for Azazel, as the Ascended Demon, Reborn of Heaven, had dominion over light and was connected to the divine. Today was the last day of this training. The moment has finally come for Ryoshi to test his skills to the max. It was time for mentor and apprentice to fight all-out. Ryoshi took another deep breath, then shed his cloak and tunic, leaving him bare-chested. This allowed him to feel the light shining bright and hot on his skin. Azazel nodded approvingly, but made no movement to similarly disrobe himself. Ryoshi was unsurprised; the Demon never appeared without his robe. The Demon's only response was to raise a hand and Cause a large scythe to appear in it. This scythe was made of pure white light and shone brightly. Ryoshi's face grew serious as he spoke three words and conjured up his own weapon. "Holy Demon's Sword!" In his opened right hand, a large longsword, made of light as well, appeared. The longsword had a slight reverse taper at the end of the blade, which was nearly four feet long and contained a fuller running nearly its full length, that quickly tapered back down into a razor-sharp point. The hilt, mimicking the texture and feel of old, worn leather, fit perfectly in Ryoshi's hand. The cross-guard was carefully shaped to resemble a pair of angel's wings. The pommel was molded to call into mind the previous demonic allegiance of the being after whom it was named; it resembled a pair of bat's wings, angled away from the cross-guard, that held the sun between them. It was a beautiful weapon, and Ryoshi was proud of its quick and flawless appearance. With that, Ryoshi lunged at the taller Demon at great speed, the ferocity of his determination showing through the fierce speed and grace of his movements and the glint in his eyes. His surrogate father was proud, even as he swung his immense, razor-sharp war-scythe to intercept his trainee. Showing a great presence of mind and incredible reflexes, Ryoshi rolled over in midair and blocked the stroke by holding his sword lengthwise across his body. The force behind the Demon's blow was enough to send his protégé flying sideways, however. Ryoshi spun once more in the air and landed on his feet, skidding backwards several meters while holding his sword straight in front of him in both hands. As soon as he was done skidding, Ryoshi threw himself at the Demon again, desperate to land even one hit. He put on an even greater turn of speed than earlier by pushing a burst of magic out of the soles of his feet the moment before they left the ground, causing an explosion of solid light to erupt from his boots and propel him forward at an immense speed. As he drew near to the Demon, Ryoshi thrust out with his sword, relinquishing his grip on the hilt with one hand and fully extending his body to grant himself a little extra length. The tactic worked, but the ancient being was slightly too fast. Instead of landing one solid, stabbing blow on the Demon, Ryoshi blazed past as Azazel sidestepped, the white blade carving a shallow cut out of his side. Ryoshi flipped and twisted in the air, landing once more and preparing for yet another lunge. However, his glancing blow had done its work, no matter how shallow. The anti-Demon properties of Ryoshi's magic, manifested in the form of a blade, was spreading throughout Azazel's body. Slowly, painfully, the Ascended One turned to face his faithful and beloved student, his scythe falling from rapidly numbing fingers to shatter into trillions of tiny points of light and vanish as it hit the ground.
    "Ryoshi... That was well done. You have passed your final test. Now it is time for you to gain your true power. When I have died and vanished, you must consume my essence. This will be the ball of black light hovering where my body once was. Once you have ingested it, you will be granted immense power, enough to rival, or perhaps overshadow, my own. You must do this if you want to overcome the curse."
    "What... what curse?" panted Ryoshi, who was distraught at having killed his father figure, but knew it had to be done and that what Azazel was telling him was the truth.
    "The curse that comes from having killed the one whose power you wield. The curse of killing a divine being. Now, my time has come. Fare thee well, Ryoshi, my son..." Azazel said, the last words coming as a gasp. The demon fell back, but as he fell he vanished, never to return again to the world of the living. All that was left of Ryoshi's mentor was a ball of dark light, as large as a small house. Tears running down his face at the sudden loss of the one he held most dear, Ryoshi stepped forward until he could reach out and touch the sphere of Azazel's essence.
    "Farewell... father." he whispered, calling the demon a name he had never used before, much like Azazel had called him 'son' for the first time as he died. Ryoshi then opened his mouth and breathed in deeply. The black orb was pulled into his mouth rapidly, and he could feel his power surging. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed black markings beginning to cover the skin of his arms.
    In a few moments, the sphere of essence was gone. Its only legacy was a series of swirling black marks that covered the entirety of Ryoshi's body like a tattoo. Aware of these markings and what they meant, he focused all of his being into one thought. Soon, the markings began to recede, spiraling inwards to a spot just above his heart as ink is pulled into a whirlpool. When this was done, the only thing left of the markings was a shape reminiscent of a sun, containing a pentagram to reveal its demonic alignment, over Ryoshi's heart. He closed his eyes and placed his right hand over this marking, allowing a single tear to escape his eye as he whispered "Thank you, Father."

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