The first time it had happened, it was a complete mistake. Out of frustration, he tore at wrist when the silver clip had came loose. As it flew from the leather bindings of his wristband, in a flourish of blue flames, a blade manifested itself. A handed bound in abrasive bands almost adhesive - a specialized tape. A skull took the place of the guard. Where instead of a flat piece that separated the blade from the hilt, a canid skull that exuded an eerie blue glow from the orbital socket sat. The blade itself was about his height but did not hold a traditional shape one would imagine of a sword. Then again, the only knowledge of swords he had were from jacked up dreams. Still, this was no rapier, executioner blade, or a short sword. At the end of the blade was an indent, perfectly inserted and round. What purpose it had posed was unknown to him. The entire weapon was oddly heavy for a weapon meant to be swung quickly for damage. It weighed almost twice the weight of the executioner's blade from the memory of a knight. He could almost imagine it in his hand, how it moved when he swung it, how it felt in his hand. This manifested weapon felt heavy but moved as if it were light. It meant to be a two handed weapon and yet he was able to wield it with just one.

Uru had tested the weapon briefly with swings and jabs, parrying the invisible enemy in front of him. If anyone were to stumble upon the demon in his personal training spot in the woods, they'd think he was crazy. Or insane. It moved so easily within his grip, it was almost exciting. As the invisible enemy would swing down with his weapon, he would raise it so the flat side of the blade would take the blow before deflecting and going for a slash. The movement was unpracticed. All of it was. He was a brawler, a demon who fought using his fists and claws instead of magic, let alone a weapon. He was no reaper. But there had to be a reason why he - a demon hellhound - was able to conjure such a weapon as a skull embedded blade.

Now, Uru was always a curious individual. If he did not know something, it was a goal to find out more about it and learn everything he can. This blade was his new project. Demons deployed magicks as a form of offense. His was utilizing hellfire that would chill and freeze. The blue-eyed demon wasn't as powerful and proficient as his sister, but he could still deal significant damage if he landed a clean hit. Conjuring the flames was as simple as a flick of the wrist. Just like that, the weapon roared to life. The azure flames crawled up the hilt to the skull, the flames erupting from the eyes and covered the length of the blade until it was lit ablaze. Uru looked at it in genuine fascination as this newly manifested weapon had taken on his magic to further improve it's abilities.

The demon grinned as he swung and swiped with the fire-covered blade. Imagine the destructive capabilities of such a thing! No shadow, no insanity inducing creature, hunter or horseman would want to take a blow from it. That was when the blade made contact with a nearby tree. In an instant the fire rushed toward the tip in an explosion of hellfire propelling him backwards.

The tinnitus rung loud in his head, sitting upright in a daze. The tree was splintered and a crater sat where it once stood, remnants of the blue hellfire slowly pittered out. The demon looked a little afraid at the explosion sight. Just as the blade contacted the tree, just as the fire swept toward the tip, there was a scream. A scream unmistakable female. A scream he should be familiar with, but the face and name was not coming to the surface. There was fear in that scream, desperation, and a sense of loneliness. Who's scream was it? Uru reached out toward the blade at where it had embedded itself. But as he reached for it, the sword dissipated slowly until the c-clip that sat at the butt of the hilt fell to the forest floor.

"Tyler..." the name fell from his mouth subconsciously. He paused as he looked at the silver trinket. A ghoul who looked like a boil, she - no, he was strong. He had saved him from something, something that induced insanity. The word 'collective' comes to mind. He held the silver clip in his hand as he tried to recall those memories and the emotions that were attached. Sadness, guilt... Shaking his head, he latched the clip back onto his wristband. He had a strong feeling that Tyler was no longer around. A feeling that he was human.

Since that day, he had not been able to summon the sword a second time. But it was something he should be prepared to use should the time it comes again. And that meant he needed to be practiced in its use just as he was with fighting with his fists. The demon fashioned a slight replica out of a fallen branch. Roughly the same length, close to the weight he recalled, and frosted it with his magic to increase its durability.

If one wanders the forest, one may be able to find a demon training with a stick.