Majora was said to invoke madness in the wielder's opponents. Upon the sword's moon mad gaze the victims would intonate a symphony of screams and shrieks. What made up Majora's face was a dark muddy steel. Forged in the darkness and thereon accompanied by the falsetto cry of its wielder, Majora witnessed the dry earth adopt a plaintive red. Its disdain for the ones who wielded it grew as the moon's harsh stare grew ever closer. It is unknown how Majora arrived in its current state. Who was Majora many of those who knew of its presence would ask. Those who answered would often say the product of human insanity, the wilting of human morality.
                A 10 year old boy Majora called 9 wielded it. In the boy's right hand fell the wretched blade and his sunken eyes caved in black stared onward. Clutching his weapon he pursued the answers Majora sought.
                The boy possessed no family and no affiliations other than Majora. Lacking a past he treaded on with a looming desire for death. Dark brown eyes peered through a ghost white face. His feet were wrapped in black, knee-high boots and a heavy white coat shrouded the rest of his tiny body.
                In the present moment he lied abroad society. Winter fell upon his face.
"Don't ya think ya should be going faster?"
                Majora spoke up. Coarse as his voice was the boy felt no sense of fear. Majora's present form was a thick katana, its skin carved. A series of indiscernible figures made up these etchings.