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I held the spear in my hands. "Now, there's the business with YOU, my infernal friend. What to do?" I thought out loud.
"You could ditch your glaive and use it instead." Doriyan said.
"Yeah, I'll give up Gold Zephyr as soon as you give up Steel Grace." I said, pointing at his sword.
"You could dual-wield, like me." Shayra offered.
"Eh... no, that'd be too awkward for me." I held the spear in one hand and my glaive in the other, and they began pulsing simultaneously. "Are they... empathizing? Aha! I know! I'll have one weapon with the abilities of both!"

I held them together and recited the Growth incantation Doriyan and I were taught when we recieved our soul weapons. "This shard of my soul gives me strength. It defends me, protects my loved ones, and is a bastion for the weak. As I grow and change, so will it. Now, may a new form be born from the power drawn in its grasp." They began to pulse faster and shine light, then I threw them up in the air and a brilliant flash of light exploded. I caught the single weapon that fell, and examined it. My glaive's blade was dark now, and it had a hooked tip over its new, second blade formed by a partial split down the middle. Its shaft wasn't perfectly straight anymore, either, looking more like a slightly crooked branch. I held it up and the blade sparked and burned. "I shall call you... Ebon Zephyr!" I declared, spinning it and leaving a smoking trail. Doriyan, ever the mood-killer, clapped nonchalantly and said, "Behold, the flaming Lord of Hell, emphasis on flaming." I turned to him and said, "You know what? I earned this unholy power. Screw you and your non-infernal wrath." We laughed.