Children Of Infinity (IC)

[Zarkenis Ultima]

"Hah! Well, if you say so, I suppose I'll have to take your word for it." The bloodrobe said in response to Ellyn's comments about Aris deserving the victory in that fight, still friendly though his behavior took on a boisterous tone. "To be honest, saying that you would have lost without your healing magic is like saying that he wouldn't have stood a chance without his own magic power. It's true, but that doesn't mean that the outcome is any less fair." He stated, nodding at the recruit with a sagely expression which soon faded back to a friendly smile. "But I'll say no more about it. If anything, I will say that I commend your modesty. More people could use a bit of that nowadays, though you didn't it from me." He said, giving her a meaningful look and a nod.

The trainee continued listening to Ellyn carefully as she introduced herself properly, and a spark of realization spread across his face as she mentioned the name of his father, no doubt visible as he made no effort to hide it, though he dared not interrupt and instead continued listening. As the smaller girl summoned the weapon, the light emitted by the blade immediately dimmed as a result of the Academy's regulations on the use of energy weapons outside of designated areas. At the present moment, it was just an illusion of the actual weapon, but the bloodrobe's gaze drifted to it nonetheless, analyzing it carefully. Indeed, what the recruit spoke was true. The energy blade projected by the weapon's hilt generated very little momentum by itself, he could tell even though it was powered down as he watched her twirl the sword around. The hilt harmonized properly with the blade projected as well, and he could almost guess what the energy crystal inside looked like just by glancing at the blade it projected, though that was neither here nor there.

Hearing the recruit's question, the trainee also turned his gaze back to her, nodding. "Ah, yes, indeed. Sadly, I would have to say that I don't think he is particularly well-known to those outside the craft. But I have seen his work before, and I have to say I admire his creations." He explained, substracting a moment from his speech to discreetly wink at Aris before continuing. "I happened to see some of them while traveling with my family, some time before I arrived at the Academy. We're a family of smiths and knights, you see. Somewhere down the line, one of our ancestors decided that we'd better start making our own stuff. 'Using a weapon made by another man is like using their underwear!' he would say, or so goes the family legend, anyway." He chuckled a moment. "So, that's how I heard of your father. My eldest brother was looking at some designs by veteran smiths. Expanding his horizons, and all that." The trainee explained, before having an idea.

"Speaking of which, I can see that you've inherited some of your father's genius, so, if you would like, you can drop by the smithing workshop sometime." He suggested, and then appeared to begin looking around for something, or someone rather, but alas, he didn't seem to find it. "Well, I guess you don't know where that is, but your guides will probably tell you at some point or another, wherever they are. If you decide to come, just ask for Taro Horlan. That would be me. Make sure to say Taro, though, otherwise they'll probably send you to my brother. He manages the workshop, but he's... a bit less friendly." He warned. "Anyway, I'm sure you can put the workshop to good use. Your Dawnbreaker is certainly a good piece. Who knows, you might craft something even better with some time and effort. Not many of the people who come here can say they've made their own weapons." He complimented her and then simply waited, wondering if she'd take the offer well. It was a bit hasty, he supposed, but talent had to be nurtured.

[Charmera]

Vyna nodded. "Your sister cares about you... which is good. Family is very important." That last part was as much for Vyna as it was for Mehran. Considering recent events involving her own family, it would be key to remember. I wonder if I should tell someone... one of the aspirants maybe She shook her head, shaking off the thoughts. This wasn't about her.

"Well, if there is anything else I can do the make it up to you, do let me know." She said, with a warm smile now. She put a hand on his arm comfortingly, but then awkwardly took it away as she questioned it's appropriateness and she didn't want to get too much blood on him.. "You fought well Mehran. You were a worthy opponent indeed." She said sincerely.

For a man who had a knack for staying cool, Mehran could not help but shiver when Vyna laid her hand on his arm. It was not the blood that gave him the jitters; he hardly faltered when he was bleeding out on the arena floor with a sword in his gut. Rather, the warm touch of her hand felt foreign in a different way, as he looked away unnerved. Other than his mother and sisters, no girl had ever laid touched him before. On hindsight, he came across as a rather innocent boy, a stark contrast to his age and maturity.

"Ah," he answered, trying to keep his cool as she released him with a similar, awkward expression, "you too."

Out of respect for the conversations of others and in order not to upset the atmosphere, Aressa had stepped back and remained silent upon bringing Vynaria to the infirmary, simply replying to the girl's gratitude with a nod and a slight smile before watching her go off towards Mehran and apologize to the boy. If anything, she was glad that her apology was well received and the two recruits quickly turned away from the grim topic of the accident and potential mental scars towards more upbeat prospects like the chance for a rematch or the importance of the family. It spoke well of their mental fortitude, for one, and it made her confident that soon this would be little more than a curious anecdote. Not many could boast of having the failsafe malfunction during their duel, after all, however dubious that honor might be.

Eventually, noticing an appropiate opening, the scarlet-haired aspirant walked towards the two recruits, placing a hand on Vyna's shoulder. "Well, I'm happy to see that you two are on good terms despite the accident." She said to them, evidently pleased with how they had handled it. Sure, the elder Ayendor had certainly displayed much distress before, but she had been able to control it well despite everything. "Now, I have to go back to make sure the others don't wander off, so I will leave you in Arcander's care, Mehran. Vynaria, you can stay here with him, or you can head back with me. Either is fine, we'll all probably reunite after the Silver Games conclude anyway." She said, before nodding at the two recruits and Arcander. Aressa then turned around and walked towards the door, ready to head back to the stadium.

"Acknowledged, senior," Mehran replied, rubbing his arm where Vyna's hand was as a faint blush glowed on his face. He was unusually flustered for a level-headed scholar, as he tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling on his skin. Turning back to Vyna, he said, "you should go. Your sister should still be in the arena. I'm sure she needs you more right now."

"Oh, Jyn can handle herself. Though I should probably head there to make sure she doesn't pummel whomever she'd paired with into the earth... She may seem cuddly, but she has claws, and she doesn't hold back in a fight." She shook her head. "That girl doesn't know her own strength sometimes..." She commented, unaware of the hypocrisy of saying that after what happened to Mehran. She walked over to Arresa, looking to the blood on her hands and then back to her.

"Forgot to wash my hands..." She muttered. "Do you know if theres a sink anywhere nearby? Or where the restroom you were talking about is?" She asked, then she hushed her voice "Also... thanks for taking me here." I'm not sure I would have been brave enough to come here on my own.

She gritted her teeth as she resisted both the fear and the kinetic blast, it was becoming hard to fight both the mental battle and the physical one, but Jynna had enough mental durability to keep herself from being effected too harshly. However, because she was strained from the attacks, her counterattack lacked some luster. Merely throwing rocks at her opponent. Damn. I need to end this... fast.

In her hands, she began to gather rock from the arena, chanting she began to form a large hammer of rock, so she was no longer disarmed. Also, quite sneakily, she secretly put a bit of rock on her axe on the other side of the Arena so she could manipulate it later...

Thankfully Vyna taught me that trick... I don't think I could have come up with it under this mental assault. Now at least I have a chance.

Jynna was forming some sort of rock hammer, negating her previous disarmament. He had to keep her from rearming, and he had to act fast. Lunching a few kinectic blasts as distraction, weak ones of course in order not to drain his energy, he dashed over to the wall, as far away as Jynna as possible, as she was staying in place to build upon her stone axe.

Putting his back to the wall of the arena, he paused and stopped his kinetic fists, and began preparing a truly massive energy blast. In addition, he made it scolding hot, raising its temperature, and prepared to blast it.

Right, its now or never. She thought to herself. Either she was going to have to pull this off, or she was going to loose. She wasn't very good at tricky maneuvers like this, but she couldn't really think of anything else that was going to help her at this point. Brute force has not worked, hopefully cunning will... though it isn't really my strong suit. She thought to herself, the hammer finishing itself as she absorbed the kinetic blasts, not even fazing her. She seemed to be able to think somewhat clearly for the first time during the match. Or is this another trick? Does he want me to abandon my familiar tactics to this risky gambit...? Is he feeding my thoughts that would lead to a plan? Is he so far in my head that even though I think this is my plan it's really his idea to bait me into some trap which he'll use to- She got moving, over thinking was not going to help her now. She barreled down upon him, roaring as she charged.

However, her strength was not in the strike she was to deliver to his side with the hammer, which was weak and malformed anyway and would break apart upon contact with anything its purpose was to distract and confuse, perhaps daze. After the swing, she let go of that hammer, and drew upon the rock that she had planted around her axe. Reaching out for that, the Axe flew to her, now the distance between the two of them was not so far. She grabbed the weapon and swung at him one last time.

She hoped it would work, though, she did recognize this was merely a game, a mock duel, not life and death. If she lost, she wouldn't blame him or be soured by the conclusion, even if she did find his mental magic frustrating, convoluted and confusing. She'd likely think little of it. She might not even consider the possibility that he has been in her mind for longer than she might think, as she assumes the best from people. Thoughts akin to these went through her head as time seemed to slow when the axe moved towards it's target, uncertain whether it would connect with her opponent...

[The Starlight]

"Hah! Well, if you say so, I suppose I'll have to take your word for it." The bloodrobe said in response to Ellyn's comments about Aris deserving the victory in that fight, still friendly though his behavior took on a boisterous tone. "To be honest, saying that you would have lost without your healing magic is like saying that he wouldn't have stood a chance without his own magic power. It's true, but that doesn't mean that the outcome is any less fair." He stated, nodding at the recruit with a sagely expression which soon faded back to a friendly smile. "But I'll say no more about it. If anything, I will say that I commend your modesty. More people could use a bit of that nowadays, though you didn't it from me." He said, giving her a meaningful look and a nod.

The trainee continued listening to Ellyn carefully as she introduced herself properly, and a spark of realization spread across his face as she mentioned the name of his father, no doubt visible as he made no effort to hide it, though he dared not interrupt and instead continued listening. As the smaller girl summoned the weapon, the light emitted by the blade immediately dimmed as a result of the Academy's regulations on the use of energy weapons outside of designated areas. At the present moment, it was just an illusion of the actual weapon, but the bloodrobe's gaze drifted to it nonetheless, analyzing it carefully. Indeed, what the recruit spoke was true. The energy blade projected by the weapon's hilt generated very little momentum by itself, he could tell even though it was powered down as he watched her twirl the sword around. The hilt harmonized properly with the blade projected as well, and he could almost guess what the energy crystal inside looked like just by glancing at the blade it projected, though that was neither here nor there.

Hearing the recruit's question, the trainee also turned his gaze back to her, nodding. "Ah, yes, indeed. Sadly, I would have to say that I don't think he is particularly well-known to those outside the craft. But I have seen his work before, and I have to say I admire his creations." He explained, substracting a moment from his speech to discreetly wink at Aris before continuing. "I happened to see some of them while traveling with my family, some time before I arrived at the Academy. We're a family of smiths and knights, you see. Somewhere down the line, one of our ancestors decided that we'd better start making our own stuff. 'Using a weapon made by another man is like using their underwear!' he would say, or so goes the family legend, anyway." He chuckled a moment. "So, that's how I heard of your father. My eldest brother was looking at some designs by veteran smiths. Expanding his horizons, and all that." The trainee explained, before having an idea.

"Speaking of which, I can see that you've inherited some of your father's genius, so, if you would like, you can drop by the smithing workshop sometime." He suggested, and then appeared to begin looking around for something, or someone rather, but alas, he didn't seem to find it. "Well, I guess you don't know where that is, but your guides will probably tell you at some point or another, wherever they are. If you decide to come, just ask for Taro Horlan. That would be me. Make sure to say Taro, though, otherwise they'll probably send you to my brother. He manages the workshop, but he's... a bit less friendly." He warned. "Anyway, I'm sure you can put the workshop to good use. Your Dawnbreaker is certainly a good piece. Who knows, you might craft something even better with some time and effort. Not many of the people who come here can say they've made their own weapons." He complimented her and then simply waited, wondering if she'd take the offer well. It was a bit hasty, he supposed, but talent had to be nurtured.

Ellyn nodded as he spoke of the state of modesty today, and he was right. Where was loyalty, honor and glory, in these days? Were the ideals of ages long past forgotten, whisked away with a whisper? But honor, loyalty and glory to existed here, in the Order of the Phantom Blade, ever eternal, everlasting, despite all who sought to tear down the legends of times past.

She listened intently as Taro spoke of his family, a bit surprised, but intrigued, that word of her father had spread so far. She would have to send him a message, of his suddenly found fame. Her mother would love that, thought Ellyn, smiling and chuckling softly at the words of Taro's ancestors. Dismissing Dawnbreaker from her hand, she responded, "I'll ask Aressa or Arcander where the smithing workshop is as soon as I can, it would be good to forge blades and armor once again." She shrugged, "I suppose I might, or perhaps I could make some modifications to my sword and spear. It was nice to meet you, Taro Horlan. I shall come to the workshop when I have the opportunity." said Ellyn.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Standing by the infirmary's door, Aressa watched as Vyna finished talking to Mehran and walked over to her, asking about the restroom and then in a much quieter voice thanking her for bringing her along. Smiling faintly, the scarlet-haired aspirant placed a hand upon the recruit's head affectively before replying to her in a similarly hushed voice. "You don't have to thank me. It's my duty after all." She stated. And it was true, it was her duty to help the recruits assigned to her find their way around the Academy, and to make sure that they were on good terms with each other. Of course, the latter task appeared to be significantly more difficult, as some members of the group didn't seem to be getting along very well, but she was sure that could be rectified.

"As for the sink..." She said afterwards in her normal voice, speaking out loud as she felt no need to hush her voice to reply to Vynaria's question. She placed her hand on the girl's shoulder instead and turned as if to guide her, leading her to a door on the side of the room, before motioning for her to go inside.

"Take all the time you need and then we'll head back to the stadium." She said to the noblewoman. "I figure at least some of the others will have finished their duels by now."

---

Taro was visibly surprised upon hearing the names Ellyn mentioned, the names of the aspirants assigned to guide them. Regardless, he was pleased with the girl's positive answer, and so he smiled. "So that guy is one of your guides, eh? Well, he'll definitely know the way to the smithing workshop, then." He said, patting the girl on the shoulder. "Anyway, it was nice to meet you as well, Ellyn Tarembor. I'll certainly be waiting for you, so don't forget to drop by." He stated.

At that moment, not too far from where they stood, a shout resounded, a woman's voice echoing through the air.

"Taroooo!" She shouted, cupping her hands in front of her mouth to amplify the sound as she walked towards him.

Noticing her, Taro turned back to Ellyn. "Well, looks like I'm needed elsewhere. I'll see you around then." He said, waving at her as he turned around and walked away, joining the student that was looking for him and heading out of the stadium through one of the doors, their red robes trailing behind them.

[Estva]

Right, its now or never. She thought to herself. Either she was going to have to pull this off, or she was going to loose. She wasn't very good at tricky maneuvers like this, but she couldn't really think of anything else that was going to help her at this point. Brute force has not worked, hopefully cunning will... though it isn't really my strong suit. She thought to herself, the hammer finishing itself as she absorbed the kinetic blasts, not even fazing her. She seemed to be able to think somewhat clearly for the first time during the match. Or is this another trick? Does he want me to abandon my familiar tactics to this risky gambit...? Is he feeding my thoughts that would lead to a plan? Is he so far in my head that even though I think this is my plan it's really his idea to bait me into some trap which he'll use to- She got moving, over thinking was not going to help her now. She barreled down upon him, roaring as she charged.

However, her strength was not in the strike she was to deliver to his side with the hammer, which was weak and malformed anyway and would break apart upon contact with anything its purpose was to distract and confuse, perhaps daze. After the swing, she let go of that hammer, and drew upon the rock that she had planted around her axe. Reaching out for that, the Axe flew to her, now the distance between the two of them was not so far. She grabbed the weapon and swung at him one last time.

She hoped it would work, though, she did recognize this was merely a game, a mock duel, not life and death. If she lost, she wouldn't blame him or be soured by the conclusion, even if she did find his mental magic frustrating, convoluted and confusing. She'd likely think little of it. She might not even consider the possibility that he has been in her mind for longer than she might think, as she assumes the best from people. Thoughts akin to these went through her head as time seemed to slow when the axe moved towards it's target, uncertain whether it would connect with her opponent...

Koren began panicking as Jynna moved towards him faster and faster. She was going to be upon him at any moment now, and any charging was at the risk of letting her weapon reach its intended target. Any smash by her might be survivable, certainly, but what followed it would not. The charge was not as full as he wanted it to be, but then he realized, he had increased the temperature too much.

The energy he was holding would be lethal.

In his carelessness on just ramping up as much power as he could, he let the temperature of the blast skyrocket far too much. A juvenile mistake, but the only way he could fix it would be to dissipate the charge. He had to decide, and quickly, whether or not he wanted to run the risk of seriously injuring Jynna. He didn't know what kind of safeguards the arena had, but he imagined they were designed for weapons, not magic, and that carrying too far as he did would bypass them.

So, instead of fire, he decided to dissipate the charge. He did not want to hurt Jynna, and knowing what was to come next, simply stood and accepted his fate.

[Escalan Corps-Star Island]

"Ha!" Kiri exclaimed at his assertion. "If they sing it, it's just as likely to be a curse as a praise." She shifted her weight between feet, holding her left arm back behind her a bit and placing her right in what appeared to be a blocking position, which was of course odd since she didn't have any sort of shield or buckler.

7. Kiri forced herself to stay calm as Eamonn began to circle her. Standing fixed, resisting the urge to turn her head and follow his movement, she could feel him moving behind her.

6. I've never fought a duel before. What am I thinking? How in Aradain's name do I expect to stand a chance?

5. No. I can't doubt myself, not now. I've come this far, and I'm fast enough to do this.

4. Eamonn had circled back around to the front now, and she stood tracking his gaze with her own. His eyes flickered a few times, hinting at his actions.

3. He'll be moving fast, probably erratically. I can't dodge to either side effectively. She tensed her left wrist, preparing to block his first stroke.

2. Kiri set her feet. Watching Eamonn more closely, she noticed he favoured his sword-hand side on movement. Got ya!

1. "En garde!" she called out.

0.

He dashed forwards veritably screaming, feet kicking off of the arena surface to deliver a powerful upward stroke. She saw it coming and dropped backwards, rolling to the side to avoid the downswing that followed. She could hear the hum of the blade as it passed her head. Rolling to her feet as he spun around, she engaged the blade on Ilýcralad and delivered a blow to his left thigh. But the range was off, and though it connected, the blade skittered off the energy fields at an odd angle. She barely managed to pull the sword back in time to counter his next attack.

This won't be pretty at all, she realised. Delivering three rapid overhands to his left side, she gained a little ground as the blades crackled together. She disengaged for a moment and looked at him, hoping to see how he fared.

Staggering back from the blows, Eamonn was visibly pissed at the blows, though hardly enough to take him down at all. Gripping his sword one handed, he appeared to be at a significant disadvantage on the onset. Still, he appeared to be biting the pain like a brute, a somewhat remarkable feat considering his outwardly feeble appearance. Charging again, he appeared to be more on his guard. Swapping his blade to his other hand at the last moment, he again tried to confuse her with side-stepping, though that covered little for his apparent shortcoming.

But one matter that was readily apparent was that he was holding back. He had yet to use his magic at all, and coupled with his weak spot, made him quite a weak fighter. Question was, why? Was he looking down on her, or was his saving his magic for another trick. Something was noticeable, however. His free hand involuntarily clutching as if he was holding an invisible second blade, he was not used to fighting with just one sword.

Kiri noted that Eamonn was taking her assault head-on, not bothering to deflect the force of the blades clashing together. How long can he keep that up?, she wondered. Given his frame, it's a wonder he can absorb those sorts of impacts and just keep coming at me. . . She brought Illýcralad up to block an impending stroke. As her opponent neared, he suddenly shifted his sword to his opposite hand. Reacting at the last possible moment, Kiri stepped backwards and spun her own sword across to counter the stroke. The impact jarred her wrist more than she would have liked, and she grimaced a little in response. She'd falter if she took too many more blows like that, she knew, so she tried a different strategy.

Disengaging and spinning around rapidly, she regained her footing and reassured the integrity of her guard. Gauging Eamonn's response was easier now that she had seen his fighting style and knew of his ability to shift hands, so she had a far more accurate idea of what she could attempt. As he made to follow her, she muttered a few words under her breath and two ghostly images of her blade appeared, sweeping down from the right and left at Eamonn's helmet. He moved to block one, and she struck quickly at his unprotected chest. The lunge caught him on his sternum, knocking him backwards and breaking his concentration. Pressing the advantage, Kiri struck again, knocking her foe to one knee. Another repetition of the incantation, and a third stroke appeared. This time he reacted to the lunge, leaving her free to take a downward slash at him. Catching his helmet with an audible ring, he was knocked squarely onto his back. Kiri levelled Illýcralad at his throat, hoping to end the duel then and there.

[Wolfenium]

Staggering back from the blows, Eamonn was visibly pissed at the blows, though hardly enough to take him down at all. Gripping his sword one handed, he appeared to be at a significant disadvantage on the onset. Still, he appeared to be biting the pain like a brute, a somewhat remarkable feat considering his outwardly feeble appearance. Charging again, he appeared to be more on his guard. Swapping his blade to his other hand at the last moment, he again tried to confuse her with side-stepping, though that covered little for his apparent shortcoming.

But one matter that was readily apparent was that he was holding back. He had yet to use his magic at all, and coupled with his weak spot, made him quite a weak fighter. Question was, why? Was he looking down on her, or was his saving his magic for another trick. Something was noticeable, however. His free hand involuntarily clutching as if he was holding an invisible second blade, he was not used to fighting with just one sword.

Kiri noted that Eamonn was taking her assault head-on, not bothering to deflect the force of the blades clashing together. How long can he keep that up?, she wondered. Given his frame, it's a wonder he can absorb those sorts of impacts and just keep coming at me. . . She brought Illýcralad up to block an impending stroke. As her opponent neared, he suddenly shifted his sword to his opposite hand. Reacting at the last possible moment, Kiri stepped backwards and spun her own sword across to counter the stroke. The impact jarred her wrist more than she would have liked, and she grimaced a little in response. She'd falter if she took too many more blows like that, she knew, so she tried a different strategy.

Disengaging and spinning around rapidly, she regained her footing and reassured the integrity of her guard. Gauging Eamonn's response was easier now that she had seen his fighting style and knew of his ability to shift hands, so she had a far more accurate idea of what she could attempt. As he made to follow her, she muttered a few words under her breath and two ghostly images of her blade appeared, sweeping down from the right and left at Eamonn's helmet. He moved to block one, and she struck quickly at his unprotected chest. The lunge caught him on his sternum, knocking him backwards and breaking his concentration. Pressing the advantage, Kiri struck again, knocking her foe to one knee. Another repetition of the incantation, and a third stroke appeared. This time he reacted to the lunge, leaving her free to take a downward slash at him. Catching his helmet with an audible ring, he was knocked squarely onto his back. Kiri levelled Illýcralad at his throat, hoping to end the duel then and there.

Throwing up as he felt the sting on his chest, Eamonn appeared on the ropes in the duel. With multiple sprites to keep an eye on, the frantic teen was getting battered back hard. His ears ringing, he failed to keep his guard up as the hit stumbled him back. With Illýcralad raised at him, all he could possibly do was make a futile block with his sword, an indefensible position he had little way of escaping from. Or was it?

Suddenly, a sickening, splotching sound rang over the arena as Kiri surged in with her blade. Stopping close to his throat, her sword appeared to have been forcibly stalled, its blade running through an obstacle. It did not take long for his opponent to realize what Illýcralad had sunk into. Raised on Eamonn's free arm, a small, circular shield projected over its length jammed the sword before it could make its mark. On closer inspection, the shield itself did not seem entirely solid, as part of its mass fused the blade to its body. It looked like an eerie metallic gel, illuminating a cyan light over its surface. Eamonn, for one, looked a lot in pain, gritting his teeth with bloodshot eyes as his nerves burned with the strain of his duel. But all that appeared to be trivial discomforts to him, evident from his dangerous act.

"You're not making me mad enough," he hissed, glaring frighteningly at the girl as he began shifting his arm, evidently trying to tug at her sword. Releasing his sword on his other arm, he made a quick trace into the ground, as a surge of aura formed right under his head. Tipping over his body, a sudden beam of cyan ran right up where his head were in a surge of pure matter. Smashing right into Kiri's torso in full force, it surged out like a uncoiling snake, sending her hitting the wall with a vicious crash of its weight.

The strike made, Eamonn slowly got to his feet as the cyan column began to disintegrate into wisps of light. Illýcralad still lodged in his shield, he casually let the shield diffuse, removing the blade with a restrained grimace twisting over his face. Tossing it in Kiri's direction, it landed harmlessly on the floor standing as the hilt beckoned her back. Taking a step back to pick up his own blade, he merely waited for the girl to get back in the game, looking a bit displeased with his own performance.

In all respects, Eamonn was in very bad shape. Having held back from using his magic, he was quite content at soaking in the blows until his acrimonious retaliation earlier. In fact, he seemed to be consciously holding himself back for an opportunity like that. However, he appeared to be waiting for something else to happen, and he was once again daring the girl to hit him again.

[Charmera]

Right, its now or never. She thought to herself. Either she was going to have to pull this off, or she was going to loose. She wasn't very good at tricky maneuvers like this, but she couldn't really think of anything else that was going to help her at this point. Brute force has not worked, hopefully cunning will... though it isn't really my strong suit. She thought to herself, the hammer finishing itself as she absorbed the kinetic blasts, not even fazing her. She seemed to be able to think somewhat clearly for the first time during the match. Or is this another trick? Does he want me to abandon my familiar tactics to this risky gambit...? Is he feeding my thoughts that would lead to a plan? Is he so far in my head that even though I think this is my plan it's really his idea to bait me into some trap which he'll use to- She got moving, over thinking was not going to help her now. She barreled down upon him, roaring as she charged.

However, her strength was not in the strike she was to deliver to his side with the hammer, which was weak and malformed anyway and would break apart upon contact with anything its purpose was to distract and confuse, perhaps daze. After the swing, she let go of that hammer, and drew upon the rock that she had planted around her axe. Reaching out for that, the Axe flew to her, now the distance between the two of them was not so far. She grabbed the weapon and swung at him one last time.

She hoped it would work, though, she did recognize this was merely a game, a mock duel, not life and death. If she lost, she wouldn't blame him or be soured by the conclusion, even if she did find his mental magic frustrating, convoluted and confusing. She'd likely think little of it. She might not even consider the possibility that he has been in her mind for longer than she might think, as she assumes the best from people. Thoughts akin to these went through her head as time seemed to slow when the axe moved towards it's target, uncertain whether it would connect with her opponent...

Koren began panicking as Jynna moved towards him faster and faster. She was going to be upon him at any moment now, and any charging was at the risk of letting her weapon reach its intended target. Any smash by her might be survivable, certainly, but what followed it would not. The charge was not as full as he wanted it to be, but then he realized, he had increased the temperature too much.

The energy he was holding would be lethal.

In his carelessness on just ramping up as much power as he could, he let the temperature of the blast skyrocket far too much. A juvenile mistake, but the only way he could fix it would be to dissipate the charge. He had to decide, and quickly, whether or not he wanted to run the risk of seriously injuring Jynna. He didn't know what kind of safeguards the arena had, but he imagined they were designed for weapons, not magic, and that carrying too far as he did would bypass them.

So, instead of fire, he decided to dissipate the charge. He did not want to hurt Jynna, and knowing what was to come next, simply stood and accepted his fate.

And so the axe carried through. Not even Jynna could stop the heavy blade now that it was hurtling towards Koren with considerable force behind it. The axe connected with it's target, hitting it with a mighty thud and clang. The axe strike would likely knock Koren quite a bit away as it hit.

As soon as the axe had hit Koren, Jynna's eyes had widened in concern. She was finally thinking clearly, and she moved towards him with a bit of speed.

"Koren? Are you okay?" She asked, voice filled with concern.

Standing by the infirmary's door, Aressa watched as Vyna finished talking to Mehran and walked over to her, asking about the restroom and then in a much quieter voice thanking her for bringing her along. Smiling faintly, the scarlet-haired aspirant placed a hand upon the recruit's head affectively before replying to her in a similarly hushed voice. "You don't have to thank me. It's my duty after all." She stated. And it was true, it was her duty to help the recruits assigned to her find their way around the Academy, and to make sure that they were on good terms with each other. Of course, the latter task appeared to be significantly more difficult, as some members of the group didn't seem to be getting along very well, but she was sure that could be rectified.

"As for the sink..." She said afterwards in her normal voice, speaking out loud as she felt no need to hush her voice to reply to Vynaria's question. She placed her hand on the girl's shoulder instead and turned as if to guide her, leading her to a door on the side of the room, before motioning for her to go inside.

"Take all the time you need and then we'll head back to the stadium." She said to the noblewoman. "I figure at least some of the others will have finished their duels by now."

"Indeed." She said, talking as she moved to the sink. She put on the water and used the bar of soap to wash her hands of the red sticky blood, both literally and metaphorically, as the wounds from whence the blood came had been healed. "I can already guess how Ellyn and Aris' fight ended..."

Vyna felt much better now that she was relieved of the burden of guilt. But now she was alone with the aspirant she needed to talk to her.

"Miss Alistair, can I ask you a favour?" She asked. The aspirants couldn't be part of whatever scheme there was to kill the Ayendor heirs, but she still had to be careful about how she asked this.

[Estva]

And so the axe carried through. Not even Jynna could stop the heavy blade now that it was hurtling towards Koren with considerable force behind it. The axe connected with it's target, hitting it with a mighty thud and clang. The axe strike would likely knock Koren quite a bit away as it hit.

As soon as the axe had hit Koren, Jynna's eyes had widened in concern. She was finally thinking clearly, and she moved towards him with a bit of speed.

"Koren? Are you okay?" She asked, voice filled with concern.

Koren didn't feel the pain until he was staring up towards the ceiling. The strike and crash all happened so fast his body didn't have the time to respond.

Every breath was painful, but the damage control the arena offered prevented anything lethal from happening. Had the blow been unhindered Koren doubted he could breath at all. He heard Jynna calling towards him, to make sure he was okay.

"Y-y-yes, I'm fine. It....hurts to move, but, congratulations on your success. I'm beaten" He withdrew all attempts at influence, he was too exhausted form the fight and the wound. He attempted to stand, and with great difficulty, managed to get up and limp towards Jynna.

"You are very powerful, I respect tha-"

He grabbed his side as another wave of pain hit.

"I have not yet come across such a warrior as you."

[Charmera]

And so the axe carried through. Not even Jynna could stop the heavy blade now that it was hurtling towards Koren with considerable force behind it. The axe connected with it's target, hitting it with a mighty thud and clang. The axe strike would likely knock Koren quite a bit away as it hit.

As soon as the axe had hit Koren, Jynna's eyes had widened in concern. She was finally thinking clearly, and she moved towards him with a bit of speed.

"Koren? Are you okay?" She asked, voice filled with concern.

Koren didn't feel the pain until he was staring up towards the ceiling. The strike and crash all happened so fast his body didn't have the time to respond.

Every breath was painful, but the damage control the arena offered prevented anything lethal from happening. Had the blow been unhindered Koren doubted he could breath at all. He heard Jynna calling towards him, to make sure he was okay.

"Y-y-yes, I'm fine. It....hurts to move, but, congratulations on your success. I'm beaten" He withdrew all attempts at influence, he was too exhausted form the fight and the wound. He attempted to stand, and with great difficulty, managed to get up and limp towards Jynna.

"You are very powerful, I respect tha-"

He grabbed his side as another wave of pain hit.

"I have not yet come across such a warrior as you."

Jynna's eyes widened as her axe fell to the wayside as she rushed to help him, both their armour and weapons likely automatically deactivating now that the duel was over. She couldn't stand the idea of badly hurting someone she had not meant to and would not allow herself to stand idly by while someone else was in pain. She moved over to him, ready to support him if he tumbled over or help him if he needed it.

"Can you walk? Does it hurt?" She asked, her voice filed with worry. "If you need me to, I can carry you."

[Estva]

Koren didn't feel the pain until he was staring up towards the ceiling. The strike and crash all happened so fast his body didn't have the time to respond.

Every breath was painful, but the damage control the arena offered prevented anything lethal from happening. Had the blow been unhindered Koren doubted he could breath at all. He heard Jynna calling towards him, to make sure he was okay.

"Y-y-yes, I'm fine. It....hurts to move, but, congratulations on your success. I'm beaten" He withdrew all attempts at influence, he was too exhausted form the fight and the wound. He attempted to stand, and with great difficulty, managed to get up and limp towards Jynna.

"You are very powerful, I respect tha-"

He grabbed his side as another wave of pain hit.

"I have not yet come across such a warrior as you."

Jynna's eyes widened as her axe fell to the wayside as she rushed to help him, both their armour and weapons likely automatically deactivating now that the duel was over. She couldn't stand the idea of badly hurting someone she had not meant to and would not allow herself to stand idly by while someone else was in pain. She moved over to him, ready to support him if he tumbled over or help him if he needed it.

"Can you walk? Does it hurt?" She asked, her voice filed with worry. "If you need me to, I can carry you."

"I don't need to be carried, but I wouldn't mind some support."

He walked over and put his arm over Jynna or support.

"Nice fight. I just need some support because it hurts to walk and breathe."

[Charmera]

Jynna's eyes widened as her axe fell to the wayside as she rushed to help him, both their armour and weapons likely automatically deactivating now that the duel was over. She couldn't stand the idea of badly hurting someone she had not meant to and would not allow herself to stand idly by while someone else was in pain. She moved over to him, ready to support him if he tumbled over or help him if he needed it.

"Can you walk? Does it hurt?" She asked, her voice filed with worry. "If you need me to, I can carry you."

"I don't need to be carried, but I wouldn't mind some support."

He walked over and put his arm over Jynna or support.

"Nice fight. I just need some support because it hurts to walk and breathe."

Jynna nodded, helping to support his weight with her own strength. Her face flashed with colour for an imperceptible second at being in physical contact with a boy whom she was not related to. It went away as her more mature side kicked in. "A nice fight indeed. You fought well. Honestly, it could have gone either way." She reassured, waiting for the order to leave or the official signal the match was over. "Know that my concern does not any way to diminish your prowess or is intended to insult you. I just saw you we're hurt..."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Aressa waited for Vynaria to finish washing her hands, idly curling one of her crimson red locks of hair with her finger as she leaned on the wall, watching the girl was Mehran's blood away. Hearing her comment, the aspirant chuckled ever so slightly. "Well, it's not like they're making too much of an effort to hide their emotions." She stated, recalling how they went ahead and kissed in public before the duel was even finished, exiting the arena hand in hand afterwards right in front of everyone who was watching. "Then again, I can't possibly claim that's wrong." She smiled to herself. Certainly, it wasn't wrong to be honest. She herself seldom made an effort to conceal her thoughts, though she did take care to express herself respectfully when appropiate.

Hearing the recruit's sudden request, Aressa stood upright and looked at her, nodding. "Yes, of course. I am here to help you, after all, so feel free to ask me for anything. What is it you need?" She asked of the young noblewoman that stood in front of her, wondering about this favor.

---

"I would like to congratulate Jynna Ayendor for winning this battle." The black-robed master stated firmly once the duel was over, the safety measures deactivating the armor and weapons of the combatants and disrupting any magic within the arena. However, instead of instructing them to greet each other before abandoning the arena, he spoke a single command. "Now, vacate the arena and wait for your guides."

Meanwhile, a bit of applause echoed through the air as the people watching showed their appreciation for the duel that they had witnessed, even though some of the older and more experienced students were able to tell that Koren had held back at the end and allowed himself to be struck.

[Charmera]

Aressa waited for Vynaria to finish washing her hands, idly curling one of her crimson red locks of hair with her finger as she leaned on the wall, watching the girl was Mehran's blood away. Hearing her comment, the aspirant chuckled ever so slightly. "Well, it's not like they're making too much of an effort to hide their emotions." She stated, recalling how they went ahead and kissed in public before the duel was even finished, exiting the arena hand in hand afterwards right in front of everyone who was watching. "Then again, I can't possibly claim that's wrong." She smiled to herself. Certainly, it wasn't wrong to be honest. She herself seldom made an effort to conceal her thoughts, though she did take care to express herself respectfully when appropiate.

Hearing the recruit's sudden request, Aressa stood upright and looked at her, nodding. "Yes, of course. I am here to help you, after all, so feel free to ask me for anything. What is it you need?" She asked of the young noblewoman that stood in front of her, wondering about this favor.

Vyna paused before speaking, unsure of the best way to put this. Too much information and she might panic and tell the academy head, and since she didn't know exactly who to trust, after all, just because their parents were dead didn't mean it was one of her siblings who planned this. "Could you..." She started. Looking around to make sure no one was listening. "Could you keep an eye on my sister?" She asked. "She's... by no means weak or unintelligent, but her naivete and caring nature can be dangerous especially considering... recent events."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

The duel continued for Arogisl. The worst possible match, of all things it had to be a warrior who preferred direct combat. Had there been some simple gimmick or reliance upon a particular skill he may have been able to exploit the inevitable chink it would create in their defenses, but there was only a blade that defied disarming, leaving little in the ways of combating the advantage. For a match of brawn he was rather ill suited yet in regards to countering the use of magic he felt no real concern; particularly as fire itself tended to be fairly easy to deflect when matched with stone. A dangerous assumption of his. Fire alone was one thing but even stone would melt with enough power, doubtful as it was that she would put enough energy into her spells to do so. Another dangerous assumption. He would have to check himself to prevent rash action stemming from such conjecture.

After being launched back by his last column his opponent seemed quite engaged in a long string of invocations, and recalling the power of the much shorter incantation used earlier gave some reason for worry. But so long as she was busy casting, her ability to act would be impaired, granting him but a few moments of respite to consider his options.

It seemed from an earlier reaction that she had caught on to his little trick to hide his incantations, a reaction he felt it difficult not to smirk at. As if she had any room to criticize hiding his abilities when she possessed a blade which effectively could not be disarmed, the battlefield weeped at the irony. Regardless, the ultimate end was that it mattered not if she was aware of his deception as there still would be only the final invocation of a spell which would allow for reactive action. In the end it seemed it was tactics and tools that acted as the most significant of modifiers to deciding the winner of battle, and only those in the stories of old or of living legend seemed to hold the capacity to win by naught but their own strength. And from this thought a rather devilish idea came to mind. Truth be told he would rather have not turned to such a method, but the circumstances seemed rather conductive for this particular means.

Placing his hands once more upon the floor, he uttered the silent words to which a curved wall erupted from the ground, hiding him from view. While it also impeded his visual perception of his opponent, he could still hear her utterances from the other side of his wall, whereas she would hear nothing of him. In the end he would greatly prefer a more direct course of action, but first he would need to level the playing field, at least enough to negate that blade of hers. For only the second time following his entry into battle, he began his invocation without making physical contact with a surface. He knew not how much time remained to him, or whether or not a skill unknown to him would be utilized, so he poured all focus but that which it took to be aware of the voice of his opponent into the most intricate of spells he could think to make use of. It was not just a single invocation, but many interwoven and layered into each other that would serve as the greatest means to defeat whatever it was that he could face.

Meanwhile, Elsis continued reciting her powerful incantation as she summoned her blade and charged towards Arogisl once again. This next attack was going to nearly completely drain her of energy, she knew that, but neither her opponent's puny sword nor his cowardly pillars of stone would stop her this time. One of the most advanced techniques she had learned so far, this was one of her strongest spells, combined with her own strength and the power of her blade. Strictly speaking, she didn't even need to be close to him to unleash her attack upon him, but she figured that it wouldn't hurt to take the opportunity to smash him without using her magic if said opportunity presented itself, and it just so happened that Arogisl was standing exposed in the middle of the arena. Charging towards him, she was ready to deal a decisive blow to him if he allowed it, though the experience she had attained while fighting him indicated that such a thing was unlikely.

And indeed, soon enough a large curved wall of stone emerged from the ground in between Elsis and her opponent, protecting him from the wrath of her attack. Truth be told, she hadn't quite expected this, instead assuming that he would merely summon another pillar to hide behind instead of a whole wall, but either way, this new development did nothing to make her change her strategy or to weaken her resolve. Not missing a beat, she continued running through the battlefield, which looked more like a ruined temple than a simple dueling arena by this point, and headed straight towards the wall, her speed unchanged. Just as it seemed lik she was about to crash into the wall and stop, though, she instead jumped towards it and, in a remarkable feat of physical prowess that was not extraordinary for a Redemit but certainly commendable for a simple recruit, the braveblood began running up the wall in stark defiance of gravity and everything that had to do with it, her lips still spewing forth words of ancient power even as she performed such a daring deed.

Finally, she reached the top of the wall, and once there, she boldly jumped off towards the other side, looking down to see where her opponent was. It didn't take her long to see Arogisl, running towards the wall of the arena and away from her, and at this sight, she smirked. As far as Elsis was concerned, the duel was already over, and without further ado, she concluded the incantation of her spell as she descended, gripping Salamander tightly.

"Spiral Blaze!" She shouted as she hurled the energy broadsword at Arogisl with all of her might. The sword spun wildly as it tore through the air once again, but this time, something else happened. The blade was engulfed in burning fire, soon becoming a fearsome vortex of powerful flames that ignited the air around it as it flew, inexorably homing in on its target, Arogisl. The blazing spiral of destruction would undoubtedly finish off what little energy remained in his armor's shield generators, and in his sword as well, if he tried to block it. Dodging was not an option either, as the spell caused the blade to propel itself forward even faster thanks to a jet of flames, causing it to be too swift to be dodged. In fact, Elsis only had a few moments to enjoy thinking of this, as soon enough, she saw the blade strike Arogisl. However, much to her surprise, the blade continued on as if it had struck nothing. At first horrified, thinking that she had put too much power into her attack and that the failsafe on the arena had failed somehow, she ran towards where she had seen her opponent, to see if he was alright. However, she soon stopped, noticing that there was simply nothing there. No blood, no body, no nothing except her spinning blade. Her frown returned to her face as she realized that the figure of Arogisl had been but an illusion.

She had no time to complain, though, as soon she felt something. Something was approaching very quickly from her left, moments away from striking her. She quickly turned around, summoning Salamander to her hand by uttering its name, but it was too late to block, too late to dodge. All she could do was retaliate by swinging her blade at Arogisl as his own blade impacted her armor. He had used the illusion to distract her while he flanked her, using one of his own stone pillars to propel himself at great speeds towards her, blade first, in order to maximize the potency of the impact and hopefully bring her down in a single strike. Thus, the momentum he carried was great, and the two warriors struck each other with such great force only for a moment before Arogisl's speed caused him to slam into her, tackling her to the ground.

And yet, that moment had been more than enough. Their armors and weapons deactivated, and all of the magic in the arena was swiftly nullified, as the duel officially concluded.

"I would like to congratulate Arogisl Ignobilis and Elsis Salasanger for their duel and its climatic draw." Came the voice from the blindfolded master.

"Draw?!" She thought, indignated, but any further disdainful thoughts were drowned out by the sudden wave of applause and cheering that both she and Aro received from the students that had been watching the confrontation with keen interest. The two of them had put up quite a show, it seemed, one that was rather enjoyed by those around them, and though she did so begrudgingly, Elsis decided to simply accept the master's veredict and come to terms with the fact that she was tied with Arogisl. Everyone else seemed to think that it had been a good fight, it seemed, so she figured that complaining wasn't going to do her any good, not to mention that a braveblood was not meant to refuse to acknowledge defeat when it came, and she supposed that such a thing applied here as well.

Pushing the student that had tackled her aside, she stood up, but instead of simply walking away, she stopped, turned around, and offered him her hand.

"Well." She said after he had taken it. "I suppose you can't really be that bad. You managed to keep up with me, after all!" She added, grinning to herself, her pride having apparently recovered from its recently sustained wound rather quickly.

With the battle over, the two students then bowed to each other, as customary, and then went back to their respective groups.

---

Aressa waited for the girl in front of her to answer her question and tell her what was wrong, wondering what was the reason that made Vynaria wait until they were alone to ask her for a favor. She observed the recruit, noticing that she looked around for any potential eavesdroppers as she began to speak, though there were obviously none, as the two were alone in the restroom. Hearing the noblewoman's request, though, the crimson-haired aspirant couldn't help feeling concerned. It was something unusual to have someone ask for something like that, considering that it was implicit in the mission of a guide to protect the students assigned to one, and so, she figured that there had to be some sort of reason for it.

"Well, I'll certainly look after her. It is part of my duties as her guide, after all, to protect her and the rest of you." She assured the girl, though she frowned very slightly afterwards. "Now, though, we should head back to the stadium. We can talk about these things later, if you wish." She said to the girl, before heading out, motioning for her to follow as she walked up to the doors of the infirmary, taking a moment to wave at Arcander before stepping through.

---

---

---

Flying through the Antagon System, on the black void that surrounded Cathedral Arcadia, was a chariot much like the ones in which the other students had arrived. This shuttle bore within those few students who, due to a trick of fate and the hostility of the circumstances, had been unable to board one of the regular flights to the Silver Hand Academy, instead having to resort to an atypical flight arranged for them.

Soon enough, the chariot penetrated Arcadia's atmosphere, entering the Cathedral and allowing the students within to bask in its splendor as the vessel swiftly sped through the skies of the Crimson Citadel, headed towards the Silver Hand Academy on the distance. It did not take very long for the spacecraft to reach it, landing on a large, semi-open circular platform. The landing platform was mostly empty, unlike it had been some time earlier, when the bulk of the students had arrived at the Academy, their assigned guides calling out their names and leading them towards the welcoming ceremony which had concluded about an hour ago.

"Please step outside." The voice of the chariot's driver spoke as the door opened, allowing the students outside. "A member of the staff will meet you soon."

And indeed, not too long after the students had stepped outside as instructed, someone else arrived. A woman with long black hair and dark blue irises, a long, wide scar running vertically down her face through her right eye, which was perpetually shut. She wore a long robe dark as the void between the stars, adorned with silver embroidery and bearing the symbol of the Silver Hand Academy on her back. On one hand, she held a device of sorts which bore the same shape of the symbol on the woman's back, while the other one bore some robes similar in appearance to the one she wore, though these were different in that their color was silver, with embroidery of gold.

Now, despite the potentially fearsome visage of the woman, which was a direct result of the noticeable battle scar on her face, her expression betrayed no enmity. She walked up to the students, standing in front of them and observing them for a moment before speaking.

"Jonran, Alfenn and Rystan, correct? I understand why you couldn't be here earlier, but you all were still late to the welcoming ceremony, so I'm afraid this will be a little bit unorthodox." She explained, before walking up to each of them and pressing the device against their chest, imprinting the Silver Hand upon their right breast. Afterwards, she moved to their back and placed the silvery robes upon their shoulders.

"You're all now recruits of the Silver Hand Academy. Welcome to your new home." The black-robed master said, offering them a slight grin, before turning around. "Now, ordinarily we would now recite the Phantom Oath, but since these are extraordinary circumstances, we'll have to skip that. The sooner I get you children to your guides, the better." The woman said. With a steady pace, she walked to a door on the landing platform that led to an empty room. Long stairs descended into the depths of the tower, before revealing another door. Upon crossing it, the black-robed woman and the recruits found themselves on a long empty hallway. A transluscent ceiling and walls of similar properties allowed them to see the vermilion skies above, and if they looked to their sides, they would undoubtedly notice: There were other such hallways, many others, all around them, all of them empty now.

They continued walking, reaching another door, which led to a different hallway, a larger one, no longer transparent. They moved through the hallways until they reached a row of cylindrical semi-transparent tubes set on the walls, seemingly stretching out vertically through the whole buildings. They were reasonably spacious, able to fit as many as two dozen students, potentially more if there was need for such. For now though, the woman guided the recruits to one such tube, completely empty save for their group. A holographic panel next to the opening displayed several numbers, which she lightly touched to activate the lift. Soon it began moving upwards into the building, though they would have hardly noticed if not for the transparent walls that allowed them to see outside, since the sensation of movement was absent. Floor after floor flashed through their eyes before the lift stopped just as abruptly as it had begun moving. And as the recruits stepped out of the elevator, they would find themselves in another hallway, similar to the one they had been in moments earlier, yet somehow less formal. The walls, though of the same style and composition, were not silver and red like earlier. Rather, they were a clear blue color, and the works of art present elsewhere in the Academy were absent here.

After that, the woman continued leading them through the hallways, stopping at last before a door just like every other door nearby, but with the inscription "A-23" above it.

---

"...So that's all I wanted to say. Congratulations on your duels, everybody." Aressa told the recruits as they all sat calmly in the tranquility of their common room. She no longer bore the golden robes of the aspirants and the pristine white uniform of the students, instead clad in a simple white shirt and a pair of black pants, having taken a moment to change upon arriving to the dorm after leaving the stadium. Her crimson hair was tied up into a ponytail and she had visibly relaxed after the solemnity of the welcoming ceremony and the accident that occured during the duels.

"Now, you're all free to change into something else if you wish, but bear in mind that, starting tomorrow, you'll only be allowed to wear civilian clothes while in the student floors or during certain holidays." She said, before hearing a light knock on the door. And as she moved to open it, she found herself face to face with the black-robed woman with the scar over her eye.

"I see you've gotten along remarkably well with your charges, Alistar." The woman said, quite aware of and in fact amused by the sheer surprise displayed by Aressa's face at suddenly finding one of the instructors of the Academy in front of her door.

"A-ah... Miss Cyranis. What can I do for you?" The surprised aspirant asked.

"Oh, nothing much. Just show these late arrivals around, they'll be part of your group from now on." The instructor stated, motioning towards the three students that stood behind her, before patting Aressa on the shoulder. "Now then, I'll be leaving. Have a nice day." She smiled at the students, and departed.

Left behind with the three new arrivals, Aressa looked at Cyranis leave for a few moments before turning her attention to the three students in front of her. "Well, I suppose lunch will have to wait a bit. Come inside." She said, stepping aside to allow them entrance to the common room. "My name is Aressa Alistar, and I will be one of your guides. The other one, Arcander, is currently with some other students." The aspirant said. "You may want to introduce yourselves or leave your things here so that you won't have to carry them everywhere. You're also free to change into more comfortable clothes, we have permission to walk around the school in civilian wear for today." She explained. "We were just about to head to the top floor to get something to eat, in case any of you is hungry."

---

Arcander walked through the gardens of the top floor, looking all around for a familiar lilac-haired student who had left for the top floor on her own earlier, during the duels. The aspirant had seen to Mehran's swift recovery and had arranged for his armor to be repaired and checked for any imperfections in the system, and so, he currently found himself looking for Ritz, who he suspected was somewhere among the gardens, trees, statues and fountains of the pristine rooftop.

"Ritz!" He called now and then in hopes of having her hear his call as he looked for her.

Eventually, he happened to find himself at the edge of the building, looking down at a small balcony nearby, a story or two below, with a tree on it. There, resting peacefully, was the silver-robed young woman he had been searching for, a curious glow surrounding her body.

"Hello there." He called out to her. "That's a rather nice spot, isn't it? You're not the first one to take a nap there. Not the last, either, I'm sure." The white-haired aspirant said pleasantly, before glancing at the stairs that led up to the rooftop. "Are you hungry? The others are going to come here in a while to grab something to eat, but I decided to go on ahead to see if I could find you. You could have said something instead of simply going missing, you know." Arcander explained, his voice leaving it clear that he was not scolding her, merely stating a fact.

[Atlannia]

"...So that's all I wanted to say. Congratulations on your duels, everybody." Aressa told the recruits as they all sat calmly in the tranquility of their common room. She no longer bore the golden robes of the aspirants and the pristine white uniform of the students, instead clad in a simple white shirt and a pair of black pants, having taken a moment to change upon arriving to the dorm after leaving the stadium. Her crimson hair was tied up into a ponytail and she had visibly relaxed after the solemnity of the welcoming ceremony and the accident that occured during the duels.

"Now, you're all free to change into something else if you wish, but bear in mind that, starting tomorrow, you'll only be allowed to wear civilian clothes while in the student floors or during certain holidays." She said, before hearing a light knock on the door. And as she moved to open it, she found herself face to face with the black-robed woman with the scar over her eye.

"I see you've gotten along remarkably well with your charges, Alistar." The woman said, quite aware and in fact amused by the sheer surprise displayed by Aressa's face at suddenly finding one of the instructors of the Academy in front of her door.

"A-ah... Miss Cyranis. What can I do for you?" The surprised aspirant asked.

"Oh, nothing much. Just show these late arrivals around, they'll be part of your group from now on." The instructor stated, motioning towards the three students that stood behind her, before patting Aressa on the shoulder. "Now then, I'll be leaving. Have a nice day." She smiled at the students, and departed.

Left behind with the three new arrivals, Aressa looked at Cyranis leave for a few moments before turning her attention to the three students in front of her. "Well, I suppose lunch will have to wait a bit. Come inside." She said, stepping aside to allow them entrance to the common room. "My name is Aressa Alistar, and I will be one of your guides. The other one, Arcander, is currently with some other students." The aspirant said. "You may want to introduce yourselves or leave your things here so that you won't have to carry them everywhere. You're also free to change into more comfortable clothes, we have permission to walk around the school in civilian wear for today." She explained. "We were just about to head to the top floor to get something to eat, in case any of you is hungry."

Infernal chariots seethed a slender, dark haired youth inwardly. He stood straight and easily balanced but oddly tense and his features, though reasonably handsome seemed set in a slight frown. His dark eyes were deepset, hunkered down like sentries in a trench. Damn them all. This statement did not include the Academy chariot, which was a revelation of sophisticated, elegant travel as far as Alfenn was concerned. He wasn't even really speaking of chariots in general so perhaps his wording had been unfair. The target of his ire was rather a specific line of chariots that made up the majority of the Black cup's fleet, the Sanjour Nightwind. A cutting edge marvel in its heyday the nightwind had been praised for its speed and agility... but never its reliability. In addition all of the black cup's nightwinds were seasoned veterans of a thousand battles and more spare part than original machine at this point. The particular Nightwind responsible for ferrying Alfenn to the nearest stop on the Academy chariot's route had suddenly cut out in the middle of open space.

By the time the pilot had managed to get the machine moving again through equal parts furious swearing and devout prayer Alfenn had spent some twelve hours drifting in space, contemplating reality, playing music with his sonomancy and planning elaborate, fiery revenge on every nightwind in the black cup fleet. Perhaps in the entire universe if anyone outside of the black cups even used the blasted antiques any more. My first order of business as Grandmaster will be to destroy and replace them, I wonder what model the Academy use? Almost instantly Alfenn had the answer to his own question An expensive one... second order then, after acquiring vast sums of money Silence pulled Alfenn out of his thoughts as he realised the rather daunting... Cyranis, had left and the guide, Alistar seemed to be awaiting a response, a few of the new recruits milling about had broken off their conversations or inner thoughts to look expectantly towards the newcomers as well. Alfenn's expression, a hard mask throughout his musings, knitted ever so slightly.

"Cortagne," he said shortly "Alfenn Cortagne," and, after a moment's thought "Of the order of the black cup," he turned crisply towards the luggage area and was about to deposit his bag when his stomach growled imperiously. Alfenn stiffened and then cleared his throat "I suppose I could eat," he said, as casually as possible.

[Esternial]

Arcander walked through the gardens of the top floor, looking all around for a familiar lilac-haired student who had left for the top floor on her own earlier, during the duels. The aspirant had seen to Mehran's swift recovery and had arranged for his armor to be repaired and checked for any imperfections in the system, and so, he currently found himself looking for Ritz, who he suspected was somewhere among the gardens, trees, statues and fountains of the pristine rooftop.

"Ritz!" He called now and then in hopes of having her hear his call as he looked for her.

Eventually, he happened to find himself at the edge of the building, looking down at a small balcony nearby, a story or two below, with a tree on it. There, resting peacefully, was the silver-robed young woman he had been searching for, a curious glow surrounding her body.

"Hello there." He called out to her. "That's a rather nice spot, isn't it? You're not the first one to take a nap there. Not the last, either, I'm sure." The white-haired aspirant said pleasantly, before glancing at the stairs that led up to the rooftop. "Are you hungry? The others are going to come here in a while to grab something to eat, but I decided to go on ahead to see if I could find you. You could have said something instead of simply going missing, you know." Arcander explained, his voice leaving it clear that he was not scolding her, merely stating a fact.

With a sluggish reaction speed, Ritz looked up at Arcander, two vacant eyes staring at the aspirant as she woke from her trance. For the first few moments, the young girl seemed more like a sloth than she did a redemit. Some time after Arcander had asked her if she were hungry, she finally gave the aspirant a reply, just as the silence was beginning to grow awkward.

"Yes."

From anyone else's view it would seem as if Ritz had just taken a nap - which at some point during her meditation she actually did. She even had some drool running down her chin, which she wiped away as soon as she became aware of it, smiling gingerly at the aspirant as she stood up and - instead of taking the stairs - mounted the tree and scaled it to the top, from where she launched herself towards the top floor balcony railing. It was a rather reckless thing to do, but Ritz had her reasons. She hadn't fully come to her senses yet.

With some effort she climbed across the railing, botching that very simple task by falling off as she dismounted, landing on solid ground next to Arcander with a thud. In doing so, she produced a faint "ow" that sounded suspiciously endearing, like the whine of a puppy.

Once she got back onto her feet, Ritz looked up at the aspirant with the same dull look on her face as before, one hand softly rubbing the place on her shoulder that first hit the ground.

"I'm sorry."

For a moment Ritz contemplated adding more to that apology, but she drew a blank. This close the the girl, Arcander wouldn't have to make an active effort not to notice the glow exuding from her body, some of it even seeping into him. Ritz had spent quite some time meditating, so the walking reactor had energy aplenty.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

"Cortagne?" The crimson-haired aspirant muttered to herself as she stood off to the side and watched the first of the three new recruits step into her group's common room, introducing himself and dropping off his baggage. The name sounded vaguely familiar to her, as she had on occasion heard about nobility and important figures of Orders allied with the Phantom Blade. As he mentioned the Order he belonged to, the Black Cup, something clicked in Aressa's mind, making her remember. The name Cortagne was the family name of the dynasty that had been at the head of the Order of the Black Cup for a long time, or so she had heard.

"Well, this will be amusing." She thought to herself, thinking of the many nobles that had found their way to her group. Of course, in her capacity as an aspirant and as the guide of a group of recruits in the Silver Hand Academy, she cared very little about their lineage or origin, having no intention of treating anyone any different from the rest, as all of them were equals in her eyes, wearers of the silver robes of initiation, students who expected to and were in turn expected to learn to fight honorably as per the teachings of the Silver Hand Academy and its founders, instructors and directives. This stance, in fact, was shared by the Academy as a whole, as everyone had undoubtedly noticed by now, considering how nobles and non-bluebloods alike were packed together in the same chariots and shipped off to the Academy, placed together in the same groups under the same aspirants

However, his utterance of the name of his Order reminded Aressa of something else. "Black Cup, you say?" She asked as she checked a small box that was embedded on the wall, next to the door that led into the common room. After only a moment, she retrieved a small device, quite similar to the one Cyranis had pressed into the chests of the three new recruits to brand them as students of the Silver Hand Academy, though this one had a different shape. It bore not the Silver Hand, but instead the symbol representing the Order of the Black Cup.

"That explains why I got this thing." She said as she turned around and tossed it at Alfenn. "Catch." She told him. "It's a seal, you can press it onto your left breast if you would like to bear the symbol of your Order on your uniform, since you're not from the Order of the Phantom Blade like most of us." She explained to him. "Some foreign students choose to display their symbol. Others don't. That's your choice entirely." She stated.

---

Arcander observed, not without amusement, how the lilac-haired woman below took several moments to finally react to his words, looking up at him with such look that it appeared to him like she had been in a very deep slumber and was only just awakening, her drowsiness causing her to respond rather late, though evidently her rest had done very little to suppress her needs, judging by the positive answer she gave him. He merely continued observing her as, in a strange display of something that he didn't know whether to classify as athleticness of barbarianism, she scaled the tree and jumped from it to the rooftop's railing. He would have clapped at her, but just as he was going to do so, he witnessed how, in stark contrast to her previous deed, she displayed a very amusing ammount of sluggishness as she fell to the ground next to him shoulder-first.

After she had stood up and apologized, the white-haired aspirant simply patted her on the head. "Oh, you don't have to apologize to me, don't worry. But make sure not to get your robes dirty, or you'll get scolded." He advised her. "Now then, we can wait for the others or we can go ahead and get something to eat while we wait for them. I don't really mind either way, so I'll let you choose." He said, looking around the rooftop only to confirm that indeed, the others had not yet arrived. He supposed that something had kept them and that Aressa was already on her way with the others, though he did wonder what the delay was. Perhaps some late arrivals had suddenly integrated into their group?

Yeah right.

"By the way, that's a very interesting... Glow." He said, pausing for a moment to see if he could make the sentence sound a bit less droll and failing at it. "I assume its nature is magical?" He asked, looking down and noticing how it seemed to be flowing into him. A most curious thing indeed. He waved a hand in front of her, noticing how its proximity to the glowing aura caused him to feel a warmth enveloping his hand.

[Charmera]

"...So that's all I wanted to say. Congratulations on your duels, everybody." Aressa told the recruits as they all sat calmly in the tranquility of their common room. She no longer bore the golden robes of the aspirants and the pristine white uniform of the students, instead clad in a simple white shirt and a pair of black pants, having taken a moment to change upon arriving to the dorm after leaving the stadium. Her crimson hair was tied up into a ponytail and she had visibly relaxed after the solemnity of the welcoming ceremony and the accident that occured during the duels.

"Now, you're all free to change into something else if you wish, but bear in mind that, starting tomorrow, you'll only be allowed to wear civilian clothes while in the student floors or during certain holidays." She said, before hearing a light knock on the door. And as she moved to open it, she found herself face to face with the black-robed woman with the scar over her eye.

"I see you've gotten along remarkably well with your charges, Alistar." The woman said, quite aware of and in fact amused by the sheer surprise displayed by Aressa's face at suddenly finding one of the instructors of the Academy in front of her door.

"A-ah... Miss Cyranis. What can I do for you?" The surprised aspirant asked.

"Oh, nothing much. Just show these late arrivals around, they'll be part of your group from now on." The instructor stated, motioning towards the three students that stood behind her, before patting Aressa on the shoulder. "Now then, I'll be leaving. Have a nice day." She smiled at the students, and departed.

Left behind with the three new arrivals, Aressa looked at Cyranis leave for a few moments before turning her attention to the three students in front of her. "Well, I suppose lunch will have to wait a bit. Come inside." She said, stepping aside to allow them entrance to the common room. "My name is Aressa Alistar, and I will be one of your guides. The other one, Arcander, is currently with some other students." The aspirant said. "You may want to introduce yourselves or leave your things here so that you won't have to carry them everywhere. You're also free to change into more comfortable clothes, we have permission to walk around the school in civilian wear for today." She explained. "We were just about to head to the top floor to get something to eat, in case any of you is hungry."

"Cortagne?" The crimson-haired aspirant muttered to herself as she stood off to the side and watched the first of the three new recruits step into her group's common room, introducing himself and dropping off his baggage. The name sounded vaguely familiar to her, as she had on occasion heard about nobility and important figures of Orders allied with the Phantom Blade. As he mentioned the Order he belonged to, the Black Cup, something clicked in Aressa's mind, making her remember. The name Cortagne was the family name of the dynasty that had been at the head of the Order of the Black Cup for a long time, or so she had heard.

"Well, this will be amusing." She thought to herself, thinking of the many nobles that had found their way to her group. Of course, in her capacity as an aspirant and as the guide of a group of recruits in the Silver Hand Academy, she cared very little about their lineage or origin, having no intention of treating anyone any different from the rest, as all of them were equals in her eyes, wearers of the silver robes of initiation, students who expected to and were in turn expected to learn to fight honorably as per the teachings of the Silver Hand Academy and its founders, instructors and directives. This stance, in fact, was shared by the Academy as a whole, as everyone had undoubtedly noticed by now, considering how nobles and non-bluebloods alike were packed together in the same chariots and shipped off to the Academy, placed together in the same groups under the same aspirants

However, his utterance of the name of his Order reminded Aressa of something else. "Black Cup, you say?" She asked as she checked a small box that was embedded on the wall, next to the door that led into the common room. After only a moment, she retrieved a small device, quite similar to the one Cyranis had pressed into the chests of the three new recruits to brand them as students of the Silver Hand Academy, though this one had a different shape. It bore not the Silver Hand, but instead the symbol representing the Order of the Black Cup.

"That explains why I got this thing." She said as she turned around and tossed it at Alfenn. "Catch." She told him. "It's a seal, you can press it onto your left breast if you would like to bear the symbol of your Order on your uniform, since you're not from the Order of the Phantom Blade like most of us." She explained to him. "Some foreign students choose to display their symbol. Others don't. That's your choice entirely." She stated.

Jonran remained silent for the time being. Having been silent this entire time, even during the chariot ride. At the moment, he was not in the best of moods. Not only was he packed in an enclosed space with others he didn't know for a considerable amount of time, but there was the mounting paranoid tension that came with his situation. He had no idea who to trust. His sister had nearly been killed by an assassin, one which could be around any corner, which could be any one of these students. Not only that, but Jon had begun to put two and two together. The people who would most stand to gain from Jyn's death were the Ayendor siblings themselves, Alris, Vyna and Himself, though he would never conceive of hurting his sister. Which left the other two of his "dear" siblings as potential culprits.

A disturbing thought indeed... he noted. His eyes trailing over the other recruits. Until he saw his sister. His eyes widened as he saw his sibling, a slight smile on his previously grim face.

"Jyn? Is that you?" He said, smiling. A somewhat stupid question, but The girl seemed to respond, her eyes lighting up as she noticed her brother.

"Jon!" She rushed up to him, embracing her brother in a warm if overzealous bear hug. The much shorter brother grunting slightly as he was lifted off the ground and his body crushed. The infamous Jyn hug was no less tight than he remembered.

"Jyn... Sister... Please... Your hurting me..." He protested, Jyn suddenly realizing this and letting go of her brother.

"Oh, right. Sorry brother." She replied, blushing red as she realized she might have overdone it a bit.

"It's okay..." There was a slight pause as he regained his bearings. "So you're here too..."

"Yup." Jyn replied. "Vyn's here as well, though she's just getting changed at the moment." The sister having gone as soon as the newcomers arrived, eager to make sure there was no blood on her clothes when she met them.

[Atlannia]

"That explains why I got this thing." She said as she turned around and tossed it at Alfenn. "Catch." She told him. "It's a seal, you can press it onto your left breast if you would like to bear the symbol of your Order on your uniform, since you're not from the Order of the Phantom Blade like most of us." She explained to him. "Some foreign students choose to display their symbol. Others don't. That's your choice entirely." She stated.

Alfenn caught the thrown seal easily and then stepped back to avoid a blonde haired girl as she barrelled towards the one of the boy's that had he had shared the academy's chariot with. Out of the corner of one eye Alfenn watched the previously brooding boy crack a smile with bemusement and a twinge of irritation. If you could snap out of your foul mood so easily why didn't you do it before I had to share a long journey with you? he wondered silently. Then again he himself had been in a foul mood during the trip, the atmosphere had been... a little tense to say the least. Maybe if my sister was here to hug me when I arrived I'd cheer up to. Alfenn reasoned Or his sister he added and fought successfully to keep a wry smile from forming on his face. To distract himself he turned his attention back to the seal. It was, as he was beginning to suspect everything in this Academy was, well made and sleek, the Black Cup emblem imprinted into it was a perfect rendition, down to the jagged edges and fang-like handles of the cup itself. This time a smile did flicker across his face and he pressed the seal into his uniform, next to the Phantom Blade emblem that had been placed there earlier.

"Hardly a choice for some of us," he said softly, before tossing the seal back.

[Sil Arion]

Oh Lord. He looked high up at the clear ceiling, reveling in the ache of his body. What a wonderful fight. But he was burned out now. Standing was – difficult. The sensation was drifting over his body, a faintness spreading in his limbs as he stood beside her, his beloved, hand in hand. Only her warmth and smile kept him on two feet, the focus of his mind as he fought the urge to fall. He almost didn’t notice a girl stride up to them, barely hearing her words as his vision faded in and out. Star and stones, I pushed too hard. Her hand reached to his in a shake, and he took it.

This girl. A surge of life energy poured into him. More energy than he’d expended in their battle. More energy than he could gather in a month’s time. So much. And for a brief moment as their hands touched, he saw her. This girl. Her core shone like a star, little motes of light from around the arena flying to her, concentrating within her body and flowing up her arm into him, and he bled it into his gems, and they filled with more energy than he’d ever had at any times past. He felt so strong, awake and alive, the warmth coursing through him like rushing water. Then it was over.

And she was gone. How can I repay this gift? He didn’t even know her name. Hopefully Arcander could tell him. All he knew was her face and that mischievous but friendly smile - he needed to thank her for something so priceless.

Then Aressa and Arcander were next to them, the former’s arms around him and Ellyn. So caught in his thoughts and shock of that gift, he barely responded, nodding at Aress’s pleading comment. Focus. A rising tide of gasps in the audience, fingers pointing and exclaimed words directed down towards the dueling circles. He caught the stares and followed them, and saw another boy, skewered on an energy sword. Swiftly, medics appeared an Arcander and Aressa left them. As minutes passed by, he caught glimpses of other duels, but focusing his attention on the members of his new family. Filing away in his mind images and memories of the battles, and the tactics and skills they brought to bear on their opponents. Knowing one’s team members was critical to forming battle plans, after all. A sound behind him, and Aris turned.

Then a young man, shroud in bloodred approached him. An upperclassmen. Or rather, approached Ellyn, placing a hand on her shoulder. He felt an urge to interfere, but calmed himself quickly. Ellyn could most certainly take care of herself. And he would not judge. But what is he doing?

Oh. A rather nice fellow, despite his rough appearance. Big friendly giant, now?

Aris listened intently as the big man spoke. Ellyn is a smith! And her father a famed one at that! He had not expected that, but it made sense in retrospect – how well her weapons fit her form, and how lovely they looked – she was truly amazing. But she was too kind. He did not win, only just managed to skate by with his little trick at the end. Though. As her words washed over him, a tingling sensation settled in his heart. She had praised him.

He was growing to rather like this senior. The man, Taro, was earnest and honest, of good character. And honor, and believed in much the same as he did. Could he become as him here? Hopefully.

And perhaps he could accompany her. He was curious about smithing now, forging one’s own armor and weapons. Perhaps he could learn himself from her and Taro. He glanced at her as he followed the last bits of the conversation. Her smile is beautiful right now.

The man left, and they were alone at the stands above the arena. She turned to him, meeting his gaze. The din of yelling viewers and clashing foes was becoming too loud as several duels drew to their end, so he gestured to the nearest door with his free hand. She nodded slightly, and they walked up the stairs.

She had unsummoned her armor, as he did when they stepped through the door. A quick and quiet trip to their dorm had them both clean of sweat with a much-needed shower. Of course, he had been a gentlemen and waited for her once he finished dressing himself – an athletic shirt in the same white as his hair, embroidered in golden thread on the elbow-length sleeves and a zipper down from neck to sternum with a popped-up collar, which he left undone. A red shirt beneath, v-shaped neck, matching his eyes. Knee-length shorts in a warm tan color and leather sandals on his feet. His circlet sat on his brow, earrings and necklace not forgotten. A favored outfit of his. One he’d long worn around family. And now he wore it for someone new.

And he most certainly did not peek on her. His sisters had taught him well – and his fear of Headmistress Ion’s wrath kept him well in line! Though… Then a whispered shush, signaled the girls’ bathroom door opening, and he turned from his thoughts. And lost himself in her beauty. Her hair, so long and fine, beautiful as a woven sheaf of sunshine and starlight, glistening from its dampness and barely held back by a silvery headband, matching bracelets about her wrists. Perhaps I should ask later if I might braid it for her? But then he was lost again as he gazed at her. A slender yellow sundress embroidered in silvery threads, interwoven in flowery motifs, a clothen belt about her waist that matched her eyes. White leggings extended to midcalf, her dainty feet clad in high-topped sandals. She smiled at him, so lovely and bright and proud, and he took her hand in his own as they left the way they came, passing by a group of new students entering their hall, led by an instructor. Who were headed straight for their dorm room. More family? That would fantastic. Perhaps I can cook us all a meal later tonight! They hadn’t been given much time so far to socialize and get to know everyone. And he wanted to show her his own special talents, maybe teach her if she wanted. Yes. Tonight sounds like a good idea.

Words felt a little beyond him at the moment, so he walked in silence. Hopefully his smile said enough.

He felt – refreshed, as his hair dried in the air as they walked the halls upwards, together. The quiet was peaceful, though perhaps slightly awkward too. Should I say something? He wasn’t all too trusting of his tongue at the moment. Yes. He had confessed. And gladly done. But he worried. Is she uncomfortable? A glance at her told him otherwise. She had a light smile on her face, her gaze serene and golden, and gait so filled with grace. No. The welcome warmth of her hand in his agreed with that, her skin so smooth and soft despite her training, fine-boned but strong fingers entwined with his own.

After all. I am hers, now and forever more. He felt his lips pull up at that thought. It was rather wonderful.

They emerged on the roof promenade after some minutes, following the flow of students up and up. The doors opened and he had to cover his eyes briefly, the light so strong. The white marble stones glistening in the sunlight, veins of silver and gold sparkling within as they strode across them; wide and stretching far out to either side, filled with fountains, small gardens, arranged tables and chairs beside nicely trimmed bushes and flowerbeds in a rainbow of colours he gazed at in awe. Hundreds of first-year students gathered in groups, many now in civilian clothes, led by their seniors, parties of upperclassmen wandering amongst them all. He spotted Arcander walking tere, speaking with lilac-haired girl. Sounds of laughter and cheer filled the air, the clinking of silverware on plates and song of little birds drifting about as everyone partook in a midday meal as the duels drew to a close below. It was bright, and so very beautiful. He led her to the railing, overlooking the sea and a balcony not far below, from which a great tree sprung. And it was time to be bold.

“May we speak in privacy, kyria mou?” He spoke softly, trying not to betray his nervousness. He bit at his lip slightly, but then she nodded. And that smile of hers. Like the sun and stars, her hair a halo as the strands blew in the sea breeze. Then he took both her hands and launched off the ground in small flash of light. She flowed with him, in almost perfect synchronization as they spun and twirled, almost dancing in the aired as they arced up, then down again. They landed softly on the topmost bough of the great tree, nestled just out of sight, the din from the thousands above fading in the background.

Slivers of sunshine poked through the emerald leaves, illuminating her face in their warm glow. Her eyes fell on his, and then. Focus.
He gaze flickered down to her hands as he ran his finger over them, closing his eyes, and centered himself. Hearing the rustle of leaves, smelling the salty the sea breeze, the warmth of her hands and about her the silver bands. A deep breath. And then he sang. That truth in his heart.

You are my sun, my moon,
You’re my words, you’re my tune;
By the stars I seek your glory,
The red roses I see create a story;
The petals of divine grace,
I am caught in your embrace;
My earth, my sky, my sea,
You are everything to me;
You’re my light in the darkness,
You’re peace and happiness;
My hope, my forever love!

The last note he held softly, letting it trail off his tongue til its sound was lost to the wind and waves below. As it rang still, he reached a hand behind his back, and pulled forth a rose, red as blood and the sky above. Fresh, for he just picked it as they walked. Dethorned already too. He had sneaky hands, after all. He leaned forward, nearly til their faces touched, barely a handbreadth apart, fingers flowing in her hair til he had braided her a crown of golden locks beneath her headband, the rose resting atop it.

Then looked down and met her gaze. Shining. Filled with emotion. Ellyn. And he didn’t know what to do when the first tear fell.

[The Starlight]

-majestical snip-

She smiled shyly as she stepped out of the bathroom, after a refreshing shower. She had not realized how much sweat she had acquired in that glorious dance with Aris. As he stared, she did the same, looking at her sandals and wondering if she looked alright, before she looked into Aris' eyes and saw that she looked completely fine. She really needed to paint all of her ideas, for her mind was overflowing with ideas, and she simply had to put them to paper before they stole away, like the name of the wind.

She grasped his hand lightly, feeling and marveling as their hands fit perfectly together. She couldn't help but glance at his profile as they walked, her light, high-topped sandals hitting the ground as his own did. His white hair shimmered with the very stars, gleaming brightly and proudly. And though it was white, it was not the white that one associates with age and wisdom, but rather, a proud, beautiful youth, still in his glory days, blazing brightly for all the universe to see. But it was hers, hers alone, just like she was his, for all of space and time. Truly, they were children of infinity.

On the roof promenade, they both stepped lightly up, Ellyn taking joy in the merriness of all in attendance. This, was her home now, and its joy and glory were an imperishable, unquenchable flame, dancing around the wood, flickering, swaying, never ceasing, never dying. She followed Aris, as he led her to the railing, from which another scene worthy of painting presented itself. The blue and white sea, gentle and calm, the tides lapping slowly and quietly against the rocks and sands, in its own, beautiful dance.

She nodded as Aris spoke softly, listening to the roll of his tongue and his beautiful, elegant language, which she promised to learn.Perhaps he could teach her, she thought, before her thoughts were interrupted. No, not interrupted but simply put in the back seat, as something else took the forefront.

Into the sky they went, twirling, spinning, dancing, seeming to touch the sky. She was the sun, and he was the moon, and they belonged together. Flashes of yellow, white and silver were all that she could see, but it was glory, their majestic dance. So this is how it felt to fly. Underneath a clear sky, cutting and swirling through the winds, with a view of hundreds of miles, as the wind called to them, dancing its own dance, begging them, pleading them, to call its name, to summon the wind to themselves. The Redemit belonged in the sky, it had called to them, and they had answered, now living in floating planets.

But it was over all to quickly, as the new couple landed on the highest limb of the great tree. Her eyes blazed as Aris sang once more, of his love for her. And then, she cried, not out of sorrow, but of joys, the dams of her eyes loosing all of her love as droplets of joy strode down the contours of her face.

She looked down, into his smooth hands at the red rose which he held, the color of death's wine. Ellyn took in a small breath as he leaned closer, his fingers running through her hair like veins of silver in gold as he braided her a crown of hair, sliding in the rose smoothly. Their gazes met once more, and words of radiance, unbidden, rose to her tongue as she spoke in a whisper,

His figure is proud and his eyes bright,
They glow with an amber light,
His blade is sharp and his spells strong
And his fair mouth, in eternal song.
His smooth hands, dancing as he sings of love and beauty and light.
How can I express my emotion ere night comes?
Of the one who hums,
My love,
My Aris.

And her hand rose, to touch his soft cheek gently as she smiled once more, her eyes glistening with tears of love.

[Sil Arion]

-lovely snip-

Her voice. It was wondrous. How is she not a singer? Untrained as he knew her to be, and inexperienced, her voice was pure and perfect. Her emotions filling the words with clear purpose, and spoke truly from her heart. Not many singers as one might believe could manage such a feat so easily. And how wonderful they would sound in harmony! Perhaps he could persuade her to join the orchestra and choir of the Academy. And perhaps the dancing club as well! Her form was lovely to behold, as the battle proved so well. He would train with her, certainly. Every chance he could be with her.

Then she spoke his name, a bare whisper upon the wind reaching his ears. She said my name. A wellspring churned up in him and he bathed in her radiance beneath the leaves and sun as he gazed into her tearful eyes, reaching out a finger to wipe away a tear. Her smile was so bright, so beautiful.

The warmth of her hand on his cheek – so soft – lit a fire in his heart.

“Kiss me,” she commanded. Til he met her, he knew not truly what devotion was.

Aris’ arms, lithe and strong, encircled her hips as they touched, drawing her to his chest as he looked down into her eyes, shining like twin suns. Their lips but a hairsbreadth away.

“As you wish,” he replied, voice warm and low. And his last sight was of her beautiful, blushing face.

And then their lips met for the second time in as many hours, softly, slowly. And her lips were as her voice. Pure and perfect. Her free hair flowed over his face as they shifted on the tree boughs, the scent of vanilla and sweet fruit filling his nostrils as they kissed, chaste but with great passion, her hot breath in his mouth, tasting of lemon and honey. A thought flittered across his mind. Perhaps she had tea as she dressed. But then it was gone, for it mattered little. Not when she was with him now, no need to see beyond his beloved whom he held so close, relishing in the softness of her chest on his own, the sleek fabric of her sundress and the smooth feel of her fair skin as his hands roamed her back, and her own mussing his hair in this secret place beneath the crimson skies. Many minutes passed by as they lay on a bed of leaves upon the bough, immersed in their embrace as the sun filtered in from high above.

And it was amazing. Better than any song or book could tell. Of romance and this feeling. Of life and love.

He did not know how much time had passed as he gazed up through the leaves at the few clouds barely visible overhead, but eventually they just lay there, eyes closed, Ellyn resting peacefully in his arms as they basked in the peace, the talk and laughter above so quiet here. Only the wind saying its name to the leaves. Her head nestled into his neck, her hands and fingers drawing little designs on his chest, tracing the scars on his arms, and Aris focusing on that feeling – of her and her love for him. And his for her. “I love you, Ellyn.” It felt right to say that again. And good. Blessed are we by Aradain to have this gift. Thank you, O Lord.

He brushed a hand down her arm, humming a sweet song he knew from his youngest years. Short, and easy to learn. A song of secret gardens and twilight, and moments when lovely memories are made between sun and moon as the stars come alight. His other hand rubbed her back, little flashing of energy and heat pushing out from his fingers and palm with each moment, easing the aches that surely persisted, massaging her muscles as they lay there, caressing her as wind does a flower. She hummed along with him after a few rounds, and their harmony was beautiful. He had to teach her. To hear more of her heart-songs and see that same smile.
She was the sun to his moon. A match made in heaven. It was delightful – he was tickled pink.

Then he had a mischievous thought, and a sly grin crossed his peaceful face. His arms moved position, hands and fingers ready. Then he attacked. Sudden and swift, his fingers darted into her sides. She put up admirable resisting, and he saw her battle his efforts, trying to keep the lips held together as she failed to bat away his arms. He was too quick, and soon her laughter filled the air as he shifted targets to her midriff and neck as she rolled in his arms, a wide smile on both their faces. He joined her as she counterattacked and they were wrestling again as hours before. Soon they were both out of breath, chests rising and falling in rhythm as they lay again on the leaves, wide smiles on their faces as he looked over at her, then up again. Her fingers intertwined with his and he knew it then. How perfect this moment is. He had an idea.

She followed his motion as he sat up slowly, a slight questioning look on her beautiful face, but her smile still in place. Crossing his legs, he took her hands again in his own, the spoke. It was time to be wholly honest. And answer any questions she had for him.

“I… never fully introduced myself to you, agápi mou, Ellyn. My name is Aristos Nike Akaion. To me, names are a special thing. Sacred even. Gifts given to be cherished by the recipient.” He licked his lips, unsure what next to say. How to share with her, with Ellyn, who he was, and how he came to be. It wouldn’t be easy, dredging up those memories, but. He wanted to tell her. For he was hers now. And forevermore.

“My first name was Nike, meaning victory in the tongue of my homeworld, Akaea. It was a name given to me by Old Mother Gaea who looked after us orphans in the undercity, for how I always sought and achieved victory no matter my pursuits, never losing hope. Especially when I overcame the Dragon Blight, which had killed so many others. Next. Aristos, meaning best. While I was neither oldest or youngest of us, I became a – leader in our family. And that I proved rather – good – at fighting and surviving in the darkness of the lower levels, so big sister Hellen called me that – and since no one ever beat me. She gave me the name I go by; Aris.” His vision blurred slightly, and he felt something on his cheek. A wet warmth - a tear. It hurts. Remembering her. Big sister Hellen. How she suffered and died that lightless day with so many others of his family to those monsters in skins of men. Focus. A deep breath. “Finally, Akaion. Son of Kaios. Gifted to me by Headmistress Ion herself at Cathedral Delphi on Akaea. I became something a surrogate grandson to her after I came to live there, and chosen to be trained as a warrior. I remember the Blue Knight, Ante di lu Vian, also called me by that name when he spoke to me for the last time.” He felt a measure of pride at that, not quite as saddened by his siblings’ memories. The Blue Knight was a most worthy warrior, a True Knight descended of Aradain in wisdom and goodness – and a grandfather he never had before, part of his family. And he was proud to have learned under him.

But what else to say? How to begin? He was grasping at grass here, trying to open up to her. Then her felt again her hands on his face, tipping up his chin so he looked into her eyes. Shining. Filled with understanding and knowing. Relief flowed though him.

Perhaps he didn’t have to share everything at that moment. Because. Ellyn, you are amazing.

[The Starlight]

-epic snip-

She had commanded him, and he obeyed. His mouth woke a fire* within the embers of her heart, setting them ablaze ere they had cooled. They were perfect for each other, Ellyn thought as she kissed Aris, the sun and the moon, together once more. What else could this be both destiny? There were so many little thing that could have prevented them from ever meeting, but they had, and that was all that matter.

She ran her hands through his shimmering, white hair as their lips stayed together. She didn't want to leave his embrace. This was love, the blazing fire within one's very soul, to soar in the clouds, unstoppable, a never ending, never ceasing joy and passion and glory. This, was love. "And I you, Aris." she replied, smiling as her hands traced the silvery scars on his arms, painting upon his chest, imprinting her eternal love for him.

She hummed as Aris massaged her, and she grasped his hand, sending her sparkling green healing magic twinkling into him, healing his own hurts and aches, if he had any left.

And then, the attack. She was helpless, and glad of it, and they laughed together, of joy and happiness, as they gazed at each other, taking their hands again.

She listened intently as Aris shared the meaning of his name. She remembered the scars that she had traced upon his arms, and considered asking about them, but they were of a painful time, she was sure, and she was determined to let nothing cease the joy of this moment. But great men are forged in fire.**, and Aristos was mighty indeed.

They met eyes again, Ellyn lifting his chin, and then speaking, "Aristos Nike Akaion. A beautiful name, and it is mine, all mine. And mine is yours, only yours. It is time for me to share, I suppose. Ellyn Tarembor, as you know, is my name. El, first. Lyn, dawn. Ellyn, first dawn. Tarembor. It means, blazing light. My father, Teleren Tarembor, as you heard, is a forger. Not only of armor and weapons, but of tools and toys, for the time when blades are no longer needed in this universe, but I fear that will be a long time in coming. My mother, Windelas Tarembor, is a painter, who taught me how to paint herself. People come from miles, from worlds, to buy the things that my father makes with his hands and marvel and buy what my mother paints. But they always assess the character and heart of their buyers, in my father's case, to make sure that they will use his weapons for good, to defend the weak. For my mother, to see if they will truly appreciate it. So I suppose, the Tarembors are a people who are skilled with their hands.

*Cookie for anyone who gets that one!
** Or that one!

[The Unites State-Of-Minds]

A Tie! Wurms Bones, of all things a Tie! Not a scub as such he could claim his new time to be, never counting the instructors. Never a chance he to them before anyway, Not as bigger pot then he was never one to grant hope.

Arogisl held his tongue for fear of an unfiltered thought escaping his lips. The years of intensive drilling at the hands of the family had removed the peculiarities of his speech from general mention, yet all knew that the habits learned in youth would never truly fade, and ever still in times of duress he needed to watch himself for hasty returns to the guttural speech he first spoke. Thus, he again found himself relapsing into the stoic silence that seemingly defined his nature.

His irritation with the indecisive results of the battle aside, he thought it a good fight. As a matter of fact, he wanted little more at the moment but to don a freshly powered set of armor and jump back into that stadium and resume the fight to conclude the draw. To face that fire tossing warrior once again, this time forgoing the game of blades and turning the stone of the battleground into a writhing mass intent upon constricting whatever opposed him. He relished the thought for a moment, indulging in nursing the slight blow to his pride before forcing himself to acknowledge the folly of such thought. Even if he were allowed the casting time to accomplish such a feat, it would drain him in but minutes, less time then would be necessary to ensure victory. The surge of mental energy faded as he mused over the conclusion to the battle. She had responded rather well by the end, acknowledging him as at the least competent enough to face her. A prideful response, but he felt no animosity towards her for it as it appeared a well earned pride.

He needed something to distract himself, anything to remove his mind from its current course. Looking about, he realized that in his musings he had been led to the commons along with his fellow students. In fact....there seemed a few more heads then he recalled. Nevermind that, focus. Distracted by his observations, he could think of little to distract himself then simple recitation. Picking a seat by a window, he quietly muttered the same incantation as he had at the beginning of his duel, muffling his voice, but not muting it. Beginning with the simplest of incantations, he worked his way through the uncountable variations in command, careful not to exert any energy into the spells. Content with his recollections, he turned up the palm of his hand, and finally putting energy into the words, spoke a new incantation. He felt a slight tingle as a brilliant blue liquid seemed to condense within his palm, forming a one centimeter sphere as he continued his incantations before proceeding to dance and morph about his upturned hand.