Holy High: Pax Deorum (IC/OPEN)

[Mindhart]

She'd been regaining her memories since she woke up.

Regained words, thoughts, all those little things you tend to forget, like the reason you were chained. Or, the reason why.
Or your name, or what you are, or what they did to you.

Vix. Her child's name was Vix.

The manacles bit at her where she'd tried to break them. The dog- she kept wanting to wake him up. His name-it started with an 'L', she was sure.

The giant fox paces in a circle, before stopping and staring down at the space around her paws. It was glowing, and it seemed as though it... Sunk... When she put her weight on it. She experimented a little, slamming a paw down hard, and something... Happens. There's no cracks, no traces of breakage, but she heard something; a small crushing sound. She did so again, and the noise came back. tichicickickinck. She pauses , perking up as a thought crossed her mind.

This was old magic. And nobody had come to renew or strengthen it. She could break it, perhaps with Sheer force alone, now, but...

It was the floor she walked on, meant to support her. That was not the problem. She eased herself back into it once more, breaking a small peice away and nearly falling over at the sudden connection.

She wasn't sure when she'd first noticed, but now she was sure as a rush of energy forced itself through; magic. Not like the kind that had trapped her, it was more... Familiar.

She concentrates instinctually, feeling a sudden spark as the magic finds a new place to settle down.

It wasn't her magic, she realized.

It was her daughter's, maybe. Was she sending her magic? No, it didn't seem possible; they had only talked once. She felt a little less tired as she absorbed it, more awake, more alive.

Maybe she was alone, but she was regaining her strength.

[Luminesa]

Gilead Blues
Day 28
The Addison House
Gilead, Maine

“There ain’t a church in Gilead no more.
There ain’t a church in Gilead no more.
God ain’t here, He’s just moved down the road.
There ain’t a church in Gilead no more.”

A young man was sitting on the porch of what was almost a house, but more of a shack. In the smaller towns, as the people in Avery County knew, a house post-Dying was what one made it. But he was doing something universal, with a wooden plank rigged with twelve nails and guitar strings. He was making music.

“The old church went down in the storm.
The old church went down in the storm.
The church that stood before I was born.
The old church went down in the storm.”

Putting words, sounds, and rhythms to something as catastrophic as The Dying had been hard for everyone. Some people like the Samuelsons didn’t even try, but just lived their lives working. Others did their best, but the losses were too great. Some fared better than others, and helped those who didn’t. And some just had a rusted plank of wood for making music.

“My momma went down in the flood.
My momma went down in the flood.
Jesus said we were washed in the blood.
But my momma went down in the flood.”

Before the Dying, Wolf Addison had wanted to be a star. He had even been named for a famous blues musician. But now, he had the corn and potatoes his dad was trying to grow, and he had the shack behind him. His dreams were just a pastime. Who had time for music, his dad kept asking him.

The young man playing what remained of a guitar, however, felt that there was always time for music. Especially now.

“Daddy put the corn in the ground.
Daddy put the corn in the ground.
We just pray that the rain will come down.
Cause Daddy put the corn in the ground.”

Just last night, to his amazement, he was sure that someone had heard him. He thought he had seen a figure in the tall grass, someone shadowy and mysterious drifting past his father’s cornfields. He had almost wanted to take the oil lantern and to go look, but he knew it was only one of two oil lanterns his dad had. And he had to go get more soon, or an electric lantern when the harvest was good. They needed more of those. Regardless, he had only sat and watched, and had wondered if he had seen ghosts. Maybe the August heat would finally kill him.

And then he had seen stars. So many stars, as he had for many nights now. Never, before the Dying, had he been able to see many stars in the sky. But now he had watched them for at least fifteen minutes, and he was sure they had made the shape of a large fox chasing something. Looking for something she could not have, or would have soon.

“There ain’t a church in Gilead no more.
There ain’t a church in Gilead no more.
God ain’t here, He’s just moved down the road.
There ain’t a church in Gilead no more.”

He stopped strumming when he smelled something inside. Onions, that delicious, life-giving smell. The smoke from the fireplace would go through the “chimney”, and he knew that soon he would have supper. Whatever supper might have been that night, it gave some rhythm to the rhythmless days, when he had to sit on his porch and make it himself.

“WOLF!”

“Coming, Pa.”

Lifting his long legs off the rickety porch, the young man took his “guitar” and propped it against the door. It would be there after dinner, and he would play it until he fell asleep or his dad called him back into the house. He was not sure which was hotter, the outside air or the inside of this tiny shack.

Either way, he wanted to see that starry fox in the sky again.

[Finsternia]

Hyperion’s Class - Drunk Like the Sun
Day 28, Afternoon
Beach, Holy High Campus

Sublime’s “Summertime” bopped over the boombox as the sun began to loom down over the tops of the piney trees. The air smelled like falling sunlight and saltwater, and for someone who perhaps enjoyed that weather, it would almost feel like a vacation. But Hyperion knew there was no time for a vacation, even if he himself wanted one.

“Alright…it’s just two this time, huh?” He murmured to himself. He had changed into a blue Hawaiian shirt and shorts, hoping a fresher look would make for a better impression. Then again, one of the students coming to see him already liked him. The other at least tolerated him.

“Please let this just be a normal combat class…or Hephaestus is gonna kill me.”

A man and his vine snake coiling around the neck descended upon the white sand after a gracefully swimming through the air. Ragatirta and Ula Ijo had arrived for the promised self defense class. The former, finally having the time to prepare himself, changed from the sweater and long trouser he wore since yesterday. Instead, the sea prince wore for himself a quite baggy and oversized aqua green hoodie (the palace attendants bought it without him, they couldn't tell exactly what size their master was), and a pair of black gym shorts. Ragatirta himself was confused on his choices at first, but after a long contemplation, he decided to roll with it. It would be a defense class, he thought.

Suddenly, flashing memories of the last defense class brought to the sea prince's lips a frown. It was chaotic, and he almost fell to merely the presence of lightning. He thought to himself as an embarrassment deep inside, and he intended to make amends this afternoon. But, at the sight of Hyperion, Ragatirta simply walked slightly closer to his teacher and gave the titan a respectful bow and greetings, "Good afternoon, sir."

“Hey, look, you came more prepared for combat this time, good!” Hyperion grinned and waved to Ragatirta and nodded at his more appropriate attire. “You’re early. Waiting for the other student who signed-up after class. How are you feeling?”

"I want to do better than last time, sir," Ragatirta responded to Hyperion, "I don't want to faint like last time."

"Mind to not overexert yourself, Master. I believe in you," said the snake around the sea prince's neck. Ula Ijo had always been the caretaker, and it often evolved into worry.

"I know what I'm doing this time. Though I hope no lightning will be involved this time, Ula Ijo."

The Sun Titan nodded again. “Good, good. And uh, what is your snake’s name again?”

"Ula Ijo, sir Hyperion. I believe you've witnessed my companion in action last time." Ragatirta's mood was bright that day, and he soon waited for the other student that his teacher talked about.

"YOOOOOOO HYPE-BRO!" A loud shout came from all across the campus, as a boisterous student comes jogging along. The young God of Slaughter is waving his hand, his dark skin shining with sweat beneath the morning sun. As always, Vadha has made sure that his very own training continues, even when Gym Class isn't on the schedule. The God of Slaughter has many duties, and what kind of murderous warrior god is he if he could not maintain his prowess?

Much like Ragatirta, Vadha has opted for clothes that are both comfortable and functional when it comes to his training regimen. Dressed in a simple sleeveless skintight shirt, and a pair of sweatpants, the young godling is more worthy to be seen jogging through the suburbs of San Francisco rather than a respectable god, but then Hyperion himself wears Hawaii shirts in greater frequency than a 50 year old suburban white man.

Vadha wipes his face and arms as he comes close, and he grins at the Titan and his new classmate. "Sooooo... Heard that it's finally combat stuff day? Man I've been waiting for this! Last time I got action was with the Cerberus thing!"

The Southern Sea Prince turned to face the source of the shout, and beheld the approaching student.

"A jock. Ugh. Are gods not content with having an average body for once? Tell me who he is, Ula Ijo," Ragatirta spoke to his Greater Mimic through telepathy as he looked away from everyone else, not wanting to gossip about someone right in front of him.

"I failed to spy that student in my inspection, but I had heard from the whispers of many students. He was born and bred a deity for thousands of years. Extremely dangerous. Should we find ourselves opposing him in this class or anywhere else, defeat would be most likely."

Ragatirta's eyes widened in shock and responded, "What?! Since when are you in the hobby of scaring me out? That man... If he ever turns his way here, you're the one doing the talk!" Ula Ijo looked up to his master's worried face and apologized,
"I am truly sorry, master. I fail to consider your feelings once again. And yes, your wish is my command."

“This Vadha, god of…well, bloodthirst and fighting.” Hyperion paused as he thought about that introduction, and remembered the damage that Vadha had done to the gymnasium. Then again, he was overseeing them, so he took a breath and gave Ragatirta and his snake a huge grin. “You two are going to get along just fine. Here’s the deal, you’re not going to be fighting each other. As Coatrisquie had intended, you’re going to be fighting ME!” He pointed a thumb at himself, proud that he was at least sober enough to fight two younger gods.

"At the very least, we won't have to deal with that jock over there," Ragatirta spoke with relief, still in telepathy with his Greater Mimic, Ula Ijo, "We do have to deal with sir Hyperion, though. That means a harder opponent, and having to cooperate with this warrior god instead. I don't know if that's better or worse than the alternative."

Brushing his tail upon the sea prince's neck to calm him down, Ula Ijo responded in kind, "Trust in your power, master, and mine in communicating with our comrade at this time."

Not long after, the Southern Sea Prince turned towards Hyperion and asked him, "If I may ask, sir... Are there any rules to ensure fairness?"

“Well first of all, I’m not going to kill you,” Hyperion explains, “and nor do I expect for you to try and kill me. Don’t go away from the beach, use your environment, work together, not against each other. I don’t have a lot of rules in this case, honestly.” He shrugged. “Coatrisquie’s probably going to be stricter than I am.”

Vadha listened silently as Hyperion relayed their task today, which seems to be a joint training session with a new classmate that he hasn't met yet. The bottom line of the joint training is that there will be no killing any of the participants, though the victory clause is still nebulous. Perhaps they need to disarm Hyperion or inflict injuries that would have been lethal or disabling.

The God of Slaughter smirks as he slowly stretches his shoulders and arms, divine blood essence filling his veins. He turns towards Ragatirta for a moment to observe him and his stature. The hoodie hides a lot of his definition, but his stance and body language does not convey the essence of a warrior. A true combatant, whether it would be a warrior, an assassin, or even a caster of spells, would convey their mastery of the art of war in their every movement. He could smell it in the air. Fresh and uninitiated blood.

"So, hey." He starts rather awkwardly as he points at the Prince of the Sea. "What's your name? I haven't seen you around campus. New here then? You know how to fight?"

"Allow me," Ula Ijo whispers at Ragatirta's ear before adjusting his position on his master's neck to face Vadha as he called to the sea prince not long ago.

"I shall speak on my master's behalf", Ula Ijo starts with his usual formality, "Indeed, my master is a new student to Holy High. He bears the name of Ragatirta, He With the Body of Water and Crown Prince of the Southern Sea Kingdom. For five years he assisted his kingdom and republic in quelling the remaining wrath of gods and spirits throughout Nusantara.

As for myself, I am simply called Ula Ijo. I serve as my master's Right Hand. You may speak to me should you need anything regarding my master. I am happy to provide."

Meanwhile, the aforementioned crown prince is simply looking down and twiddling his thumbs while trying to craft plans for passing this class with great remarks. No hint of arrogance can be seen out of Ragatirta, which would be apparent from people who have others do their talking for them. It takes no eye of insight to tell that his overall mood is awkward.

“I uh…don’t mean to intrude, and I’m going to move once we get started, but I want to make sure we’re all on the same page.” Hyperion’s eyes flickered between Raga and Vadha, and he realized he could not have teamed together two more opposite-minded people. “Raga, you do plan on…communicating with Vadha, not just through your snake, correct?”

With the titan calling to him, Ragatirta snaps back from his idle thoughts and jumps out in shock. He quickly puts up a smile for Hyperion and tries to remember what he said before the sea prince gives his response, "Ah! No worries, sir Hyperion. My mind will be thoroughly conveyed. Communication will be assured between me and... my current ally."

The Sun Titan was still a little uncertain, but he looked between the two gods and nodded. “Alright. Do you two boys have any questions? Or does the snake have any questions?”

Ragatirta shakes his head to gesture his readiness, though a good observer might spot a gap in his confidence. "I have none, sir. I am ready, and so will Ula Ijo."

“Alright.” He turned and looked to Vadha, raising a brow. “I’m going to guess you’re just ready to fight, right?”

"Let me talk to the pretty guy for a bit." Vadha raises his hand towards Hyperion, marching towards Ragatirta before reaching out with an open palm. His eyes are focused on the Sea Prince, not to the serpentine servant around his neck. "Hey, the name's Vadha. I'll be your partner in this session. You're a sea god right? Tell me what you can do so that I can properly fight with you."

Ragatirta covered his own mouth with his hands in shock. "Can you ever believe this, Ula Ijo?! That man took a massive leap from formality and skipped straight to... calling me a 'pretty guy'?? That was completely uncalled for. I... I can't believe it, Ula Ijo!"

The Greater Mimic lowers his head as if sighing, and responds to his master's woe telepathically, "Perhaps he is what we always call... what was it... oh yes, an extrovert. Don't take it to heart, master. Such a man of his caliber is very much accustomed to treating everyone the same way. Anyway, he asked us to showcase your power. Shall I?"

To Ula Ijo's question, the sea prince gives a single nod, and the little vine snake leaps over to the sea in front of him. Drawing from its waters, the seawater level slowly drops and reveals the beach sand below. From a distance, Ula Ijo rises from the sea not in the form of a vine snake, but of the Beast Forme, one that Hyperion has been acquainted with before. Flying right above the seawater, he roars loudly, and several Lesser Mimics begin to take shape as different sea creatures, all floating around the serpent as if they're swimming, ready to take further orders.

Meanwhile, Ragatirta takes a timid turn to Vadha and bows before shyly saying his piece. "I, uh.. am not much of a... hmm... ah yes, a warrior or a fighter. I can defend myself a bit, but... e-e-expect Ula Ijo to do most of the fighting in my stead."
“You have to do some of the fighting to get the grade!” Hyperion called, though he did not step in the middle of their conversation. Maybe a friend like Vadha would help the poor sea god and his crippling anxiety around other peers. Or he would get both of them killed. Either way, he did not like that the snake seemed to be a crutch of sorts for the young god.

"Servants and minions are still his strength." Vadha looks up to Ula Ijo with a slight sharp glint in his eyes, and a bloody red fog begins to emit from his body like steam. The form that the serpentine servant has taken reminds him of the forms that Naga and the water dragons take, and his blood is burning with fighting spirit as he gazes at it. "But... If you want tips on how to fight yourself, come find me yeah?" He looks back at the shivering sea godling before him, before giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'll whip you up into a proper fighter in no time."

With only the touch of the shoulder from his classmate, Ragatirta shudders in shock. His mouth begins to move around, unable to form words, and his eyes are on the verge of tears.

Seeing this, Ula Ijo gives his master sound advice, his voice now accompanied by echoes, "Master. Look at me. Think at Baya Putih. Look at these mimics, Master! We are not born from our own will but yours. Your will and power gave rise to your right and left hand, yours alone. Know that you only need to know how to command the enormous power within, not even counting the vast seas before us. If we were to follow your teacher's instructions, then I must see myself out. Remember my words, master, and keep it in your heart. Good luck." Upon his last sentence, Ula Ijo's form dissolves into the seawater once again, as does every single Lesser Mimics formed around him. The snake then takes refuge in his true cradle, his master's thoughts.

Wiping the little tears that came out, Ragatirta looks up at Vadha before him, and smiles before looking down once again to say, "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." Finally, with all things settled, the sea prince turns to Hyperion, and give the teacher a nod, saying that he's ready for the upcoming fight.

Vadha really doesn't know what is going on with these two, but he simply nods in encouragement. Turning back to Hyperion, he puts himself in front of Ragatirta before unleashing a dreadful aura of black and red, of blood and rot swirling with the scent of death. The veins in his wrist burst as a veritable surge of blood forms into a great spear, which the God of Slaughter brandishes towards Hyperion.

"It's an opportunity of the century to fight against a Titan! LET'S SEE WHAT YOU GOT!"

Watching Ragatirta forming the courage to just speak was almost a little painful. Hyperion could never recall having been so nervous at a friendly pat on the shoulder. Then again, as he stared up at the cloudless sky, he recalled that he himself was not exactly the most virtuous god, and had lost his shame a while ago. He then shook his head, and cracked his knuckles. “Alrighty kids, I hope you brought your peanuts and cracker jacks, because it is time to play ball!”

Immediately, a huge ring of sunlight formed around the three gods. It wrapped from the last visible tree all the way to the beach water. Hyperion grinned, and he held his hands up above the two students. In the afternoon sky, millions of small stars-ironically, the size of baseballs-floated for a few split seconds before rushing down to potentially burn both students.

Not having much time to react, Ragatirta quickly speaks to Vadha, "I'm sorry, I'll think of something!" Soon after, he dissolves himself into seawater and sinks deep towards the crevices of the beach sand.

The burning light fills Vadha's eyes as he gazes towards the sky. Countless balls of flame streak down, with nary a space for one to take cover. For a split second, the God of Slaughter hesitated on his move. Should he gun it for their teacher, or should he protect his teammate?

Ragatirta's swift escape, however, made the choice easier for him. Vadha takes a step forward, before his body is propelled at lightning speed. Blood red light trails behind him as the sand beneath his feet is blasted away as a sonic boom erupts from his movement. With blood spear in hand, Vadha rushes towards Hyperion, ready to deliver a swift and deadly blow.

Hyperion whirled around in a blast, and he summoned an array of lances made from sunlight. Grinning at the pace that battle hard suddenly taken, he shot five of them at one of his challengers, hoping to pin him to the beach.

Reciprocating with a bloodthirsty smile of his own, Vadha's spear weaves in his hands like a work of art, trailing blood as he parries the Titan's own javelins of light against him. "MORE!" The godling shouts as he closes in even more, soon to be close enough to engage with Hyperion in the melee.

As the fighting ensues above the sands, Ragatirta allows himself a narrow space deep under the ground, enough for him to sit and move around a little. Curious on how the battle is ongoing, he dissolves his own left eye into seawater, and sends it towards the surface, where the eye formed once again. It floats well away from everyone else as the two gods focus on fighting each other.

In the meantime, the sea prince thinks, he thinks of what he should do without Ula Ijo by his side, of how he should fight and assist Vadha.

TZZZT!

The Sun Titan’s body buzzed and turned into light, speeding past Vadha and then grabbing the spears which had grazed him. Continuing in this non-corporeal form, he whirled in a storm-like pattern, trying to pull the sand out from under Vadha.

And maybe, he would also be able to pull his friend from hiding.

As the eye spots Hyperion's move, Ragatirta makes a surprisingly quick response by enveloping himself in a seawater barrier. Soon enough, the sea prince launches himself while inside the barrier and stops after hovering six meters above the beach.

Confused, Ragatirta executes the very first thing in his thoughts, and returns his left eye back to its original position. Focusing his sight on the Sun Titan, the sea deity then sends out barrages of homing water orbs from every surface of his circular barrier against his teacher. Ragatirta also aims a finger gun towards Hyperion, and a clump of seawater begins to form in front of his barrier as well.

The grin on Vadha's face vanishes when his target slipped away from his grasp, his spear's swing brushing against nothing. The strength behind it sent a wave of compressed wind that roared outwards, slicing through the empty air. His head immediately whipped towards where Hyperion escaped, before his feet found itself without support as the Titan summons a whirlwind of light and sand.

With divine alacrity, the God of Slaughter disappeared from his spot. The blood spear in his hand becomes engulfed with a black tar-like haze, and within it skulls lamenting their doom scream. "YOU CANNOT RUN FOREVER!" Vadha shouts as he rushes for Hyperion again, his weapon bringing with it the touch of death.

A sandstorm blew into effect as Vadha tried to aim for his teacher. Eyes, mouth, clothes, and anything else that could fill with sand would fill it, and that sand was also quite hot. Not yet diamond, but close. Hyperion knew that the fiercest place for any fighter was a desert, and their strongest opponent was the brutal heat itself.

In the meantime, the sand that was hit with water became mud, and flung itself around the trees and bushes further from the shoreline. He needed for Vadha to hit him, and then he would aim for the other one.

With the sandstorm raging, Ragatirta cannot aim against Hyperion. Yet he might do something against it. The clump of seawater then gathers itself to form a smaller orb. At the "firing" of his finger gun, the orb shoots a large, powerful water beam against the sandstorm, trying to clear it all with the water. The sea prince soon wastes no time to curl his own body while still looking ahead.

More clumps of seawater form themselves around Ragatirta, violently raging to be free and take shape.

Scorching sand pelts through Vadha's body, burning his body, skin, and clothes. The pain of feeling his flesh burn only fuels the God of Slaughter's bloodthirst, and with his speed he breaks through the sandstorm in order to reach Hyperion. With a flourish of his hands, the blood spear is brought downwards by prodigious strength, and its edge carries the sinister aura of death that would seek to corrode all things.

As Vadha made his way to the core of the sandstorm, the Sun Titan tossed a long whip of sun-driven wind and sand in Ragatirta’s direction. As it reached him, hot and heavy like a missile, it would pop the massive orb. Both students would have seconds to act as the water god fell from 20 feet in the air.

The sea prince wastes no time dissolving himself into seawater once again, and "leaps" towards one of the clumps forming around, which luckily was not the target for the titan's assault.

The seawater clouds total to ten, and all of them join as one, including Ragatirta's water body. As soon as it joins, ten separate water orb launches themselves towards different places, only one of which contains the sea deity's true body. At his will, more water beams are shot from each of the orbs, more powerful than the last. Some aim directly towards the sandstorm's core, and others fire against random directions within the sandstorm.

There is no time to worry about his teammate, when his prey is right in front of him. His trust wasn't unfounded as Ragatirta was able to maneuver his body through his sublime manipulation of water, and now it's time for Vadha to repay the strike that Hyperion has done.

"EYES HERE!" Vadha's spear cuts through the Titan's body of light, and Hyperion could feel the terrible pain of the touch of death as the God of Slaughter's spear cuts through his immaterial form. He begins his deadly dance with the Titan instructor, his movements a work of art unfolding as his spear cuts, slices, and pierces with killing intent, and his body maneuvers through the barrage of water beams and gusts of burning sand.

“GOOD! I KNEW YOU COULD HANDLE IT!”

Hyperion’s shout proceeded an explosion, as the sandstorm shot in every direction and temporarily blinded both fighters-especially if their eyes had not been closed.

When Hyperion reappeared, he cast rays of sunlight harder over the water and stilling the air. The boiling heat would be localized right in this area, and would make movement much more difficult in the humidity. To make matters worse, as the boys struggled with the sunlight, they could have sworn that more than one Hyperion was now walking around on the beach.

“Good teamwork, boys! But the kitchen is hot! So stay in the fight, or get out!”

As Ragatirta is currently water, the sandstorm couldn't hurt his eyes, but it does blind the sea prince. Furthermore, as the heat rises up, his body slowly begins to vaporize. In panic, he creates more seawater as an attempt to regenerate himself against the heat, but the sea deity finds himself in a difficult and vulnerable position.

That is when another clump of seawater, strangely not created by Ragatirta. It quickly gains the form of a humanoid, with hair long enough to cover his entire back. It opens what seems to be a mouth, and swallows the water that is Ragatirta inside its body.

Surprisingly, it braces itself against the heat without even flinching, and as it stands over the beach, the figure reveals its external shell. A man standing about seven feet tall, his hair reveals an ivory white color, while the skin reveals a darker brown tone instead. His body is built in a manner not like the jock Vadha, clad in golden armor and two gauntlets shaped like a crocodile's head.

The Left Hand of the Greater Mimic, Baya Putih, comes to the rescue of his master in his Champion Forme, opening his eyes to reveal only the color aqua green, a sign that the master Ragatirta resides within. The master himself can only feel shock and loss of words.

Not wasting any second, Baya Putih leaps straight towards Hyperion, punches ready to be thrown.

The continuous battlefield dominance that Hyperion has over the two godlings is becoming more and more serious. The Titan has held the advantage in setting up the terrain in accordance to his benefits, with sandstorm, heat, and burning light being the greatest hindrance against Vadha and Ragatirta. The God of Slaughter's blinded by the scorching sands, his flesh burning in several areas already, while his teammate's method of attack and his own self are evaporating.

As Baya Putih's entrance has lessened Vadha's burden as the Greater Mimic joins the fight. The God of Slaughter takes a breather, before slicing his spear across his torso with a bloodthirsty howl. "KING YAMA HEED ME! BRING ME TAMISRA'S TORMENT!" His divine blood gushes out, staining the sand beneath his feet. The beautiful and vibrant reds are quickly subsumed by the sands, yet the liquid turns viscuous and thick. It writhes and expands, which soon becomes a deluge of black slime. The power of death emanates from the surging sea of black blood, which then clashes against the barriers of light around the test field. All combatants in the battlefield now hear the wailings of the dead as Vadha, as his authority as a Death God, summons a piece of Hell to contend with Hyperion's own inferno.

The God of Slaughter shouts again, body burnt, bleeding, and blinded, as he bursts through the sandstorm, spear darkening with the shades of the dead surging from its tip.

With the sun burning like fire in the sky, Hyperion welcomed the attacks and brought down two huge rays of pure sunlight, one for each student. These rays turned into rays of speeding, burning light, which moved faster than both students and would burn them badly if they did not defend themselves. But they had to cross through the flames, or their attacks would not reach him.

With Ragatirta's power and being now residing within Baya Putih, as quick as the ray burns through the Greater Mimic's water body, it regenerates back. Burnt all over, Baya Putih could not keep most of the external shell, causing part of his body to reveal its watery form, ever vaporizing and restoring itself at the same time.

In silence, Baya Putih crosses his arms in front of him, and forms a water shield to block the titan's sunlight as the mimic slowly approaches.

Ula Ijo, who at this point is currently kept in Ragatirta's thoughts, tries to scream at his partner's mind. "What are you doing here?! This is a spar for the master alone to do! Leave, now!" His words fall on deaf ears, as Baya Putih would certainly leave under this circumstance. However, what the mimic knew when he arrived here was that Ragatirta was almost a step closer to death's door.

The sea prince, now fully conscious after the heavy assault against him, is relieved by the reinforcement, and from within Baya Putih he forms another clump of seawater far above the battling gods, slowly growing in size and violently churning as it is molding into a shape.

Finally, Ragatirta was controlling the destiny of his own battle. He was batting back at Hyperion, not holding back. He was angry at the snake for trying to control the flow of the fight, but he decided in a split second that issue was not worth trying to address right now. Now, he needed to focus. He could see the seawater building above their heads, and he needed to boil it down.

Taking the missile he had summoned at Baya Putih, he sent that one at the clump of seawater forming in the sky, all while keeping his attention on Vadha as well.

A flash of light, followed by a flash of pain, as the Titan's attack mercilessly slammed against the God of Slaughter's body. Blood and flesh burned in its passing, as the flames consumed Vadha's left arm, exposing cauterizing wounds and veins burning with red haze. Yet the godling never stopped, as if the pain and the anguish only made him stronger and faster. The darkness of Tamisra surges with him, devouring the light of the Titan as the souls of the dead beg to see the light of day once again, and the God of Slaughter raises his spear once more for another strike against his teacher.

With Hyperion's attention drawn to the clumps summoned by Ragatirta, Baya Putih inches closer and closer towards his master's teacher. "Threats... Against His Highness..." The mimic said in a low, deep, and monotone voice, as the crocodile's head on the right gauntlet opened its jaws. The water shield is kept intact by Baya Putih's left hand, but the he pulled the right one as he prepared to send his gauntlet's jaw against the Sun Titan.

"Threats? Oh no..." Ragatirta fears that Baya Putih possesses a killing intent against his teacher, blind to the serpent's words about a self defense class. Yet the sea prince has no time to sit in idleness in Baya Putih as the battle rages. As the missile impacts the clump of seawater above, the sea deity quickly gives it the thought and shape of a blue whale. In addition to Ragatirta's aforementioned blessings, the Lesser Mimic also receives a denser body to defend itself against the missile Hyperion sent, and it slowly circles above the battlefield, waiting for further order.

As the missile hit a solid target, another explosion would sound, and the light was bright enough to encapsulate and swallow the world around it. Such a bright white light, the boys would have to either defend their eyes or be both burned and blinded for at least a minute.

The blinding light flinches Baya Putih before he can even launch his fist. The mimic closes his eyes and leaps back a short distance away from Hyperion while keeping the water shield intact.

Meanwhile, an echoing whistle can be heard from inside the Greater Mimic, Ragatirta has given his orders. The whale, which has been unaffected by the light, swims upward until it's 10 meters above the beach. With its dense and huge body, the Lesser Mimic makes a fall, intending to drop itself right above the titan.

The Sun Titan had prepared for a lot of assaults from his students, and getting a minute of extra time against them would have been more than helpful.

The problem came when the Titan looked up, and an enormous whale’s shadow had fallen over him.

“Oh…oh boy.”

He stared up at it, before he looked around for a place to move. If it landed, however, which it would, he could see the tremendous damage done to the beach anyway. So he decided to hold his breath, and let it hit him.

As Hyperion's attention focused on the whale that is about to crash down into him, the surging darkness of the Hell of Tamisra has already flooded right up to his doorstep. The visage of Vadha, maddened by bloodthirst and killing intent, comes right up his vision. Half blind, burned terribly in so many places, the God of Slaughter plunges his spear into the Titan of the Sun, and the resentment of the dead comes flooding into him like a treacherous venom that wishes to snuff out both the light of the sun and the light of his life.

The whale crashed in a way that was less of a crash and more of a sonic boom. The sound reverberated through the entire school, the vibrations being more forceful than a simple slam from a distance. It was an earthquake. Things fell off desks across campus, bottles fell off shelves, desks and chairs shook or fell, and all of it was done in a matter of a couple of seconds.

And then the beach itself took the huge wave from every direction. The sunlight ring was gone, swept away as a tidal wave of water peeled backward and crashed over it. The sand for several meters rose dozens of feet into the air, making huge splashes all around the battlefield. Wet clumps of dirt, sand, and grass became missiles, hurtling into the students or whoever was standing within fifty feet of the epicenter.

The whale sat still, as a whale does once it is beached on land. Hyperion was somewhere underneath, but there was another problem. If Vadha had gotten too close, he himself would have been submerged under the whale, somewhere deep in what was now quicksand for both gods.

Fortunately, when Ragatirta dropped the whale, he knew what to do and gave an order to Baya Putih, "Baya Putih! Dissolve!"

In a wordless obedience, the Greater Mimic turned himself, and in extension his sea prince, into seawater. They beheld as the whale caused massive destruction on its fall. Ragatirta couldn't believe it himself. He couldn't believe that he would cause all those ruckus in his school. He felt severely guilty, especially towards Hyperion, who received a direct slam against the whale's full force.

As the whale finally sits still, the Southern Sea Prince takes no time to reform his right hand, now that both he and Baya Putih have been joined to the sea. The hand arises from the sea and twirls its index finger, and thus, the whale reverts into seawater and pulls itself back into the ocean.

A few moments of silence passed, long after the tremendous pressure of the seawater had sloughed off the two gods. Hyperion’s hand came through the now soup-like sand, and he swam for a few of feet with his head beneath the surface trying to find land. At the same time, he was feeling blindly for Vadha’s hand, trying to make sure he did not sink further.

When he had grabbed him, he pulled both of them to the nearest solid patch of land, and he lifted his head through the sand with a titanic effort.

“MFFFFFFFGGGGGH!”

His eyes, nose, and mouth were full of sand, which then blasted out of his face with a burst of sunlight through each orifice. Nevertheless, one of the strongest beings on the campus faculty now looked more like a marooned vacationer, on his knees vomiting sand into the grass.

“Gods…blagh…ah, sweet Gaia in a swimsuit, my stomach…Raga!” He called to the young sea god, as he pulled a flask and drank from it to try and lubricate his throat. “Raga! Can you summon some freshwater from the lake over here? Vadha’s face is full of sand!”

"Forgive me sir Hyperion!" Ragatirta's shout echoes from the sea not far away, "I am not exactly the God of Freshwater. Do you want the sea to clean you away, sir?"

Vadha is utterly flattened underneath the sand, stunned by the sudden whalefall upon his body. Thankfully, the Titan was able to pull him off the sand, but the God of Slaughter is still running on pure adrenaline and the need for murder. With one hand grasped by Hyperion, Vadha is swinging his other arm that's grasping his spear wildly and blindly, having his eyeballs not only burnt by sunlight but also by sand and seawater. "AAAAAAAGH! I'LL KILL YOU!"

“VADHA! VADHA! VADHA!!!” Hyperion grabbed the young god’s shoulders, but he almost felt he was swinging with a bull in a rodeo. Both of them were exhausted, but in different ways. The Sun Titan felt himself almost thrown aside, until he found a way to wrap his legs around the Slaughter God’s torso and knocked him to the ground. “That’s enough, buddy, ya’ll won! You did exactly what I asked you to do, which is to not hold back and to make my life miserable in this fight! You did good! STOP SWINGING THE LANCE!!!”

The Sun Titan immediately found a way to truly stop the God of Slaughter's bloodthirsty rampage and it is by immobilizing him. His strength was enough to overpower Vadha's own, stopping him from blindly swinging his spear as he is fueled by bloodthirst alone. A moment passes as the haze of blood and death evaporates from the godling's exhausted form, before he drops his spear by his side. "We... We won...?" Vadha manages to say between heavy breaths, his injuries already healing rather quickly as divine blood bleeds out in order to patch his wounds.

Hearing that everything has settled down, Ragatirta returns to his original form and leaps out of the sea in a style similar to a mermaid in their constant leaps against the seawater. The sea prince lands on his left heel first onto the sands, and opens his left palm to gather all the seawater upon his body and clothes to dry himself.

After drying himself up, Ragatirta slowly walks towards the heavily wounded gods with the face of a man full of guilt on him. "I... I am really sorry. I didn't intend to... I'm sorry, sir Hyperion," the sea deity apologizes while bowing multiple times, then turns toward Vadha to do the same. "I am sorry to you as well. I didn't think that would hurt you. I'm really sorry."

“Raga!” Hyperion continued to cough for a few moments longer, trying to get the rest of the sand out. He even swished his mouth with the liquid in his flask and spit it onto the beach, all before he addressed the nervous sea god. “Raga!” He had to laugh before he could even make his words. “Raga, you did great! You did amazing! You don’t need to apologize!”

Getting to his feet and still laughing, he put the flask aside and wiped some sand out of his shirt and legs. “Not only did you win, you did it in a way I never would have expected! You summoned an ENTIRE WHALE! Do you realize how incredible that is?! How much strength?!”

Upon hearing his teacher's remarks, Ragatirta lets out a sigh of relief and quickly answers the question Hyperion gave him with a slight smile towards the titan, "The whale itself isn't that strong, sir. After all, it's just seawater. I just added more pressure and weight to it, like the water dwelling in the deeper parts of the sea. I thank you for the positive remarks, sir. I... Even though, it was a cheap tactic on my end, and I hurt my friend as a result..."

Ragatirta cannot finish his words. For as much as the sea prince is glad for the praise, the thought of sacrificing an ally to execute a strategy isn't really the thing to be proud of. The smile fades from Ragatirta's face, and he looks down to the sands below him. His pride, for as quickly as it rose thanks to Hyperion's praise on him, falls down thanks to his own realization.

“We’re gods, kid. This isn’t a dodgeball court for some 7th grade humans. This is a battlefield for training gods. This is why humans don’t come up this mountain!” He had to give another laugh. The poor thing was so shaken, he could hardly believe he was receiving praise. “And Vadha was doing what he was supposed to! If you hadn’t summoned the whale, he probably would have stabbed me! That was the whole idea was for both of you to at least hurt me. And you did!”

He looked at both gods. “Yeah, you both did good. You’re going to both need to go to the infirmary for a checkup, but I’ll give you both full marks. I don’t know if Coat’s started his training yet, but if he hasn’t you’re invited to watch after Hestia checks on you. Do either of you have questions?”

"You did well, my guy... You should be proud if this is your first fight." Vadha tries to smile towards Ragatirta's direction, which would have been terrifying in the Sea Prince's view. The Slaughterer's injuries are bleeding profusely, and the way that his flesh and skin are mending is visible to the naked eye. His eyes are burnt blind, with tears of blood flowing from them as his body is recovering from his injuries. Yet it seems that despite all of it, Vadha looks like he has been used to such pain and punishment, and would soon be healed given time.

"Uhhhh... Think I'll be fine. I might get some sore muscles but hey, that just means training is working." He faces towards Hyperion and gives him a thumbs up. "Though... Some snacks from the good Auntie would be really good right now."

Hyperion realized the extent of Vadha’s injuries as he looked at him. He had taken far more damage than his classmate, but seemed to be fine by that fact. “You’re definitely going to the infirmary, and I’m going to walk with you. I think Raga, you’re fine, but you should still come with me. And snacks? Snacks around the house.”

Wasting no time, he took Vadha’s arm and nodded for Ragatirta to come along. He was getting better at this supporting-the-students’-development business, after all.

In joy after receiving his friend and teacher's genuine praise, Ragatirta turns away to hide the excitement obviously painted in his emotions.

"I did good, Ula Ijo! They told me I did good! Vadha and sir Hyperion, they... oh, I can't even continue..." The sea prince speaks of his excitement to his Right Hand currently resting in his thoughts.

Seeing that the dust has settled, Ula Ijo returns to his master's side, coiling around his neck in the usual form of a vine snake. "Perhaps that master's excitement is so great that you cannot but speak it out loud?"

Ragatirta's eyes open widely in shock. He intended to only speak to his mimic, and yet his lips would be the one to shout his thoughts instead. The sea deity slowly and awkwardly turns to the Sun Titan to answer his offering, as if the previous moment of excitement doesn't exist. The face of the nervous and anxious sea prince from before can be seen as he speaks, "O-of course, sir. I'll be going with you two." He can't keep his gaze towards the two bruised gods, and simply looks down at the sand under his feet.

Hyperion could only smile. The boy was slowly showing his personality. He would bring it out of him, one way or another. For now, he just needed to make sure both of them were safe and healed. And so he walked them to the infirmary, eyes ahead, glad that this afternoon’s exercise seemed to be a success.