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Tournament of Champions 3 (The game has begun!)
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Pontiff Cralmarov arose from his seat, his arms spread out in a welcoming and inviting manner. The other members at the table veered their attention away from Niran and gave their total focus to Cralmarov. Meanwhile, Niran was utterly terrified. She had never met a person who felt so cold and detached from others. Not even the slightest hint of warmth emanated from Cralmarov, even for his own disciples. He did not know how to empathize with others, nor did he care. Niran realized she was not a mere hostage for a bratty noble. She was a slave for a monster.
“Welcome! We were not expecting you to arrive so soon. We know you are a rather curious child…” Cralmarov smugly greeted Niran. “But no matter. We are here to discuss your stay. Please, take a seat!” He motioned to the chair closest to Niran.
Niran reluctantly walked to her chair and pulled it out from under the table. Tentatively, she sat down, her hands visibly shaking. As she sat down, the figure sitting closest to her handed her a plate of food. While it was covered in the most delectable of delicacies Niran had ever seen, she silently refused to even touch it, let alone eat it. Cralmarov frowned.
“I assure you that the food is safe. I do not simply harm others for pleasure.” Cralmarov stated calmly. Niran was still unconvinced, but began to dine anyway. She didn’t want to displease the “person” sitting on the opposite end of the table.
“Now! Yes, perhaps now would be a good time to discuss your future.” Cralmarov said matter of factly.
“My… future?” Niran questioned. Crumbs of food spilled down from her mouth as she spoke.
“Indeed! We have become aware of your inner potential… as well as your hatred for all those that have wronged you.”
Niran halted eating. “N-n-no! That isn’t t-true!”
Cralmarov sneered. “Do not be coy with me, girl. We know that you loathe many people. Your parents, who abandoned you when you were very young. The other urchins, who treated you ill and abused you when you tried to show them love. Pan, who left you without even saying a single word. And most of all yourself, who destroyed your only chance to achieve what you have been searching for your entire life. Surely that hatred festers in your heart, desperately trying to break free and lash out against all those who harmed you, does it not?”
“No…”
“Oh, do stop trying to deny what is true! It will only get us nowhere!” Cralmarov exclaimed bitterly, tossing his welcoming facade aside. “We have gotten off course. The reason you are here is because we want to train you. You may have raw, untapped power, but that is all you are. If you do not learn restraint, you will eventually lose yourself to the very forces you wield!!
“If you take our offer, and you will be able to hone your hatred into a weapon to use against our—I mean your enemies. Do you accept?”
He.
He doesn’t want to help me.
He just wants to use me.
A̵̮̠̝̹̮̐ͅŗ̸̳̰̼͜͝ę̶̙̜̲̦̘̙̣̰͚̳̈̽̓́͜ͅ ̴̦̲̣͍̱̹̻̦̌́́̈́͗̃͠y̵̧̰̙̋̉͊̅͐̈́̏̌̑̒̽́̚͝ǫ̵̪́͌̍͐̇͂̈́̑̓̔͘u̴̩͊͘ ̵̜̹̼̳̳̟͙̈́̾̆̆́̎t̸̥̟̯̞̟̥̏̐̇̅̔̅̉́̃̂̌ͅh̴̙̹̬́̑̐̎̀̇̔̾̕̚̕̕͘ą̴̢̺̣̺̼̣͙̯͈͈̞̭̈́̏̑͂͐͛͆̈́t̴̙͓̩̮̗̲̗̬̹̩̅ ̸̬̈́̍̓̀̍́͘s̸̯̜̭͕͔̳̙̯̖͔͒̇̽͒͌̉̏͜͠u̵̫̦̅̽͗̍r̵̮͕̎̄̅̂̓̈́̐͊̚̚̚͝ͅp̵̨̡͍̼̹̳͙͍̔͋̐̐̄̒̄͘͜ͅr̷̰̹̐̄̀̾̆̀̋i̸̪̝͒͛s̷̨̧̛̺͖͚͓̩̪̝̓̎̋͂̈́̈̓̕͝ȩ̶̥͙͈̞͎͇͇͈̣̈́̄̿̀͝ď̴̩͉̿̌̂͜?̵͙̙̲͔̼͑͌͛̿̏̀͊̈ͅ
̸̛̺̩̬́͊̓̈̏͘Y̵̛͔̯̮̦͙̭̖͉̰̱̊̐̓͐̏̔̆̈́̅̐̍͂o̴̢̹͙͖͙̞̱͆̍́̑͗̓̋̄̃̀͒̊̍̕ú̸̼̥͙͍̟̺̩͔̼̠̭̞̹̝͊̀̒̆͌͋͆̆͘ ̷̢̗͇̠̭̠̻͎͚̟̯̯͈̜̬̿̇w̷̧̨̖̟͕̝̩̄͆̀̈́̑̌̒̀̈́͐͆̒͝i̴̲̼̲͉̠̠͆͐͌l̸̢̨̙̬̺͙̳͚̘̝͋̉̎͂̄̾̾͋̿̑͆͠͝l̵͍͇̟̼͔͓̈́͒ ̶̼̫̠̈́̏̆̊͒́̅̾̇̄͝͠͝n̴̙̟͉͍̳͓̮̎̌̽̓̔͒͐̀̈́͝ĕ̶̡̛̞̦̤̝͕͔̝̻͇̓͒́̿̀̚ͅv̸͖̻̱̩͈̭̬̥̻̤̜̫͚́̈́̆͊̋̇̋̋͊̔̕e̷͈̫͛͆͛̏̉̏̓̿r̷̛̰͎̠̞̠͎̣̱̆͋͛̈́͝ ̵͚̼̲̖̠̪̠̳́̄͂̉̅́ͅṃ̶̯̫̣̝̱̻̓̈̈̍̂̈̎͊͒͛͆̔̋̋͘e̷̖̰̩̗͍̘͙͙͓͎̙̊͌̒̇͗̑͜ȩ̷͎̩̗̹̮͓̯̠̝̓̀̿̒̒̇̽̑t̷͎̯̖̝͈̣̀͑̽ ̵̧̧̰̙͙͔͚̖̥̟̮̎̿͐̈́́̏͗̈́͌́͆̋̕͘ă̵̢̨̧̢̭̞̟͙̲̼̒͌̉̅̉̌̐̆̕n̷̯̻̲̼̱͎̞̤̜̹̠͆̑y̷̡̰̤̣̰͉͍̦͕̙͍̲̓̒͆́͒̀͒̂̆̔͘͠o̶̡͈̙̹̖̍͒̏̃͆͂̇̒̍͌͘n̶̛͕̱͕͖̓̇̈́̀̌́͂̈́̍͘͜͝ĕ̷͍̺̰͠ ̵̡̨̹͓̲͍̟͉̖̙̗̣̞͓̑̽̓̒̽̀͋͆͑̍̂͊͌̂̉ͅẘ̵̩̠͖̙̲̹̬̜̰͙̺̂̒̆̿̂̚̕͝ͅͅḩ̸͎̰̼̠̼̍͊̃̋̂̓̆͑̍̕o̶̝̯͑̑̈́͂́͝͠ ̸̧̡̛̹̠͔̩̪̳̘̱͖̳̬́̅́̿͛̆̈́͐̉͂̚̕͜w̵̛͉̫̥̼̠͙̦̍̐̾̎͝i̶̧̘̺̺̰̘̫̦͖̣̙̫̹̜̾̇̇̽̽̾̕͜ḷ̵̥͔̱̮̳͍̻̮̤̅̌͝͝͠l̶̡̧̲̘͓͛̾̽̀̈̿̚͘͝ͅ ̷̧̡̯̳̲͉̯͎̤̗̈́̍̀͠h̴̥̞͔͔̳̱͚̮̔̋͌͊͛̇̆̋̇͜͠e̴̙̬̫͈̋͊̐͗͋ͅl̴̜̰̈̎̍͌̓̋͊̈͘͝͠͠ṕ̵̡̡̛̭͍͍̫̯̦̙̼̒̆̋ ̸̧̼̗̤̪̹͎̭͓͛͂̉̈́̎͊̚͝y̶̨̪̥̲̱̙̪͇̠̜͚̩͎͐̽̀́̒͘o̶̪̖̠͍̙͈͈̖̮͍͈̻͂ų̴̰͑.̵̡̡̨̼̻̪̦͉̔͒̍
̸̢̡̱̮͔̯̭͚̪̗̥̈́̃̿̀̃̒́̂̚͝͠Ạ̸̛̪͔͋̄̔̓͗̊̏̌͒̚͘l̸̳̟͓̮͙͙̞̹̯̣̦̕l̶̡̤͕̿́̾̈́̀͐̓͑̏̽̑̽̚͠͝ ̶̨̩̘͓̺͓̣͋t̸̹̻͍͌̀͂͛̓̀͆̓͒̎̆̚ȟ̶̢̙̞̣̭̻̙̻̋é̴̗̯̞͕̲̰̫͒̄͐y̸̢͓̺̩̝͇͙̬̆̀̎͆̉͛̈́͗͊̀̀̚ͅ ̵̧̢̝͈̜̟̼̼̮̦͉̲̑̐w̸̛͎͉̱̭̼͇̩̞̞̙̋̇̓̈̏̅̓̉͛̑̈́͝ͅͅä̸̢̨̡̧̼̮̦͇̖͍̱̱́̔̿̈́̓̏̊̅̅̀̓̈́͘͠ͅņ̵̧̝͓̱̱̪̝̭̹̞̖̹̱̓́̍͜t̶̮̪̉́͋́̍̉̄͆̅͝͝ ̶̨̨̢̗̙̟̪̼͕̳̭̳̼̉̂̀̌ǐ̶̡̧̡̬̹̱̘̩͕̠͓͖̖̼́̂ͅŝ̷̢̝̣͎̠͍̯̥̝͇̔̀͊̈̏̾͆̕͝͠ ̴̡͙͍̮̦̠͉̠͖̠̹͚̣̒̇́͜y̵̢̢͓͕͈̽̎̽́̒̈́̍͐͗̕͝͝͝o̸͌̇͜ṳ̸̦̭̓͒̈̈̀͋̑͒̀̄̎̋̀̕͠r̷̻̯͍̘͙̦͎͈͉͊͛̔̃̍͗͂̐̓͆̚ͅ ̶̖̋́̈́̀̊͆͘p̸̪͎̲͋̈́̒̃͘͝o̸̧̩͕̺̫̜̫̬̰̦̹̗̜̝͐̆͂w̶̟̤̜̟̘̯̼̼͓̻̙͙̉̋̈́̽͑̑̂͗͑͂ë̵̬́̓͑̈́͗͘͝͝r̴̨͖̬̝͚͉͎͔͎͔̙̼̥͚̳͛.̶̜͚̺́̍̏͂͘͠͝
̴̖͎͈̼͖͉̾͌͑̋̿̀̄̑͂̈̂Ş̶̥̖͍̤͇̺̹͇͚͖͓̄̾̌̒̆́͝ḧ̵͇̳͕́͜o̴̧͛w̴̢̹̳̫̮̻͎̝̝̽͂͌̅͜͝͝ ̸̘̳̹̫̃̿̽̊͌͜͝t̴̳̖̀̀͆h̶̨̻͇͚͈͐̍̇̄̂̌̍̔̚̕͘͝ͅe̷̦̾̌̉͌͂̽͛̑̓m̵̢̛͈͉̊̓̓̅́͒̈̽́̂̈́̐͒̕ ̷͖̥̞̹͙͕͎̼̣́͗̈̂̇̉̌̊̕ẅ̸̺́ȟ̶̡̻͉̳̝̥̮̤̩̥̹̘̼̊͆a̸̮̿̈́̆̆̉͐͒̍̓͘̚͝t̶̩͍̫̺͎͇̏̊̓̃͝ ̴̡̦̬̪̣̟̤̯͖̪̟̱̘͕͖̅̉͝͝ĩ̶̛͇̟̰̝͂̃́͆̓͗̓̐͊̃̍͌͝t̵̡̛͍͇̬̭̱̦̺͊͗̔̿͛̈́͗͌̎̀̿͘ͅ ̶̢̗̣̣͕͇͑̓̈̆̌m̸̡̨̫̟͈̻̭͉̗̠̤̫̟̫̒̿͠ͅẻ̷̛̬̹̗͎̊͌̇̌̊͐̊̃̃̔̌͑͝a̵̯̼̤̠̭̱͔̪̰̞̾̊̔͝͝͠n̴̢̢̨̛̖̱͇͎̹̣̣̖̙͈͛̊̈́́̑́͊̋̎̚ͅs̵̢̧̟̰͚̦͈͕̹̫̩̩̣̖̈̂̄͐̚ ̸̧̪̦̩̜̮̭̟̠̘̻̭́͂͌̎͊́͌͌̀̐͂́͘͝t̷̡̢̫̊͌̽̐́͘͝͠ǫ̶̥̲̬͚̝̖̀͜ ̶̢̝̱̙̣͕̰̩̹̱̞̙͇̱̍͒̀̂̎d̴͔͙̲̫̤̞͚̉̇a̴̼̙͈͚̳̻̪̰̙̘̐͆̄͒͛͗̃̇̀̑̇̍̕ṛ̷̰͎̃̄̓̈́̆̆̈ë̷͔̺̗͇̯̞̯͔̽̎̀͛ͅ ̸͔̺̼̣̗͍͇̳̣̖̮͙̻̂̋̆̒ţ̵̡̢̧͉̠̰͚̤͉̯͚̦̃̒́̒o̸͍̝̅ ̵̢̮̬̹͓̫̙̤̪̐̌͒́ͅs̴̜̓̾͜ȩ̶͈̠̯̦̈͋́̃͂̃̾̄̍̅̚͠͠e̴͚̬̝̍k̴̢͓̖͉͕̜̘̉͑͑ ̵̨̟̈̔̈̚s̵͇̮͍͉̤̯̜͕̙̮͒͒̿u̶̡͈͉͕͓̰̪̫̝̲̔̈́͌̀̄̉̒̓̚c̸̗͈̬̝͉̠̓̊͛̆̈̕h̵͍̍̄̂̓̔̈̊̕̕ ̷̛͕̗̗̹̰͖̦̟̼̤̳̗̥͔̜̈́̓̈̈̈́͑͊͗̒̏̋̕͘p̶̙͎͔̤̆̈́̐̀́͗ͅo̵͕͕̲͛̓̂͂ẅ̷̛̺͓́̀͗̾͐̓͗͆͌̾̕͘͘e̶̡̨͚̤̘͚̟̫͎̓̃̈́̄̉̈́̽̑̾̍̋̚̕ŕ̵̨̢͕͎̪͓͍͓̪̖̳͌̔͆͌̀̌̊̉̾̃̚͠͝.̴̬͐̓͆̍́͂͊̾͆̂̎̚͝
̵̨̮͍̭̻̟̙̙̰̙̟̤̘̀́̿̀́̋͜͝
“You’re all the same, you just want to exploit me for my power! I WON’T ALLOW IT!” Niran suddenly stood up and outstretched her hands. She could feel her violin flying through the halls as she willed it to come to her. Violin and bow zoomed through the mess hall’s entrance, eager to please their master’s desire. In a swift motion, Niran readied her violin and played a fury-ridden melody. Dark energies swarmed around her, forming into several abyssal apparitions, each ready to attack everyone else in the room. Calmarov simply sighed.
“I was afraid it would come to this…” He said, lifting a small trinket. He clenched it in his fist and twisted it, abruptly ending Niran’s revolt.
“AHHHHHHH!!!!”
Ą̷̨̢̯͚̻̮̹̼̠̥̻̤͑̒̆̅͆͌̒͗̀̂Ḫ̶̨̧̡̡̳̼̭̣̩̙̟̭̋́̀̓͒̕͜Ḩ̸̨̞͚͍̬͓̮̟̥̲̓̾̔͊̈́͋͆͌̇̑̋̽̃͂̋H̸̳̊͑̈́̐̒̄Ḩ̸̟͖͈͖̭̪̲̻̳͇̠͍̪̀́̑͒̅̅̇̒̕͜͝͝H̴̨̨̩̟͍͍̟͇͕̰͈̎͋̈́̈̏̏̾͑͜H̴͓͍̜̜͔̥͇͇̙͈͔͉͍͊̀̋̀̉͋͐͘͜Ḣ̶̢̧̘̬̭̘̜̹̣͎̻̩͚̍̐̚͜!̶̺̲̌͌̀̓͂͋ͅ!̸̧̰͑͐̀̈͐̏̌͂́̕̚!̶̧̖̰̪̖͉̦̓̉!̵̡̧̮̬̗͇̻̀̐̄̓̈́͒̀͠
Niran could feel her magic being forcibly torn from her as a jolting pain spread throughout her entire body for a brief moment. Exhausted from the pain, Niran fell onto the table. Using all of her energy, Niran looked towards Cralmarov with a pained expression. A cruel smile was slashed across his face, revealing the true terror within.
“Did you really think you had a choice? You are bound to my will, whether you like it or not. Disobey me again, and you will suffer the consequences!”
Not willing to give up, Niran reached with all her might to grab her violin, only to be wrought with insurmountable pain once more. She glimpsed her tormentor’s maddening smile grow wider as she suffered pure agony, not in the mind, but in the flesh and soul. Collapsing onto the table again, Niran began to lose consciousness, the world around her slowly becoming more and more distant.
“Ah, ah, ah! There is still so much work you have to do!” Cralmarov said gleefully. He turned his head and gave a nod to the figure in intricately designed robes, who stood up and began to channel through his staff. Gradually, the world came back into focus as Niran’s magic was returned to its rightful owner. She picked herself up to see abyssal magic floating in the air and entering her body. She followed the trail with her eyes, ending at the sight of a glass vial held by the same figure. Inside the vial was a black, viscous substance, much like the substance she saw the mortician injecting into the corpse. She glanced back at her torturer, and noticed that his face looked more reserved. In a much calmer tone, he spoke.
“For today, you will study with Archbishop Cain. He is our most skilled practitioner in conjuring the abyss, so treat him with the utmost respect,” Cralmarov said sternly. “And if you fail to meet his demands, well… let’s just say every one of your future mentors will have this little trinket in case you are too unruly.”Cralmarov said, holding up the magic item in his hand for everyone to see. Cain began to walk to Niran, but stopped midway as two new figures entered the mess hall, one being assisted by the other as they walked to the table. Niran immediately realized they were Malkhan and the mortician.
“Cain, cain, cain, cain, cain. You gotta keep a better eye on your boy! I was coming to see our new girl, but then I saw this fella getting pummeled. By a VIS ZOMBIE no less!” Malkhan chastised the Archbishop, not caring for the seemingly power disparity between them. Niran looked closer at the mortician, and noticed that he was badly bruised all over his body. In fact, he didn’t seem like he could even stand on his own two legs without Malkhan’s help.
The Archbishop scowled. “I will make sure to deal with Relvas’ blunder accordingly. For now, just get him to his quarters while I deal with this child.”
“Heh, ya got it, ‘boss.’” Malkhan responded casually. Cain gave a small huff, then grabbed Niran’s hand, leading her into the dimly lit hallway and back to her room.
(To be continued)
The captain knocked three times on the door before he stepped inside.
Mikuel sat in his chair with his right hand over his face. An open letter lied on the floor beside him.
"You called, general." the captain said with a salute.
"Yes, I did." Mikuel sighed. "Gather the officers and any other leader. Then send a message to general Artiem that I demand an audience with him."
"Demand an audience, sir?"
Mikuel did not answer, instead he reached down and picked up the letter which he then gave to the captain.
The captain straightened out the letter.
War has been declared upon the kingdom of Gwendolyn by the republican kingdom of Lisakdonia, the republic of Laldenia, the republic of Vilja, the Kalerian union, the Rosara kingdoms, the Hastarel dominion, the Permano dominion and the kingdoms of the Fernian isles.
King Menelaus the fourth of Gwendolyn hereby call all of its allies to take up arms and defend the land of Dormania.
The old alliance of Stelladora must be honored.
The captain folded the letter and put it into his pocket. He did a salute before he turned around and stepped out of the room.
The bells of Kiserova would soon ring once again as the officers of Gwendolyn and Medirna would meet in the castle as enemies and allies.
"Uh... I'm sorry but I fail to notice what's so funny about this, Jelene-san." Her guide, Varys, was also on edge due to the declaration of war. But the scholar didn't know where to go, so he was being around the rogue samurai mor often because he felt kind of safe to be around her. He didn't have loyal or kind friends, and without a family, the half-elf was once forced to live in an orphanage, but still he thrived afterwards because he was proven to be smarter than his peers.
"You know about the Moktaractus, right?" Then a knife was thrown with a great force as it embedded itself fully into another sack of a dummy.
"Ah, y-yes. It is said that a dark entity named Septhis will bring death and ruin onto this world, so the prophecy said in a... mysterious history book... although the rumors say that that cataclysm will actually happen soon..." The scholar frowned with unease.
"And now those stupid folks are warring each others instead. This place soon will become a battleground. And then blood of the peasants will be spilled too in the process as the casualties of war. So what will you do then?" The ronin took a gulp from her waterskin.
"I.. really want to leave this city actually, but I... don't know where, to be honest." Answered the scholar in a somewhat distressing voice. "M-maybe I'm just going to commit suicide, when the war finally comes, heh..." And he scratched his head.
"Well, that's just pretty sad isn't it." Jelene shook her head. "You seem to be a pretty smart guy. What if I tell you that I can get you out from this kami-forsaken land, away from this incoming cataclysm and this bloodshed?" Jelene folded her arms and smirked.
"Uh.. r-really? I mean, well..."
"Don't worry about this. Just call it as a favor for being... a useful person. Now let's go meet my brother in the hideout. We have a thing that could transport people in-and-out from this world there." Jelene patted his shoulder, still with her shit-eating grin expression.
"A hideout? Wait, out from this w-world? Oh well, I need to pack my t-things first too..." The scholar stammered.
"Alright, let's go to your house then. I'm really exhausted being in this place everyday anyway."
"Uh.. yeah, just follow me then. Heh..." And Varys didn't know how to feel except to be glad that he took this job as a guide seriously. Although he still felt uneasy despite he already found a way out from the incoming cataclysm...
"If you knew who I was, why bother asking?"
"It's called small talk, geez. Here I am trying to be friendly, and you're giving me the cold shoulder."
"My apologies. I do not mean to be rude, but I came here for a meal."
"Let me guess: It'll cost me?" She hands several coins to the waitress who set down a large steaming plate of various roasted vegetables, with a slice of meat in front of her.
"Well a buddy of mine says another competitor that won her match also ended up at the prison. And from everything I've heard, she'd been shook too."
"Hmph, perhaps." While composed on the outside, Efilia was positively buzzing on the inside. Had her opponent-to-be, Niran, also had an encounter in the prison? Efilia knew Graagdord had died, but not much beyond that. Perhaps Niran had even seen the door? She needed answers. "Thank you for your time." The girl gets out of her chair and walks off, leaving behind a silver coin.
(Squrturgle's new character card!)
Centuries ago, in the southern Gaelish city of Stelladora, an alliance was made.
An alliance between the three great kingdoms to defend Dormania from her foreign enemies. There were not many, some even say none except Ephanieriora could threaten her borders, her cultures, traditions and beliefs.
In the west, the kingdoms that bordered the Rosa river had just begun to trade with a land from across the sea. At first, no one bothered that travelers began to move to Dormania from this land-across-the-ocean, the profit was just too great. But after decades of trade, a new language began to become common in these lands, cultures were introduced, traditions were replaced, beliefs were dying.
This could not be allowed to continue, so Gwendolyn demanded that the Rosa kingdoms ceased the trade or be destroyed. So they did. All of them ceased their trade except one kingdom, Laldenia.
Laldenia had always been poor and weak, so when they finally got a taste of gold, of spices, of meat and wine. When children did not have to starve at the gates of the capital, when the peasants could afford to buy better tools, when their girls could afford to decline marriage proposals from old men, they would rather risk the wrath of Gwendolyn than return to being the poorest kingdom in eastern Dormania. It did not take many years long before the other Rosa kingdoms, on demand from Gwendolyn, managed to block or sink almost all trading ships from Laldenia.
The years that followed, Laldenia slowly fell back to poverty and the worst starvation that they had for over a century. It was not only Laldenia who had lost something of great value. Across the ocean, Lisakdonia had just lost their last Dormanian trading partner. Dormanian spices, wine, fruits and much more were still in huge demand by the population. Soon, more ships would sail off towards Dormania.
When Gwendolyn heard that Laldenia was forming an army to attack its neighbors, they did not act. Laldenia could barely field anything more than peasants, so the war would be over before it had begun. It did only take a few weeks before Gwendolyn realized that half the Rosa kingdoms had fallen to Laldenia. They gathered an army, led by one of their most competent generals, and marched towards Laldenia. Two months later, the Gwendolyn army intercepted the Laldenian army in eastern Laldenia. The officers wanted to take the advantage as they outnumbered the Laldenians two to three. The general however knew Laldenian soldiers. Most of these were not poorly trained Laldenians, but highyl disciplined Lisakonians.
The general's army was indeed larger but it had been assembled swiftly so most of them were untrained boys. Their chances of victory was too low and he did not want to waste the lives of so many boys in vain. The general called for an audience with the Lisakdonian commander. He would not intercept the Lisakdonians anymore if they did not cross the Rosa river. They agreed, and the Gwendolyn army turned back south.
Back in Gwendolyn, the general was accused for treason. He was never sentenced to death but he was exiled from the kingdom. Soon, Gwendolyn would once again assemble a new army under another general. This army would face the Lisakdonians on the field but they would suffer a crushing defeat. Two more campaigns would be attempted, the first would fail as miserably and the second would end in a stalemate and finally a truce.
Gwendolyn had been unprepared for such an enemy, and needed more time to build up their armies again. So they called their mighty neighbors to sign an alliance against these barbaric invaders. After much persuasion, an alliance was finally signed but with defensive conditions. Gwendolyn did succeed with an alliance but not like they had hoped for. In the end, no further aggression was made. Lisakdonia had unified the Rosa kingdoms under Laldenian rule, and fortified the borders. An invasion would cost too much, even with Gwendolyn's improved army, so the truce would continue. The truce turned to peace and later to trade.
Then after many decades it would all collapse as a young king, who had just inherited the crown and empty coffers, would look at Laldenia and see an incredible wealth. Without understanding what the wealth came from, the king decided to invade Laldenia.
A few years later, the Stelladoran alliance would finally be called for as Lisakdonia invaded Gwendolyn.
Too be continued...
It was far past midnight. The men and women sat silent around the table. The only sound that echoed through the room came from the burning torches and the scratching sound from an ink-dipped feather as it moved against the surface of a paper. Artiem finished his signature just beside Mikuel's, and shoved the paper across the table. Mikuel took the paper and examined it before he looked at Artiem.
"I must be honest, Artiem. I really thought you would much more conflicting to sign this paper."
"How so? Are you disappointed?" Artiem said.
Mikuel smiled dubious. "Is it so that you actually want to lend a hand in this matter?"
"I don't think my opinion matters much. I suspect that many of my kinsmen have already signed so it is just a matter of time before my king have signed as well. So I rather skip the trouble and lend you the supplies so that you can leave as soon as possible."
"Ah, there it is. The reason behind your cooperation. Not that it matters much since we now are allies, or at least if your king sings the alliance.
"I am sure that he will. After all we rather fight against brothers we know and kill the strangers that we don't. So make sure to kill these strangers so we can be ill-mannered brothers again.
Mikuel now chuckled genuinely. "You must have a real strange family home in Medirna."
"Strange? No. Brothers in Medirna fight through their whole childhood so that they are taught each other's and their own strengths and weaknesses. We grow strong together and we never turn against each other, for the sake of our family.
"For the sake of the family? Are you implicating that we are like brothers, and... Dormania is the family?"
"Brothers fight for the family. We fight for Dormania."
"For Dormania. Let's have a toast for that." Mikuel said as he stood up with his glass of wine. The others around the table also stood up.
"A toast, for Dormania!" Mikuel said, and they drank from their glasses.
When the toast was finished, the participants bowed to each other and began to leave the room. Mikuel turned once again towards Artiem.
"If this is the last time I see you, I would like to say goodbye. Good bye, Artiem." Mikeul bowed slightly.
Artiem also bowed a little. "Good bye, Mikuel."
Mikuel nodded and followed his officers as they walked out of the room.
Artiem walked out on the balcony and watched over Kiserova. One officer followed him.
"Brothers and family. Did he really believe that?"
Artiem looked down at the officer.
"I did not lie. I never lie about my family."
The officer took a step to the side.
"Excuse me general, but you have never spoken about your family before."
"I only speak about my family with those that I respect..." Mikuel stood silent for a moment. "Now stop asking questions about my family."
"Forgive me general. Are we really intending to supply them, to support Gwendolyn?
"Yes we are. That is the least we can do as they have just opened the doors for us. Our king will soon send him south to Gwendolyn's capital, Grailine, together with a company of dragons. This will hopefully end peacefully. Leave me, Officer. I want to stand here alone and think for a minute."
The officer bowed and returned inside.
Artiem turned back and looked at the city. "As an honor for Mikuel, I will send a rider of my own." He thought.
Lore update
General Mikuel has left Kiserova with his army but a significant force of Gwendolyn still remains as well as the hosts and a bunch of officers.
The match between Akuma and Jelene will happen soon, probably tomorrow.
Brynn touched down in front of the house. She eyed it critically for a second before knocking. “Hello, um…Squrturgle? Do you have a moment?”
A tall, thin man opened the door. He looked at Brynn for a moment before smiling widely. "Brynn! We-self am so happy to be seeings you!" He beckoned the angel inside.
"Um," Brynn said, lost for words. She looked the man up and down, noticing the broken knees and hand and piecemeal feet. She blinked. This was...new.
"Nice place," the angel said as she stepped inside. "Did you always have it?"
"Well," the man said, "we has just come into possession of it, as well as a newness body. Do you like?"
Brynn shrugged. "It's not exactly in great condition."
The man chuckled. It sat down on a chair and beckoned for Brynn to sit across from it. "Is working perfectiously for we-self's purposes. Besides, we-self can plus-time consume a new one."
"Right," Brynn said slowly as she sat. "Speaking of which, it's a pity the tournament heads had you change sides. I'd have liked to have you as an ally."
"Who is says we are un-allies?" the man said. "We-self am not fighting you. Yet." Its eyes slid blankly over Brynn, a single green tear leaking from one. The angel felt a chill run down her spine. It felt like the slime was sizing her up to eat.
"I'm looking forward to the day we do," Brynn said, somewhat untruthfully. "Until then, I hope we can be allies. Goodness knows we need allies, what with the Medirnian army marching in, Gwendolyn having an alliance of kingdoms declaring war on it, and rumors of Moktaractus."
"Armies is no-such problem," the man said confidently. "We-self will consuming all who face them. But...Moktaractus?" As Brynn explained, the slime's body nodded. Its face never really lost the cheerful, almost hungry look it had during their previous conversation.
"Is all-good," the man said after Brynn finished. "Prophecy is still un-prophecy, no? Brynn is un-worrying about it. Besides, prophecies slurpify belief into a following. Un-following, un-prophecy." It smiled at Brynn.
The angel smiled. "I guess." She stood. "Well, I have another thing I need to get to. Try not get that, uh...new body of yours too broken."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks to @Temurzoa for letting me use Squrturgle! Let me know if there's anything you want me to change about how I portray them.
Archbishop Cain led Niran through the bleak passages, its walls twisting and turning as he marched away from the mess hall. Niran could not help but be pulled along. She noticed that Cain’s frail appearance hid his true strength, for she could not slip from his grip. At least, not without drawing attention to herself.
As the two passed Relvas’ workshop, Niran noticed something odd about the corpse inside. The body was anything but motionless, as it violently shook against chains that she didn’t see before, all the while angrily moaning. Niran tried to get a better look of the room, but was quickly tugged away by Cain. Eventually, they arrived at Niran’s room. Cain opened the door and threw Niran inside, then glared at Niran as she slowly picked herself up from the ground.
“While I discipline Relvas for his failure, you will study this,“ Cain commanded, handing Niran a giant tome bound in leather. “I will return in a few hours.” Turning around, he began to exit Niran’s room.
Niran panicked. “But I don’t know how to—” Niran was interrupted as Cain slammed the door shut and locked it. “Read…”
Sulking to her desk, Niran opened the grimoire to pages upon pages of incomprehensible symbols. No matter how many pages she turned, Niran was no less lost in the sea of jargon in front of her. After five minutes of futile perusing, Niran slammed the book shut in frustration, vying instead to look out the open, yet barred window. She gazed upon the busy street below her, watching as the crowds of citizens went about their day while urchins wove through them, snatching valuables from any easy prey they found. Niran yearned to be free like the urchins below her—Sure, she was given warmth and shelter, but she was in a cage nonetheless. Yet the feeling of despair far outweighed any desire for liberty. With a deep sigh, Niran turned away from the window and back to the book, only to be met with an unexpected face in front of her.
“Heya!” A bright and cheery voice said. Niran jumped out of her seat in surprise and fell on her butt. A young girl, with brown hair and a rosy complexion covered in dirt, sat on top Niran’s desk, her cloak covering the book. Her face beamed with a wide smile, much unlike Niran’s bitter frown. Something was familiar about the girl, as though Niran had seen her somewhere before.
Could it be the girl I saw in my nightmare? Niran pondered as she stared in awe at her new guest. The girl stared back at Niran, her smile slowly morphing into a look of concern.
“Uh, hello? Earth to… whoever you are!” The girl said impatiently, snapping her fingers in front of Niran’s face. Niran regained focus, yet was utterly baffled by the events that transpired.
“Wha-H-h-how, how did you get h-here?” Niran asked in befuddlement.
“That’s a silly question! I just snuck in!” The girl responded confidently. Niran was even more confused.
“Tha—That makes LESS sense!”
“It’s simple, really! They’re so focused on making sure you don’t get out, they weren’t paying so much attention to keep peeps like me out! Besides,” The girl said casually, pulling out a small amulet with a symbol of an eye carved into it. “I may have nabbed a poor fellow’s pretty bauble to get in. It seems to act kinda like identification. See?” She held up the necklace to Niran’s face, giving her a closer look. Upon a more detailed inspection, Niran noticed a trace of abyssal magic emanating from the amulet. Surprisingly, the dark tendrils of the magic did not dig into the girl’s skin, as though it was uninterested in corrupting her.
“Who are you?” Niran asked.
“Call me…” The girl hesitated for a moment. “...Bernadette.”
“Okay…” Niran said, uncertain of how to take Bernadette’s response. “Why did you come here? Surely you can’t just be risking your life just to see me…”
“Umm, actually, that is exactly why I came here,” Bernadette answered. “I mean, you seemed to be rather lonely up here...”
“...You know what? Fine. It doesn’t matter how you got here. How are you gonna get out? Like you said, they’re putting more efforts to prevent escape, which now includes you as well.” Niran said bitterly. The last thing she wanted was to get in more trouble due to a random foolish urchin.
“Aww, man! We’ve barely met for a minute and you’re already giving me that attitude? Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair soon enough. For now, why don’t we try to turn that frown of yours upside down?” Bernadette went to reach for Niran’s face, but she was pushed away by Niran.
“No thanks. There’s not much that you can do anyway. What’s the point in even try—Do you hear that?” Footsteps echoed through the hallway outside Niran’s room, quickly growing louder and louder as the source got closer to the door. While Niran was frightened about what would happen to her and the newcomer, Bernadette simply shrugged.
“Eh, looks like my time’s up. Toodles!” Bernadette said, nonchalantly walking towards the window. However, she stopped mid stride and turned to face Niran once more. “Oh! I almost forgot! Here, catch!” Bernadette tossed a small bracelet to Niran, who fumbled as she tried to catch the slippery thing. Looking down, Niran noticed that the item in her hand wasn’t just any ordinary bracelet, but the one from her old burrow. It was a faded teal with signs of fraying strings, just as she remembered it. Whoever this Bernadette was, she wasn’t just some random urchin.
“T-t-thank you, Berna—huh?!” Niran looked up to thank Bernadette, only to notice she disappeared. Were it not for the bracelet in Niran’s hand, it would’ve been as though Bernadette was never there in the first place. Not soon after, Niran heard her door swing open. She spun around to face Relvas, hiding the bracelet behind her back.
“I’ve been forced to check on you, per the Archbishop’s orders,” Relvas glumly stated. “Has everything been okay?”
“YesyeseverythingisfineIhavebeenmakingalotofprogressthroughthebook!” Niran responded at lightning speed, a fake smile plastered on her face. Relvas gave her a simple yet inquisitive look.
“You’re lying, aren’t you?”
Niran grimaced. “...Yes… But you have to understand! I don’t know how to—I have no clue—I can’t—I can’t—”
“You can’t read?” Relvas finished Niran’s sentence.
“Y-y-yes!” Niran stuttered. The despair that had been lifted by Bernadette’s presence weighed down upon her again. “Now you just see me as useless, don’t you…” She said somberly, patiently awaiting for her punishment, whatever that would be. Yet instead of anger or condescension, Relvas’ eyes glinted with concern and caring.
“I… I could teach you how to read.”
“Is that what your master told you to do if I couldn’t?”
“N-no! The Archbishop… He doesn’t care if you haven’t learned how to do what he wants you to do. He just punishes you until you get it right,” Relvas said. “I don’t want you to have to experience that for yourself. Please, just let me help you.”
“But, if you help me learn to read, won’t you get in trouble for ‘interfering’ with my studying?”
“It’s better if I get in trouble than if you do. You are still young, and have already suffered enough.”
“Okay, then…” Niran sighed. She could see in Relvas’ face a strong sense of determination, and knew that it would be impossible to convince him to not help her. Resignedly, Niran sat back down at her desk, and, with the help of Relvas at her side, began to carefully read through the entire grimoire for the rest of the day.
(To be continued)
She had fought briefly in the Kami War, yes, but that was different. Their enemies were kami, magical and mysterious, unorganized and impossibly powerful. They had to rely on speed and angle of attack to win any major victories. Akuma knew that true war was different. She had read about it in her books. True war had little glory, and even less survival. It was endless waiting, hard work, death and slaughter. Friends, officers, family members. And yet these wars she read about simply had not ended. They dragged on for months, years, decades, constant death, all for what? Land? Resources?
Akuma shuddered thinking of the lives thrown away. When she had fought in the Kami War, it was mostly a fight for survival. To keep the kami at bay and defend Eiganjo castle. The only offense launched in her time was a massive failure.
Would Akuma join in if war broke out? Did she owe loyalty to either side? She would fight to protect the innocent if it was necessary, she decided. She would fight to protect her friends. Nilani. Efilia. Barrett. And first and foremost, she would fight for honor. Then, once she achieved it, she could-
Akuma's train of thought cut off. What would she do? As far as she knew, getting back to Kamigawa was impossible. And no one here knew of her previous dishonorable acts. But somehow, she still felt motivated. Somewhere deep within her, was the drive to improve. If she could't prove her honor to anyone else, She'd prove it to herself, god damn it! She was in control now! She could go with her life anywhere she wanted. She wouldn't have to serve a lord-
Her train of thought cut off again. Without a lord to serve, was she still a samurai? Tradition would say no, but Akuma was determined not to let that stop her. She knew she was more of a samurai than most of her old classmates could ever be. The only one she'd serve was herself!
Akuma sat up in bed, and threw off her duvet. With the grace that comes with many nights of practice, she swung herself off the windowsill and up onto the roof.
"My name is Fumeiyona Akuma!" she shouted into the night. "I am the pride of Takenuma, slayer of kami, huntress at Ganzan pass! I am the wielder of Naku Tsuki and Żyletka! The Cunning Devil of the Tournament! Friend to Nilani and Efilia and protege of Barrett! I am the honor-bound samurai, and I strive for improvement! And most of all, I am my own master!"
Her words may not have been heard by anyone, but saying them out loud was very cathartic, and as the rush wore off, Akuma looked up at the moon. It was full and bright, the sky around it filled with stars. She reached a hand out, as if to slowly caress the moon, and whispered something to herself. She lowered herself to the roof and laid down. Tonight, she decided, she would watch the stars.
"Thousandfold days very much perhaps" Tullus gargles. "Weself once ate everything. Cyclical solar cycles weren't. Nope. No more stars except for the corpses in our big biggest belly."
"Strange times are coming, mister" growls the orc. She is shaped like a brick wall, a mane of greasy blond hair spilling down her massive shoulders. "Stranger than you perhaps. They say the army will set the clouds themselves on fire. Not everyone is as strong as me. So many people I have never met and never hated and never loved will perish."
"They say a million of Kiserovan citizens will be killed. Do you even know how big that number is? I can't even count past a hundred. I don't think we are supposed to understand numbers past a hundred. It's simply too big for us. And a hundred hundred hundred people? Our leaders certainly don't understand that."
"Asmira. Asmira Gollug's-spawn." She pauses. "It's a beautiful name. My family is not known for beauty, but my mother insisted. I think it's because she knew I will do beautiful things."
Though Tullus is very heavy, he jumps over the counter with ease and grabs Asmira's wrist. Asmira screeches, twisting out of Tullus's grip and kicking his legs out from underneath him. Tullus tries to drag Asmira down with him, but she smashes his head away with her knee. Taking advantage of the dazed Tullus, Asmira pins his head against the counter with her knee. She reaches for an iron spike.
Between Asmira's knee and the granite counter, something in Tullus's head cracks. He shoves Asmira's leg and the off-balance orc slams to the floor. She scrambles away, spike in hand, and watches in horror as the broken man pulls himself to his feet. Something green is all over his face.
Asmira feints to the right, and as Tullus lurches over to meet her blow she lunges to the left and tears open his neck with the spike. Without missing a beat, Asmira tackles Tullus to the ground and stomps on his great belly. Green slime gushes out of his tattered neck with each crushing blow, pooling on the wooden floor.
Then, like a cresting wave, the ooze crashes into Asmira, knocking her aside. Asmira flails to regain her footing, but the Squrturglus wriggles on top of her, pinning her, flooding into her open mouth and nostrils and ears. Slowly the ooze constricts Asmira, squeezing the air out of her lungs one bubble at a time. Her lips move soundlessly, like a fish out of water.
The town militia found Tullus the next morning. A warrant was immediately announced for the dangerous firebrand Asmira Gollug's-spawn.
"Such power. Would you lend it to me, warrior of Kamigawa?"
The moon was shining, bright of white silver light. Such a otherwise dark night.
Nadja, the ruby of Moltava wore a ruby red dress with golden gloves. She smirked towards the contestants, the nobles, the soldiers and the others who have dared to come out from the city this night. She smiled specially at Daniel who wore his sapphire dress and his emerald covered sword, a ceremonial weapon not fit for battle. He took stand beside Nadja, facing the audience. Most were there but not everyone. Neither Mikuel nor Artiem had appeared. Not even Vallerielle had showed up.
"War has come, but we do not welcome it. War has come to make misery of the lives of many and make the few prosper. We shall not allow it. We shall not suffer the flames of war, we shall embrace the blood of peace. A blood we must pay through honor and selflessness. We shall not let the many fight so the few may live, we shall let the few fight so the many may live!"
"Are you a monster?-"
Akuma drew her sword and took her position at the edge of the forest.
Two, they were. Two samurai, two warriors from a distant land. After this night that will be long, only one will remain. Only one may bring honor back home. Only one shall breath the air of victory! Only one! Let us find out who that will be.
Will it be Akuma, pride of Takenuma?
Will it be Jelene, the renegade bushi?
Will they both live to see the morning light? Will they both face death tonight?
"-or are you a slave?"
Jelene went down on her knees as she drew both of her swords. She stood up with the swords resting in her hands.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let the ninth match of the tournament begin!"
@Usaername vs @Fallen_Lord_Vulganos
The night would indeed be long.
The wind was howling through the treetops as Akuma made her path through the woods. Jele leaned with her back against a tree from high above, waiting. As Akuma passed beneath her, Jelene dropped down. She descended quickly with her demonic blade in her left hand pointing towards her target while the angel blade she held ready for a counterattack in her right. Akuma would not easily be take by surprise, specially when the wind seemed to be on her side. She took a step back and drew her sword with an upswing.
It was a difficult maneuver Jelene had to do but she succeed. Just lowered her angelic blade and pushed Akuma's sword over her head, forcing her out of stance. Jelene landed and directly pushed herself forward with the demonic blade at an angle and the angelic blade to her side. Akuma, still uncovered from the push back, fell down on her knees and blocked the first blade as she moved the hilt of her sword to the side.
Then came the second blade, less than a tenth of a second after the first. Akuma stepped to the side but Jelene followed her. The angelic blade met Akuma's side. Jelene withdrew and the blade dug into Akuma's cloth and flesh so that blood was splattered. Jelene took a step back, smiling as Akuma feel down onto her knees with one hand over her bleeding wound. Akuma was taking several quick breaths as she tightened her robe to hinder the bleeding, even if by just a little. She was cold sweating and Jelene saw it.
Jelene stepped forward to finish Akuma off. Akuma took a defensive stance with her blade perpendicular towards Jelene's attack. Jelene struck with the demonic blade towards Akuma who just as expected, parried the attack to her side. Jelene thrust the angelic blade straight into Akuma's breast.
Akuma dropped her sword. She lost her breath and she began to cough blood. She fell forward, almost over Jelene. She grabbed Jelene's right arm as to not fall. Jelene smirked as she watch Akuma's eyes lose their color.
"Such pity, I thou..."
An intense pain beyond almost anything she ever felt before, ran through her arm. Jelene almost screamed as she withdrew the blade from Akuma's breast and tried to withdraw her right hand. The demonic blade fell to the ground followed by something else. Jelene fell back. She watched in horror at what had been her left hand, and now was just a blood covered stump. She watched Akuma fall to the ground, coughing up even more blood. In her hand she held a blood covered dagger. She looked at Jelene with red-blooded eyes, filled with hatred. Jelene decided to retreat for the moment to lick her wounds. Hopefully Akuma would die by her wounds, a slow and miserable death.
To be continued
Also: good luck duel wielding now! aha!
At the end of the battle, however, Gorchi felt her face move in a way she'd almost forgotten: a smile. Well, more of a smirk, really. As Jelene retreated from Akuma's body, Gorchi whispered to no one,
"Heh. I'm calling her Stumpy from now on."
"Cmon Akuma! Fight!” Nilani said to herself.
Akuma was now lying on the ground, bleeding profusely. Nilani wanted to help.
“If she bleeds for any longer, she’ll end up losing too much blood. I can help. Can I help?”
Nilani closed her eyes and thought. In a few minutes, she came up with an idea.
“Are we allowed to interfere with the match like that? I could try... I guess...”
Nilani waved her hand twice, creating an invocation that was half her height.
“Go!” Nilani whispered to the invocation, “Find Akuma if you can...”
Nilani just hope it would work. Chances were, it wouldn’t, but Nilani had hope. She knew Akuma was strong.
“We can’t end our time together now, Akuma. Fight for me...for us! I believe in you...”
Fire... If only I could make fire. I could cauterize the wound... stop the bleeding.
Akuma was somewhat satisfied with her plan of keeping Żyletka a secret. She had gotten hurt, and admittedly, badly, but Jelene would never be able to keep up with her with only one hand. Akuma cut another strip from her sleeve and tied it around the wound in her chest. As she tied the makeshift bandage off, she gasped from the pain, but the inhalation of breath caused only more pain. She tried to breathe, and felt lightheaded.
Crap! Probably a punctured lung. That'd be a problem.
Akuma used another strip of sleeve to adress the less severe wound on her side, before slowly standing up. She picked up Naku Tsuki and sheathed it. She checked herself over for any other inuries. It seemed like her biggest issue was her chest wound, but other than that, she could still fight, if she could push through the pain.
I wonder how Nilani's doing. I hope she's not too worried...
("Akuma would not easily be take by surprise, specially when the wind seemed to be on her side." Is that a sneaky Ghost of Tsushima reference there Jonte?)
"Move, Akuma," she muttered. "You need to move."
She remembered the forest from her fight there. It was a maze of trees and underbrush, and taking a long time to look for Jelene wouldn't help Akuma's condition at all, especially on foot. If nothing else, she wanted recompense for the murder of an angel and the use of her essence as a weapon.
"Come on," she growled as Akuma bandaged some of her wounds. "You can do it. Fight. You need to fight."
"Are you a monster or are you a slave?"
"It is so dark. I am so cold."
Akuma stumbled forward. She had to find a way to make fire. She had to find clean water. She had to survive. It was so dark that she could barely see the trees that were just in front of her. The air was so cold, it felt as if nails of ice were scathing her skin bleeding. She fell onto a log and she vomit a mix of blood and stomach acid. She held tightly onto the log as her body was shaking uncontrollably. She tried to gather her strength for what must have been minutes. Then when she finally felt a tiny amount of energy within her, she forced her way up onto her legs. She opened her eyes but she could not see any trees or even the grass on the ground.
Her feet and were completely numb from the cold so she could not feel the grass or the leaves. She moved forward. She had to survive. Suddenly, someone grabbed her. She could not see the person. She moved her hands over him but she could not feel his skin or his warmth, she could barely feel anything. She waited for him to say something, but he never did. Why was he so silent? Why did he stand so still? She then soon realized that it was not a person but a tree. She could see anything, she could barely feel anything but the cold. She lost the strength in her legs and fell to the ground. She starred up into the sky. Something round was shining up there. Something that she could see. The moon with its silver light was as clear as it had ever been. It almost felt comforting as she lied there, waiting to die.
"You will bleed all the same. -"
------------------------------------------
Jelene slowly woke up, strapped onto the branch high up in a tree. Her headache was gone as well as the painful coldness. She sat up and watched her left arm. She took off the bandage and before she put on the new one, she examined the wound. The infection or poison seemed to have been prevented, better than expected. Also the phantom pain was gone. She still had phantom twitches and irritations from where her hand had been.
She put on the new bandage and made sure that it would not loosen up by itself. Jelene looked around her, the tree tops were not as dark anymore and up in the sky, the moon was shining. "Akuma must have died by now unless she somehow managed to recover."
She thought. She loosened the rope which prevented her from falling down so that she could take off and search for Akuma.
From tree to tree, from branch to branch she jumped. Through the dark forest in the light from the moon she made her way back towards Akuma. She hoped that Akuma would still be alive so that she could end her life herself. She hoped that she had suffered. She could have surrendered. She could have sacrificed her honor and pride but she decided to take Jelenes hand instead. She deserves death and if she had not received it yet, she soon would. Jelene appeared where she and Akuma and fought against each other. The grass and the dirt was covered in stains of blood. In the middle of it all lied a grey, dead hand and a her sword. She thought for a moment. She held her hand over the angelic sword's hilt, then she took off after the obvious trail that Akuma had left behind.
She could almost taste the smell of fresh blood in the air. She moved from tree to tree towards the sound from the stream. She stopped as looked. At the shore of the water, Akuma was washing her blood covered hands in the water. As she finished, she shook her hands and walked away. Akuma did not seem to be aware of Jelene but if she was, Jelene would not be successful with the same attack she had initiated the earlier fight with. She had no weapon for a counter attack. Jelene jumped down, a safe distance behind Akuma. Akuma stopped walking. Jelene noticed that Akuma's hands were drenched in blood. She turned around. If she hadn't stood there, clearly alive, Jelene would have thought her to be dead. Her face was grey and her lips were dark blue as on a corpse. Her eyes were lifeless . Her hair was no longer silver white but grey as ash.
She looked like a risen undead but she felt very different. Akuma drew her sword, revealing its blood covered edge. Then she moved forward do attack.
"But don't fear your own blood -"
-----------------------------
Akuma felt an intense burning pain attack her wounds. She woke up screaming. The pain was gone as quickly as it had appeared. She moved her hand over her wounds. "Had they stopped bleeding? How?" She looked around to see if anyone had helped her but no one was there but her. It took a couple of seconds for her to realize that she could see again, if though the night was still unusually dark. She squeezed her arm to see if she was dreaming but she did not seem to be. She did not feel good but neither did she feel dying or even very bad anymore. Maybe she had just panicked and blacked out due to it. She decided to not question her fortune and instead she continued the path to find water as she was still thirsty.
It did not take very long before she could hear the first sound of a stream further ahead. She half-ran the last bit until she came to the edge of the stream. She fell onto her knees and began showing the cold water onto her face. She used the water to clean her wounds, then she drank so fast that her head began to hurt. She paused for a bit to let her head recover from the sudden freeze. The wind was howling through the tree tops.
Of course. She proceeded to clean her hands as the leaves were raffling in the trees. As the wind slowed down, she stood up and began to walk away. When she heard the thud, she turned around. What she saw was not what she had expected. It was indeed Jelene, now one-armed. Smoke, red of blood was leaving her legs and her left arm. Her blade was split into two, the ordinary blade and one made of what looked like blood, floating in the air. Her eyes were even darker than before. Akuma would not be threatened by her. She had been given a new chance for a reason, she would not waste that on fear. She drew her sword and stepped forward towards Jelene.
"Embrace it. For you are your blood."
---------------------------
To be continued.
So tomorrow I will probably finish this match and do the 10th match.
Usaername I actually haven't played Ghost of Tsushima yet so I did not even know about that reference.
Please Akuma! Fight! You're better than Jelene! You have honor and courage! You...you have passion! Don't give up Akuma.
Nilani opened her palm. Golden light started to swirl around her fingertips.
"I should be able to view a part of the forest using my invocation, as long as it hasn't been destroyed."
The swirling golden lights in Nilani's palm slowly rearranged themselves to form a scene: Nilani could see a path on the forest. There was a trail of something on the ground, but Nilani couldn't tell easily due to the fact that everything in her palm was gold colored.
"Go closer, but stay out of sight," Nilani whispered.
The invocation in the forest slowly got closer. Nilani could see it now- blood.
Akuma...
" A night so dark and cold, only the moon brings a glimpse of a tomorrow. "
Jelene raised her left arm to rest her sword upon. She examined the terrifying looking Akuma. If she truly was undead now, who or what had risen her? It was clearly not ordinary necromancy magic, it was something stronger.
Akuma dashed forward with incredible speed and with her moment, she swung her whole body and the sword towards Jelene. Jelene ducked beneath the blade but Akuma had such momentum that she made a complete turnaround with the blade now following low. Jelene just managed to jump over the approaching blade, and in the air she swung her blade against Akuma and then jumped back to a safe distance.
---
Akuma covered the wound on her leg. It was not much more than a scratch but enough to bleed. She looked at Jelene who now stood upon a rock. Her menacingly appearance did not deceive. The blood smoke and the fleeting blood blade twirled around the angelic sword. Akuma showed teeth but Jelene stood emotionless, barely staring back at her. Akuma wiped her hand on her robe and dashed forward once again but this time Jelene jumped over her. Akuma turned around but the blood blade struck her once again, now in the left shoulder. In an intense struggle, Akuma swung the blade to her left and just managed to cut a wound into Jelene's right leg.
---
Jelen landed on all three and she dropped the angelic blade. She did not take time to recover her strength as by pure adrenaline she endured the pain and jumped to the blade, just in time to turn around and block Akuma's strike. Blood from the soaked blade was dripping down on her. Akuma drew back her sword and thrust in into the ground as Jelene rolled to the side. Jelene screamed with tears pouring down her eyes as she defied the pain and stood up. Akuma had to die, now.
---
Jelene's screech and burning eyes gave Akuma cold skin. The blood blade twirled around her wounded leg, sipping blood from the wound so it grew in length. Akuma felt herself growing weaker while Jelene seemed to not stop for anything. If she really could, Jelene had to die soon. Akuma endured the pain to raise her sword as Jelene attacked.
---
She swung her bleed with furious speed to get through her defense but any new wound she made did barely anything to stop her.
---
So many wounds, so many to endure. She just wanted to lie down but that would mean certain death.
---
Her blade was blocked but she swung it down towards her hands.
---
She kicked her legs to get out of her attack and attempt a counterattack.
---
They failed.
---
She was collapsing inside but she continued to fight.
---
Another strike, another swing. She ducked, she blocked, she avoided them but soon she would not be able to anymore.
---
She blocked he attack and forced her sword into the ground.
---
She hit her in the head with the hilt. As she was staggered, she swung the sword upwards.
---
All she could see was red, and then the sword pierced her chest, her heart. She could not move her arms, legs or anything. Her body refused to do anything, as if it wanted to die. She fell back and landed in a small pool of water that soon turned red. She almost felt relaxed, like going to sleep after an endless day. She closed her eyes and embraced the night.
---
She stumbled towards the water. Her body was quickly giving up. She lost control over her arms, her legs, her body. She fell half into the water so that it was painted with her blood. She let her face down into the red water. She did not care. She was so exhausted. She raised her head and looked into the surface. Black and yellow eyes looked back at her. She closed her eyes and shook her head. When she look again, the eyes were hers again. She rolled back up to dry land. She was shaking uncontrollably as years were pouring down her face. She was more exhausted than she ever thought possible. The moon was shining down at her, reminding her that she could wake up tomorrow. So she fell asleep.
"Death is a luxury that not all monsters can afford, and a right a slave does not have until given to her."
She woke up to the bright light of the sun, burning her eyes as she tried to open them. "Aghh!"
"Careful careful." A woman said.
"What happened?" She asked.
"You survived, Akuma" Said the woman.
Akuma slowly opened her eyes and saw Nilani. She was treating her broken body.
"Careful I said." Akuma moved her head without listening. She looked at the blood filled pool. Naku Tsuki was stuck in the mud where Jelene's body had fallen.
"Where is her body?" Akuma asked.
"I don't know. There was no one here but you when I got here." Nilani said.
Akuma turned back and let the sun warm her face. She had survived the night.
In a courtyard within the city, was the only one in the tournament who had even the smallest understanding of what had happened in the forest. On a bench she sat playing on her violin.
@Usaername
Congratulations!
Akuma has survived the night and thus she wins the 9th match.
She have made it to the semi finals.
You may now make a choice.
- increase Akuma's mana cost to 5
- add a new signature or companion card.
You may change the cards you already have as long as they follow the restriction put on them by the choices you've made.
I wish you good fortune in the continuation of the tournament.
"A slave is not given death so easily. Are you a slave, Jelene?"
@Fallen_Lord_Vulganos
If one must always win, one must always lose.
It was by card that Jelene lost today.
A clever idea to change her art but sadly it was not enough to bring victory.
It has been very giving to have Jelene fight in the tournament but it does not have to be over, even if she would have died.
She made many things and some may have had consequences after she is gone.
You may write what those effects and consequences are and how they affect the tournament and the game.
Otherwise I hope that you want to stay to continue participate in the game, even if so only to read. The more the merrier.
Thank you!
(Btw, the link embedded in Akuma’s card goes to a card called “Akuma, the Monster” made by @Iron_Onion two days ago, not Usaername’s original card.)
I’ll write a story part soon following up the events of the battle.