The Trials of a Dra'sin

[Mesiphidon]

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Mesiphidon sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Esarhaddon across the pavilion. It had been quite a long time since he had held a coming of age for one of their kind. It was a time honored and revered facet of every Dra'sin born to the Fir'an. A time of revelry, of pride, of honor, of joy, and of war. A welcoming of one to his true calling, and a day of blood. The Fir'an were warriors after all, to their core they were the entities of war and destruction. The Emperor was nervous, if such could be a thing for today was hosted in honor of his son. Sune'ere long since lost to him, and perhaps overdue for his baptism of blood. It would be a rough and tumble next few days for the boy. As was tradition Mesiphidon had prepared an offering for Sune, a tribute, and given the stories of Sune'ere being quite the philanderer and skirt chaser the Emperor had taken it upon himself to procure ten of the finest women for his son. Many were giddy and joyful at the prospect of spending the nights to come with a Celesin prince. Mesiphidon made sure not to glance towards the small gathering of scantily clad women, knowing his beloved wife would only stare in scorn.

Tables as far as the eye could see were layered with food and drink of every variety, fanning out from the heart of Lu'rae. In the center of the plaza where Mesiphidon and Esarhaddon had made their vows, floated a large disc. A ring upon which Sune would endure his trials for all to see. Massive shadows stretched across the plaza, three in total. But from what was unknown as the large objects greater then the size of buildings that floated above were obscured by what seemed a hazy fog. For now the central plaza was bare except for the staff, the Emperor and Empress. In due time people would begin to trickle in and join the festivities, Fir'an Sanctus Sanguis were a rare occurrence within the Imperium and all but the holiest of holidays for the citizens of Celesin. Shaking his head as he ensured everything was in order Mesiphidon finally turned returning to the dias upon which seven chairs were held. Two almost throne like were for the Emperor and Empress, and two adjacent to those were for the four Primoris. With the final seat facing the six meant for Sune'ere. He would take his pick after all of those before him, that he would choose to engage in the gauntlet.

Before sitting he settled the black cloak behind him in the padded chair and sat. Placing a hand over Esarhaddon's before nodding to the man in black and silver livery, embroidered with the lion head of Celesin. Given the nod the man ran raised his hand firing a small device into the air. The trail of fire shot skywards before exploding in a cacophony of fanfare and explosions of light that made fireworks seem a pale comparison. Signaling the beginning of the festivities and for those at the edges of the plaza and beyond to begin letting those who wished to attend within.

[Daul]

Daul knew an intentional telegraph when she saw one. Her brother wasn’t naive enough to think flying at her with an elbow would go well and thus it was obvious— he was testing her. She’d been put through many similar scenarios by opponents who truly hadn't the faintest clue how to handle her or what to expect. Many assumed her style would be not unlike Mesiphidon’s.

Smart of him, but if he wanted to see what she was about he was going to have to be a touch more clever about gleaning it out of her. The Potentiae remained loose in stance; watching him until nearly the last moment before she moved— twice.

Sune’ere’s testing blow would have seemed momentarily as if she’d intended let it land; and yet would not meet a wall of solid flesh. Daul allowed him into her immediate vicinity in that precious, almost infinitely small amount of time and took to the right where his tucked in defense would not be of much use due to his pivoting as she used her avant-garde method of the cascade combined with extending her core to operate as two completely separate figures. She’d come a long way since only being able to use the skill for one or two limbs at a time; her corporeal body delivering the right horizontal blow to his ribs with strength Sune had likely not experienced yet. It would shatter ribs and traumatize organs with concussive force; sending the meats careening around the carriage with enough backlash that it would have potentially sent his body careening away from her at an acute angle from his original path until he slammed into the ring’s containment field.

However, he would not make it far as following the physical form, the fore-vision of pure Magi in a rare semi-visible state which mimicked her image had seized him by the back of his back of his skull and left forearm while bringing his body down with enough torque to jerk his limbs in unnatural directions as the Magi form brought his sternum down viciously onto her right prone knee. Daul’s physical form was only capable of immense speed in short bursts due to the nature of her skillset and elemental predisposition; but it made fighting her in close quarters extremely dangerous. And he’d run to her.

Some of those in the crowd were awestruck; confused at what they were seeing. The woman was tangled around him; her body cascade form aiming to shred his ability to defensively react and bringing him to her while seemingly having the capability of effecting that which was corporal. The Emperor had made it clear that they were not to hold back on their younger sibling as it would render the spirit of the tradition shallow and moot. But Sune’ere was a Dra’sin in the end and while her attacks would break and rend, he was no mere human and she knew he would get up.

Daul would be waiting; her magi limbs and effigy stepping ahead of her physical form while still having Sune’ere in her secondary grip and flinging him mercilessly in the opposite direction. He would only just not understand a sample of her strength and the Potentiae had not yet built up her full brutish capabilities. As she aimed to make him travel, Daul took the time to stand again and fall into a lower stance; her body leaving the impression that she was one again. But her father and his wife would be the long figures able to see see that the magi was vibrating around her form and plainly visible to them; erratic but ultimately contained with control she’d had yet to demonstrate for either one of them. The girl was making serious progress.

[Sune]

Sune'ere believed he had the upper hand on Daul as far as speed was concerned. Using his magics to help him come close to Caden's own speed he had figured such a reckless maneuver would be successful. As she moved he had already begun tucking his legs back to powerslide and dodge her incoming attack from whatever angle. However she could move quicker than he could in a shorter burst. To the naked eye it would hardly make a difference, but there in the arena, where microseconds were measured instead of whole seconds, her speed had momentarily surpassed his own. Just enough to make his planned dodge obsolete. With his own Body Cascade moving to up his speed, but his intent already clearly made by tucking in his legs, the most he could do was spin his arms to his left by pumping the elbow back and forward with a tilt to his own left. Airborne this would cause him to turn towards Daul and meet her fist head on instead of from the side. He had tried to bring his arms up, only half successfully to lessen the blow. The brunt of it grazing his forearm just enough to lessen the blow from devastating to something that still hurt like a son of a bitch. However he'd of saved his own internal organs the damage at the expense of his left arm. The blunt force trauma of her strike not only left a sizeable bruise upon his arm, but also caused hairline fractures in his already durable anatomy.

This of course sent him fly backwards as she had intended him to, and in line with her shadow so to speak. Sune however had not been dense in his use of his abilities, keeping a minimized Force Projection ready he would sense what he felt as his sisters Core extension suddenly there to do something to him. While against Fenris Sune had kept his extension to an absolute minimum, only utilizing it when absolutely necessary. Here he would have no choice but to really unveil his core to the whole of Celesin, something only the Primoris, his father and his unlucky victim in Nexxian had seen manifested. As Core Extensions were not bound truly by the laws of physics like his body was, they could materialize with a thought to intercept incoming grapple. Two claws moved to intercept in a crisscross at the shadows intended target at the back of his head, magi meeting Magi. The claws coming from the base of his spine and distorting the air around him. His own core extension was nowhere near as refined as his sisters, but on some level the primal nature of it just might come in handy. The only way he could materialize it was simply as claws, two pairs to be precise as his victim in Nexxian had seen. The second pair now launched to grab at the legs of the shadow which had tried to harm him, trying to grab at the materialized legs, hold onto them, and effectively try to pull them apart in opposite directions, if successfully wishboning her force projecting, she may experience pain. Sune had never had his core extensions harmed before, so this would be a first for him.

Landing without his arms being sprawled around and upon his feet in a crouch he would stare at his sister with energy being expended. If he wasn't being attacked he would retract his core, but if her shadow persisted, he would in fact keep them out to defend. By having to defend against two dauls, he was already starting to find his limit, but he couldn't stop there. Heavy breathing was only second nature with this level of physical exertion with no time between to breath. Her speed in close quarters could exceed his own for now, and her power in the close quarters combat was easily above and beyond his own. Without his guns he couldn't keep her at long range like he'd of preferred, so the handling of this situation would need to revolve around keeping her at a specific distance.

Launching himself forward once more, his right arm cocked back it would appear that he was going to try and close the distance once more, looking like he was going for a full power punch right to her face at the angle he would come down at. However Sune would be planning his leap to fall short, but only by roughly ten feet or so. Close enough for his uses, but leaving enough distance between them for him to react. Once landing he would extend his force projection field to the full ten feet he could muster, and immediately lob his first punch towards her who was now just barely within the force projection field. The intended target was her jaw, striking from the side to stun her momentarily while he drew back his left hand and coated it in his core extension. If he could throw just basic punches in his force projection field, then why not core extended strikes as well. Striking at the air with his fist while keeping Daul at a distance he would try to punch her gut from a distance with a core extension strike through his force projection field.

If Daul kept her shadow within herself, his own core extension would strike against hers before hitting her body, but if she hadn't and tried for another assault, Sune would have to extend himself further, not allowing himself such precise control in favor of defending himself from his sisters onslaught. But in that case she would still be taking two or more hits from a distance. Sune would do his best to react and keep her at a distance that favored himself as opposed to her. If she closed the game to him, he would be forced to fend her off, but if she retreated he would be forced to follow. He was banking on her pride and the nature of the fight that she would draw herself in towards him once more. His only real advantage over her at this point was the fact that her pride would force her to fight him as best as she could, that and the fact that his core extension manifested differently from her own. While a second version of herself was terrifying, Sune could manifest four limbs that acted like arms, which gave him only a slightly better offense while he defended himself.

[Jophiel]

Unnoticed, unremarkable, and underestimated. It was a state she’d existed in for longer than she could recall. Being ignorable and slinking among the masses was an ability she’d been bred with, though the tampering done in her youth had only increased her ability for stealth. She was suppressed, purposely so, in order to watch with mild interest these trails that Daul had insisted she attend. She wasn’t… entirely comfortable. Mostly because this was an empire that even her Uncle seemed leery of. Among this space she felt a metaphysical dampening. The lines did not answer her call nor did they sing to her—wildly or otherwise. It felt… unnatural, to someone so deeply connected. Certainly she was not without ability or defense but this particular vulnerability was different. She was metaphorically naked among the clothed and when she sought out cover she only met more unending… emptiness. Deeper darkness, greater void… and entirely disturbing. Secondly, well… from her placement among the crowd even she could pin-point the high-seated visage of Daul’s father. It was difficult to forget him, though that might have been due to his… invasion of her essence so many moons ago. One simply doesn’t forget such an act against them and she felt somewhat insane for putting herself even near this male whose daughter she had stolen.

It wasn’t fear that drove her to mingle among the masses in an attempt to disappear, but caution. This Shuinsai was not stupid. At least, no more than usual. That thought was enough to make her chuckle, just a soft rumble as she drew fingertips among the length of a loose jacket and fiddled with the red scarf about her neck. Daul asking her to be here hadn’t been expected and if the woman had been anyone else Jophiel might have chopped up her appearance to mean some sort of unspoken political statement. Maybe it was merely a display of her possession—for Jophiel had to unfortunately admit that she was Daul’s possession—or maybe the woman had remembered her ‘friendship’ with Sune and wished for her to see his glorious rise to adulthood.

She was unbothered by either concept.

If anything, the battle gave her some insight into Fenris and Sune’s battle behaviors and was an enjoyable way to pass her time. So she stood, in her silence, alone with her thoughts and focused on observing those who fought before her. That is, until it seemed time for another to step into the fighting circle.

Suddenly her relaxed casual stance straightened and fingertips that had been idly rubbing her chest ceased their careless subconscious act. Daul was called to battle and when she rose to attend her duty Jo couldn’t help but hold her breath. Well, this was unexpected, about as unexpected as her tolerated presence. Furthermore, Daul took it upon herself to not just move toward the stage but to remove her outer clothing and head toward her direction.

Ah…

Oh no.

The eager albeit confused citizens were beginning to part and Jophiel only had but a moment to toss a glance to her left and right. The bodies that had once hidden her were making way for Daul and she was heading straight to her. Yet, for what? Here she’d been, attempting a rather satisfying game of ‘inconspicuous’ and now… well now Daul was handing her that sacred bundle of cloak and shirting and speaking unabashedly among the populous.

Jo did not resist the head tilt as she kept the bundle close to her chest. She only waited with quirked brow and patience as the woman leaned over and kissed the corner of her mouth. She had but a moment, but that moment was enough and as Daul began to lean backwards Jophiel would attempt to reach out her hand—fingertips hooked with sharpened nails meant to act as claws—and draw them down across the exposed flesh of her left arm. Would she connect? Would she feel skin spread beneath her touch? The action was swift but the wound superficial, just a silent declaration of her loyalty and possessive aggression as her golden gaze brightened and the storms beyond the expanding pupil said everything that her mouth refused to admit.

“Whatever you need I shall deliver.” As was her role. If Daul needed her there, then she would be there, simple as that. Though once Daul moved away her gaze would dim back to that disinterested pale imitation of the passion she normally carried. She had just wanted… others to know. While Daul went about putting her body on display with that tiny insufficient tank top it was already claimed. Blame her little act on more primal motivations but some darker part certainly enjoyed marking her before she left to dance with her brother.

Now, where should she hide next?

[Daul]

It was fortunate that Sune’ere’s coming of age was occurring now rather than only a few years prior. Control had been a hard goal for Daul; her fully sized core causing the Aberrant to always be held back in her lack of discipline. But being born fully powered and a danger to herself as much as her native empire and the world they had abandoned her on came with unique difficulties that surely would have resulted in her death had Mesiphidon not happened upon her.

Today, and wonderful for all those present, they would not see Daul’s control slip at any point. It was also a blessing for Sune’ere himself as it would surely have presented the danger of him truly losing his life without the chance to survive and prove himself. By no means did she desire to murder her sibling in front of billions, but, neither did she intend to hold back. Walking the razor’s edge between not pulling one’s punches and expecting a Magi neophyte to survive and tipping into her true nature as a berserker.

Immediately after sending her sibling on a journey to the other side of the put with a fracture with the force projection preceding her; Daul used the atmosphere around her as an assistance to speed— accelerating her true form enough to cross the platform in impossibly long leaps. The emperor had obviously had it constructed of a material that could withstand the force of Daul’s preternatural momentum or it would have suffered deep contusions with every step she took while extending her core Magi to encompass the platform in awareness; not superseding his own but blending, in effect.

Sune’ere’s attempt at a violent projected defense against would be met with a much stronger, denser form that would instead be met head on by hers— and locked. As soon as he blocked her attempt for him the priorities of her attack shifted. The second pair Sune’ere extended would not have their chance to seize her and cause Daul the pain he had aimed for— the contact resulting in her much denser core projection to seize his; the arms of the effigy splitting into a quadra, taking his weaker limbs on and becoming a monstrosity that locked them into place if briefly.

It was a distraction— Sune’ere had likely never experienced the experience of his core meeting another, denser one while Daul had on many occasions when training under her father. The initial sensation of the impact was staggering and almost awkward; the following not quite so pleasant as the denser, stronger core projection would begin to fracture the other; unraveling it. Peeling it back. And now, unless Sune retracted his core he would begin to experience the sickening effect.

However, in his favor the attempt to stay out of her immediate vicinity would fall short as Daul used the moment turned against him to bring another onslaught; her attack giving him no quarter to land or stare, though, he could certainly make the smart choice to retract his core just as she did while closing in and spared him any more of that stomach dropping sensation of his projection being overpowered. Daul’s upper body lowered just as she touched down and performed another burst of speed same as before seized the right arm as she closed the distance in her left hand, yanking Sune’ere from his feet with a burst of stored momentum while using the limb slam her brother into the platform with the force of a much higher, deadlier fall. Now, perhaps, the platform might give a touch with concave impact from the force she’d introduced him to it; having to drop down onto a partial left side kneel for an instant with him in hand to complete it. Sune would land the sickening blow per the right shoulder and back. Something would surely crack...again.

Sune’ere had been lucky so far that Daul hadn’t actually enhanced her basic, overwhelming strength through body cascade, though— he was about to. No time was wasted after the move to bring him down and while rising from the partial crouch with a single left quick-step; the right leg would rear back to effectively punt him back across the pit. This time, however, she followed whilst not only using core magi to push her speed toward him but developing a strange, shimmering texture over her body. Subtle, but certainly visible— Daul had developed her ‘armor’ of sorts. Not a true and fully controlled Aegis by any means as she was a ways off from such a talent; but a literal mineralized surface enhancement of Wurtzite carbon.

[Sune]

Sune'ere was way out of his league as he was stunned once more by his sisters insane speed and strength. Something like her shouldn't exist his body cried out. She was much too strong, stronger than his last opponent. Stronger than his twin. Or maybe they had all held back against him when they fought him. His own Core Extension was rendered near useless by the density of concentrated Magi clashing with his own stretched thin core extension. It had somehow more mass, more everything then his four primal limbs could muster. He withdrew before the effects could truly seize him and force him to void the contents of his stomach mid combat. With his Force Projection field his sister couldn't theoretically get the drop on him, but once more her speed surprised him. He hardly had the time to think about defending himself let alone react. His instincts however, whether by good breeding or just stupid fucking pride didn't yell at him to run from this titan. They screamed for him to stand and fight.

He wasn't working off of thought at the moment he was yanked back into the air, but pure fighters instinct. he would force the full weight of his Core Extension to manifest from that place where she gripped him from the moment he was lifted til the moment he was slammed into the ground. A singular Limb manifesting with the full density of his core against her. Meaning to maim and destroy utterly the hand that gripped him. Sure the contact was brief, a second at best, but the density of the prodigy's core focused upon a single small bit of flesh. It would rip and tear through nearly anything that got in its way. A small more concentrated bit of power actually made sense instead of extending himself out further.

Then he slammed into the ground and for the briefest second his vision went black, his arm tucked in protectively to his ribs, an audible crack would be heard. Two or three ribs along his right side now had fractured roughly, and his right arm was bent at a terrible angle that implied a luckily for him clean break along the elbow. His body reacted without his mind, curling into a fetal position as moans of absolute agony left him for a brief moment before he was subsequently kicked just as he regained his senses.

He would stop himself from colliding with the shields, by extending his Core through his right arm, the primal claw mimicking how his arm should act, though the limb was broken and nearly useless he could still make due with his Core. Digging the primal claw into the ground he would not only slow his progress but stretch the limb like elastic, once it had met the point where the density of the limb was too thin, he would essentially be snapped back towards his Sister who was now rocketing towards him. As the elastic effect finished he would bend the arm in such a way as to change his body's direction towards his sister, no longer would he be coming at her skull and broken arm first, but instead with his booted feet outwards in a powerful kick, which given his own speed and momentum aided by her punt would actually manage to be faster then how she moved. She would have little to no time to react as she and him closed distances with each other.

His kick aimed at her abdomen, if he struck he would not only be smashing into her with his full body weight and speed, but maybe enough power to stun the Primoris at his sudden use of her power used on him against her. But that wasn't all, his sister could only hope to be so lucky. She had damaged Sune'ere's pride badly. His eye's were all but ablaze with the hoarfrost color his magi manifested as. He was putting everything into this attack. Already she had taught him something very useful, that it wasn't about how many limbs, or how long your core could extend. If you stretched yourself thin, you were just as good as dead. From the bottom of his foot, small maybe even imperceptible he was gathering his Core Magi. If he connected, he would extend it out, all of it that he could muster into a six inch long blade of Core Extended Magi. A dagger point, hardly anything to worry about, except for the fact that with how concentrated that it was, he might just be able to overpower his sister in this one instance.

Six inches of Magi, if she didn't defend herself it would wreak havoc on her innards, it would tear her apart the way they were all tearing him apart. She might be more powerful with her core born at full capacity, but Sune'ere was older, he had been in more life and death scraps that actually tested him. He had been forged in the fires of his fathers curious form of love. When it came down to it, Sune'ere was one thing, a survivor. And while Daul may be holding back, Sune'ere was not. If he killed his sister then so be it. He would survive, at her expense if necessary.

[Daul]

Sune’ere managing to finally draw blood from her hurt, but inwardly there was a touch of pride at her brother finally managing to get somewhat tactical against her. Flesh had split, a tendon had been severed and a violent, red wash had all but exploded from the topside of her arm. The awkward angle of his attack had spared the bone but breaking— but it had scraped the surface beneath the so much gored meat.

It would, unfortunately be the only blood he may well manage to spill. Sune’ere’s timing would not, in fact, beat her to the punch as Daul had already begun to move toward him during the attempt to sling himself back in her direction. He meant to finally bring her the offense— but he would not quite get to the point he desired due to what she had in store.

While not quite as tactically minded as her legendary father due to her youth, Daul was still tactically minded enough to keep more than a few aces up her sleeve. While the use of the Aegis had somewhat drained her, the Potentiae had more than enough juice to extend her core for another surprise— a cruel one, as well— and it would be the Magi effigy from her brutal attack on him that her brother’s extended legs slammed into. However, Daul hadn’t simply extended it to stop him and would be close behind the externalized mirror image which had become an incomprehensible shape immediately after swallowing his impact and using the inevitable stun to her advantage. A swarm of limbs connected in ghostly inelegance to nothing like a body which would make sense to watching eyes seized each of her opponents while taking advantage of the positioning needed for Sune’ere’s hail mary attack and would send his body careening into a forward arc before locking. They only needed an instant to keep him locked in place while the Potentiae’s true form still shimmering with the undisciplined Aegis met his own; the distance between them closed with a thunderclap of seismic energy aided by her core to simulate seismic energy.

Daul’s left elbow was cocked forward for maximum damage as she enhanced the blow; aiming directly for his gut with a blow that would release a shockwave on contact which was possibly strong enough to rattle the entire platform with concussive force along with a deep, ear rattling accoustic effect that might cause those close enough to the platform to be left with ringing ears. Enough that it would actually release heat so much that both figures would be briefly singed after the atmosphere had flash broiled around them. Not quite enough to cause either of them injury.

Booted feet slammed into the platform ; the remnants of the concussive energy rattling the disc and causing more vibrations to stagger through it. Steam roiled from the tall figure; golden eyes smoldering and the beast of a woman seemingly on the brink of losing her well earned control. Her teeth were bared in an ugly display; broad chest heaving in preparation for anything Sune might still be able to offer, though, it was highly likely that her sibling would have hit the disc with enough force to leave a print. Daul was never arrogant enough to underestimate the tenacity of any opponent, however, and she remained in stance while blood poured down her left wrist and forearm at a rate accelerated by adrenaline. It was an ugly wound and red vitae would pool around the boot of her right boot as it was extended. He'd marred more than a few blood vessels.

In a twisted way, the woman did understand that if Sune survived she was teaching him something very worthwhile. Something that might aid him against whomever Sune’ere chose to fight next. It would be one of three figures, after all: Caden, Drustan...or at worst— their father, the emperor Mesiphidon. If her brother survived her, which she believed he would with all of his potential and crafty solutions the damage she had done to him might serve as a primer. For Caden or Drustan, it may bring him closer to being able to keep up with them. For the emperor, he would need it to stay alive.

Would anyone be able to see her mouth something at her brother? Subtle, but only loud enough for his ears to discern if he was still conscious. And it was not a dare or a challenge for all of her aggression— it was encouragement.

’Get….up…’ she'd deliver in a low growl. This was his day, after all.

[Sune]

Daul may of been proud of him for wounding her, but Sune wouldn’t be able to appreciate any of it. He felt his instincts burning hot to take her down. He was relying wholly on his powers as a Dra’sin, no tricks from his uncle, no guns, no enchanted weaponry. In this particular case he was sorely outclassed. Maybe he would one day get to rematch his sister with his full arsenal. One day he’d make his family proud of the man he’d become. Even if it meant beating every single one of them within an inch of their life. Desperately at the core of his being, he wanted that nearly depleted victory he’d had in Nexxian, he wanted to not be able to move anymore, and to just laugh while his limbs refused to work while his enemy lay defeated. Maybe this was the point of the whole trials, to push a Dra’sin to a primal breaking point. To let their natural battle instincts temper them and teach them to push past artificial limits they had imposed upon themselves.

Sune’ere came forward with his kick and the dagger point where it would make first contact with something that was unfortunately not his sister but her mirror image. Still though with the magi clashing and his own core extension certainly more dense at the point of impact there might be some tearing of that portion of her magi, giving her the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach as some form of metaphysical pain was transferred to his younger sibling. Until the limbs ripped him from the mirror form, and forcibly removed the magi created blade, he would keep his focus aimed there.

With each of his limbs now splayed forwards including the broken right arm, he could only grit his teeth and do his best to ignore the intense pain as she had unintentionally reset his bone at the proper angle. He reacted off of instinct the moment his magi blade had been removed from the offending party, he would shift its position, though not quick enough to fully intercept the next blow, it would lessen it to a degree as she met his gut. His force projection had informed his mind of her trajectory of her actual bodies attack, and so he would simply intercept it with his core extension, placed at just above skin level of his gut. Instead of a focused blade like before, or the primal claw he’d used previously he would instead manifest something that was more defensive and less offensive. An almost gel like manifestation, that would soften the blow, while also wrapping the whole of Dauls elbow in the defense. Colliding with it would be painful, if only for the briefest of instants.

He collided with the disc they fought upon. Slamming down into it heavily, as he proceeded to bounce back upwards and fall again. He could feel the structure shaking from his own impact, his head ringing and body already tiring from the amount of pain and stress he’d placed upon himself. All he wanted was a sandwich, a nap, and some pain meds. He could sense all of the energy they had expended in the air, floating about them. Unbound magi, just hanging around in the air from their clashes of core extended limbs. If only he could use it like he had his magics. A way to keep himself at range, which he preferred with his opponents. Turn it all into a vicious weapon around them, something he could use. The idea was there, but just how? Was Daul’s modified aegis some use of that? It had to be possible to reach out and turn that magi to his purposes.

Her words of encouragement reached the dazed prince, bringing him back from his own internal thought process. He coughed up blood which coated his facial hair and nose as he lay on his back. All he wanted was a nap, a sandwich and some pain meds. If the empire around him thought him down for the count though they would be sorely mistaken. His instincts however called out a different story. Kill her, make her pay, she’ll kill you if you don’t do her in first, win by any means possible. Sune’ere was a proper Dra’sin like his father, and he wouldn’t swallow his pride. He’d spit it in the face of his enemy.

That is exactly what Sune would do, spit blood in his sisters face from his prone position, the blood laced with trace amounts of core magi that would ping on her force projection that this was an actual attack. If it struck her face like he intended she just might have a new scar to show off, but Sune had done this to keep her focused on blocking the projectile coming her way. Shifting his Body Cascade to raw strength, the whole of his core, with even his Force Projection suddenly lowered, was put into his left arm. Rolling to his left side, he would push off with the palm of his hand, much like he had done with his legs when combat had started. As hard as he could he aimed his attack at his sister lower than her gut or chest, he intended to bring the full of his weight and power directly onto her knee. He wanted to hear the primoris potentiae’s leg break like she had done to his arm. The entire action should of been covered in the span of time it would take Daul to raise her hands and block the blood spit her way. His now reset right arm, gritting through the pain, kept an open palm which defended his ribs on that side. If she jumped and intended to stomp down on him, he would catch her. And if he caught her, he would mangle her leg with his magi.

[Mesiphidon]

The Emperor's eyes never left the ring, watching both of his children with an intense scrutiny. He held high expectations for them, but he was by no means a soft figure. He did not give unwarranted praise where it was not due. False confidence was the bane of many civilizations, of many who could be more. There would be lessons for both after this, should Sune survive. He knew the Primoris were holding back from their full carnage, pushing Sune beyond limits he thought he might have had. But pulling up just enough to keep him alive.

That was the true purpose of the trials, not to kill their comrades but break them so they could be forged in the fires of battle stronger then ever. Some died, those weak of will, those unworthy of the prestige of being a Fir'an. For those there was not pity, no remorse. Sune had proven his worth so far, the fires had hardened him more already even the crowd could see that.

Their roars were almost deafening, anger and excitement that Sune had drew blood from the Potentiae. The Alis as before the loudest, even louder by far than the Ultonis. Daul's branch were some of the most fervent zealots. Mesiphidon's arm extended once more after Daul had tossed Sune to the ground and spoke the worde of encouragement. Eyes intensifying as the barrier split the ring once more separating the combatants. Mesiphidon waiting the few moments for the crowds to die down as the motion capture monitors played back the feed in slowed time for those unable to keep up.

The pavilion boomed with Mesiphidon's voice again. "Sune'ere has fought his way through the second trial. Proving his determination to fight on as his limits were broken. Who now will you choose to harden that determination into a weapon of war?" The crowd deathly silent now, all eyes on Sune as they waited anxiously to see who they would choose. Both the Ignis and Fulminis Alis all but daring the others to speak up.

The barrier fell away, as the ring once again began the process of self repair. Giving Daul freedom to leave, and as before with Fenris, no medics had rushed to heal the Potentiae's battle wound. None would. It was a mark of pride, Mesipidon's gaze taking in the woman with the ghost of a smile as he nodded. She had done well.

[Daul]

Sune’ere stirred and the Potentiae raised her firsts; mouth twisting up at the corners slightly in preparation for the next exchange— and then her father raised his hand. There was plenty of bloodlust left in Daul to dole out, though, she understood that the event had come to a stopping point. She’d broken bones in her brother, but, he’d managed to bleed her. By no means was she angry about sustaining a wound from him, in fact, it gave her a little hope that he might survive the gauntlet and come out a new man on the other side.

And Sune needed to do exactly that if, first, he was going to march in line with the Potentiae and potentially claim his place at her side as a Legatus.

Daul displayed a visible effort to control her temperament and power; shaking out the adrenaline in an almost canine fashion while lowering her arms to her side. A few steps back from Sune’ere before she was tempted as such uncontrolled actions born of insanity would have made a mockery of her station, the emperor and the purpose of the occasion. When Mesiphidon said stop— that’s what one had to do: stop. Thus, an about-face after lingering for a few moments to be sure Sune’ere was able to get onto his feet before she straightened her spine in her usual militaristic fashion and exited the ring.

On the way out Daul did catch her father’s very subtle expression of approval and would unintentionally give the crowd a rare display— a full smile of her own; crooked as usual in a way Jophiel was quite familiar with and would recognize. Without thinking or caring, the Primoris reached up to smooth her hair down with the arm that bore the wound and managed to smear her stark white hair with a wide, thick streak of blood. Approval from Mesiphidon was hard to come by and, for all the zealots who walked under her command and risked their lives Daul was still quite young for her kind and inwardly savored the validation.

While somewhat mussed and bleeding, Daul didn’t look too worse for wear as she reclaimed her place amongst the other Primoris. She hadn’t forgotten that her uniform jacket was still in Jophiel’s arms— that just meant her intended would have to figure out a way to return it to her after the event. Likely an intentional move….

[Sune]

Sune’re had blocked out everything during the battle around them. The watchful gaze of his father, the crowds cheering that came moments past when something drastic happened. What was important to him was his survival in this ring and nothing more. When the shield came down just before his next attack could go through he would wince in pain, knowing just what was to come next. He could go back on his convictions to challenge his last opponent, he could pick someone he’d fought against before like Drustan, someone he may yet have an upper hand against just based off of raw magi talent and his ability to think more outside the box. That however wouldn’t drive him forward. He couldn’t hope to keep up with Caden, that would be nothing but a reactionary battle, something that was just him defending himself. Could he hope to stand against his intended target that sat upon the throne to them all? He hoped he still had it in him.

Standing and in clear pain for all those to see, he took a moment to remove his shirt, showing off hard muscles which were now covered in bruises from his sisters assault. The damage most certainly wasn’t limited to what could be seen, those bruises from raw blunt force trauma all along his rib cage and abdominal muscles was plain to see he would require medical attention sooner rather than later if he was going to recover at a rate that wasn’t months. He took a moment, to grab his tie from his pocket. Wrapping it around his forehead, in a way that might remind his father and older brother of Ferox. Something the man who’d looked over him always had done before a serious fight. Because his uncle had been such a huge nerd, he actually thought that made him look cool, and by extension Sune’ere actually thought the same for himself. He looked to Rose, catching her eye’s for a moment, and he would smile across the arena to her. He mouthed three simple words, that others could probably see. If he was going to fail, he needed to say something between them, a simple ‘I love you.’ was mouthed before he did what needed to be done.

His grin betrayed his wounds, Turning to his side he would tuck his right arm into the crook of his left while he pointed towards his father and cocked his head towards him. Eye’s meeting across that distance. Already his father probably could gather his intentions, but Sune needed to let Celesin know. “If Fenris was my anvil, and Daul the hammer which would forge me into a blade for Celesin. I can think of no better way to temper this blade of my body, and quench me into a servant of glory, then the man who helped bring me into this world. I Challenge my own father. If I am to fail, I would rather it be at the hands of the man who I respect above all else, and who I aspire to be. Come here Dad, I have something to prove to you, for myself, for my brothers and sisters, present, lost and those yet to come.” His grin and pride never faltered, he knew everyone’s reaction already was something that would probably be somewhere near surprise and anticipation. To see two Primoris fight within a day, that was lucky. Too see the Emperor take the ring? No this would be a day to remember for the rest of the citizens lives.

[Røse]

Rose felt as if she hand’t taken a single breath during the entire match between Sune’ere and his enormous sister— who she resisted standing up, running to and shoving over the mezzanine for how much Daul had  injured her man— as it was, well...it was brutal. Sune had lived but Rose had been convinced after the match with the first fellow that it was an even test of will that didn’t involve trying to murder the other party in front of the camera.

How thoroughly Rose had gotten it wrong.

It didn’t seem like the quiet but big woman who Sophonax had forced onto a kiddie stool for a haircut while holding Odine was the same monster that had entered the ring platform. It wasn’t right to her that someone’s sister would do that to someone and in Rose’s eyes the occasion be damned— this was ugly. Rage tempered by sick worry could be seen in the young woman’s eyes every time Sune’ere hit the platform; the Sentinel’s ass nearly out of her seat as she leaned forward with wide and horrified eyes and a palm over her mouth. Or else she may have started screaming for everyone to get off of Sune before she found a way to start shooting. Nevermind that she hadn’t brought her arms...plus, she still had a toddler in her arms who was purely quiet for once and satisfied with yanking her mother’s loose, dark waves around.

At one point the Empress Ess—….something had noticed Rose’s disposition and casually reached across their seats to put a hand over her forearm. She didn’t need to ask if Sune’ere was going to make it as it was likely written all over her features. The empress did not need to vocalize either….she only gave a serene and reassuring smile.

The barrier lifted again and she saw him stagger to his feet; an exhalation of relief and pressure blowing from Rose’s open mouth until the man of the hour took his shirt off and caused her to cringe.

’What the fuck!’ she hissed; just above a whisper with strain. Rose knew broken ribs, contusions and subcutaneous bleeds. Her boyfriend had all three, and, something was wrong with one of his arms. He mouthed something that made her shake her head— what an awful, obvious occasion to say such a thing. But, Rose returned the gesture and mouthed something back to him. It may have been “I love you too” or perhaps something not unlike “I’m going to rip the head off of your sister and your corpse if you don’t make it”. It would be difficult to tell since she’d done so while Big Daddy spoke.

Who knew?

Now, Rose just knew Sune’ere was surely going to pick another Primoris. That made sense, didn’t it? Perhaps it would be the fellow with darker skin, or, maybe even Ginger Snap? Of course, the gigantic dumbass went and pointed to the much bigger, scarier, mountain of muscle version of himself on the dais. The goddamned emperor. This time, she outright couldn't stop herself from saying something.

’Oh, are y’ fuckin’ kiddin’ me…’ she’d say; turning to the Emperor Mesiphidon with wide eyes and an open mouth. Odine, uncaring, pointed to him again and shouted grandaddy! only to have Rose, now stunned otherwise; gently put a hand over her little mouth. Somehow, this amused Odine even more.

If she caught Sune’ere’s eyes after looking to the Primoris, the Empress and even members of the crowd as if they could intervene and stop this madness, she’d not have something to say. Instead Rose only stared at him; shaking her head in disbelief and fear.

[Mesiphidon]

If Mesiphidon had any reaction to the bruises and injuries inflicted to Sune he revealed nothing. His face the blank mask until Sune spoke, calling out not one of the Primoris but the Emperor himself. His brow arched almost inquisitively at the boy, his head tilting slightly. Bold, incredibly bold. Unlike before where there was a roar of cheers for the chosen opponent, especially those among the Alis. The crowds had been stunned to silence. Mouths agape in surprise and awe.

Finally Mesiphidon's lips cracked into the faintest of smiles before Rose cursed, and Odine cried out. The white fires blazing in his eyes intensified a moment as he moved to rise from his seat. Unfortunately Mesiphidon could not offer Rose a reassuring grin, and it seemed his wife was seeking to console her. Undoubtedly this was unbelievable and difficult for her. She didn't know the culture, but the look the woman had told the Emperor far more than any words or promises she could have made. For that he gave her a small nod.

From the silence of the crowd came the steady but increasing tempo of what seemed drumming. The clash of weapons on shields as the Emperor's personal Alis Domnius rallied for their lord. Drumming their weapons upon their shields as before the moment of battle while Mesiphidon finally rose from his seat. The thunderous crashing echoing in the silence seemed louder than any cheering from before.

"So I have been called, so shall I answer." Standing now, the Emperor unclasped the fur mantled cloak and laid it across his seat. "Be ready boy." The crowd had finally erupted now, joining in not as shouts but following the suit of the Dominus, drumming their hands or feet in tandem until it seemed the whole of Lu'rae was booming. Feeling like a constant roll of thunder that threatened to shake the very city from the sky. No doubt anything below the city would imagine nothing short of a violent thunderstorm above.

Turning a moment from the crowd and managing a private glance with his beloved Mesiphidon pulled free his coat and shirt, removing them from his torso and like his very disobedient daughter handed them gently to his wife. It was a private bit of temptation for her alone before he turned from her and faced the ring and Sune. Really he had no idea where she got her notions from, she was just too brazen now. For a single moment the Emperor missed the times when she would speak to no one but him. Less to worry about then.  

Thick muscles revealed to the eyes of all before them as he made his way from the dias to the ring. The crowds parting for him before he would leap onto the platform. Fingers curling as his arms extended in a slow stretch. Yet as he did so the blaze in his eyes intensified and threads of Magi began to flow over his arms, wrapping his fists until the air around them began to haze. It was almost like he had wrapped his arms in puppet strings, but as the shield rose the distorted air suddenly ignited.

The Emperor's fists becoming deep molten red as flames licked up his arms and around his shoulders. Seething white hot flames that were it not for the shield those nearby would have shied from the heat alone. Finally his body turned, while his right foot slid back. Facing Sune over his left shoulder, as his left hand rose up, held in a loose fist at shoulder level. The right arm hovering around his abdomen, stance lowering as he knees bent.

There was no need for words, no one had any, but Sune would have the opening to the echo of the pounding war drumming from the city and people around him.

[Esarhaddon]

There were moments in the midst of the fighting where the Empress felt...strange. A touch nauseated, or, there would be a brief flash of discomfort from her very full womb and a sense of impending doom. It never lasted long at all and yet it confused her. Was it something to do with Cabyses? Her daughter— still in utero— was quiet today save for the occasional kicks and shifting about. So many months of Esarhaddon having to stay completely stabilized and allow her body to fully simulate functioning, delicate organs needed for reproduction. No longer were they simple stand-ins; they’d been made true and put to use for the purpose of bearing an heir to Mesiphidon. Never had she been so vulnerable and for so long— and, never had she been in love until he’d come along.

The lengthy time and risk were all worth it.

In between speaking to the crowd and whipping them into a frenzy, her hand was held gently by he who was bonded so thoroughly to her. Esarhaddon turned on various occasions to study her husband’s expressions as he observed his youngest son first survive Fenris and then manage to come out alive if bruised after going a rather spirited round with the prodigal daughter. The King saw what most wouldn’t have the faculties to visually register play out across his perfectly carved profile and glowing eyes. Now and again she would shift her hand in his much larger one to trace her thumb around the round of his palm.

The young woman Sune’ere had brought along with him who now sat on the dias in what was surely an awkward and exposed positon was another story. One didn’t need to be able to read every tic of musculature across her features to tell that Rose NaGig was horrified, afraid, angry and sick with worry for the Prince and his violent, momentous occasion. Esarhaddon had already seen enough from Rose to know the feelings she had for Sune were true: a subtle spike in body temperature and heart rate when they sat next to each other, dilated pupils, swelling in her lips and a flush over the collar. By no means was the girl at his side for an ulterior motive— she was head over heels for him in a dangerous way. Not to mention how much the child seemed to love the man in the ring.

And now, white knuckle anxiety was obvious on Rose’s face as Daul left the ring and Sune turned to give her a message. Esarhaddon’s vision expanded to a panoramic focus and zeroed in on Sune’ere as he spoke to Rose from a distance and in obvious pain. Acoustic frequency isolation and automatic noise canceling singled out his whisper even from the dais where she sat. ’I love you-I love you-I love you-I love— ’ The moment was replayed a few times for thorough analyzation. The cadence of his whisper and expressions sent a clear message even Sune might not be aware he was communicating— but few things were lost on a King.

He thought he might die. He worried it could happen and he didn’t want to leave without letting Rose know he cared for her. Esarhaddon eased the hand not enveloped in Mesiphidon’s over to their guest and placed it across her forearm. The poor darling was perspiring and the King’s faculties informed her that she was on the verge of an anxious break, or, a state of shock. It was impressive that she was holding on well enough and obviously for her daughter’s sake.
The emperor spoke and stood; having been summoned for the final bout against his son. Esarhaddon seemed in no way surprised that he had been called to the ring— not after the intimate moment she’d observed between the Prince and the ranch girl. And then, her love was taking everything off above his belt and handing it to her in the exact same fashion as Daul had to Jophiel.

A full, white smile and a touch of chime-like laughter as the King-Empress reached out to graciously accept the cloth of legend— his black cape and luxurious fringer, the almost chitinous and high tech fabric vest and two Harsonas lion crests. Esarhaddon in turn paid him a gaze after her obvious amusement coupled with her elegant fingers stroking the fur of his accoutrements— and then, that well honed body meant for war was walking toward the ring.

’Have faith, Rose Na Gig…’ she’d suddenly purr; noticing that she’d startled the woman in question who was struggling valiantly not to hyperventilate. ’Their kind are very hard to kill. Made from that which existed before the stars themselves...you needn’t fear for Sune’ere. He will make his father proud and after, he will have you smiling at his side.’

[Sune]

Sune’ere did not hear the cries and cheers of those around him, only the silence for a moment, and then Rose’s cursing. It brought a grin to his face as he moved his right arm around testing it. It would hurt like hell, but he wouldn’t die from it. As the clanging of weapons began and grew louder Sune would begin to play with the tie that he’d wrapped around his head and then look downwards. He may as well take the time that was given to him as his father approached and spoke and did what he wanted too to tighten up his boots. His eye’s coming up every now and again to see where his father was. Once he was done quickly with his boots he would begin to play with the end of his tie, making a show of looking bored for a moment. It was all a mask to hide his fear, but one that he wore rather proudly. Better to let his father think less of him with his lack of respect instead of showing just how scared he was to be facing him.

He flexed his fingers testing them and rubbing the sides against each other while the thumb nervously ran over his palm and underneath the underside of his fingers. He was about to take an offensive stance when his father’s arms lit on fire. He pointed in disbelief at what his father had decided was fair against his son. “Oh c’mon!” He ran his hands along the back of his neck, suddenly not exactly sure of his decision, drumming his thumb and forefinger back there for a brief bit of confusion and a way to think. He would need to find someway to get in and not take a single hit, or defend against that and not just die on contact.

He did his best to observe his father, to try and determine just how he could do something like that. It wasn’t unlike Daul’s makeshift aegis, calling upon his core and some form of ability to change the magi of himself. Was he capable of that? By Ferox’s teachings he might of been capable, but a spell would just fizzle when it came in direct contact with a core extension. The amount of power he would need to pump into it to make it feasible was not something he had. Plus he was here to test his abilities as a Dra’sin, not any of his other abilities. Yet if he could shift his core through his body, and maybe change how it’s density interacted with his own flesh he might be able to accomplish something. Well there was no telling unless he tried right? He continued to observe his father and maybe if he shifted around his own bodies make up using his core he could create a similar effect.

His eye’s lit up and blazed once more that white hoarfrost color as he focused upon his arms. Take the heat of his blood, the water mixture that pumped through it. Increase his natural core temperature and raise his endurance. Then instead of manifesting as a blazing inferno as his father had done, the outside of his arms would coat themselves in a white frost, slowly at first and then rapidly to match the color of his eyes. By raising his core temperature throughout his body he would then of used his core magi to remove heat from his limbs, causing the freezing effect. With his body cascade keeping his endurance high, he was at little risk of causing frostbite on his limbs. He had taken the first step towards a new peak for himself, and this time without going into a rage. Now with deep ice covered limbs he may be ready to fight his father.

He eyed his father’s stance, wondering just how to approach such a stance. He took a boxer’s defensive stance, keeping his limbs in front of him as he began a slower approach than usual. Step after step forward giving himself time to think, that was what he needed time. He knew how to approach this now, not with the same reckless abandon that he’d gone against his last two opponents, he needed to think his moves through and plan ahead if he hoped to survive. If he could somehow knock his father off balance, he might have a chance. Despite his power, to Sune’ere’s knowledge Dra’sin were still bound to some physical limitations of their body. Certain strikes at them might just do what he needed.

He ran at his father, not bothering to up his speed, he was already naturally fast without body cascade, fast enough to put most humans at the peak of their ability to shame. His battle tie waving in the wind behind him, the nervous movements he made with it may of pulled off more than a few strands making the whole thing appear a bit smaller than when he’d worn it. When he was within striking distance his right hand moved as an open palm, but pulled back to deliver a haymaker aimed directly at Mesiphidon’s head. If he struck he would smack the larger man in the left ear, intending to knock his equilibrium off balance. As soon as his hand met some kind of resistance, whether from an arm blocking, or his father’s head, Sune would shift his equilibrium by crouching down, and sending his right arm that was balled into a fist towards his father’s chest. Hopefully the strike was hard enough to knock him backwards as at the same time, he shifted downwards he also lowered just a bit more by extending his leading left foot forwards and around the side of his old man’s leading foot, intending to use his backwards momentum, and potentially off center equilibrium to trip him and send him onto his back.

If he could manage that, Sune’ere would not relent on his assault, stepping forward he would use his right foot to stomp onto his father’s chest. Again, and again, he had no intention of letting up, keep the old man down, use his enhanced frozen limbs to cause even more harm than he normally would of. Upon contact with the frozen limbs, they would attempt to transfer such extreme cold to whatever they contacted that could not counteract the effect. Causing extreme pain and possible frost bite to whereever that they made contact with. If not properly defended against after all such extreme temperatures could be just as dangerous as the fire that his father utilized, sending a body into sudden shock.

[Mesiphidon]

The Emperor’s gaze missed very little if anything, despite the posturing and façade it was impossible for him to miss how nervous Sune was. But he at least he hadn’t doubted himself, he couldn’t. That would be the end of him, as Mesiphidon had no intentions of playing soft ball with the boy. He wasn’t going to turn the dial to 100, that would outright kill his son, but Sune would know pain today and whatever limits he thought he had would be shattered.

Normally the aggressor, Mesphidon waited, giving Sune time to collect himself. Once the Emperor moved to the offensive, he was relentless. His fingers flexing as Sune’s eyes lit up and he turned his arms cold. The Avatar made no indication of what he thought of Sune’s tactics as the drumming around them seemed to echo. Growing in a crescendo that exploded in a violence of screams as Sune finally made his move. Mesiphidon paid it no mind, background noise, fading to nothing as his attention focused. So the boy would try another direct approach.

He was brazen, but too bold. If Sune thought Daul’s strength was titanic, he was in for a very rude awakening. Mesiphidon’s left hand opened slightly, a distortion of air collecting in the half open palm as his left foot stepped forwards towards Sune’s charging haymaker. The punch was too choreographed, even if that was the intent haymakers were wild powerful swings that left you completely open. Only ever viable if an opponent was already staggered, never as an opener. And for that Mesiphidon would punish him.

As his left foot stepped forwards and planted, his torso began to rotate right. Mesiphidon’s left hand which had been raised shoulder height in front of him turned his wrist and as he stepped inside the initial swing he would be able to not only block it, but grab Sune’s right forearm with his heated hand. And that’s where the chaos would begin. Immediately upon grasping Sune’s forearm, the air within his palm would form a rotating ring around the limb. The effect was two-fold. First to protect the Avatar’s hand from the repercussions, the second to contain and resonate them into the boys limb.

Perhaps Sune was unaware, but the effects of extreme cold meeting extreme heat, was violence. An explosion of energy and material akin to a bomb, certainly Sune’s cold outer layer of flesh would be object of detonation. Which would have been brutal enough, but Mesiphidon contained the blast, within the barrier of air. The most likely effect… Sune’s limb would be all but destroyed from the point of contact and down. Perhaps Sune had learned to alter his bodies reception of pain already. But if he hadn’t then the pain he would feel would no doubt cause instinct to kick in and his core would forcefully shut down his pain center.

This however was only the beginning of the Avatar’s brutal onslaught. Mesiphidon held a height advantage over Sune, so his intended punch was would be punching upwards to his Mesiphidon’s head, and as he stepped inside the guard and blocked, Mesiphidon’s exploding hand grip used the momentum of his rotating body to pull to the left and up. Sune’s intention to duck and punch greatly hindered, but more importantly it would leave his son open to the incoming right first.

The punch coming simultaneous to the rotation and only a moment after Mesphidon’s block/grab, his right fist and arm turning as he delivered a straight full power jab intended for Sune’s solar plexus as his hips turned the ball of his right foot all but digging into the ground. Even if Sune managed to ignore the pain and dispositioning and still attempt a counter-blow, Mesphidon’s right jab would strike first and any impact from Sune would be lessened and blunted by his rotating body.

Should the right fist impact to with the burning and sizzling of flesh, then like Daul before him Mesiphidon’s strength would send Sune’s soaring across the ring. But unlike his too kind daughter, Mesiphidon wouldn’t give Sune the reprieve of the air. The white fires in his eyes intensifying as Core Magi flowed from the Avatar’s right fist. Not as Core Extension the pair had been using but around Sune, behind him. Turning the air, hardening into a solid surface that Sune’s potentially soaring body would slam into not but two feet from the point of impact. And the Avatar’s body was already turning, his left leg the pivot for the incoming snap kick of his right leg intending to break his son’s knee.

Were those that watched ring side not Celesin, they might have been in shock and awe, disbelief that the Emperor could be so violent to even his own son. But they were warriors; there was no mercy, no respite. They were expected to be hard. It was time now to see what Sune was really made of.

Two staggering impacts, a very potential missing arm, and the coming likelihood of a broken knee. It was time to see if Sune could turn it around and fight back against the Celesin Emperor. Their Prime God of War.

[Sune]

Sune’ere was not stupid, he knew the risk he ran with freezing his limbs. It had been a calculated risk, but something he couldn’t of really foreseen the actual outcome of in the end. As his right arm collided with his father’s grip and the subsequent explosion that didn’t just decimate the limb, but nearly vaporized it down to the elbow. To others this would of been too much. Whether by instinct or knowledge of what was to happen, Sune had shut off pain receptors. He knew that he no longer had an arm to punch with, and that was what mattered. The strings he had carefully woven between his hands were now loose. Maybe in his grip of Sune’s arm he had felt that between each finger was a small string pulled directly from that tie on his head. His original intention had been for his father to block him on the inside of his hand, grab him within the trap of small strings between each hand and use that to his advantage. However with one of the focal points of tension between both hands now severed the strings between his hands had become absolutely useless. His careful planning of an obviously telegraphed attack had been brutally and efficiently stopped. His father’s raw strength and brutality were beyond even Sune’s usual underhanded tactics.

As their fists moved past one another, his own left hand managing a glancing blow, but still a blow against his own father he grinned. Pouring his power into the point of impact Mesiphidon would find his body where he struck at a temperature close to freezing over. Even Dra’sin obeyed certain rules of physiology, such as blood, and the the freezing effect would halt the blood flow through his father, at such a close area to his chest maybe his avatars heart would experience a sudden bit of arrhythmia, forcing a catch of his breath or more. It was hard to tell with a Dra’sin who had ascended from the need for a mortal body. And the his fathers punch landed.

The wind was torn from his lungs, and he was sent flying a mere two feet backwards. However his plots went deeper than simple tricks of strings. Sune had been raised by a tricky man, who laid plots within plots to accomplish whatever he wished. So it wasn’t unheard of that Sune might of laid more than one simple trap for his father. The lacing up of his boots had been the real trap there as he had made a show of lacing his boots he had also laced around the edges more strings. With the tension from his hands now slack, those strings which went from his boots towards his neck, had gone slack, his step towards his father had been a setup, instead of his attempt to trip the larger man, they had been meant to lay smaller lassos at the point where he would step when he closed the distance between him and Sune. With the boy now propelled backwards the rop would move up around Mesiphidon’s ankles, and tighten. The moment Sune was a foot backwards the tension between his neck and the mans legs would be enough, at two feet, one or both of his feet would be forcibly pulled out from beneath him. The tensile strength of the strings would of been enhanced, utilizing Core Magi. The strings were nothing more than a conduit after all. And as he flew his short distance backwards Mesiphidon would be pulled from one or both feet before he could deliver his knee breaking blow.

Of course the impact against the wall of air would of knocked the wind from Sune if it hadn’t already been put into the air. The rattling of his spin and head were only ignored thanks to his core working off instincts. This was truly the life and death fight he had wanted. When he smacked the air barrier, Sune would already be upon the offensive in more ways than even the emperor might of anticipated. If Mesiphidon had been tripped up by his plan, he would be at a distinct disadvantage, as the strings pulling backwards might force him onto his back. Even just a slight staggering of the man he called father, would be enough to allow him to have a sudden upper hand. With his fathers hand already extended outwards where he made the wall Sune would crash into, Sune would extend his own remaining left hand towards dear old dad. Intending to grip the flame covered hand in his palm. Reversing the heat of his body towards the hand he would force the same kind of explosion upon his father. Scalding steam moving to sear off flesh, and the speed of his attack creating a sudden gust which would push the steam towards his father’s face. With his remaining arm he would of heated it up to such a temperature as to match his father’s. The way he was doing this was by literally boiling the blood in his veins. Sure he had no skin on the arm, and was barely able to protect his muscles, but at this point fuck pain. He’d already lost his good hand for pleasing his girl. He knew he couldn’t overpower his father by raw magi, that was a fool's errand but by keeping him on the reactive how Sune had planned, he swayed everything in his favor.

Speaking of his lost good diddling hand, Sune was not such a fool as to lose such a good opportunity as a blown out limb that was more vapor than actual flesh. Yet it held remanents of him inside of it. The vapor of his arm while Sune was trying to trip and grab his father’s hand would be forcibly converted into useful bits. Instead of relying on ice like he was prone to do, the small bits of water vapor would begin zipping around his father as small globules of water. However they would be moving at such a rapid pace as to be considered bullets. Tearing into his back and sides at multiple angles, avoiding Sune as he had direct control over them. Their power would be akin to high velocity bullets as Sune pumped what little remained of his core magi into them. Sure he couldn’t cast remotely as his father could yet, but his rapid realization of how to ,manipulate the elements around him would show to his father just how much that prodigy gene meant.

In this battle there weren’t seconds or moments, there were miliseconds to decide if he would live or die. Even if he had been unsuccessful at tripping his father or even throwing him off balance, that string that connected them was now there until severed. With the vapor bullets trying to riddle his father, and the hand grabbed, Sune couldn’t stop here. This day he wouldn’t be able to win against his father, but survive? Oh yes the boy was good at that. If the kick to his knee still came, despite his attempts to throw the God-Emperor off balance, he would endure it. His outer limbs having been frozen and thus hardened not unlike a glacier. The power needed to break bones wouldn’t be sufficient to break Sune’ere’s knee. With his father still in his trap and with the hand gripped he would push forward, leaping from where he was in fact at his father intending to use his weight and the fact that his neck and the strings around his father’s feet were still entangled. Hopefully this would force him on his back, With Sune on top of him. With the wind back in his lungs, he would yell in his father’s face.

Maybe just maybe his old man could see that Sune’ere was on the brink of raging, his core so depleted as to bring him to this point. He needed to live, that was his prime directive. He would need to heal, so that he could hug his lover one day soon, and move the red curls from Odine’s face again one day. If he had pushed him down or even closed the distance between them, Sune came at him with what might appear to be a rough head butt. And yet the trajectory was too low. He aimed to sink his teeth into his fathers neck, just enough to start blocking his air way and force him to try and push him off. He dared it to happen, pull your own esophagus out old man! The hand which held his dad’s own continued to burn using fat cells within his body to fuel himself, while the broken arm with its half destroyed arm and pointed bones would start to stab violently down into Mesiphidon’s stomach. Winning was all that mattered to him now. He knew if he didn’t fight to his absolute prime his father would destroy him, the lack of an arm had already proven that. Unlike Fenris and Daul his father had raised the stakes to the point that if he didn’t give it everything he had and tried to actually kill the emperor well he might actually die here.

He couldn’t die here, he still had so much he wanted to do. Fight for his sister, live out his life with Rose. To see his father smile at him the way he used to smile at his underlings in the amarancy when they succeeded despite the things that his father threw in their way. To have children with Rose, to see the small bundles of joy bouncing upon his father’s knee. He would fight for that future til his last breath.

[Mesiphidon]

Mesiphidon’s gaze was anything but unaware, even in the heat of battle it would be impossible for him not to notice the strings. Especially considering Sune had laced them with his Magi. With Sune’s left arm missing from the elbow down, one set became useless, that simply left the other. However given the Emperor’s tugging on Sune, his trap planting step would have been hindered, or in the very least the positioning would hardly be ideal. Even if they went taut, they would have been planted at best even with Mesiphidon’s leading right foot between his body. Their line from potential anchor point to Sune himself wouldn’t actually intersect the Avatar’s legs or ankles.

The fiery fists and molten hands distinguished Mesiphidon as a master of fire, and by extension heat. It was a simple matter to heat the point of impact from Sune’s glancing blow and his attempt to freeze the Emperor’s body. Unlike the clash of limbs however, Mesiphidon instill a gradual heat that simply countered the effects of the momentary touch as it attempted to spread.  He has no intentions of seeing his side explode in a similar manner to Sune’s arm.

Without the strings in a position to trip or hinder Mesiphidon’s movements, his snap kick would strike home. Thus commencing the real meat of the attack, the right arm which had punched Sune would pull in as his body rotated with the kick, maintaining a defense of his core as was natural and in the process thwarting the boys attempt to grab the hand and attempt to inflict heat pain, on a man that had quite literally lit himself on fire.  The difference however was that as his right hand drew in; it would curl out just enough to grab the strings which were still tethered to Sune, a brutal intention to follow through after the kick landed.

The Emperor wasn’t enhancing his titanic strength with body cascade, but he certainly wasn’t holding back either. The kicks impact would be shattering, capable of breaking bone and more. But the real crux of the kick was the extension of Magi, thread exploding from his extended foot in a torrent of flame that would ignite the wall of air that Sune had been slammed into. The force of the kick sending a second wave of tremors through the air wall, that once ignited and his hold released would cause it to explode.

The violence of the inferno that erupted filled the dome shielded ring with a cascade of flame that momentarily blocked vision. Whatever remained of Sune’s arm bits as he sought to use them as bullets would be incinerated. Such small fragments would be all but vaporized, the remaining fluttering to the ground like a snow of ash.  As for Sune, no doubt what clothing he had been wearing would have burned away, his flesh perhaps charred if not outright burned away.

Mesiphidon had been… gentle. Keeping the heat low enough not to simply vaporize the boy, but he was Dra’sin. A hardy breed, and Sune perhaps instinctively or otherwise would increase his resistance, or perhaps even see the beginning of Core manifest to protect the body through a primitive Aegis.

The force of the explosion from the wall would likely send Sune flying again, though not of his own volition and that’s where Mesiphidon’s grip on the strings came into play as the Avatar followed through with the momentum of his kick. His right foot touching ground, using the left to pivot once more, turning his position about face as he used the strings like a flail, with Sune the ball. Meaning to hurl his child into the ground with a force multiplied several times over then the initial blast would have invoked. The impact alone causing the very ring to shudder and groan. Causing a collective gasp from the crowd as they watched. Sune likely breaking several more bones and dislocating a shoulder to begin with.

Despite the spike in temperature and the blast of heat and fire, Mesiphidon remained untouched by the blaze, his body steaming, the fire roaring up along his arms and the molten fists still burning hot. Sune had chosen the Emperor to be his final test, Mesiphidon had to honor that request, even if meant breaking Sune until the last thread of his existence waivered.

The true purpose of these trials was to accelerate growth through instinct, survival brought forth so much more from within then any amount of training could do. He knew the boy was alive, but he would be impressed if he could still stand. It was time as it were, to see what Sune was truly made of.

[Røse]

Rose had almost certainly noticed that her string of shocked and worried expletives had been delivered over silence as the crowd went silent from shock. Sune’ere had chosen his father, and, apparently it was a Big Deal®. She couldnt seem to stop shaking her head and there was a sinking feeling in her gut that worsened every time all the military guys stomped and banged on their shields.

This did not look good. Especially not after she’d made eye contact with the emperor and there was an expression on his chiseled features that Rose couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t anything like grief or reassurance. But it stuck with her— a look so subtle but confusing. It meant something. Perhaps she was simply too anxious to correctly filter it?

Odine remained turned away from the hooplah to whatever was behind the dais and this was most certainly how it should be. Her mother had made sure the child wasn’t privy to any violence in the ring and had kept her little hands busy by allowing the toddler to yank her hair, earrings or babble only to have Rose mumble something back in the classic validating tone solely reserved for very young children.

’Ah, christ…’ from the Sentinel when the Emperor removed everything above his legwear. He had muscles in places Rose wasn’t sure was all that anatomically correct, and, he was enormous. The only other large and shredded man she’d seen of such calibre was Bahst and that was long ago. Her eyes flit back and forth and she watched the cloth and cloak being handed to the lovely woman beside her. She caught herself mumbling ’No, please...come on….overkill’ and understood that no one had heard her as the huge man walked away and entered the ring. The Empress said something obviously meant to be reassuring, but, this time it didn’t stop Rose from grimacing.

’I-I got faith, I just….I don’t know if I can watch anymore of this, Ma’am. I— ‘ and as if on queue she witnessed Mesiphidon’s limbs become molten...and she slumped slightly in her chair. ’Yeah, I cain’t watch. I gotta…’

And so, she closed her eyes. At least for a half a minute or so to try and get her breathing back in order and her heart rate back to something manageable and not chaotic. An inner mantra of he’ll be fine, he’s the son of something close to a god knocked around the inside of her skull. Maybe it was a display of weakness on her part but it helped— more than anything, it helped her ground herself and even shut out the din of noise from the crowd if just for a moment. Until something made them go absolutely wild.

When Rose opened her eyes out of reflex she saw that Sune’ere’s arm had been effectively vaporized below the elbow. It didn’t seem real. Where she could have screamed or rushed the stage, her body instead decided that her gorge was going to rise— and violently. Rose, looking impressively green for someone of her skintone, managed to mumble something close to an apology for briefly leaving Odine alone in the chair with only Esarhaddon to watch her (luckily, the child was calm and remained in the seat fully oblivious) before she shot out and away from the dais. If there was somewhere beyond the cameras and prying eyes Rose would have precious few moments to find it and lose every bit of the high quality whiskey and fingerfoods she’d enjoyed before the horror-show began. If not? Well, all of the empire was going to get a load of her inelegant ejecta. Likely, she’d have to lose it all over the railing in the mezzanine if there was nothing like a trashbin in the area. After, she’d need a few moments to catch her breath and keep from crying. A few napkins were seized to wipe her mouth.

Stumbling back with a thin sheen of sweat on her upper lips and forehead; Rose made a decision to be strong for Sune’ere in case she never saw him breathing again and tentatively stumbled back to the Dais. She wore a pained and shellshocked expression with too wide eyes before was nearly back to her seat and still behind the Empress— when she noticed something puzzling. There was something dripping from the pseudo-throne she sat upon and a portion of the back of her dress was wet. It caused the sentinel to stop in her tracks and stare with a confounded expression.

There was absolutely no way Rose figured she was witnessing the Empress of Celesin having pissed herself.

With knit brows, she continued her approach from behind and it only dawned on her once she’d picked up Odine again what she had witnessed— and why the empress, enthralled by the violence and stroking her husbands cloake and shirting hadn’t seemed to notice.

’Oh my good goddamn…’ she couldn’t help but vocalize; looking wary with her gaze traveling back and forth as she reclaimed her seat. The raven haired woman did turn in her direction once Rose cursed. She had her attention and, woman to woman, she supposed it really would be an eventful day after all...and not just because Sune’ere’s freaky, serial killer family was ripping him limb from limb. Now, it was time to lean in and hope there was a way to keep from causing a fiasco and embarrassing the ethereal royal.

’Ah, Mrs….Cel-....uh. Empress Dra’sin….?’ she’d wait for a prompt while stumbling over a proper method of addressing the woman. ’You got some wet, uhh—….I think your water broke?’

[Sune]

Sune’ere was being hasty and not thinking about what he did against his opponent. His father had millenia more experience than he did, and such simple things like tricks of string not even carefully laid were pointless not it seemed. With the terrain giving no one the advantage he had to resort to headstrong things like his father not noticing him doing certain things. He had taken a gamble on the ice in his arms, and the strings and not a single one would of paid off. Though his leg was not broken by the kick, the heat of the explosion behind him would find not just his clothing blown off but also the flesh of his legs. The tie he’d worn burning around his head for a moment while he was in the air giving him the appearance of a halo of fire before he was slammed down into the ground.

Pain, physical, emotional, mental. Sure his core stemmed off the blunt of the physical pain, cutting off nerve endings and receptors to his brain. However the core could do nothing for the other two. His emotions were screaming for him to just curl into a ball and give up, that this was an unwinnable fight. Run back to the ranch and never show yourself here again. Heal up and become an invalid. He knew when he was beaten, there was no winning here though. He could already feel his consciousness ebbing away. Better to be a coward and live then to stand and fight. Mentally he realized his mistake, he was relying on simple tricks that may of worked flawlessly upon anyone in Nexxian. But here there were not just a world of difference between that small desert city and here, there were galaxies of difference.

The feeling of his remaining functioning arm being dislocated upon impact and more ribs breaking brought him back to reality. He bounced and groaned upon the floor. The pace of combat having slowed down from its initial fervor. He gasped for breath in lungs that barely worked. He looked upwards at the towering figure of his own father. An impossible mountain to climb, and yet if he didn’t get up he wouldn’t know for sure. His legs he couldn’t feel anymore. His core having processed it all and trying desperately to counteract both pain and the searing flames. If any remained upon him, he would roll in a frenzy to put them out and smother them. He could still move,albeit slowly.

Unless his father continued his relentless assault, Sune would use his destroyed arms side to try and prop himself up. On his knees first, and then in a stumbling rise move to his feet. He couldn’t give up here, not after he’d come so far. His flesh burnt, and naked before the empire, eyelids unblinking, and a near skull grin plastered upon his face. The light in his eye’s might be losing some luminosity by this point. One last hurrah was all he had in him. He had to prove to his father that he had learned something in their combat. Even a small victory for him would be enough.

If Mesiphidon could flex his metaphysical muscles at the world around him, then so too could Sune, theoretically. He’d already found a way to do it to his own body, so why not extend that knowledge just a bit farther. He couldn’t possibly find enough water to smother the flames his father had made. But there were other ways to put out fires. Simple ways in fact. He just needed the power to do it. Did he have enough? Only time and luck would tell. He extended out his will from his diminishing core, attempting to touch the tapestry of reality and change how it functioned. Using the magics that Ferox had taught him would be noticeable, and they took time to convert things. He needed to go deeper. He needed to touch the very deepest level of reality, and suffuse his core into it, force it to change to his liking. Just one last trick he thought to himself, please let me have enough to actually do this.

Sune’ere stood, and it seemed like he might simply fall over, and as his father was ablaze around his arms, he stared intently not at the man who was fighting him, but at the air around him. Viewing reality for what it was, and what composed it all. He would force his core, redirecting any of the energy that he had to spare, even if it meant causing himself pain by reopening up pain receptors. Like he had done in a very basic way with his own body Sune was now affecting the air around his father. In a flash of an instant, he would convert the air around his father’s arms into a steady stream of liquid carbon dioxide, the kind of stuff you would find inside of a fire extinguisher. He meant to coat his father in the stuff, cutting off his flaming arms from the air which would of fueled them. Science and experience said that depriving the flames of oxygen would smother them, and yet these flames very well might be beyond even such a scope.

He was spent, there would be no more magic this day, but he still stood, his limbs losing their hardened ice, and simply leaving him soaked and naked. He raised up both of his arms, and crouched, keeping his face and body as protected as he could. If he had managed to snuff his father’s flame for even a moment he would step towards the man. Aiming to stomp weakly down on the emperor’s foot, before shoving his destroyed right arm against his chest. Shoving him, and pushing his head against his father as if he was trying to push the man over by his head alone. There wasn’t much he could do with his arms anymore anyway. His offense was weak, and child like. He had no more tricks up his sleeve. However he wouldn’t give up. He would make the old man proud of him, even if it meant that Mesi would snap his own sons neck. He would die on his feet. His tone was weak, but it had a kind of iron in it that might make his father proud. “I won’t give up. I’ll never stop fighting.”

Whether anything he had done was successful was yet to be seen. What was obvious is that he was at his last bit of health. He should of been passed out, but he refused to give up. No matter the cost, no matter his own stupidity, Sune had never given up. Even if his father thought the display before him, of trying to continue the fight was pathetic, as he weakly bashed his head against the larger mans chest. His body and mind might be weak, but he was no longer the same foolish boy who’d taken the ring. Even if his father deemed him unfit to live and killed him right there, Sune would stand til his last and die a man before his family.

[Mesiphidon]

The crowds were wild after the second explosion, a moment of silence as everyone stared waiting to see what happened as the flames cleared. Mouths agape as the ring itself had tremored from the impact. As Sune lay there for what seemed an eternity unmoving everyone waited with baited breath. And as he finally moved, staggering to his feet he did so with the cheers of the crowd. A few even had tears in their eyes, having believed for a moment they had lost their Prince to the Emperor’s ferocity.

But unlike his usual tactics, Mesiphidon stood waiting. He had pulled his next punches knowing full well another assault would have ended his son. And even if the Trial’s demanded it, the Emperor would have damned them. He would push his son to his limits and beyond, but killing him was out of the question. The crowd seemed to wait along with the Emperor, his head tilting slightly wondering what Sune was going to do. And then it became obvious, he had learned. Even before Sune’s effects could be seen and felt the ghost of a smile dances across Mesiphidon’s lips. He knew the signs, knew what the subtle shift meant. Sune’ere had in the heat of it all realized the next step in his advancement.

The flames along Mesiphidon’s arms waivered as the created effect of Sune’s Force Reactive Casting assaulted the blaze. The natural fires from the heat died out along his arms before the Emperor needed to fuel them with his Core Magi. But as Sune stumbled towards him, his fists opened, the molten heat ebbing away as he released it. He simply let Sune stomp on his foot and head-butt his chest. There was hardly any force behind it, he might as well had been standing against a stiff breeze.

With all eyes on them, they wondered what was happening, why had the Emperor stopped. But instead of continuing the fight Mesiphidon’s arms wrapped around his son and pulled him into a hug. ”That’s enough, it’s over. You proved yourself to everyone. And to me.” When he crowd realized the fight was in fact over, and the Emperor had taken Sune in a fatherly embrace they cheered even more then when his arm had been ruined. ”You did well, I am proud of you.” The words were whispered, meant for Sune alone as he took a moment to grab Sune’s left arm and pop he shoulder back in place.

The Emperor took in the heat and lingering blaze before he lowered the rings outer shield in order to keep the people from harm from what would have felt like sticking their head in a blast furnace. Another gesture had a pair in white robes rushing to the ring with a wheel chair. Mesiphidon wouldn’t dare assault his son’s honor with calling for a stretcher. After the embrace he took Sune’s still somewhat good arm and raised it above his head. ”Celesin, today you witnessed a sacred trial. Sune’ere Dra’sen has proved beyond all doubt that he is Fir’an, that within him beats the heart and will of a warrior. Never wavering, knowing no defeat and holding the courage to stand tall even in the face of impossible odds.” His voice carried across the crowds, echoed through the city and boomed even over the thunder of cheers and cries.
From the ring to the edge of Lu’rae itself the people spoke ‘Sune’ere Dra’sen’. As the Priests finally showed ring side, Mesiphidon let Sune’s arm fall, and of all things ruffled the boys singed white hair. ”Go get treated, you still have a party and a woman to attend to.” Rather or not Sune decided to take the wheel chair or attempt to walk the distance on his own. No one would fault him.

At last Mesiphidon’s attention returned to the dias, where his beloved seemed to be oblivious as Rose seemed to be in shock. Her water had broke, the baby was coming. While Mesiphidon should have addressed the crowd again, he dashed to Esarhaddon’s side, kneeling down in order to scoop her into his arm. ”Sune isn’t the only one who needs to see the Priests, my love I believe it is about time for her to arrive.” The last words even managed to break his mask as a smile crept along his lips. It was an odd mix with his brows creased in worry.

[Sune]

Sune’ere never gave up, and when his fathers no longer molten arms wrapped around him he would just stand there, waiting for a moment for the man to snap his neck. When it didn’t come and the words he spoke instead he started to smile and buried his head against his father's chest. It felt like forever being there, with the words meant for only him making him swell with pride. He never won a single fight here, but he hadn’t been expected to. He made his dents and proved to everyone else that he was capable of advancing. “Thanks dad.” He was quiet, and clearly exhausted. “Maybe next time I’ll bloody you a bit, heh.” As his father popped his useful arm back into the socket, he would groan in pain, but start chuckling a bit at his own words. He was beaten that was sure, but like his Father said he was not broken. As he progressed in his own training and became better, he would insist on more challenges against his father. He may never become a Primoris like his sister and older brother, but that didn’t mean he would stop below them when it came to training. Even if he perpetually stayed a branchless grunt, he would never stop training, not until he could match his own father in single combat. The Primoris would be milestones as he grew, their power marking huge shots in his own growth, but his end goal was to be a warrior of such renown that they spoke his name alongside his father's.

His father's words rang out through out everyone present, and it made him swell with pride even if he had barely enough energy to stand. Everyone else seemed so proud of him, after all he’d entered the ring with not one or two, but three of their best warriors. He walked out alive with nothing but his wits and skills. No guns, and a healthy understanding that the simple tricks of his youth simply wouldn’t be applicable in most combat with him anymore. As his father called for a priest and wheel chair he nodded, and even watched as he zoomed off to his wife's side. He could understand the necessity, and looked forward to whatever news they would bring to him.

With the wheelchair now near him and the priests helping him in he would let his head lay back and let his limbs rest. It felt like he had been months inside of the ring. If it had been an hour he’d of been lucky. Finally he could rest his body. He would need to train, to overcome whatever plans his sister had for him in the coming days. But for now he had some words from his father. He still had a party to attend as the man of the hour, and a woman who was probably going to be in hysterics. The peace and quiet would do him good for now, that was for sure as the priests carted him off to wherever they treated wounded princes who decided fighting their dad was a good idea. Hopefully his older brother wouldn’t be upset that he’d completely skipped a chance to spar with him.

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