CHPT 499: Embers Remain

It was Isaac's first time leading a team in a real way, and it was on the worlds greatest stage. AND he got canned in his first serious battle. Him and his team. They won because of Ursula's ice cold fury. But that ran out.

The two muscle heads carried their wounded friends to cover and watched the light show. There were no available Healers. The Chosen heroes in battle needed all the recovery they could manage. Donna climbed up onto one of the giants and poured her foul ale into its mouth until it was so drunk it couldn't stand. From there Chase stomped it's head into a paste while shooting arrows at the monsters on the outskirts. Each shot sounded like a cannon blast as it smashed into buildings.

Kali's Chosen— the little girl with twin blades, sprouted four arms and turned into a blade storm of death and destruction. She flew across the battlefield in a wave of sanded crystalline chaos called forth by Tufani. They had a synergy beyond fellow combatants. It was like the gods above them called for a coordination. Their God Forms glowed like stars in the dark pit and where they stood the world reverberated, telling auditory stories of their power better heard by Vampires.

But Isaac heard it. Hell, he saw it.

There was no shame.

Most of the other first years died before they hit the ocean. Many more were worn down by stronger student attacks. The sheer radius and intensity of the elements in the ocean. Isaac watched students fry under water like chickens in a deep fryer. Others left sinking, mangled and twisted up in their own armors from Water Element users unaware of how much control they had over the environment.

And then the conclusion.

Isaac and his friends hidden in a broken down armory, leaned up against weapons racks and boxes filled with old world bullets.

Again, no shame. They had no chance.

He'd leave it to Claude to rage at idealistic impossibilities. Not that he felt nothing. More than anything it sucked that he and his team couldn't show the world their style. Their brutal finesse. Their Impressionism of character and endurance. They paint a good picture. His father would've liked it.

"Next time." Isaac shut his eyes as the last Monster fell. He never moved from his spot laying over Maris and Warren. Not even when the ground began to rise and the surface world welcomed them in an ensemble of roars and screams with enough conflicting emotion to wake the dead. Based on the loudness, the Sunlands had the most standing combatants. If there was a winner it was them. Normality had returned.

Event over.

Reality set in with a vengeance.

***

"[Claude you must relax.]"

"….."

"[I understand your friends are in less than favorable health currently, but you also had a plan to rupture Samuel and Bengals calm. To force a misstep in the Remus agenda….? Ringing a bell?]"

"Rupont said exposing Samuel would have a negative impact on all Lupines regardless of subgroups."

"[Oh! We're putting our faith in Rupont….? The possibly Elder Vampire?]"

"No... "

"[Well bloody hell, it sure sounded that way.]"

Arne's voice fell to the background in the chaos of the massive Emergency Recovery Room. Healers and their teams of Doctors and Nurses worked to save some of the worse of students who weren't stabilizing. Others were well off, conversing with their bedmates about the match.

Claude's skin buzzed with scents of blood and fear of death in the air. Even so it wasn't enough to make him reach across the room and rip apart the spoiled monster cursing out Nurses and Doctors in an entitled rage.

"IVE— I've been fine! Since YESTERDAY! And you all insist on keeping me locked up here! You wouldn't have had this many dead rejects if you let me participate." Samuel snarled, keeping a rag over his mouth to hide the obvious fangs.

Claude couldn't see him due to all the nurses and journalists surrounding him but he had a firm image in his mind. He was burning his image to the ground. Shedding his human appearance, metaphorically.

Something tugged at the black locks of hair on the side of his head.

He turned and found Ursula laying in her bed, holding his hair casually, flipping it through her fingers. He remembered her doing the same with the silver coin they won for killing their first HellBred Snake.

He could've assumed she was sleeping— in a daze, but then she opened her eyes. Honey gold rings like suns over cinnamon fields. Some people did freckles so much justice. Her tanned skin looked pale on the black sheets of the medical bed. The tubes in her arms and hands sending fluids fell out as she flexed with a yawn.

"Does he ever shut up?" She asked.

"I was going to ask that." Warren said as he sat up.

"FUCK!" Samuel snarled.

Warren jumped, "I mean— I probably wasn't. But it was definitely a though— OUCH! I don't want to remember how I ended up with tailbone pain like this."

"You got kicked in the ass." Maris replied without sitting up from her bed. She seemed to be pouting.

"[A show of emotion from the cold girl— wonderful!]"

"We all got kicked in the ass." Warren replied.

Ursula nodded sullenly, "I could've did way more. This is….. stupid."

"You mutilated and freeze fried a SkinWalker with a broken arm." Claude held her hand as she held his hair. She must not have remembered grabbing his hair, her surprise was tangible. But she didn't resist. He didn't expect her to.

She aimed her eyes at him. Looking down her button nose at him, "You know….. you know I didn't do enough. Don't pamper me."

"I don't pamper. You guys got worked. And I'm sorry I got banned from joining. I had no choice." Claude explained. Samuel yelled again and his pulse spiked. His partner in crime kept trying to talk to Tufani. Thankfully, Tufani didn't forget their fight and it's bizarreness.

As a result, Claude also knew one of their targets. An obvious guess.

Warren spoke up, "Don't worry about it, bro. We survived. We got to see something to aspire to. Everyone in their was our age. They weren't mythical badasses like Ronin or Red Vine….. like look at him." Warren pointed at Tufani.

Tufani raised an eyebrow at Warren.

"That dude looks like me…. LITERALLY! And he was walking inside of a sandstorm wearing armor made of sunlight. Anything is possible at this point... I just need to keep this same energy out there." Warren shrugged and scratched the nappy curls focused at the top of his head.

"That's the spirit, Warren. Bring us back!" Ursula laughed and bumped knuckles with Warren.

Claude smiled.

Fate didn't seem to think that was acceptable.

"There's nothing to smile about, Mutt! All of you, look at him." Samuel turned the journalists attention to Claude.

He faced them in his chair. His nostrils flared as they studied him. He did the same. He got more information than they could've. With his senses he practically had a direct look into their subconscious.

They were visibly— hormonally, uncomfortable.

For the first time in a long while, public favor was on his side.

Samuel noticed his misstep after he shut his mouth.

Claude stood up and the reporters took a step away in response to what they assumed was an upcoming fight. The Sunlandian Guards at the door feigned calmness as they gripped their weapons and clenched their jaws in their pyramid helmets. He could hear their teeth grind beneath the chattering Healers and groaning students.

"This is the best New Gloria has to offer. I'll show you what separates me from them." Samuel salvaged a bit of character resurrection.

The vulturous reporters jumped at the only one providing content as Claude turned back to his friends.

"He broke my sword." Maris said.

"We can get you a new one." Claude replied.

"We can?" Ursula said from beside him.

He looked down at her, "What do you think of dresses?"

"They make my ass look gigantic. I can't do roundhouse kicks in them. Are you asking me out on a date?" Ursula jokingly questioned.

Claude pressed a finger to his temple and she got her answer as he left momentarily.

Warren looked from him to her in shock. "Why aren't you smiling anymore?"

Ursula punched the bed, "Because…. THIS IS BULLSHIT!"