Chapter Nine (End of Volume One)

- CHAPTER NINE -

"Wipe that damn smirk off your face!" 

Vientus demands that Crassitus stop his premature gloating.

"You big tease, don't pretend like we don't have this in the bag." 

Crassitus reasons back, smiling smugly and allowing his face to rest with bedroom eyes at him.

"The Guardian chore is essentially ours as it is, we really don't even need to find out who the others will be, we're all here, Digeto aside. "

Crassitus softly speaks.

Crulox looks up from his seat, hearing his sister's name wakes him from his dormant floor-staring. He walks over into Crassitus' space and breathes down his forehead at him.

"We wait until Digeto gets here to continue." 

Huffing passed Crassitus, Crulox goes to the entryway of the victor's barracks to watch the ongoing Digeto fight.

Vientus leans cross-armed against the back wall, formulating the next move his personal troop of fighters will make. Having put the time and effort into making sure his allies stand there with him atop the stack of contenders in all of the kingdom, he has no time to sit idly and be glad it's all going as planned. His fortitude to be the best pushes at his back to continue fighting further and further.

Vientus, Crassitus, Crulox, Digeto, and Armasitis are the 5 victors currently who are of Noble birth, the rest of the winning sort, he feels are lucky to be standing with them.

"Hm. well after Di then I'd put my money on the greatest love, easily."

 Crassitus waves his head to the side. 

Armasitis shoots a concerned and confused look around the room.

"What the hell does he mean?" 

He questions.

Vientus uncrosses his arms and pulls out a list of the fighters in the tournament, marked with scratches of losing fighters and circled with his few allies in the rankings.

"He means Filovis, and yes, my money's on her taking a spot as well."

Vientus doesn't mark her as an ally on his sheet, but he does put a mark beside her name as if to be looked further into.

Crulox's eyes are dipped into the sunlight just outside the entrance, he watches closely as his sister beats her opponent needlessly as they are on the ground. Crulox's face reddens with pride and excitement, a look very few get to see, but one he'll gladly wear for his sister.

His body pours out a passionate action to exclaim Digeto's victory, he can't stand still for a moment longer as he runs out to pick her up. She runs a foot or two to meet him, jumping into his arms. They spin and twirl a moment in joy, the pairing slows and stiffly Crulox puts her down, and they walk over into the Victor Hall.

"And there we have it, folks! Digeto is victorious! She joins her… much loving older brother Crulox and a slew of other heroes-to-be in the Hall of Victors!"

The announcer and crowd do what they can to not aggravate the couple by pointing out the odd behaviour of the Brother-Sister pair. They only cheer on and praise the victory, hopeful of the strength of these young competitors.

The announcer reels back and lets out a burst of excitement.

"Woo! Okay, Regnus! It's been one hell of a day today! And it only gets better as we come to our final matchup, a true Finale for the Ages! "

The crowd grows just as thrilled for the upcoming fight because it's finally time to see the town's darling daughter. The announcer relays for them the overjoy he and they feel as he announces the day's concluding and ultimate combat.

"Your admired and esteemed Miss! The glowing, dazzling, exemplary and powerful...Filovis!"

His voice carries her name across Regnus, promising beauty and dominance by a fury of fighting will in the form of the Young Lady in Waiting, Filovis.

She steps onto the battlefield and the crowd does nothing to hold back its hollers and whoops, whistles, and blaring flurries of "Filovis!", and well-wishes of love and clamour. Stepping to the center of the arena, she bows herself to their praise, all the while making no muscle move on her face. Filovis is here and battle-ready but has hate for her fame.

Filovis feels that her beauty and family lineage give her an advantage she's never wanted or used for her fighting acumen. She has forged her own way, pushing aside the family and friends she's been offered, wanting to escape the ideals her ancestry fuses with her being. She is graceful in the face of not wanting to ruin what her parents gifted her, bowing and allowing them to associate her with her wealth and fortune as the daughter of the greater nobility. She bows and accepts their noise, patiently biding her time until she can fight and become her own form.

Quieting after minutes of acclaim, the crowd around the arena settles and waits to see who she'll get to defeat. In a mysterious fashion, the announcer doubly peers at the paper and reads over the information again. He shakily reads the name of the next contender but looks up to the King's seat for verification of permission. He says the name and only hopes they are not his last words.

"The next fighter… goes by the name… Lamir…" 

Slowly, unconfidently, and ashamedly the Announcer speaks the name of the previous King, the fallen monarch, Maloin's Father. 

The crowd hushes and all look towards the King. He sits up from his leisurely slouch.

D'tera rushes up to his side, kneeling at the right of his throne, she whispers to him so as not to alarm anyone else.

"Sire, we never had any record of any other Lamir named in the registry or in the Kingdom reaches."

King Maloin's head twitches to the right, he wears a closed mouth, teeth-gritting anger on the surface. Nodding his head slightly towards D'tera, calling for her to speak with him away from gazing eyes. They retire into the curtained doors off of the balcony to speak privately. The crowd doesn't know what to think or do, so they return over to the arena where a confused Filovis stands.

"What the hell kind of joke is someone playing on our King that they'd register as deceased sovereignty." 

She thinks to herself, scanning the arena to watch the surrounding congregation's horror.

All eyes meet a man, sauntering onto the grounds, he looks decrepit and is shaggily clothed. He labours his cryptic and fragile form to the centre of the grounds to meet Filovis. She accommodates his tall hunched stature to meet and inspect his covered face.

He stoops lower as he breathes a weighty exhale.

"Charmed. Filovis." 

Nearly humming his words out. Filovis registers his words a second late, taken aback by everything he is at this moment.

"Do you think it amusing to torment the King? Branding yourself as his fallen Father?"

Filovis tries not to spit on him. 

Lamir has to dip his head to swing momentum enough to gawk up to the King's balcony.

"Am I the one making fun of the King?" 

Hardly asking the question.

"Hm, well no matter, it won't take too long for them to decide your fate of removal from the tournament and Kingdom. " 

Filovis asserts.

"Will they though…" 

He retorts. Not taking a second to look away from the balcony.

Inside the giant doors are the King and D'tera discussing the meaning of this arrival.

"Surely it's some sick joke, I apologize that this has happened!" 

D'tera takes to the ground to grovel at her Highnesses feet.

"D'tera, get up! You'll do no good down there." 

Maloin grabs her up and looks into her eyes.

"You said we have no registry of him in Regnus, correct? So he must be from outside the Kingdom and have knowledge of our affairs."

D'tera grimaces at the notion and confirms for him that he must be someone sent from outside the kingdom to shake up the already unformed regime.

"He knows about your Father's death and our weakened state, sent by someone who would know exactly how to get at you. Do you have any idea who has the knowledge and power to make these types of moves?"

D'tera stares into his eyes.

Maloin stills in a stupefying frame, racking his brain for any impression of vile activity against him. Coming to only one conclusion about his Father's death.

"He hasn't made any moves to truly shake up our house, perhaps he is a misunderstood and mistaken outsider. Please, bring him here."

King Maloin decides to meet the man. 

D'tera is still embraced by Maloin, only broken by this statement and her abrupt and forceful nudge.

"Maloin! You can't be serious?"

She waves her hand to the side.

"I am. I want to see this boy." 

Maloin affirms his order.

D'tera stands static and immovable, wondering what possesses her King to make such a demand, choosing to trust his better judgement that he will know what to do. She bows her head and leaves the room.

Entering from a lower door to the arena, D'tera walks onto the grounds and hushes the crowd with her presence alone.

"Lamir, was it? The King would like to meet you before your match."

D'tera's tone is anything but welcoming.

He turns to face Filovis, but his intent is unknown as the wrappings around his face mask any sentiment from him. But she can only feel as if he grins her way.

"Until we fight then." 

He hovers past Filovis to be led by D'tera.

"For now, remain here and await the King's orders." 

She places her hand on Filovis' shoulder, comforting the racing thoughts.

Filovis nods her head and sits down, crossing her legs and emptying her head of the drudge of the events.

Ahead of D'tera, Lamir nearly walks into every room down the short hall at her behest.

"No, you're just going up the steps." 

Holding his shoulder to march on forward.

"Apologies."

She warns him not to do anything of the sort again.

"Don't do anything funny."

"Wouldn't dream of it." 

He replies instantly, nearly cutting her off.

D'tera bites her tongue so as not to violently rebuke.

They walk up the hall and staircase with no further distractions. 

Entering the King's room now, she pushes him slightly forward towards the King. He stops short of him and takes a knee.

"I'm honoured, King"

Lamir slightly bows his head.

D'tera has had enough of his tone and attitude, she strikes his back.

"King Maloin! His full name is King Maloin, Son of Lamir."

His head bounces up.

Maloin looks to D'tera and nods.

"Lamir?...So my parents weren't crazy after all." 

Lamir sounds almost happy for a moment.

D'tera walks over to the front of him and kneels to meet his head.

"Your parents? You mean you're telling me your name is actually Lamir?"

D'tera tries to meet his bowed eyes.

He looks her in the eyes now. He slowly reaches for his face. D'tera reacts abrasively and snatches his wrists.

He only says "Please."

Maloin turns and walks away a pace.

"Let him."

Monotonously. 

D'tera lets go of his hand and he continues to touch his face, finding the seam of a wrap. He pulls away at one of them and the cloth begins to loosen. D'tera stands up and holds her hand to her side, hovering above a dagger she carries. More and more the colour of his skin shows through from underneath the wraps, he noticeably takes in a deep breath before the final masking cloth comes off of his face, and coughs directly towards D'tera.

"Deeply sorry! It gets incredibly hard to breathe in that!"

Lamir hacks away.

D'tera rebounds to strike him across the face, raising her arm to backhand the boy, but is stopped by Maloin.

"Don't. It was an accident,"

He lets her hand go and slowly comes in closer to examine his face.

"As is all of this."

D'tera looks at her King bewildered.

"He is no one of consequence. He's just a boy from afar, presumably named after the King Lamir by his parents."

Maloin becomes sure of his background.

D'tera questions her King.

"How can you be so sure?"

"He bears the cloth of Alerra but has the face of Regnus blood."

Maloin grabs his face and picks apart the cloth at the sides of his face.

"This here, it's only woven deep inland of the old Alerran cities. "

Maloin shows off the cloth beside his face. 

Lamir smiles.

"Your parents, they were originally from Regnus were they not?"

Maloin looks into his eyes.

"Yes, my father was a farmer of this land in his young age. His family and he moved from the outlands to the Alerran country. He met my mother, a true Alerran, and fathered me until months ago when he passed. That was when I decided to come to his homeland and live as he should have, in service of your highness."

Lamir fills in his past.

D'tera scoffs.

Maloin smiles.

"They named me Lamir after the young prince of the time of my father's leaving. Apparently, they were close in some regards, so he wanted his son to be named after a great man who he knew would one day become a great King."

Lamir nods his head to King Maloin.

Maloin picks him up from his kneel and chuckles.

"And a great King he became. I like you, young man, you tell tales of my father's younger exploits, something I haven't even heard myself, his son!"

Maloin heartily laughs.

Lamir shies into himself and wriggles nervously.

"Aha, I guess I did come abruptly though and have caused you some worry? I was devastated that I couldn't meet the real Lamir in time." 

He lowers his head to face the King.

"I wanted to be sure I would get no trouble on my way here, thus the coverings and the fighter's garb of my master.

Maloin quiets and sighs, 

"Yes, of course, I understand. I'm sorry as well, he would've liked you too, I am sure of it. And I'm glad we could clear this up, I hope you're sent with worthy skills from this master of yours. You'll meet much opposition in trying to get to a place to be of service to myself. "

Gesturing around the room and extendedly to the Kingdom of Regnus

D'tera all the while is off to the side, trying not to bite through her lip.

"Well sire, you've met the young man, shall we return him to the tournament?"

She tries to rush this meeting along. 

King Maloin resumes his regality, affirming the young man with a nudge to his shoulder.

"Yes, apologies, I don't want to keep you, you should go off and try your way to the Guards. I look forward to it."

D'tera directs him to the door and he begins covering his face up again, smiling just before his mouth can be covered. D'tera leans in close to him and wishes him spitefully on his way.

"Good luck, your fight will truly be a showcase for all, a finale of Ages I hear."

He only walks away and down the stairs.

"Yes."

He whispers.

D'tera then walks in close to the King back in the room.

"Do you think he's telling the truth?"

"I don't know what to think. For now, we'll only watch and see how he handles himself."

Maloin rubs his chin.

D'tera closes the door behind the guard and speaks out to the King confidently

"Well, he's facing someone I've trained myself, I have no reservations about his loss."

"Right." 

The King opens the doors to the Balcony and opens up as if to hug the crowd.

"Regnus! We are joined by a man named for the sake of my Father! He should prove to be a formidable opponent to our own Filovis.

Filovis breaks her statuesque form and leans her head forward, letting her scarlet locks waterfall past her shoulders. Tapering her fingers along them, she finds 3 groups of strands and quickly interweaves them, creating an entwined whip of hair. The crowd can see a marginal amount of the activity but is awed when she stands up.

Filovis fashions her hair into a dagger-tipped whip. Standing up to face her opponent, she leans her head to one side, and with undetectable speed, her hair was lashed around and she now holds her dagger in her hand, loosening the hair at the end to give some length behind her.

Lamir exits from the Hall and steps into the ring, as slow and macabre as before, he stands off with Filovis from the ring's edge. The announcer looks to the King for confirmation of the match's continuation. Maloin nods and raises his hand to say it's okay.

The announcer picks up his papers again and re-announces the contestants.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! The match between Filovis and Lamir will continue! Reset to your sides and wait for my call."

Filovis doesn't take her eyes off Lamir, and Lamir does the same. They both sidestep their way to the edges of the arena. Facing front when they've made it. Both nod to him that they're ready.

"The Final fight of the day! Go!"

In a storm of kicked-up sand from Lamir's weapon of choice, his staff, the match is started with a blinding and powerful gust. Through the waves of shale stone, a dagger rips through the cloud, it's deflected with precision by the end of Lamir's staff. 

Filovis is following close to her dagger and she snakes it from the air to redirect it, again at Lamir. He can't deflect this one in time and it hits his shoulder, tearing at the cloth, and reddening from the cut. Filovis twitches her head and the dagger soars back to her. Lamir lowers himself for a moment and takes a stance of defence. 

Filovis takes the opportunity to lunge at him, throwing the dagger towards his blocking staff, aiming to wrap around the instrument to pull it away from him. Lamir expected this and prepared a counterattack, lowering the staff and himself to the ground, impossibly bending his legs inward and launching himself as a frog kicks. He speeds above and behind Filovis, taking a full swing back to strike the back of her head.

Filovis is surprised momentarily, but it only takes a fluttering movement to have her dagger lashed back to her hand, where she meets his staff and redirects it to the side, flipping him around with momentum. Lamir lands and huffs sharply, quickly using a similar lunge attack by bending his legs nearly animalistic. At high speeds, he flings himself across Filovis' face, able to scratch her with his staff's end. Filovis steps back and composes herself for a moment.

She wipes her cheek of the blood and tapers her fingers along to her dagger, the blood being hidden in her taught red whip of hair. 

Taking hold of her dagger, she stares down in front of her to see what she thinks must be a grinning Lamir. Standing off again, Lamir and Filovis both inhale deeply. 

In a flash of strikes, the two meet their respective weapons at multiple points across the ground before them, none making any headway to their own victory. Lamir decides to stop for a moment and really look at Filovis, turning his head sideways and around again to give her a look from all perspectives, like a bird eyeing its prey.

"Filovis...You're an artist, aren't you?"

Lamir slyly calls out. 

Filovis stops and her eyes widen.

"How would yo-"

"Your forearm tells me it likes to dance. When you strike, it's never a stabbing motion, it's graceful and swimmingly. You don't have a warrior's form originally." 

Lamir points out his study of her fighting style. 

Filovis eases her body as if all stress and adrenaline were wiped clean away from her body, she feels a momentary peace. Lamir slowly walks over to her.

"You don't want to fight, you want to… be free."

Lamir whispers quietly, slowly stepping over to Filovis. 

Filovis lets her hair and dagger go, falling to her backside. Lamir holds her shoulders and places his face in front of her. She breathes in slowly and a haze comes over her eyes, a purple mist clouds around her. More prominent than before, she showcases a peace unlike herself.

"I want to be free… no more fighting."

She mumbles lightly out of her mouth.

And Lamir goes over to her ear and whispers softly.

"That's it, child… you can go now, I will free you from this plane."

D'tera grows unnerved at the behaviour, believing the fight has come to too much of a standstill. She looks over the fight and sees Filovis standing perfectly still in the face of her enemy, something she knows she has drilled into her head not to let happen. D'tera knows something is amiss. She can't rightly jump into the ring and cause a scene, so she does the next best thing. D'tera raises both arms behind her back and takes hold of her enormous blade, letting out the roar of a mother protecting its cubs; she cheers Filovis' name to add to the already clamouring crowd. 

"FILOVIS!" 

Slamming her heavy steel into the concrete railing of the balcony, cracking through a foot of the beautiful craftwork, startling even the King. 

"You're not going to let him get the better of you, are you!?" 

D'tera desperately expects her student to surpass whatever is wrong with the fight.

During all this trouble, inside Filovis' head is a sequence of playful tampering. Lamir is drifting through these waves of memories inside her head, not doing anything dangerous or violent, he simply watches them and Filovis can only stand there and watch him laugh at her past.

She imagines Lamir is laughing at everything she's ever done to try and become a person of her own will not of her parents. Filovis cries out for him to stop.

"No! please, I'm doing my best!"

Lamir then slashes away at a memory, a young and smiling Filovis washes away into a black abyss, whisked away by Lamir's staff. Filovis reverts to that same young girl and cries out, hands down by her side mirroring her form outside her mind when she starts to hear echoes of roaring cheer. Deep within these sounds, she can feel the words of D'tera reaching her. Lamir searches the dark to find the cause, and on the outside, Lamir slowly begins to turn his head up towards the balcony. He sneers in annoyance.

D'tera beckons Filovis back into the fight to no avail, but below, further below than the fight and inside of her mind, Filovis searches for D'tera's voice. 

Lamir scurries and swings his Staff around the waves of memories in her head. Filovis is able to grab a strand of a milky white memory, by connecting with it, she starts to visualize that her fight hasn't been normal. The original dust storm that Lamir caused was a hazy purple just like the colour of her eyes currently. 

Lamir is fighting using a mind-altering device, likely a poisoned cloud to sway the fighting nature of Filovis to a dulled peaceful one. Filovis snags the strand of memory and wraps it around her fist, pulling at it as if it were a heavy weight. Ripping at the weight with all of her might, she strains and screams a battle cry that seems to frighten Lamir.

Outside, Lamir is still in the middle of his sneering glare and he is readying a wide swing at the still Filovis. When he grunts in frustration to throw his staff into Filovis' cheek, her eyes uncloud and she wakes. 

With incredible speed, Filovis throws her dagger whip from behind her like a scorpion tail and strikes the wide-open Lamir. Stabbing deep into his chest, he lets go of his attack and begins to fall backwards from the surprise and blow to his chest, Filovis won't let him go so easily. She reels back her hair and takes hold of it, still seemingly sped up and in fighting form, she snags his staff from the air and stabs into it with her dagger. Cracking into a hidden canister of purple dust. revealing the secret to all of the fighters, viewers and the King.

Everything stops as the surrounding Kingdom witnesses the takedown. Vientus and his allies stand upright, taking form and ready to jump in at any moment. Vicadum shakes his head clear just in time to see Filovis mounting the falling Lamir in mid-air. The King juts upwards, grasping at the balcony's edge.

Filovis jumps onto Lamir on the ground, holding her dagger to his throat. D'tera rips her blade from the stone banister and jumps down onto the grounds. 

Filovis looks down at him and he grunts and fusses about, struggling to break free. She looks him up and down and notices something strange by his chest wound. She holds the dagger closer against his neck and pulls away at his chest wrappings where she struck him. Pulling away at a cut band of cloth, she is confused at what she's seeing there, it appears to her as if it's simply hollow. Inside the cut, where there should be a body, or blood in the least, is nothing. Further looked into, its as if she can see the same cloth wrapping on the back half of him. She looks up at his face and mask and is about to ask what trickery he's playing at when she is suddenly kicked from behind her.

Lamir kicks up behind her, connecting with the back of her head. D'tera witnesses Lamir's leg reeling from the kick and sees its shape being inhuman. She throws her blade with a full three-sixty-degree spin, sending it racing toward him. He looks over and bends his legs back and down to be able to duck underneath it, he breathes onto the blade as it flies above him. The wall behind them is smashed into by the blade, but quickly it begins to disintegrate. Filovis recovers from the blow to the head and turns to face the now upright Lamir.

Standing in between Filovis and D'tera, centre stage of the entire Kingdom of Regnus, Lamir looks up to the balcony of the King and begins to uncover his face wrappings. Slowly the skin begins to show and the same man that showed himself to the King and D'tera before stands there, but he then continues to unwrap, showing the flesh of his neck is purple and rotting away. Underneath the tight wrappings, springs free an unsightly horde of flies. They fly away from Lamir and disperse throughout the area above the Arena.

The crowd around gasps in tandem with one another, and it's suddenly as if the area reeks of dead animals and old mouldy food. In the wall of the arena where the sword is stuck into the wall, the thick blade is completely eaten away, leaving only a clanging hilt to fall to the ground. The hilt sizzles and bubbles heavy metallic gurgles.

Using the distraction of the hilt, and having D'tera behind him look away to it, he tries to jump up and over her, making it just above her when Filovis' whip strikes his back, exposing more of his hollow form. He lands behind D'tera now, weakened but still agile enough to pull a tiny dagger on her. Holding D'tera at her throat and ready to plunge the knife into the back of her neck, no one moves and Filovis is forced to lower herself.

"What the hell are you doing?! Kill this filth!" D'tera orders a cautious Filovis.

"I can't. He's going to dig that dagger into your skull before I can safely get you out of this."

Filovis warns her.

"Ho ho! She's right you know, I am going to rip through your skull!"

Lamir enjoys his current position of power, unable to be attacked and ready to kill probably the most formidable soldier in the Kingdom.

D'tera doesn't like the odds, she knows that Filovis can take him, but won't make a move unless she's out of the way and in a safe position. Filovis edges closer to her hostage master and Lamir, but he is all too ready to stab into her and slightly pushes the tip into her flesh, beads of red begin to form. D'tera is perfectly still, taking deep breaths and letting the situation flow through her mind, in here she can see every possible path the fight may go. She is resolute in her choice of the best possible path.

D'tera puts her hands forward, showing she has no weapons on her, and she starts to speak to Lamir.

"Listen, you're not making it out of this without taking any damage, trust me, but you can lessen your pain if you stop this right now!"

D'tera uses her eyes to point Filovis in a direction above her head. Off to the right, she looks to her and back again to tell her she needs to attack this location. Filovis understands that her master is going to take this risk.

"Lessen my pain? Foolish! The only thing stopping here will be your life!"

He goes to thrust the blade in, but doing so he pulls it away to ready his thrust, and D'tera capitalizes on this moment and ducks off to the side, taking a small slash to the back of her neck. Filovis acts quickly and throws her Daggerwhip at the spot D'tera marked, and at the same time, D'tera pulls loose a hidden dagger she nearly threatened Lamir with before in the King's chamber. Both of them throw in the direction of Lamir's head. He barks in anger, grunting and backing away in a rush to escape the arena, but as he goes to turn around, Filovis' dagger snags onto the back of his head, and simultaneously D'tera's dagger pierces through Lamir's nose.

The scene quickly becomes horrific as Lamir is pinned with the daggers embedded through his skin and into the stone wall. The crowd surrounding gathers to the edges of the seating area, all wanting to see what happens next. Lamir is trapped against the wall but still wriggles to try and escape. D'tera calls to the King and asks permission to kill Lamir where he stands.

"Sire, Can I finally destroy this filth? He came here uninvited from a distant land, toting a poisonous gas that he successfully administered to a fighter from your kingdom, and was still yet concealing another weapon on his person. More than enough to administer a killing decree."

D'tera props her hand against Lamir's head, ready to and likely to beat him to death. Filovis is stood close behind her, also waiting for an order of what to do. The King stands tall and says that he shall die.

"Very well, you may kill him. But I will have an answer for why you've come here. Answer us now, and your death will be merciless."

D'tera grits her teeth and pushes harder against his head.

Filovis looks up to her king, slightly saddened as she doesn't enjoy killing, but knows it's her duty. Reluctant to deal a killing blow, she begs Lamir.

"Please, tell us what you're doing here, and we can end this."

Lamir breathes and spits through his teeth, fiercely writhing around until he hears her speak. He suddenly stills his body and darts his eyes over to her.

"Child...I am here for you-"

His eyes slowly cast over the surrounding arena as far as his eyes can roll.

"... for all of you. This Kingdom needs its proper king."

Maloin shakes at the words. D'tera and Filovis both widen their eyes in surprise. Angry and confused, Maloin throws his hand down to order his immediate death.

"That's enough!" 

The die is cast and D'tera looks over to Filovis as she pushes his head into the wall and carries her weight back a step to fully be able to pitch her fist into the side of his face. Filovis stands there, ready for her strike to loosen the hold her dagger has on Lamir's head. Lamir closes his eyes and exhales.

D'tera connects her imposing fist to the flesh of his face, crushing it into the coarse stone of the Arena wall. The stench reaches evidently from the impact and some flesh is thrown outwards.

Spectators are panicked and shaken, Filovis primes herself again.

Lamir slips out of the hold of the two daggers. The flesh that was caught is left limp and tattered as the mysterious form dips beneath D'tera and Filovis. At this moment, gasps and screams are heard, clanging metal of swords readying for combat and the tearing of the Alerran cloth.

The shreds of dirty white threads fall to the ground, the outline once filling them is unseen.

A shrieking metal chink is heard above the crowd, a dagger lands in the stone banister just before King Maloin. Mere inches from reaching his chest, the dagger was sent flying from an unknown location into the stone railing, and the thrower is as invisible as if he never even existed.

Night chases the falling sun, and everyone of importance is gathered in the King's hall. In the centre of a marble table is piled the flesh of the face that the mysterious assassin wore. Victors of the tournament and other nobility stand around nearing the entrance of the long room, lined up and ready to hear a briefing of the day's events. King Maloin is dived into an endless thought, and D'tera stands firm with another colossal sword strapped to her back. 

Fires decorate the walls in increments around the hall lanterns positioned throughout. Everyone awaits the silence to be broken.

Finally, after some time, the King rises and smiles.

"Victors! Congratulations. You'll surely become amazing and powerful heroes for your Kingdom. I applaud your fiery wills."

D'tera shoots him a baffled look, everyone else sharing in the feeling.

Walking over to whisper to him quickly.

"Sire, aren't you going to address the assassin?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes! Glad I didn't get taken by the mysterious Alerran attacker!"

Maloin happily reports.

Vientus steps forward and takes a knee.

"Sire, what happened today? Surely we have to prepare for war with the Alerrans?"

"War? With the whole country? This was the act of a solemn individual, an individual who failed as well. Why would we wage blood in the face of a sad attempt at my life of one man." 

Maloin is now at the foot of the table where the face is lumped, lifting a side of the table to let it slide onto the floor.

"But-"

Maloin looks down at the mass of flesh.

"We are not going to go to war over this!"

Maloin had prepared every single word of this conversation, so thinks D'tera and Filovis. It's no small happenstance that he is trying to tuck away this incident.

"And I will hear nothing further of this."

The room goes silent and the victors stand back at attention, awaiting their further orders. D'tera stands tall again accepting her King's order, and Filovis stands slightly ajar, looking intently at the fleshy mass. Something isn't right with all of this, and this tells her it's only just beginning.

-END OF VOLUME ONE-