Round Two: (1) Blank v (9) Baneblades

[INDK]

(bunny of seeing the future approved by Rheawien)

Damon’s thoughts had only been on reuniting with Ashiakin when the lady had fallen off of the roof and ended up with her hands clutching his calf. From that point on, the boy had centered upon a singular focus, not getting the half elf from off his limb, but somehow willing his body up onto the roof, or at least saving himself from what would be a sharp fall down to the ground. The harness was supposed to protect him, but out of the corner of his eye, Damon could now see what the other Baneblade had done to Ashiakin’s lifeline. Eyes wide, Damon feared for the life of his partner as he squirmed to get free from his opponent, only suddenly feeling the sharp pain of the dagger as it sliced into his leg.

“Aaaaaaaaashi…” the boy screamed, unable to make out the full name of his partner as his hands gave way. The boy’s grip had already been growing more tenuous. Melted water from Ashiakin’s ice spell had made the ledge increasingly difficult to hold. Now, the dagger searing into his flesh was the final blow. Damon screamed again as he began to fall, fearful both for himself and his partner.

Still, though terrified, the eyes of Damon were not filled with hate. They were brimming with tears of disappointment, the pure black beginning to glimmer with the formation of his tears. The lady who had wounded him was now going to cut at his lifeline in a minute, the boy knew it for he saw it in a vision. The injuries he’d sustain from falling to the ground would be more than enough to end this battle, and that was something the boy knew his team could ill afford. If Ashiakin hadn’t survived, it would be up to Damon to make sure that he didn’t disappoint. Just like Ashiakin had saved him the last round, now it was up to Damon.

The boy steeled his resolve. Vehemently, Damon grabbed onto the first ledge he could get a hold of. It was three stories from the top of the pagoda, down far enough that he could no longer reach the roof easily but still more than fifteen feet up from the ground. Grateful for the fact that the stone ledge held him as he climbed up into the window, the boy fought back tears of pain and disappointment as he pulled himself up into the room by his stomach. He had lost sight of Ashiakin, and because of the guilt he felt at arriving late, Damon now had a predilection to think towards the worst. He didn't know whether or not Ashiakin had recovered, or even if the tether had been cut all the way through, but Damon's fears made him believe it. He would be on his own now. Damon knew he needed to maintain his determination. Not just Ashiakin, but all of Lornius was depending on it.

Once inside, Damon knew he couldn’t afford much more pause than a few seconds to catch his breath. His lungs now felt like they would explode from lack of oxygen and his right shin throbbed with pain, but the boy knew he could pause only just long enough to think up a new plan. Somehow though, before he continued, Damon knew that he would have to calm his mind. Otherwise, the boy knew he would be doomed to rash action with the thoughts of Ashiakin’s fall running vividly in his head.

“What would Ashiakin do at a time like this?” the boy thought, trying to imagine how his mentor would have overcome these problems if faced in a similar situation. Damon knew he wasn’t nearly as smart or experienced, but he hoped that the training he’d received before the first round would have taught him well. Even if he wasn’t a perfect student, the boy knew he had been blessed with an infallible mentor.

Suddenly, an idea struck the boy. A mischievous smile flashed across his face and for a moment, Damon completely forgot about the throbbing pain in his leg. He quickly slipped out of his harness and attached it to a torch fixed onto one of the stone walls. The boy figured that way that the Baneblades would still figure that he had remained in the room. The boy was going to run up back to the top as they came down to get him, and then he was going to sever both their cords.

The only question was, given how hurt and winded he had become, would Damon have been able to run back up the stairs in quick enough time. His leg, while not severely wounded, had been cut sharply and the boy had yet to have done anything to stop the bleeding. However, time was of the essence and he began to run, his heart keeping pace for his steps as it beat desperately like a drummer seeking to will an army to victory by the sound of the beats alone.

By the time the boy had managed up one set of stairs up to the next story, he was already too tired to press on. Caked in sweat, Damon slowed down but continued onwards, hoping somewhere desire would find a way to overcome his fatigue. However, now the boy’s shoulders had drooped and his straight hair clung to his sweat soaked face and there was an overriding thought inside the boy’s brain that the stone walls of the pagoda made its inside very cool. Still, he had to press on. The boy had no other choice.

However, the monk that had fit him with the harness had begun to come down the stairs. Damon looked at him with desperate eyes. “Please… you can heal me… do it now,” the boy begged, grabbing the monk by his robe in his desperation.

“I may not interfere,” the monk replied, evenly but not without sympathy. “Once the battle has started, it must reach its natural conclusion.”

“But- but Ashiakin needs to win!” Damon replied incredulously, as if the monk should have known that was obvious.

The monk smiled kindly but firmly. “Then you’ll have to make sure of that with your sword,” came the reply, as the monk emphasized the last word.

Damon was exasperated and let out a heavy sigh. “But…but don’t you want Ashiakin to win?” he asked, as if the answer should have been obvious. “He’ll become duke of Lornius, and everyone would be better off.”

Shaking his head, the monk still refused. While he wasn't without pity, the monk knew both that he was honor bound not to interfere, and perhaps more importantly, that Lornius would not be better off with Ashiakin as its duke.

With more tears of frustration brimming in his eyes, Damon knew it would be pointless to argue any longer. He let go of the monk and began to move up the spiral stairs again. A moment’s breath had been all that he needed.

[Ashiakin]

Falling was liberating. After all the demanding years directing an intricate network of intrigue and subterfuge, it brought the demon so much release to let go. To lose all control of everything. In those helpless moments, he could do nothing if his cord was to snap and his plunge to the earth was to continue unimpeded. It was thrilling. To be nothing more than a leaf on the wind, a cog in the great Salvic war machine—a mere platform to their imperial ambitions. It was as if ages and ages of stress were dissolving in the atmosphere around the demon as he plummeted toward the ground.

Only when he had fallen past the third floor of the pagoda, wind tousling his white hair and lifting up his flowing silk clothes as if they were wings, that he came to another realization. When he had heard Damon’s cry and leapt from the roof, he had done so with only a threadbare strategy and a minimal amount of caution for his own personal safety. It was almost as if he had placed a higher priority on keeping his partner safe than he had placed on keeping himself safe. He had done it without even thinking.

Am I going soft? he wondered. Losing my touch because I’ve befriended some child with godly powers? He’s a tool for winning the tournament! I need to remember that… Perhaps it meant nothing. Maybe, in that instant, his sub-conscious had merely calculated that he was capable of protecting himself better than Damon was capable of protecting himself. It very well could have been a strategic decision. But, nonetheless, the moment of respite falling had granted the demon was now gone.

Ashiakin was jolted back to reality as his cord snapped, announcing that he had reached the lowest point of his descent without a mishap. He tilted his head toward the crowd in that instant. There were humans, elves, and draw, men, women, and children. A diverse population likely only outmatched by Corone. But in the vapid eyes and cheering lips of almost every one of his adoring fans, he saw Damon. The blind worship and ceaseless adoration reminded him so much of the boy. He nearly shuddered at that. I’ve more blood on my hands than you could ever know! he wanted to scream. He wanted to tear off his guise. To keep falling. Feel his body break upon the earth.

But he didn’t. He tore upward so fast that he felt he was being buoyed by the cheers of the crowd below. It was as if their faith kept his lie afloat. He soared past the tiers of the pagoda and the roof started to come into view again. While he could not make out what had become of Damon or the whore that had tackled him, he saw that Asuka had used her cord and harness to climb down to the level below the roof. What on earth is she doing? he wondered, a sense of alarm stirring within him.

Horror filled his blue eyes when he witnessed her sword lash out and bite into the cord that tethered him to the roof. It cut all the way through. Shit! was all that the demon had time to think. Now that his lifeline had actually been severed, Ashiakin was having second thoughts about crashing into the ground. The crowd screamed, but he knew that their cries would not really be able to lift him up.

It was inertia that saved him. Though his cord had been severed, he continued to fly upward for several more feet. Ashiakin quickly tossed his long sword through the nearest window of the pagoda, shattering the glass. Before his body could begin a final descent, he grabbed the ledge of the shingled tier above him and swung through the open window below. He landed awkwardly on the wooden floor, rolling over bits of broken glass, and only came to a rest when he slammed loudly into the far wall.

Dazed and sore, Ashiakin slowly picked himself up. His clothes were ruffled and a little torn, but he otherwise looked presentable. He ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it once more. Although he had picked up some bruises and small cuts from the glass, he had not broken any bones or sustained any grievous injuries. Starting to regain his strength and awareness, the demon ran over to his sword and picked it up. He slid it into its sheath. There was little use for it right now. He had a better idea.

As Ashiakin dashed up the stairs of the inner pagoda, he tore off his harness, unfastening all its buckles and clips as fast as he could. He was so determined that he barely noticed the fresh blood on the steps, pausing only to wonder whose it was and if there was anyone else on the inside. After he had torn his harness off, he continued to work while he ran. A mass of ice began to form inside the empty harness—not as thick as he would have liked, due to the spell he had cast a few minutes ago and his turbulent entry through the window, but sturdy enough. It would suit his purpose well.

When he reached the floor of the pagoda below the roof—the one where he had last seen Asuka standing as she had stopped his ascent—he grabbed his ice harness by its remnant of elastic cord, swinging it above his head in a circle like a giant flail. He only stopped to make sure that there was no one else in the room. When he was fairly certain he was alone, he rushed over toward the window that looked over the ledge that he hoped Asuka still occupied. With all the strength he could muster, he swung his makeshift flail so that the ice-filled harness smashed through the window and soared towards what he hoped was his opponent’s torso. If it struck, she’d likely be knocked off the ledge.

[Rheawien]

Even though her treacherous attack failed to strike the tendons behind the boy’s knee – due to the constant wriggling as he attempted to climb the ledge which messed up her aim – the results of the slash fulfilled her intentions. The pain was enough to make him release the roof edge and fall by her like a rock. Fortunately, unlike her unwitting descend seconds ago, his hands failed to flail and find their way to her leg, reversing the situation. Instead the elf passed by her, bawling something that might have been: “Aw, shit!”, but the rapidly increasing distance between them disallowed her ears to hear him finish his articulation.

It was still far from over. A single skim of her eyes over her falling foe made her acknowledge that he too, like Ashiakin, had the rubbery contraption strapped to his chest that rescued him from becoming a splat somewhere in the middle of the multitude of faces below. Her eyes next looked to a storey underneath the one she currently hanged from, noticing Asuka slicing through the coil with her blade.

“Smart girl!”

Rheawien wasted not a moment. She bit into the blade of her dagger, pulling her lithe body up the rope and climbing over the ledge with significant difficulty. Regardless of how well trained a person was, pulling oneself over a ledge with nothing but the power or your arm muscles was never an easy task. Still, once she was up, huffing and puffing from the taxing ascend, her hands grasped the elastic coil and sliced through it with relative ease. The half-elf always kept her weapons sharpened to perfection – another lesson of her father that she clung to as if it was a holy commandment. However, the rubbery rope was still tensed enough to snap like a whip, one half disappearing over the ledge and the other lashing over her forearm, making her dagger follow the now loose rope on its short voyage to the ground below. She hoped it pokes somebody’s eye out down in the crowd.

Partially to see that happening, but mostly to see what became of Damon, Rhea leant over the ledge with kid gloves, just enough to take a peek. The dagger failed to find the eye of some irksome observer. Damon failed to become a pile of minced meat somewhere in the grass below. Double disappointment. She did, however, notice the loose end of his rope hanging from the window in one of the lower tiers of the pagoda.

“Damnit! He’s like vermin.” she muttered, pushing herself off the ledge and more carefully traversing the slanted roof to reach where her intact harness. The white-haired woman didn’t bother with the complicated straps, but rather just took the curled length or rope and approached the ledge again. The crowd cheered once they saw the unknown object falling down, then stopped and looked dumbfounded once they saw no body in the harness. Once Rheawien swung her body over the ledge and started to slowly descend in a manner of a trained spelunker, they started to boo again, swinging their fists at the air as if they were cursing the gods.

Out of pure spite that boiled more and more the closer she got to the mass below, she wanted to make a grand entrance in the room where Damon was supposed to be hiding. She pushed off the wall just above the window from which his coil protruded, let go of the rope just enough so that once her inertia brings her back, she would burst through the window at full speed. It was supposed to be a perfect surprise. It turned out to be a disaster.

Her hands did a good job at measuring the distance, but failed to input the elasticity of the rope into the calculation. This consequently made her feet catch the windowsill, making Rheawien crash into the room, headfirst. She had only her partial elven genes to thank for the dexterity that allowed her to put her hand before her face, preventing her from breaking her neck for certain. Still, the momentum made her roll through the room unhinged, stopping only once her back connected with the wall at the far end of the wall.

Her vision blurred from the impact at her spine, her lungs drawing the expelled air in short uncontrolled inhales. Though the obnubilated mush that her eyes looked at she could notice a shape of a rope tied to the torch just above her head. That bastard. He could’ve been anywhere by now. For all she knew, she could be lurking for her in this very room. If he came at her right now, there was little she could do to oppose him.

[AsukaStrikes]

The lass couldn't be more satisfied by the horrified look on her opponent's face as he flew upwards from the jerk of his harness, only to realize the next trip down was to be all the way. The crowd swelled with cries of terror, gasps rang out through the gathered mass while some unfotunate fools scurried to safety from where would be the epicenter of the ice demon's demise. Not that it would matter to her at all; the wretched Lornian crowd, the free-falling Ashiakin or the rebounding length of rope. Nothing was as important as coming out of this tournament alive and intact.

Sending someone to their doom in Asuka's place was merely collatoral damage in her mind.

Things would certainly end without a hitch if her sword had buried itself into the ice elemental's lifeline a few seconds sooner, but it was too late to mull over the devilish tactic. Ashiakin had utilized the momentum to spring himself clean through one of the windows below, to the dismay of the redhead maiden. The fight wasn't going to end easily, now that Ashiakin had a stable foothold. Then again, she expected nothing less from the battle-hardened ancient.

But even as the lass was wondering what sort or devious plot churning in the Salvic demon's head, the elastic coil bearing Asuka's entire weight snapped without a hint of warning. It happened so suddenly Asuka didn't even had time to think as her lithe form began its own free-fall towards the enthralled crowd below, yet again moving out of the way so as to ensure her demise in Mother Earth's firm embrace.

In that moment her body seemed to lose all sense of burden, the wind gently lifting up to stir her messy copper locks. The sky seemed so blue now that she had a good look at it, broken only by the cotton billows flowing across the expansive heavens above. Time slowed to a crawl and she could feel the very particles of arid Lornian air chafing the back of her head. Things flew by so slowly yet with a certain unrealiztic blur to it the lass failed to notice a human'size chunk of ice attached to a severed harness fly by her field of vision.

I'm... fallling...

The brown bungy cord trailed in the wake of a plunging redhead, the fraying end a tell-tale sign of something sharp running through the unthinkably fragile length of rope. Obviously, someone wanted to see her dead more than just the spectators below.

No... I can't let things end here... No way am I letting it end here.

What appeared to drag on forever ended in an instant. Asuka knew if she didn't find a tight hold soon, it would be she who would be the red sludge in the ground instead of Ashiakin.

Flailing wildly with her free left hand, the lass finally caught one of the trailing coils of rope thrown over the side by the battle organizers prior to the fight. The sturdy, abrasive cords woven into each other held fast to the roof attachments and Asuka tugged hard, fresh adrenaline boosting her strength out of sheer terror at the thought of a bloody death at the hands of gravity. She proceeded to slip down the ragged ropes, her fingers turning bright red from fresh wounds and rope burn. By the time she had stopped completely and slamming against the unforgiving Pagoda walls, crimson blood was smeared a good ways up the rope as well as pooling in the palm of her gloved hands. Kazeryu burning under Asuka's unrelenting grasp, his grip stained dull red from those same liquid flowing through his master's body. Still, it was a lot better than the alternative of slamming into the ground, just short of fifteen feet under her dangling legs.

The elated cheers turned into a wave of boo and distasteful hissing, many yelping in surprise as the lifeless bungy cord whipped about upon its landing in the throng of spectators below . The ebony carriage of a Lyridian hearse thundered up to the Pagoda, seeking to make some quick money evident in so many "fight-to-the-death" tournaments the Lornians were so accustomed to. Cursed undertakers. They're not taking me that easily.

"Over my dead body!" The wildcat hissed at the crowd below, prompting harsh backlashes to ensue and inconspicuous projetiles hailing the walls where Asuka hastily slipped through an opened window on the second floor. In this sense, an "open" window was made by stomping through its wooden frame and sending deadly shards of glass and wood pouring onto the creaky wooden floor. Even as she made it through the mess of glass, rocks and stick proceeded to shower after her and missing the lass by a hair's-breadth.

Ignoring the angry throng outside, Asuka hurried up the stony stairs at the core of the building whilst an ear-shattering crash erupted several floors above. Someone else was inside the building as well, probably intent on ending the maiden's life without a second thought. Using what little burst of adrenaline left in her system, her legs pounded the solid steps up to face her frigid foe, the Wind Dragon fast in her blood-covered hand.

[INDK]

Damon had paid little attention to the sounds below him as ran his way back up to the top of the tower. He could hear the sound of someone crashing in through the window down below, but the boy couldn’t help but wonder now if he wouldn’t be better off keeping the fight inside. True, the tournament organizers’ vision of a highly visible cliffhanger would have been ruined, but that was the last thing on Damon’s mind. The boy hated to think it, but if it hadn’t been for the fact that Ashiakin needed to attract these crowds in order to become duke of Lornius, Damon would have tried to shoo them away. He didn’t like the scrutiny, the pressure, questions about whether or not he was the “real” Damon Kaosi. He didn’t even know what it meant to be the “real.” He breathed, he bled, he was frightened… to Damon he was certain that made him real enough. However, that wasn’t enough to satisfy a crowd whipped up into a blood-crazed frenzy. They had high expectations, one Damon didn’t know as to whether or not he could deliver, especially if Ashiakin was gone.

As the boy looked out the window to find out for sure what had happened to his partner, he was overcome with nervousness. Damon wanted to hold on to the hope that Ashiakin had survived his fall, no matter how unlikely or irrational it would have seemed. Still, the boy had no choice. He had to persevere, and that meant he had to know of his partner’s face. Gulping, he looked out the window, and almost immediately, a bright smile appeared on his face. The body of Ashiakin was nowhere to be found, and the horrid girl who had attacked his partner was now crashing straight through glass.

A bright smile appeared on Damon’s face, and he felt more heartened as the crowd began to point at him and cheered. As much as he hated his audience, the boy couldn’t help but appreciate their applause. Taking a deep breath, he turned around again and tore the sleeve off his shirt so as to bandage his wounded calf. With Ashiakin in the building somewhere, Damon knew that he didn’t have to continue at a breakneck speed.

“He’ll be somewhere inside here, probably down on a lower floor,” Damon thought, trying to figure out where his partner would be. The boy was reluctant to attempt to come up with a new strategy now that he knew Ashiakin was alive somewhere. In the last round, when he’d tried, it had only ended up in disaster. He was going to have to find his partner now even if it required that he search the entire pagoda.

However, Damon had no idea where to start. He could have gone back down the stairs, but he was more than certain that by now, both of the Baneblades were also in the building. The boy dreaded the idea of meeting them both at the same time without Ashiakin’s guidance. He might be able to hold them off, but he’d already been wounded by them.

As he stopped to think, Damon tied up his wounded calf. The injury, while bloody, had been relatively shallow. The boy could still use his leg, albeit not without pain. However, the fact that he’d given himself a moment’s rest and allowed himself to let some of the adrenaline in his body burn away had lead to the pain becoming that much more throbbing. The boy bit his lip to refrain from crying any more as he tied a bandage around his wounded calf.

Taking a few deep breaths once he’d completed with the bandage, Damon was tempted just to wait for the Baneblades to come to him. He figured everyone else would also be heading back up to the roof, and that it was just as likely that Ashiakin should meet him before either of his opponents. However, the boy soon realized that if he didn’t head back down, there was always the chance that his partner could be overwhelmed by both the Baneblades and overcome. Almost immediately, Damon began to think of all the gruesome fates his mentor would suffer without him, just as he had as he’d run towards the pagoda earlier in the day. That moment, Damon knew that despite his wounded calf, he was going to have to head back down the stairs.

“Aaaashiakin!!!!!!!” he cried out, before he headed down. “I’m coming to find you!” Damon could have cared less if the Baneblades heard. Even if they managed to double team him, the boy thought it would be better of if he were to meet that fate than if his partner did.

[Ashiakin]

Ashiakin felt a sense of relief as the mass of ice slammed into Asuka's elastic coil and knocked the woman off the ledge. It wasn’t quite like winning the Serenti, and though he abhorred the mindless crowd below the pagoda, he had to admit that it was satisfying to be able to show them that his original loss had been undeserved. The masses outside roared as his opponent fell. But still, something did not seem right to the demon. Although they cried out, there were no wild shrieks to indicate that Asuka had crashed into the earth and broken every bone in her body. Sighing, he realized that killing this Serenti star was not going to be quite as easy as he had originally envisioned.

He slung the ice harness over his shoulder and wrapped the remnants of the broken elastic coil around his arm. With only the slightest hesitation—his body was still sore from his earlier entry through the window on the floor below—Ashiakin stepped through the broken glass to stand carefully on the sloped ledge of the pagoda. He peered over the edge to see that Asuka had taken hold of one of the ropes running up and down the towers side and was sliding down toward the ground. Clever, he thought. Although her hands are likely to be so raw that holding a weapon won’t be easy for her… This pagoda is a dangerous place. The end will be here soon..

As the wind blew through his hair and tugged at his torn silks, the demon closed his eyes and once more summoned his ice magic. The soreness of his body and the spells he had previously cast limited his reserves, but he had enough power left to cast the small spell that he needed. Ever so slowly, a thin layer of ice began to form on the palms of Ashiakin’s hands and the undersides of his fingers. He knew that he could have cut the rope as Asuka slid down it just as she had done to him, but he figured that by the time he had severed her line she would be so close to the bottom that a fall would barely harm her at all. It would be much better if he would simply follow her.

So the demon pressed his icy palms to the rope and grabbed it tightly, then stepped off the ledge. He slid down more rapidly than he would have normally, but the thin layer of ice protected his hands from the excoriating effects of the rope. By the time Ashiakin’s feet had connected with the ground—as gently and as painlessly as he could manage—Asuka had already entered the first floor of the pagoda through a broken window and was dashing up the stairs. The demon untied the elastic coil from around his arm and used the ice flail to knock out the remnants of the glass still in the window. When the demon examined the contents of the harness, he found that the ice inside it was now crushed and melted. The weapon was useless. His magic was too exhausted to be able to fix it.

“Ashiakin!” cried a shaky voice from the crowd. The demon turned around slowly to see that the boy Edwin was approaching him, carrying his bow and his quiver of arrows. He held them out, indicating that Ashiakin should step forward and take them.

“It won’t do me any good now, Edwin,” he said evenly. “Anyway, I doubt the tournament coordinators would look kindly on me taking up a new weapon in the middle of the round. I can’t take any risks at this point.” It was a stupid decision, Ashiakin knew. He was most skilled with the bow and Edwin was right to offer it. But he was so desperately worried about losing that he felt he had to guard himself against anything, even the slightest thing, that might disqualify him. He would not let himself lose here.

“But…” Edwin said, confused, “much of the way here you were complaining about how you were going to have to fight with a sword… I thought that this might help.”

“I know,” Ashiakin responded, still conveying no emotion. “But it seems you were wrong.” Or maybe he isn’t, he thought. Maybe I’m just so consumed with the idea of winning this that I don’t realize an uphill charge with a weapon I’m only moderately skilled with is a poor idea. What on earth is wrong with me?

Despite Edwin’s sputtering protests, Ashiakin turned around and leapt through the open first floor window. He moved quickly as to avoid Edwin, but also to avoid being shamed by a sixteen year old in front of a crowd of tournament goers. Why is it that all of a sudden I’m so concerned with what everyone thinks? Ashiakin wondered, drawing his long sword and one of his long knives, holding each in one hand. Why is it that everyone remind me of Damon?

Almost on cue, Ashiakin heard his partner cry out his name from one of the upper floors of the pagoda. Perfect. By Ashiakin’s calculations, Damon was on one of the upper floors, while Rheawien and Asuka were on some of the middle floors. Asuka likely still assumed that Ashiakin was also one of the upper floors, so Damon’s cry would likely send them running up the stairs. If his calculations were correct, then neither one of the Baneblades would be aware that he was on the bottom floor. If they were moving up, then Ashiakin would be able to take the pair of them from behind when they rushed Damon. Smiling, the demon moved quietly and stealthily up the stairs.

[Rheawien]

Although she wasn’t knocked unconscious by her unfortunate collision with the wall, Rheawien felt a little bit like waking up after a wild party gone wrong. Her back throbbing with pain like a pulsar, sending stars and constellations revolving in front of her eyes in sync with the ache in the rest of her body. If she wasn’t aware that it was in fact her grand entry that brought this condition upon her, she would’ve thought that somebody pushed her down a flight of stairs. Luckily for her, neither of the two members of team Blank weren’t around to take advantage of her compromised position.

Shaking her head minutely seemed like an unwise course of action, but she did it reflexively as she pushed herself back to her feet. The room around her was rather nondescript, polished hardwood floor and walls that lacked any kind of ornaments. Beside the flickering torches and the windows that looked down on the crowd below, there was nothing worth mentioning in the interior of the pagoda. It seemed almost as if this whole construct was either vacated for the duration of their battle or it was in fact never used for anything save this kind of tournament escapades. Compared to the Dajas Pagoda in Scara Brae, where every room had a personality that reflected the master of ever tier, this one seemed hollow and frigid. That failed to disconcert the half-elf though. Both Asuka and she were rather cold and brassy. This seemed like a proper venue for their victory.

“Speaking of Asuka, what’s that girl up to?” she wondered, precariously making her way to the window that helped her during her entrance and casting a glance downwards first. Beside the usual horde that seemed to hate her guts, she peeked out just in time to see her companion reenter the pagoda through one of the windows. “That’s good. She alritghshit, what was that!?” her tranquil contemplation ended up with a swift step backwards as Ashiakin slid down one of the ropes, too close for comfort to the window where she stood. It was out of the reach of her blade unfortunately and by the time that she got to the other window, the ice demon reached the ground and started talking with the boy from the crowd. It was a damn shame. Twice today he evaded being a heap of broken bones and minced meat somewhere in the midst of the crowd that oh-so-loved him. Rheawien hoped that third time would be a charm for her and Asuka.

A young disquieted voice broke her from the pondering and returned her to the task at hand. “It’s Damon. I have to make a welcoming party for him.” she thought, picking up the hasty pace of the elf’s feet that pitter-pattered down the spiral stairs, desperate to reunite him with his ally. Her first idea was just to stand around the corner and wait for the blundering “great” Damon Kaosi to come running right onto her blade. But though simple plans oftentimes gave birth to best results, she doubted that would work here. Even though he seemed like a greenhorn that came to Lorinus fresh of the tit, he was still Damon Kaosi, and as such, she needed something more cunning then just waiting behind the corner. Her battle-hardy mind came up with another solution fast enough.

She unsheathed her long sword and leant it on the wall next to the stairs from which Damon would be coming soon enough. Judging by the sound of it, he was only a storey or two above her position and that gave her ample time to set herself into the right position. She moved about halfway through the room, parallel to one of the windows, and lay back down on the polished floor. It was a tactic she heard certain animals use. They play dead when the predator arrives. They even play dead when the predator pokes them with the stick. And when there was enough confidence in predator, it became oblivious, careless. That was when she would strike. Once Damon passed down those stairs and noticed her seemingly slumped figure, she would use her telekinesis to call back her blade. Hopefully, the blade would be so kind to impale the elf on its way back to its master.

[AsukaStrikes]

The Spartan interior of the Pagoda flew by Asuka's vision as she pounded the solid stone steps, wearily making her way up the spiraling staircase towards the room Ashiakin supposedly had attacked her. The after-effects of the adrenaline rush started to take its toll on the young lass, her hands burning with unrelenting pain as the hormone diminished from her system. It hadn't occured to her how badly she was hurt back then; surviving the fall was enough justification to throw such emotion away to the back of her mind.

Hrrgh... darn... you... Asuka groaned weakly as each foot touched the stony steps, trailing red drips of blood from her torn hands behind her. I... can't let things end... not now... Asuka had to constantly remind herself why she was in this fight even as her previously tireless flight slowed down to exhausted stomps, her painted hands marking the concave walls at a steady rate. Asuka realized that if she continued fighting like this, the ancient would have no trouble decapitating her with a flick of his hand.

The redhead lass paused and wandered into the empty room, fatigue washing over her like a tidal wave. The blood loss was beginning to affect her as well as the room started appeared to move back and forth under her feet. Surprisingly, the floor was completely unoccupied while showing signs of an obvious break-in. The glass was scattered haphazardly on the scarred oak floorboards and the frame in splinters. Small, dark stains marked the wood in certain places all the way to the far wall.

Ashiakin was here... The room felt airless and overwhelming at the thought that her foe could very well be in this very room. Her breath quickened, anticipating a surprise attack that she would most likely be unable to parry away. He was, after all, a war veteran. What trouble could an inexperienced young whip like her do a thing against him?

Idiot! Wake up! Snap out of it! She couldn't have second thought or any doubt now. She hadn't make it all the way to Lornius just to lose to some old mage covered in ice. Asuka wasn't going to let it go that easily. C'mon! The only reason this guy wanted you dead was because he's jealous! He lost in the first round of the Serenti! You made it all the way to the Semifinals! You're better than him!

Yes... I'm better than him... Asuka leaned against the outside of the pagoda stairwell, glancing down at her battered hands and the blood-soaked Kazeryu. But I can't fight him like this... I have to stop the bleeding.

One good thing about the Pagoda was that everything was very solid and reliable. Stable footing was what this fighter needed the most for her combat style. But an arena like this also turned out to be a pain; There was nothing for her to use to stop the injury.

Kazeryu pulled at her grip, slowly dipping away and just lightly touching a portion of the unscarred floor. Well... if I can't hold on to this blade any longer... The lass pushed off the cold stone wall and trudged over to the broken window, reaching out to the soaked length of rope dangling just off to the side. I'll make it so I can.

The ordeal was no less than painful as Asuka forced herself to slash and bound a length of rope to Kazeryu, tying the Wind Dragon fast to her right hand in the usual reversed grip. She knew it would not be as effective as fighting with entirely capable hands, but that was what she didn't have at the moment. She had to make-do with what she had and hope for the best.

Where is Rheawien, anyways... I hope she hadn't gotten herself killed just yet... The thought of having to fight Blank two at a time surely would not be a happy experience. However, Asuka trusted that anyone as capable in battle as the half-elf would live long enough to see her foe skewered at the end of a sword. Well... let's hope she gets her man...

The lass paused just off to the right of the broken window sill after finished fixing the double-edged sword to her hand, muscles tensed and adrenaline coursing through her body for the second time in this fight. The light-headed feeling visited her again from time to time, though nothing nearly as nauseating as she had first entered the room.

She could sense the air turning cold and still, the feeling of hostility slowly creeping into her mind. Around her neck, the Spiritstone Pendant glowed dimly as the sun casted its light against the walls, leaving her in the shadow of the central stairwell in front of her.

Ashiakin could be coming, but Asuka was still unsure if she could fight the ice demon head-on under her current condition. She continued to eye the stairwell entryway uneasily, bringing her blade up and positioning her body like an amateur street fighter facing off against her immortal enemy.

I guess it's time to meet our maker...

[INDK]

(Bunny of Rheawien approved)

As Damon moved down the stairs to find his partner, he caught sight of the wicked lady who had slashed him in the calf. Her sword was laying fairly far from her body, and it looked like she had taken a great fall. The boy tried not to smile, but he couldn’t help himself. His first impulse had been to help his foe, it had seemed as if she’d cascaded hard through the window and hurt herself badly. Despite his earlier injury, Damon was not without sympathy for her.

Still, the boy knew that he couldn’t afford to be too cautious, especially with an opponent who had already shown a penchant for deviousness. Plus, Damon knew that Ashiakin would not be nearly as concerned for the fate of the Baneblades. Neither would the organizers of the LCC. If Damon failed to make sure his opponent was down, it could cost Ashiakin his rightful position as Duke of Lornius. Thus, Damon was going to have to investigate. “Do you surrender?” he asked. He moved towards the half elf uneasily, carefully inspecting the area around to look for blood or any other signs of trauma that would have explained why she had crumbled. There was a bit of blood around, but it just as easily could have come out of Damon’s calf as any injury suffered by the lady.

He didn’t find much. The window had been open so there was no broken glass. The walls were still sturdy, and no blood had splashed on them. Damon was just about to mutter about his suspicion when his mind warned him about a trap. The half elf’s sword, which had otherwise been laying off near the doorway was now flying straight towards him, seemingly moving under its own power. Flying straight and true, it was headed straight for the boy’s spine. Eyes wide in terror, Damon managed just to wheel around in time to knock the weapon out of the way with a sword of his own. Hitting it hard, the flying sword was knocked down to the ground. The boy cringed as he followed through, for he’d spun around impulsively on his wounded calf, causing his shoddily tied bandage to split and the wound to begin to spurt out blood anew.

Now Damon crumbled. Adrenaline and the will to survive temporarily anesthetized his wounded calf, but now the wound had reminded him of its presence by sending a sharp pain up his spine. More than ten feet from his enemy, the boy knew he had both an enchanted sword and a devious foe to contend with. This was the second time she had tricked him, and as Damon obstinately pursed out his lip, he couldn’t help but to feel frustrated by the deviousness of his opponent. This was a tournament to find the best fighters, not the kind of underhanded brawl that was best left to the demons in Haidia. It seemed that the Baneblades had chosen to ignore this, and Damon knew now he would have no choice but to completely sink to their level.

“We deserve to win this because Ashiakin deserves to be the duke,” the boy thought, confused by how no one else could understand that. “After all he’s worked for, that he’s taken me in and showed me so many things, how can anyone else think that he wouldn’t deserve it?”

Rheawien was nothing but a lout if she couldn’t appreciate the greatness of Ashiakin. Damon was going to have to beat her to the point of being able to fight no longer. The boy had never wanted to do that, but he knew now that he was left with no other options. She was too devious, too untrustworthy. Originally, he had only been seeking an honorable surrender from the Baneblades, but Rheawien had rendered that impossible.

If Damon had been able to, he would have sprung up right there and put his sword straight into the spine of the lady just the same way that she had tried with him. It would be a far more honorable blow than the underhanded stab when he was hanging off of the roof. However, with his leg throbbing, Damon knew that he wouldn’t be able to pick himself back up without using his hands. With both Rheawien and the sword to worry about, Damon knew that he couldn’t afford to be put in such a compromising position.

Thus, instead of getting up, Damon remained kneeling. His wounded calf remained on the ground awkwardly, as the boy supported himself with his good leg and other knee. With one hand ready on his longsword to deflect another attack from his opponent, Damon began to rifle through his pockets. He was wont for ideas, but there was one last thing that he thought he could do. The moment that Rheawien got up, Damon was going to have to strike. In the meantime, it would be enough for him to neutralize her, the boy was certain that Ashiakin could take care of the other Blaneblade and then come to rescue him. However, if she were to get up, Damon needed to strike.

He took a stone out from his pocket, and weighed it in his right hand. It was small and round, a bit dusty but undoubtedly hard enough to do a bit of damage if thrown with the requisite force. Damon had initially picked it up not as a weapon, but because its smoothness had provided an aesthetic that appealed to him. However, the LCC was now calling for creative thinking, and that was all that Damon could muster. If his opponent got up, Damon would throw the rock at her temple. If she moved in any closer, the boy would use his tornado.

In the interim Damon would remain silent, trying to conceal his pain. He was fed up enough with his opponent that he wouldn’t have wanted to give her the satisfaction that she had hurt him.

[Ashiakin]

As Ashiakin crept up the stairs as noiselessly as possible, he heard the beginnings of a scuffle somewhere far above his head. Evidently Damon has encountered one of the Baneblades, he realized. ... Or both of them. The battle sounds were too vague and far away for Ashiakin to be able to decipher the number of participants, but it set him to worrying all the same. Whether or not he was worried for Damon’s safety or worried about the fact that fighting two opponents at once would make his Serenti defeat all the harder to avenge was difficult to tell. It was likely a little of both.

Throughout his recent days in Lornius, Ashiakin had spent much time wondering about this boy that called himself Damon Kaosi. The demon had set several of the agents in his personal spy network to looking into the child’s elusive past. Despite their search—which largely entailed interrogating patrons of local bars and plumbing the depths of the Lyridian library that held little more than casino records and racy travelogues—no history of Damon emerged. No one had heard of him prior to a few weeks ago. Unless, of course, you asked about the dead elven general Damon Kaosi. Everyone had heard of him. But he was thought to have died several months before the child calling himself Damon arose. Many of his agents felt this lent to the idea that he was the old Damon reborn. Ashiakin deplored rumor and superstition, but even he was beginning to admit that the coincidence was troubling. At the least, there was more to Damon than he knew. Than anyone knew, it seemed. Not even the boy himself.

Despite his uncertainty, the noises of combat above had sent Ashiakin creeping up the stairs more quickly. No matter who his partner really was, the boy’s naiveté and hero worship were too steadfast to crumple in the final moments of the round. He would need the child alive to be able to dispatch the Baneblades. He needed Damon so that he could slay Asuka and avenge his Serenti defeat, so that a victory here would cause the specter of Salvar’s burgeoning empire to loom all the closer over Lornius. Although they might not know it, his foes stood against his own personal redemption and the progress of humankind’s greatest kingdom. If they were unaware, he would enlighten them.

I’ve come to far to be defeated now, Ashiakin knew. No matter who Damon is, I’ll save him. If it turns out that he really is some dead elf reborn, if he suffers some sort of a backlash to his former nobility and wants half of my dukedom, he can always die again. But the thought of having to kill the boy made Ashiakin cringe. He felt guilty immediately. Though he’d never say so, he was fond of the boy. It was refreshing to see that kind of genuine innocence when you lived in the world Ashiakin did. Isn’t it? he wondered. Or did I just find that innocence horrifying a moment ago?

The demon had been so lost in his own thoughts that he did not notice he had stepped onto the same level he had earlier entered through a window. Ashiakin’s eyes moved over the broken glass on the floor to the shattered window. Something felt wrong about this place. Quiet as everything seemed, he had an eerie feeling that he was not alone. He stepped quickly and carefully over the broken glass, but paused when he was in the middle of the room. Despite the obvious danger, all he could think about was how ridiculous he must look. His white hair ruffled, his fine silky clothes torn and unkempt, his skin flecked with droplets of dark blue blood where it had been torn by shards of glass. How he stood there clutching a sword and a dagger, looking cautious.

Suddenly—only a few split seconds after he had stepped off the stairs and into the room, but an eternity in combat time—he had a realization. Under the stairs behind his back, there was a large web of shadows. That has to be where she’s hiding… he thought. It has to be Asuka, she was on the first floor only moments ago and she couldn’t have gotten far by now. Oh… To be this close to vengeance. Fast as he could, well realizing that Asuka might already be moving to strike him, the demon whirled around and let his dagger fly into the shadows. Aiming had been difficult due to the speed he had required and the vague target area, but he hoped it might hit her.

“Stand and face me, Asuka!” he hissed, quickly slipping into a fighting stance with his sword. “I’m sick of us all crawling around this pagoda like worms. Let’s end this now. Let’s see the Serenti crushed under the weight of an empire.” She likely didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. But Ashiakin was beyond caring. He stood in the middle of the room, halfway between the shadows under the stair and the light pouring in through the broken window, poised to move either way.