Round Three: (2) Sons of Terrinore v (26) Infinity

[Thoracis]

Things were not as they should have been in the Monolith Clearing.

Was Elrundir talking to himself? “I rather enjoy this body…”? It was all very strange. Elrundir had always been arrogant, Thoracis had never crossed a mage who hadn’t been, but this was different. This was arrogance and… contempt? Hatred? Regardless, his eyes never left the shadowy mage as he spoke. There was no telling what other surprises this Elrundir had in store. Thoracis was not going to be caught off guard. Or so he thought. For a brief instant Elrundir’s eyes flickered behind Thoracis. There was a slight nod of his head and Thoracis whirled around. Hikari no Ashigaru. Out of nowhere - again - the dark elf had appeared behind him. He was much more powerful now then when Thoracis had left him the Black Hand. He could sense his new magical power. Great.

All at once the plot unfolded in Thoracis’ head. Last year Dirks and Mazrith had had no way to neutralize his magic; enter Elrundir Galadhrim. Last year Dirks and Mazrith came as agents of Malice; enter Hikari no Ashigaru. Thoracis was not sure that Hikari had actually been a member of Malice, but he knew with absolute certainty that he had fought with Dirks against the Grey Braves. An elementary school student could work this equation. Son of a bitch, Thoracis thought, what do I do?

Instinct drew his attention to Dirks, who was probably the most dangerous of them still. How did he expect to get Starlynn back after a stunt like this? Thoracis was sure he must have had some kind of plan, he was making his way towards the ice mage now. “Son of a bitch!” Thoracis cursed aloud this time as Dirks drew nearer. Adrenaline took over. Elrundir first. Two huge strides sent Thoracis leaping off the end of the stage. Though he had but a few feet to work with dark elven training and the rune of speed in his armor allowed Thoracis an inhuman leap. Midair he heard the trail end of Dirks’ comment, “…on your own.” God damnit! I knew it! Thoracis was coming down within staff range of Elrundir. As he did an eighteen-inch blade of ice extended from his staff. He swung it like an axe, aiming to cleave straight through Elrundir’s left shoulder.

It was a sloppy move. Too hasty. He had come from too far away and was going to leave himself open after the attack. But if it hit… he knew he had to end this as soon as possible. It’s going to miss… Thoracis realized to himself. Momentum would leave him as a sitting duck on the ground. I’m going to end this quick alright. I’ll be dead in moments… The odds were stacked too high. Thoracis was not acting clearly. Oh shit, was all he could think as he hit the ground.

[Arawn]

The dark elf’s breath caught in his throat.

Something within Hikari stirred when his eyes had met Elrundir’s. The beast subjugated within the white warrior’s body was suddenly pulling at the chains restraining him, struggling to be freed. He shook his head slightly to clear it, uneasily turning away from the shadow mage. With somber resolution, Hikari’s blade began to shine still brighter, hastening to restore the intangible binds that kept the beast born of the Magi Tower massacre in check. All day, the drow had seemed in undisputed command of himself. This unexpected upheaval was unnerving, readily silenced though it was. His darker half mustn’t take hold; not now. The only basis for his attendance in the tournament was to establish an improved sway over it. He raised his falchion before him and held it with both hands, determinedly observing his opponents.

“It was naught but a insignificant slip,” he attempted to convince himself ineffectually.

In the end, it was the masked mage’s reckless lunge that proved the battle’s herald, driving vampirism momentarily from his mind. Like a feline whose been startled by an unknown noise, Hikari’s reaction was little more than a reflex. A flash of blinding light pulsed outward from his shape, casting the soaring monolith, the stage and its sweeping rows of seats in radiant incandescence for a moment. The next second, he noted his assumption to be misguided. Thoracis’ offensive was not meant for the drow at all, but took him off the stage to assault his elven associate. As such, Hikari’s aide was more likely to find himself encumbered by his imprudent maneuver than the one who had incited it. Without time to feel contrite concerning his actions, he set his sights on the human it was his charge to disgrace in the clash.

Unsure whether his first feat had managed to upset Max Dirk’s poise, Hikari quickly followed it with another. A loud crackling emitted from all about him as static began to leap at random with his amassed energy. The light mage’s hair began to stand on end with the charge, making him look almost comical if not for the circumstances. His surroundings seemed darker by comparison of the luminous aura. The diminutive electric storm became suddenly more concentrated at the tip of Jinkourai Ittou, an effervescent mass of bouncing radiance atop an already lustrous weapon. The force was then released toward the sole individual who seemed without any supernatural faculties in the arena. It took the form of white electric bolt raking through the air between the two combatants, making it crack in its wake.

“No withdrawing now,” the reluctant dark elf spat under his breath.

[Elrundir]

Elrundir was truly amused by the allies and enemies laid out for him by the tournament organizers. To think that his opponents, two men feared and respected in their own rights, were here squabbling like paranoid children! If he didn't know better, the elf would say that Thoracis was a nudge away from attacking Max Dirks outright. Ah, and that is a thought that brought great pleasure to Elrundir's mind. If he could just unlock that darkness, it would be so... beautiful to watch as it unfolded. There is nothing else quite as beautiful as planting the seed of dissention and watching it blossom into a black rose of hatred.

And what of Hikari? Elrundir was greatly interested in him, too. His taint could sense the darkness lingering within Hikari - a darkness that also struggled to get free, just as Elrundir's original soul did. That beautiful power threatened to break its bonds when Elrundir looked into Hikari's eyes... and then, he noted, it was suppressed again when that accursed blade began to glow. So that is the secret, he thought to himself, all the while keeping his eyes on Thoracis, his present priority. There are many pieces to observe in this game. The elf's eyes flickered briefly from Thoracis to observe Dirks, and then Hikari once again, and he grinned.

But in that brief moment, Thoracis saw fit to strike. The elf's eyes were back on his opponent, who was lunging at him with his newly ice-tipped staff. The smirk didn't leave Elrundir's face, although it was there for a different reason now.

"So predictable, so hasty!" Elrundir laughed vibrantly at the moment Thoracis lunged. Rouge immediately fluttered away from her sapphire perch as her master ducked under and around the mighty cleave. "That's a typical human for you." Elrundir began to murmur under his breath, intending fully to take advantage of this moment and eliminate one of his foes.

Before the spell could be completed, a bright flash of light ripped through the amphitheater, causing Elrundir to hiss in disgust. If his normal self had been in control, such a simple flash would not have disturbed his concentration enough to break the spell. However, the taint was a creature of darkness, and furthermore, it had been bound to the shadow realm for an entire year since it infected this host. Light was its greatest and most hated weakness. Accursed blade! I'll tear it apart!

But Elrundir realized that now was not the time. He had a foolish and hasty opponent right in front of him, and there would be no way he could concentrate enough to destroy Jinkourai Ittou and release the darkness festering within Hikari. Right now he needed to focus on Thoracis, and he would savour every minute of it - every minute of destroying him from without and from within.

Recovering from the flash, Elrundir stood quickly again and faced Thoracis. His advantage had been lost thanks to that accursed weapon, but no matter. He was certain the human would act rashly again. "Do you really intend to defeat me that way, Lord General?" He used the title with such disdain that it was more of an insult than such a title could ever possibly be. "There is so much rage in your movements! And yet... that fire in your eyes..." Elrundir laughed again, loudly and coldly. "That fire does not burn for me!" The elf's free left hand pointed up onto the stage, towards Dirks. "Your soul burns for him! Your hatred is not strong enough to defeat me. You must direct it towards the one for whom it is meant!" He thrusted his finger in Dirks' direction again. "Or else..."

Suddenly, Elrundir lifted his mythril staff and slammed its foot against the hard, stone floor of the amphitheater. A peal of lightning ripped forth from the head of the staff, arced through the air, and then lanced downward towards Thoracis. "Or else let your darkness grow and destroy me!"

[Max Dirks]

“Idiot,” Dirks mumbled as he watched Thoracis rush Elrundir. The parallels between the two battles were difficult to overlook, but Dirks still could not fathom the entire logic behind the ice mage’s reckless behavior. Dirks was in love—Thoracis knew this. Why would Dirks do anything to jeopardize his eventual reunion with that love? He had even allowed himself to be used in the ice mage’s desperate quest to become a champion simply because he’d found out that Starlynn was still alive. Did the general not see this? This tournament—Dirks’ tournament—had a strange way of toying with emotions.

Just as the ice mage jumped off the stage, a large burst of light emanated from behind Dirks, instantly reminding the former criminal that they were still there to fight. Hikari. Dirks squinted and turned around to find the light elf summoning an electric storm. Common sense suggested running away from the forthcoming salvo, but Dirks did not yet know the size, direction or concentration of the attack. Instead, he decided to run directly toward it, pulling his twin prevalida katanas from their sheaths as he did so. The light elf was skilled, but Dirks knew from their previous adventures that all of Hikari’s abilities were not innate. Without Thoracis, close quarters combat was the only protection from magic that Dirks had.

One. Two. Three. Dirks counted. It took three seconds for the projectile lightning to manifest onto the tip of Hikari’s blade and release at Dirks, giving him just enough time to lift his left hand into the air. The lightning shot forth and was immediately drawn to the metal of Dirks’ blade. Dirks could feel his arm sizzle as he slammed the katana into the stage, grounding a good portion of the bolt. The rest grounded itself through Dirks’ body. Small shocks struck his chest and legs with his iron chain-mail armor acting as an additional conductor for the electricity. But none of this stopped the inertia of the former criminal. He arrived at Hikari’s position within moments.

Dirks slowed and took his second katana into both hands. He wound up as Hikari mumbled, giving the former criminal a glimpse at how badly burned his left arm was. Infection was already starting to seep from some of the more serious burns. Ignoring the sting, Dirks swung hard at Hikari’s left shoulder blade. The attack, based on the curvature of the sword, would slice the elf from his shoulder to his waist if successful. “No more tricks, Hikari,” Dirks hissed.

The time of incantation was discussed previously with Arawn. He stated it would take between 3-5 seconds to produce the lightning. I only had Dirks count to 3 because it would have taken him a moment to turn around as well

[Thoracis]

Hikari no Ashigaru had probably just saved Thoracis’ life. The flash of light produced by Jinkourai Ittou was just enough of a diversion to stop an immediate counterattack from Elrundir. While outwardly the ice mage showed no emotion there was a massive sigh of relief in his own mind. He could already feel the beads of sweat forming beneath his black porcelain mask. He felt like he had suffered through more anxiety in the last ten minutes then he had the last ten years. He couldn’t help but feel that the battle had already spiraled out of his control and was progressing down a route that could only end badly.

Off to the side Thoracis bore witness to the lightning that was careening between Hikari and Dirks’ swords. Dirks stormed through the attack though, almost too easily Thoracis thought, Elrundir’s psychological games providing a sort of twisted commentary to the event. “There is so much rage in your movements! And yet... that fire in your eyes..." Elrundir laughed; mocking him. "That fire does not burn for me!" The shadowy mage pointed to Dirks. "Your soul burns for him! Your hatred is not strong enough to defeat me. You must direct it towards the one for whom it is meant! Or else..."

It was almost as if they were playing by the same script as before…

“No Thoracis, you’re not seeing a ghost. The Assassins of Alerar are reunited at last.” Dirks had begun the games that time. Thoracis had demanded an explanation of his and Mazrith’s intrusion.

“That is for him to answer.” Dirks motioned to Mazrith with the barrel of his gun. “I’m just here to protect my investments” The words meant nothing to Thoracis. What were they really doing?

Reaching beneath his robe, he pulled out a patch and tossed it at Thoracis’ feet. It landed with a thump, right side up. It was a patch with the Assassins of Alerar symbol on it. In a soft voice that only Thoracis was close enough to hear, “It is time, my friend,” Mazrith suggested. Mazrith had tried to turn Thoracis against his partner. Just as Elrundir was doing right now…

“You don’t even know why I wasn’t there, Thoracis. I did not abandon you. I was temporarily detained by agents under the command of Dirks. I need your help, friend. Its not you I am after. Its him.” Had that been true? Was it Dirks who had sabotaged Thoracis in the inaugural LCC as well? Was this Dirks’ third go-round at stopping Thoracis?

“Join me,” Mazrith said, weary and ready for anything, yet still sounding confident and in control. “And together we shall destroy the Steel Duo and take our rightful places as champions.” To his credit, Mazrith never strayed from his role. He continued to plead with Thoracis to the bitter end.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Dirks had responded to Mazrith first. Then came the coup de grâce. A single bullet through Thoracis’ head. Despite their stated intentions Thoracis knew that both Dirks and Mazrith had walked from that battle alive. He had been had. Was this confrontation heading down the same path?

All of the memories flooded Thoracis’ mind and were gone in the same instant. He had no intention of falling for Elrundir’s taunts, he was too smart for that, but he simply couldn’t help it. His rage grew to the point that he could hardly control his breathing, let alone think clearly. It just made too much sense to Thoracis. Sure, Dirks needed Thoracis to get Starlynn, but Dirks had never failed to be an enterprising individual when it came to devising and scheming some plot or another. Surely that was what this was.

Elrundir’s own bolt of lightning caught Thoracis unaware in his anger. At the last second Thoracis held his liviol staff across his body, the full force of the effect blowing him to his backside and onto the ground. An ungodly scream emanated from beneath the black porcelain mask. It was not a scream of pain, but of rage. The magical protection of the liviol wood and the defensive capabilities of his dwarven dehlar chainmail would leave the ice mage with nothing more then some minor burns on his arms and chest. What hurt more was that he had been caught unaware, his judgment clouded by his anger, his situation creating more frustration and confusion by the second.

“Enough!” Thoracis screamed, leaping to his feet. He flailed his arms towards Elrundir, five ice shards instantly on course for Elrundir’s torso. In the distance Dirks was midstroke of an attack that would surely cleave Hikari from shoulder to waste if it hit. Good showmanship you mother… Just then he remembered one other thing Dirks had said to him on that fateful day one year ago.

“But…my old friend…appearances can be deceiving.”

[Arawn]

The smell of burning skin suddenly reached the drow’s nostrils, permeating his sinus cavity. A sliver of numbing pleasure crawled up his back from his spinal tip to the base of his skull, making his head arch back slightly in rapture. Goosebumps erupted throughout his upper body, snaking outward from this blissful path. Another dangerous pang of sedition resounded from inside him. This ecstasy in presence of the scent of flesh was not his own; it belonged to the predator festering within. Still, for that instant, Hikari did not wish to fight it. His eyes glazed over as he pondered the moment. Why would one combat such gratification? Perhaps it was best to let himself accept these alien instincts and immerse himself in the decadence of self-indulging violence. It had been so easy before, so simple. Hikari need only opt for what was pleasing…

This train of thought was tersely shattered by the sting of a thousand needles coming from his left shoulder. He was harshly brought back to the Lornius match from his dreams in seventh heaven. The light mage was returned to the here and now, Dirk’s excruciating attack a most ruinous reality. The agony was almost redoubled in stark disparity of the previous second’s contentment. The rogue’s blade had ripped through Hikari’s cloak and leather vest, entering at least three inches into the drow’s skin before he had given thought to react. He did not remember beginning to shout in pain, echoing Thoracis’ yell an instant ago, but he was already doing so when his shape and apparel were once more engulfed in white. This time, however, it was not in an outward burst of light, but a conversion of his entire form into photo-particles, his newly ethereal form allowing the katana to complete its trajectory without physical resistance.

He continued to pass straight through his opponent to the edge of the stage beyond, a strange experience no matter how often he underwent it. Once there, Hikari turned and reassumed his solid form. His falchion was now held in his right hand alone, blood seeping freely down the incapacitated left arm. A slight twitching of his fingers proved it was not made completely inert, but it would be of little use to him for the remainder of the confrontation. Cold air on the open wound was sending a continuous throbbing reminder of his own idiocy in losing sight of the moment. The temptation of acquiescence with his inner demon had been far more distracting than was usual, even in the presence of an alluring meal. The dangers of the dormant vampire were all too clear, renewing Hikari’s desire to embarrass the human opponent to the fullest of his capacity for the prospect of his sought after deliverance.

“You’ll regret that, you repellent human filth,” the dark elf shouted, focusing his self-resentment onto his assailant. “Your out of your league in a battle of gods.”

His breathing was coming hard and his left shoulder ached continually as he stood, left arm limp and soaked in crimson at his side. At first, it seemed the wind had shifted around him, his cloak suddenly catching and pulling at his body. Then, it could be seen sticking to his skin, crawling around it. It enveloped his injured arm, not healing the gash but covering it in protective vlince. Even where it had been cut, the fabric appeared to melt into itself as it encased the dark elf in a shimmering black cocoon. It came to his face last, working inward from the pale visage. His mouth was open as it was sealed shut behind the living garment, his black eyes wide as they were simultaneously hidden in kind. He was turning to the recourse of his cloak’s gift, something he did only during inimitable conditions.

~*~*~*~*~

Only a few feet from where the light mage had stood observing the Monolith Clearing before the battle, a new creature was overlooking the match’s events. His grey, muscular form was adorned with a regal cowl laced with rich silver. He bore no weapons of any kind, for he had no intention to intervene. He grinned when he saw Hikari phase through Max Dirks’ attack, an ability common to both of them. He had been foolish to allow the strike, the spectator thought, but perhaps such mishaps were to be expected of one in his condition. Both the dark elf and the human had now been wounded, the latter being a fabricated prerequisite for the light mage in the onlooker’s faux letter. Max Dirks was of little consequence to the grey-skinned bystander. He had come for a far more baleful motive than to watch the defeat of a great ego.

“Ah, so at last we have it,” Raiba said to the wind with a self-satisfied sigh as he saw Hikari completely enveloped in the mystic cloak and burst into light for the second time in mere moments. For this alteration, however, he knew the drow would retain solidity.

“Now let’s see what he makes of it.”

[Elrundir]

It became quickly evident to Elrundir that Thoracis would not be an easy man to break. He had hoped that he could turn the mage against his partner, simply by feeding the animosity that could already be seen festering between them. It worked, to a degree, but not to the degree he had been hoping for. No matter; that would simply have been an easier route to victory, and even though he and Hikari were not capable of advancing to the next round, Elrundir hoped to shatter any chances of Dirk and Thoracis’ victory in the finals by breaking their already-feeble partnership like a twig. He who laughs last laughs the very best.

Perhaps that partnership would break on its own, without any influence from the elf… and yet he was not satisfied with just leaving it at that. He was resolved to continue to prick the skin, slowly gnawing away at Thoracis’ consciousness. Even if he couldn’t turn his opponent against Dirks, then he could turn his own rage against himself. Elrundir was no fool; he realized that Thoracis was a more powerful mage than he was, thanks in no small part to Elrundir having banished himself to the shadow realm in order to contain the taint and thus letting his body remain in stasis. The only way he would win this battle of strength would be to force his opponent to make mistakes. That would be done through fear, deception, taunting… the taint’s specialties.

It was succeeding so far. Elrundir had nearly roasted Thoracis when the mage was left in a momentary daze. If he hadn’t guarded himself at the last minute, that might have been the end of it. Even as Thoracis attacked again, Elrundir could see the anger coursing through him like fire. It brought a grin to the elf mage’s face, even as the ice shards materialized before him. They raced forward, aimed for his torso, ready to turn him into a pin cushion – and yet, before they could strike, each and every shard took a nose-dive towards the ground and shattered against the stony amphitheater’s floor. Elrundir had not even moved when he deflected the attack; he had in fact used his telekinesis to do so, but by not visibly doing anything, he created the illusion of power – thus nurturing the fear within Thoracis.

“Don’t you understand yet?” the elf mused. His voice was softer now, as if pleading with Thoracis, trying to bring the human over to his point of view. “Fate will not bless your battle against an undeserving foe.” Elrundir shook his head slowly, looking disappointed. “Will you waste your life in battle with me, and leave that which you truly desire incomplete?”

As he said that, Elrundir glanced briefly toward the battle between Dirks and Hikari, which was lighting up similarly. It was not their battle that interested him, though; the taint within him had sensed that darkness again. It was welling up and screaming for release from the prison that was the white warrior. Isn’t it marvelous, Elrundir? the taint pondered inwardly, once again taunting its own prisoner. The real Elrundir could feel that the taint was almost giddy at the sensation of another darkness present. It laughed horrifically, and he knew that the wheels of its mind were spinning ever faster with each passing moment.

But by now, Hikari had wrapped himself in his strange cloak, and he began to glow. Elrundir almost hissed at the pure, complete aura of brilliance. It was as though Hikari had once again transformed into light, for indeed his entire body was engulfed by it – not dull, hazy light, but pure, brilliant light. Elrundir could not understand how a creature of such magnificent darkness could exist within a host of such pure light. The juxtaposition was too cruel to comprehend! How dare the white warrior enslave that beautiful creature? But Elrundir knew the secret, and he was prepared to strike. He needed only to wait for the proper moment to open the doorway to darkness.

For now, Elrundir still had his immediate foe to deal with. Thoracis had just attacked, and Elrundir had deflected that attack; the difference this time was that there was no blinding flash of light to deter the counterattack. The elf mage would make this next attack decisive – and it would come from two sides. Rouge! Now is the time to strike!

The blood-red cardinal had been fluttering above the amphitheater since the battle began, likely unnoticed by the distracted competitors. But now, at her master’s command, she began to dive towards the ground at an angle, directly behind the human. Elrundir, of course, was still focused on Thoracis’ front. “If you will not listen to reason, then your death shall come swiftly.” The next time Elrundir’s lips parted, his voice broke out in song: cold and dark was his voice, but typical of the song-schools of Raiaera. The ground began to swell around Thoracis, and four spears of ice jutted forth from the earth: two in front of him at slightly different angles, and one on either side of him.

The plan was to force Thoracis backwards, because he would then be caught by Rouge’s own attack. With a screech at the last minute, the little cardinal erupted with a flare of soul energy, quite different from any conventional magic. This was a piece of her own soul, tearing towards Thoracis in the form of a bright, silvery flame, while the cardinal herself swooped back up into the sky to resume her circling out of harm’s reach. The trap was sprung.

[Max Dirks]

Dirks nearly toppled over when the elf ‘dissipated’ due to the force of his attack. But before he could catch his balance, Hikari swept through him. A sheering pain immediately erupted in Dirks’ head and then every nerve exploded, forcing him to drop to a knee. The odd sensation ended once the elf’s ghost had passed through him, but the headache still remained. “What is going on?” Dirks mumbled, grabbing his head with his burnt hand. They were both warm to the touch. Dirks looked up at Hikari and watched as the elf floated to the back of the stage. A normal man would have stayed there defeated, but Dirks forced himself to stand. He shook his head, fighting away the pain. “You’re not going anywhere.”

With a cry, Dirks squinted and charged at Hikari. He bent down to pick up his twin katana as he dashed across the stage. The migraine grew in intensity as Dirks neared the ethereal incantation of his former Ally. It acted like a field of gravity, slowing down everything around him. But when Hikari rematerialized, blade in hand, the pain disappeared as just quickly as it had appeared leaving Dirks temporarily disoriented. What the hell? Hikari said something, but Dirks could not hear him. He could only liken the movement of the elf’s lips to an insult.

Then it happened: Hikari changed. A strange darkness wrapped itself around the light elf’s being, completely swallowing the wound Dirks had left on his arm. The former criminal considered a strange idea. Could a dark manifestation be living beneath the light elf’s visage? Could it be the sin of which the Archon spoke? Evil begets evil. If Dirks was right, was it possible that this strange darkness within their opponents was also adding to the animosity the Sons of Terrinore felt for one another? Impossible... The emotions of their team were not being twisted by a deeper power or by some half-hearted scheme. They were twisting them on their own. Dirks took a breath in mid-stride. He was thinking too much—this was only a battle.

Just after Hikari's transformation ended, Dirks came to a stop directly in front of the ‘darker’ elf. He placed his katanas together and sealed them with both hands. “Surprise…” he called out just before slamming the hilts of both weapons towards Hikari’s forehead. He followed the attack by turning his body to the left, swinging his good (right) elbow around to meet the elf’s left temple. As Dirks turned, he caught a glimpse of the battle raging behind Hikari. Thoracis wasn’t really winning either…

[Thoracis]

Thoracis’ eyes went wide as Dirks’ katana gouged deep into Hikari’s shoulder and light enveloped the dark elf once more. All resistance to the blow vanished and Dirks’ momentum nearly toppled him over when suddenly Hikari passed straight though him! Dirks fell to a knee and the ethereal Hikari traveled the length of the stage. The ice mage suddenly found himself seriously doubting that Dirks had conspired against him in setting this match up. It appeared that the situation was much more dire then that. His doubts were expounded as his ice shards shattered on the ground before Elrundir Galadhrim. Cute, Thoracis thought, Elrundir hadn’t even moved an inch.

Elrundir’s words were lost on Thoracis has he suddenly found himself as a worried spectator of Dirks and Hikari’s duel. He had been so sure of Dirks’ plot! But as his partner - the first time Thoracis had thought of Dirks as his partner throughout the entire tournament - charged across the stage at Hikari, he could see that Max was now fighting for nothing more then his survival. He had only meant to use Dirks’ love of Starlynn to win the tournament. No harm was supposed to come to either of them. Now Dirks was stuck battling for his life, pitted against two of the most powerful mages on Althanas, with nothing to protect him but his mundane weapons and skills, not even a partner of his own to fight alongside him as of yet. As something changed about the dark elf and his cloak surrounded him in a shroud of darkness Thoracis thought to shout a cry of warning to Dirks, but Elrundir would not leave him the chance.

…you’re death shall come swiftly.” Thoracis recognized the Raiaeran, bardic magic that followed all to well. He watched Elrundir with a new resolve. “Your song magic parlor tricks won’t save you here,” Thoracis spoke in a soft, leveled tone. If Elrundir had thought to intimidate Thoracis with his previous defensive display then he had greatly underestimated the ice mage. He was resolute now, if it was a display of power Elrundir wanted Thoracis would make one great enough for him and Dirks both. He could feel the shift in the ground just before it happened, not that it would matter for what he had in store. All at once four spears of ice shot forth from the ground, two in front of him and one on each side. Using ice against me? Thoracis thought incredulously. Elrundir would learn a swift lesson. All four pieces of ice struck the barrier created by Thoracis’ anti-magic amulet at once, shattering just as his spell had done before Elrundir. In the wake of the debris Thoracis teleported behind and to the right of Elrundir, just on the edge of the stage. A jet of silvery flame came from behind where Thoracis had been, lighting up the now empty space in the growing darkness of twilight. He watched as Rouge flew back into the sky as unsuccessful as his master had been.

“Is that the best you can do?” It was Thoracis' turn to laugh.

[Arawn]

Hikari’s shape was now a solid shimmering white all over. Among the warring souls within the dark elf, the spirit of light felt oddly at home in this transformation. There was something undeniably familiar about it, which strengthened his control and diluted the vampire within. From his distant spot on the grass, Raiba felt his suspicions confirmed. He, like the drow, had been cursed by a scroll crafted by the same elementalist, known only as Tashronde to both of them. Granted, Raiba saw the scroll’s endowments as more of a gift than anything else. This human’s particular skills were centered on the element of air. It had been Raiba who had kept Hikari no Ashigaru prisoner in his dungeon some years ago, no more than a husk of a drow tortured for information over several arduous months. Upon the white warrior’s escape, his grey-skinned jailor had kept a close eye on him, hoping the dark elf might reveal valued information regarding Tashronde’s scrolls his nemesis. And here it was.

Raiba had long conjectured that the cloak unleashed their true forms. Truth be told, ‘Hikari no Ashigaru’ was not the white warrior’s original name, nor was ‘Raiba Honroy’ that of the grey-skinned human. Before the scrolls, they had been quite different individuals, beyond the mere dyeing of their skin to reflect their mystic alignments. Hikari had been a mild-mannered creature by the name of Legol Darkweaver before his forced possession by the light scroll’s spirit. For anyone counting, he actually had three essences within him, though the third be only a weak whisper. Raiba, in his search for greater understanding of his powers, had discovered that they were born from realms distinctly separate from theirs, dimensions that mirrored the one they now inhabited. It was his belief the cloak somehow served as a conduit for the release of these realms’ energies, permitting those empowered by the scrolls to assume their natural shapes. He believed the glowing creature upon the stage was the real Hikari no Ashigaru.

With his eyes set on this coveted garment, Raiba continued to watch the match.

~*~*~*~*~

The hilts of Max Dirk’s twin katanas came fast upon the white warrior’s forehead. When they connected, an unexpected gong of resounding metal echoed throughout the stage, the drow’s head snapping back with the force. The same noise came when the criminal smashed his elbow against Hikari’s temple, forcing the white warrior to stumble some steps to his right, though most likely injuring his attacker more. He felt the blunt force of the blows, but smiled with the knowledge of a hidden secret. The dark runes upon the cloak had many gifts, one having already been triggered. The vlince material had changed into a thin metallic coating, encasing the drow in his very own armored skin equivalent to damascus. He was aggravated by Dirks’ strikes, but not nearly as much as a common mortal would have been.

“This isn’t just some light show, you fool,” Hikari’s voice came contemptuously.

At that instant, a second of the runes’ boons was activated. Shooting up from the ground, the drow’s already impressive height was quickly doubled. He grew in mere moments, suddenly towering high over his foe at a height of nearly fourteen feet. Now less a combatant in a tournament match and more a juggernaut with a single objective, the titan thrust the arm bearing his falchion downward, actually driving it almost a foot into the stage floor before releasing it, still letting it glow and feed its master.

Dirks was mustering for a third attack against the mage’s metal body when Hikari took his sole mobile hand and wrapped it around the human’s neck, his glowing digits illuminating the man’s sweating face as the katanas fell to the floor. Lifting him up from the ground with unnatural strength granted by a third runic reward, the glowing giant began to laugh maniacally. It was ludicrously empowering to have his opponent in such a helpless position, his darker half subdued and forgotten. Adrenaline flooded his mammoth body once again. With a single tightening of his grasp, his assignment would be done and the contest over with. His aim was so tangibly close to fruition, he could not cease his own laughter.

Actions were accorded with Max Dirks.