The Seventh Level

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

((Closed to Fez the Kid. Permission has been granted by Fez for me to use my level two profile, which has subsequently been approved by Tobias. I already have enough experience to be level two, but I await the physical addition of owed exp to my account.))

Radasanth
One day ago
10pm

The famous Drum and Monkey Tavern was located in the centre of Radasanth, deep within the winding labyrinth of filthy alleyways and grotty passages that comprised the inner workings of the city. It was a crooked, quaint and almost decrepit sort of building, barely propped up by its cracked limestone walls and just about protected from the elements by a brittle slate roof that looked as if it had been held together with tape and spit. Almost any time someone slammed the heavy front door, fragments of splintered shale tile would rain down over the pavement and pepper the vermin scurrying in the gutter below.

Yet, despite its apparent structural poverty, the tavern still boasted a healthy turn out. Through the bird-shit stained glass windows, a handful of oil lanterns burned brightly and the shadows of their patrons jigged merrily about in the night. A chorus of drunken cheers leapt from the crevices of the doors, sending a shiver down the spines of those passing by. These types of back alley inns, traditionally, tended to play host to all sorts of sneaky, low down scum.

Shinsou Vaan Osiris had gone looking for trouble. Once again he found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, but this time he was being unusually pro-active about it whilst his associate Bane Stark coolly watched events unfold from the comfort of the bar. The former emperor of Telgradia, with golden eyes locked firmly on his prey, held the cold edge of Enpera steadily against the jugular vein of the stubby gentleman standing in front of him and, for the final time, challenged the poison dwarf.

“This is the last time I’ll ask. Where is Anubis of Skavia?”

Before any sort of information could be extracted from the patron, a bystander and friend of the offending man decided to clear up any misunderstanding about the reputation of the tavern Shinsou was frequenting. Soon, a wooden bar stool found a whole new purpose as it was launched an admirable distance across the tavern’s breadth before colliding with the back of Shinsou’s skull. The former emperor’s legs folded underneath him, a trickle of blood forking down the back of his pale neck as he fell, and the dwarf went for him.

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit!” The dwarf screamed in Shinsou’s dazed face as he pinned him to the rickety wooden floor, throwing a balled fist into his right cheek. The Telgradian’s head recoiled horribly off the wooden, sticky beer soaked planks that made up the floor.

Everything was fuzzy around the edges. The blow to his head hadn’t done him much good, but Shinsou was still holding his sword, and although he wasn’t in the mood for slaughtering innocents the Telgradian wasn’t partial to getting gang beatings either. Deciding actions were louder than screaming idiots, the bruised man kicked the floor to his left, pushing momentum onto his side, and log rolled with his miserable mount to his right. With a deft thrust forward, Shinsou’s blade slid neatly between the folds of flesh covering the dwarf’s kneecaps. The dwarf cried out in horror while Shinsou, bloodied and beaten, challenged the other patrons with a cold stare, his sword still stuck in his victim. They backed off from around him and his new hostage slowly.

“Oh dear, what a predicament you appear to have gotten yourself into! One twist of my wrist and that nasty looking wound isn’t closing anytime soon.” Shinsou announced with a great deal of smugness tucked away in his voice, gesturing dizzily towards the tip of Enpera. “Now, I asked you a question, and I’m losing patience. Where is Anubis of Skavia?!”

It took less than twenty seconds to get the full story, get the blade out of the dwarf’s leg and get the hell out of the tavern.

The night’s air was bitterly cold for this time of year. Even wrapped in the thick of his trademark white greatcoat and a smattering of thick clothing underneath, the wind chill seemed to cut through Shinsou like an icy, serrated knife as he stood with Bane on the cracked alleyway pavement some minutes away from the chaotic scene they had left behind.

The Telgradian wiped the dwarf’s blood from the flat to the tip of Enpera with a white rag. It was well known that a sword’s worst enemy was rusting, and it was important to ensure that his weapon was well maintained at all times. Shinsou took considerable care to ensure he wasn’t taking any chances with his. Blood had a surprisingly adverse effect on weaker metals and, as it turned out, he would be relying on his weapon a lot from then on. With this in mind carefully sheathed the clean blade into its ivory and marble sheath, neatly lashed to the inside of his greatcoat, and turned to face Bane, who was smirking to himself.

“What?” Shinsou enquired grumpily.

“You, boy,” Bane chortled to himself, pressing an accusing finger into Shinsou’s chest “are quite the handful. You lose one poxy, meaningless fight to some pale-faced adventurer you’ll probably never meet again, and you’re baying for blood! What’s wrong with you man? Get a grip for fuck’s sake, it’s embarrassing.”

The sound of Shinsou’s response rang heavily in Bane’s ears, and echoed through the straight alley with a granulated ambience.

“Once again, Bane, you’ve missed the point!” Shinsou hissed. “This isn’t about pride. This is about rebuilding not just my power, but my life. I will never be able to have a future if I can’t take control of the present, and I can’t do that if everyone around me is getting stronger whilst I mill around and let my ambition atrophy. I want to start by fighting Anubis again, not because he defeated me but because he’s young, hungry and determined, and I need that kind of fight right now.”

Shinsou brushed aside a bang of brown hair and stiffened his arms, straightening his back as he did. Bane sighed, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head.

“Fine, boy. If you think it will help you, I’ll try to set up the fight. Let me put the word out through my contacts. I'll let you know what comes back.”

With that, Bane started edging towards the direction of the main road. Two child shaped blurs bolted past him and disappeared ahead, laughing as they played together. Shinsou turned, paid one last glance to the narrow corridor behind him, and paced in the opposite direction.

There was only one thing on his mind.

The Citadel
Present day

The cylindrical wall of the interior of the Citadel’s portal rippled and crackled as the plasma like substance comprising it bent to the monk’s every whim. Anomalies morphed and swirled in front of Shinsou’s face before screaming into a whirling orbit of white orbs. As this acidic, liquefied existence began to congeal into something resembling reality, the man from Telgradia tried hard to keep the contents of his stomach exactly there, hoping that the arena would take shape sooner rather than later.

As the twisting, stomach-churning nightmare came to an end, suddenly everything faded to black. Shinsou knew his eyes were open, yet he could see nothing. He couldn’t feel anything either. Not his hands, his feet, his arms or legs. There were no sounds. He couldn’t feel the temperature of this new place, or even feel a heartbeat in his own chest. Everything in his mind told him he should be naturally expecting these feelings, yet they were absent.

The monk had done it.

I don’t believe it, Shinsou mused, he actually emulated Kokushi’s seventh level. How is that even possible?

Putting his astonishment aside, Shinsou knew what to expect next, but the process would take a few moments. A cold prickling sensation spread over the top of his right foot. It was slight, at first, but grew more potent with every second, quickly reaching his ankle and the bottom of his shins. A murky purple began to seep through the darkness towards him. He could feel the same cold needles he felt on his feet before sweep across his face as the black void peeled away from him. An ambient purple light slowly revealed his surroundings to him.

The room, if you could call it a room, was smothered in a dense lilac mist that rolled over a dark granite floor and cascaded down from a cracked, mossy stone ceiling thirty foot above. There seemed to be no walls. There was just an expanse of void that stretched on far beyond what the eye could render, obscured by the thick steam-like substance pouring down from above and columns of black and grey marble that jutted out of the floor at ten foot intervals. As the feeling returned to his face, Shinsou could begin to taste a familiar electricity in the air, a static charge that curdled the blood and left an awful metallic aftertaste on his tongue. Then suddenly, although muffled at first, sounds began to erupt around him.

The hissing of steam and the snapping of an electrical current echoed around the room, whilst the sound of his breathing and even his heartbeat pounded through his head.

Unlike the last time he had experienced Kokushi’s seventh, and most dangerous, level, Shinsou’s senses had returned to him hastily. He remembered disdainfully how he had awoken here after having his soul stripped forcibly from his body, and his identity all but erased from existence. This place was harsh on all living things that fell into its jurisdiction, designed to torture to within a modicum of death before healing its victims to start the cycle all over again. The former emperor of Telgradia had been no exception either. Now, though, he could now feel everything below his neck and above his feet. A few seconds more, and all his senses would be in perfect working order.

This was unusual for Kokushi.

Perhaps it was was too difficult to emulate, even for one of the Citadel's own Shinsou pondered to himself, surveying the scenery around him. After all, this prison was meant for much worse than me. It would be a gargantuan task indeed to replicate its power.

It was then that Shinsou noticed his throat was starting to become dry and was burning from inhaling some of the electrically charged mist. As his lungs struggled to cope with the dense, searing haze, Shinsou made his way fifty paces north to a part of the ethereal room where the creamy lilac mist had thinned.

Here, he would wait for Anubis to show up.

[Fez_The_Kid]

A young fire burned and guttered in a rising flame, singeing firewood that crackled at three second intervals beneath the cold, evening wind; which was so strong that a copse of conifer trees about the campfire leaned to one side in response.The snow-capped summit of Trunn Rise appeared, an abrupt elevation of the ground thrust into the night sky. Somewhere in the opposite direction--a hundred leagues off--shone a flickering beacon in the gloom. Archen.

Anubis of Skavia sat on a log, the bark dry and crazed with cracks. He heaved a sigh, picked up a twig and tossed it into the campfire. Which was the only source of light this forsaken Salvarian wilderness could boast having, illuminating but a few paces about it. Enough to reach my sword before a Drave my throat. The youth stretched his leg, grazing the gravel earth underneath.

The news that were bound to arrive any moment then would be quite unsurprising. He did not know to whom it was related, and why. But it’s something to do with the Citadel. I damn hope I don’t have to travel there again; two countries and almost a couple weeks on a boat. His Raiaerian gelding stood quietly beside a hedge, boringly grazing the undergrowth. They had spent the last three days encamped, and still word has not returned of the issue.

He then sensed it, the tugging at the strings of reality. The air was sucked in: a blinding flash of light and a sorcerous discharge saw Plague beating his wings in descent. Anubis watched the eagle land, face bearing a hopeful look.

“Greetings, Plague,” he said, nodding. The portal wound closed as fast as it had opened, and here its user stood, talons poised motionless over the log.

Portals usually had their tolls on their users, and Plague was no different from the usual Raiaerian sorcerer. The eagle glanced at his master. “Greetings, sir.”

“Took you long.” Anubis picked up another twig and used it to poke the campfire. The east hinted at the proximity of the day’s first lights. Dawn was close.

“My apologies, sir. I had quite the adventure traveling to the prosperous Coronian capital,” he said, the otherwise animal tone in his voice hinting at cross mockery, and Anubis perceived so with a smile. “On my apparent ‘arrival’ there, I found myself in the middle of a bone-dry sand basin!”

“Sand? Don’t tell me…”

“Aye, sir, I was actually in the very heart of Fallien.” The young Salvarian stifled a laugh. “I know not, or why, the portal--the Thayne-forsaken portal--decided to deceive me, especially during urgent times such as this. I even waited--”

“Save it, Plague,” Anubis cut in, tone suddenly serious, his hand raised up to restrain the long, exhausting rants the eagle had ever been infamous for. And for a sage-like eagle, you're somewhat loquacious, Plague. “What’s the word?”

“It is your previous opponent, sir: Shinsou van Osiris.”

Anubis frowned. “What does he want?” he questioned, the image of the once dead Telgradian seeping into his heart like acid into bronze. What, to avenge his wounded pride? You cocky fool...

“Why, a re-match, of course. We ought to make haste -- I believe he’s officially gone mad; the monks have told me he’s had a bar fight in a tavern somewhere in Radasanth in search of you.”

“He must be pretty pissed over his loss from last time,” he murmured, eye unwavering from the campfire. Anubis turned to the eagle. “Patrol the main road north of here; we set off this morning." He sighed, "I am really in no mood to travel all that fu--”

“Sir,” Plague cut in.

“What?”

The eagle gestured with his sable wing. Once again the air was sucked in, the edges of his sorcerous gate crackling purple streaks. It was vaguely reminiscent to the Salvarian of the Shinsou's magic.

Anubis shook his head. “Over my dead body. You know I hate portals, Plague.”

“I insist, sir. It’ll take us far too long -- even if we make haste. We ought to be there before sunset; there’s simply no other way.” The eagle beat his wings again, tilting his bald head.

The youth heaved a sigh and let his shoulders sag. “Fine," he said, "let me repack first.” Anubis straightened.

“Aye, sir.”

​Hours Later

“Here we are.”

Plague’s voice resonated across the main hall, a vast gallery of royal marble that stretched a few dozen paces forth. A second portal waited at its end, spurting streaks of sorcery at randomly timed intervals. Below them was a moquette crafted of the finest materials, running along the passageway and pointing to a no-one, especially a Salvarian, could resist taking. The monks were as usual shady folk, faces hidden in the shadow of their cowls.

Anubis had requested that Plague and he would be left alone.

“Are you ready, sir?” the eagle asked, poised over his master’s shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m going.” Anubis said firmly. Without turning, he glanced at the eagle. “Alone.”

“But, sir--”

“That’s final, Plague. You forget last time you came along?” he questioned. “I’m talking about my fight with Mordelain, if you’re still wondering.”

Without a word, the sable eagle leapt off Anubis’ shoulder and beat his wings into a flight in midair--in the portal’s direction. Anubis furrowed his brows. Till his companion turned and flew past him, exiting the tower with a resonating caw. Damn, I must have put him out, he thought. The Salvarian then legged it to the crackling gate waiting for him.

Portal-traveling was never something one should enjoy practicing, and going through twice -- almost consecutively -- was a thumping strain on the Salvarian’s body. Nevertheless, he had arrived in one piece. And my opponent has as well, apparently.

Anubis found himself crouched over a stretch of dark granite. A thick blanket of mist rose in a violet haze and stifled the chamber. Faint silhouettes of pillars appeared against a seemingly sourceless light, intimidatingly lined up rows of concrete marble. The duplicates never ceased, till they disappeared beyond what any normal eye could see. The mist was quite… unusual, not the one he would find in the backwoods of Salvar -- which is enigmatic as it is. He looked up; the ceiling was stone, cracked, as if about to buckle under the weight of a god.

The chamber came to life as steam sibilated harshly in his ears. Anubis tensed at the sudden burst of an electric discharge, the spot of the explosion unseen. Powered by electricity, an energy discharge runs hidden in the walls--quite similar to a portal. But I am neither a Dark nor a High elf-- damn if I know shit about magic. Or electricity, even.

A flame scorched the Salvarian’s throat as he inhaled the mist. The more time he spent within the murk, the more he felt the flame reaching down to fiddle with his lungs. To his relief, it soon cleared, confirming that the chamber was indeed endless. For as far as he could see, in any case.

The footfall of someone approaching from his south quickly captured his attention, and out of the clearing mist Shinsou stepped out. Clad in a bone-white greatcoat -- a striking contrast to the dark setting the monks had seemingly chosen for them, -- his opponent arrived.

There you are. Anubis set a wary hand on the hilt of his sword, where he carefully eyed Shinsou’s, the one that had once almost seen him dead. Enpera. As much as he had not prepared for another duel, he was there now; and as ever, he admired good competition-- and here he stood. The Salvarian grinned.

“Greetings, Shin.”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

((Placeholder to prevent this from going to the un-resolved section. Working on a post later tonight.))

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

At first the figure in front of Shinsou was no more than a shimmer of mist that diffused through the cold, thick haze ahead of him. As he approached it drifted closer towards him and became slightly out of focus, like a poorly taken photograph. It wasn't until Shinsou turned around a pillar and stepped within ten foot of it that it congealed into a form.

That form was first nothing more than the silhouette of a man. Then, suddenly, it shot into focus as the crest of a wave of obscuring purple smog rolled up from the floor and dissipated into the black.

Staring back at him were those now familiar golden eyes. Though murky in colour, they seemed tempered and wild, seemingly piercing through Shinsou’s skin to his very core. They were truly a stark contrast to the former emperor’s own calm and subtle gaze through the mist. Bangs of Anubis’s shoulder length hair seemed to beat against the force of the icy lilac haze, and the tail and lapels of the warrior’s own black greatcoat flapped slightly as more of the dreaded Kokushi vapour rose from the floor to replace that which had evaporated.

“Greetings, Shin.”

For a moment all was silent, but then Shinsou could hear a heavily distorted echo of Anubis’s hoarse voice rap the granite ceiling and bounce off each of the stone pillars surrounding him. Here, sound behaved strangely. You could throw a rock at the ceiling, and the resulting echo would take three seconds to pierce the dense fog that lined every conceivable surface of this prison. The chill in the air was also odd. Shinsou was more accustomed to these temperatures meaning moisture, but inside Kokushi it was tinder dry and dehydrated him every bit as fast as summer heat.

The former emperor, once known as the Golden King, took a step backwards. Then, Shinsou spoke.

“So, you found out my name, Anubis.” The Telgradian observed calmly. “I had not disclosed it in our last encounter, for I felt there was little need.”

Shinsou remembered why he had organised this little reunion, even though he didn’t want to. Anubis had taught him a painful lesson, and although he admired the warrior for defeating him so easily Bane had been right about the emperor’s feelings all along. This was about avenging a defeat and restoring some pride, some feeling of worth. Whether the adversary was worthy, hungry, determined or whatever was irrelevant.

What was relevant, though, was that Shinsou now knew Anubis could push him. He would use that as a springboard to greater heights.

“Shinsou Vaan Osiris of Telgradia. I must ask your forgiveness, Anubis, for I failed to live up to expectations in our last encounter and that was a mistake I won’t be making again. I thank you for accepting my challenge, and now you must come at me with everything you have. If you don’t…I’ll grind you into the dirt!”

His expression curdled into a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf, and the mist made it seem as if he had drifted closer to Anubis without taking a step. The thoughts of the battle to come accelerated inside his head. He wanted them to slow so he could concentrate but they wouldn’t. His heart was hammering inside his chest. Were it not for the biting cold the battle hardened man wouldn't have noticed the air at all.

“Senkai: Enpera Hitsugi!”

Curling wisps of Kokushi’s resident fog stroked Shinsou’s face as he dipped his head and raised Enpera ninety degrees to his shoulders. His treasured damascus blade began to radiate a strong silver light, and the Telgradian found himself savouring the familiar sensation of his fingers tingling with the power of a Kurai sword’s Senkai once again. The light smothered him, covering him in a glimmering blanket, and then suddenly sucked out a sizeable portion of Kokushi’s smoke. Flicking strands of brown matted hair out of his face, the Telgradian snapped his head up and smiled slightly as the silver light that had manifested from his sword formed a cloud of grey vapour that his skin absorbed on contact.

As the light illuminated their little corner of the vast expanse of Kokushi, the Telgradian no longer felt like a man, or an Emperor. Instead, Shinsou had the look of a demon carved onto his visage, one that was looming above the world, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury, wielding Enpera menacingly.

The black void of night returned, wiping away the remnants of the Senkai’s light, and Shinsou felt the intoxicating power of his Enpera Hitsugi envelop his body. Now, with his Kurai sword released, his agility would be double that of a normal human.

Shinsou wasted no more time, starting his short but blurry kamikaze sprint over the bleak granite floor and between the pillars, the smooth surface of Enpera held straight and true to his side. Dancing upon the murky battleground of Kokushi with a fresh new fluidity he was lacking before, the Golden King closed in quickly on Anubis, feigning a thrust with his deadly sword forward before spinning at the last second, attempting to catch his impressive foe on the backswing.

[Fez_The_Kid]

The arena was hot, the air dry. Breathing the lilac mist had afforded Anubis a revolting tang of metal, somewhat jarring that the swordsman sensed a hole gaped in his jerkin-covered scrag. Hankering for a drink, the youth considered, is not of much help either. Young, wild explosions crackled in the backdrop, brief flashes of electric blue coloring the receding murk. Good thing I didn’t let Plague tag along… he’d have dropped dead within the first minute. Anubis raised his head.

The Telgradian stood within the lilac mist, like a lighthouse cocooned by frothing whitecaps aside the Salvic waters. His gold-eyed gaze quietly studied the young Salvarian. Save for the greatcoat he now donned, change had not affected the man much. Anubis had faced off with the sorcerer once in a world that had him, and likely Shinsou, questioning their sanity. Although it concluded with Anubis’ triumph, the fight had been arguably tied; Shinsou with his sorcery, Anubis his speed and guile.

The youth furrowed his brows. I’d dare say it’s a different story here. Osiris, he reckoned, must have readied himself for this reunion since his loss. Whilst Anubis had not expected to see himself fighting the once-dead man again. Their second battle would consequently end one-sided. And it won’t be mine.

Nevertheless, they were both present, both prepared to exchange thrusts, blows, and all shapes of sorcerous onslaughts. Though Anubis had not prepared as quite, the young Salvarian still had a new ability up his sleeve. The mist thinned as the first move appeared.

A three foot sword emerged above Shinsou’s shoulder, a bone-white blade made from damascus. Enpera. You’re still the same; huge, menacing, and murderous. You’ll be pleased to meet my iron sword again. The sorcerer uttered a few words in a loud, authoritative voice like a command. The weapon's compliance appeared in the form of a blinding silver light, scattering across the dark prison cell from the single-edged sword. The swordsman rose a backhanded palm to shield his eyes.

The light flickered, sputtered, then died.

Anubis lowered his hand. Looks like he’s pretty serious on winning this time. “Why’d I agree to take part in this?” he muttered, sighing. The sorcerer’s footfall sounded across the timeless chamber, where its owner’s frame tore across the space in a blurry flash. Anubis manage to barely shift into a fighting stance and draw his sword in time to meet the the Telgradian’s thrust, sending him two paces back. A hairbreadth between the blades, the sorcerer suddenly spun on his heel, an attempt to dupe a conscious Anubis.

The Salvarian’s sword chanced to meet the huge katana’s wrath. The contact resulting in a harsh clank, his iron weapon skidded briefly along the greater shaft, and jumped out of his grasp. The sword skidded once more against the granite floor, and settled.

Cursing, the youth quickly turned on his feet, raising a leathered foot and whipping it across toward the Telgradian’s pale visage.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The ethereal effects of Kokushi’s seventh level were already beginning to burden his opposite number.

Even in the few seconds he had to observe Anubis during his sprint, Shinsou noticed, with some satisfaction in his countenance, this warrior looked particularly bothered by the parching heat whilst the former emperor of Telgradia was instead now finding himself gradually acclimatizing to the harsh conditions. However, that itself was soon to be a moot point. If the monks had truly emulated the horrors of this unforgiving penitentiary, it would not be long before that acclimatization started to wane. Even having been imprisoned here in the shadows and subjected to its hellish whims for three years, Shinsou knew that one did not simply learn to cope with the effects, and that eventually they would take their toll on them both.

As he closed down his opponent, dashing between two smoke-smothered rows of the cracked and mossy stone pillars scattered throughout the strange room, Shinsou’s sweat-less grip was so tight around Enpera’s ivory hilt that his knuckles whitened with the sudden impact of their crossed blades. The two weapons collided with an ear-splitting metallic pang, and the sharp, polished edge of his kurai sword momentarily bit into its cruder iron counterpart, before grinding harshly down the length of the sword. The Telgradian, his fist clenched even tighter around his smooth guard, bore his pearl white teeth as he further pressed his weight towards into the lower half of his blade. Anubis was strong, but the momentum that the Golden King had carried with his strike was enough to force the blade from his opponents grasp. With one last pulse of strength from the Telgradian, Anubis’s sword was liberated from his clutches.

To think that Enpera Hitsugi has already regained this much of its potential after so long…this is most pleasing indeed.

Shinsou’s golden eyes flitted, for a second, to his left. They followed the silvery object between two of the many stone pillars littering Kokushi until it clattered onto the floor and subsequently disappeared beneath the smothering blanket of purple mist that hugged the dark granite floor. Suddenly, from the fringe of his vision, a shadow snatched at him from the recesses of the void. Anubis had reacted quickly and aggressively to being disarmed and had hastily pivoted on his foot, snapping his other leg round at breakneck speed to try and catch Shinsou on the counterattack.

He’s quick, but now he will learn the gap between us.

In a battle of equals, the violent kick that Anubis had executed would likely have caused Shinsou a severe injury. The timing, the form and the momentum behind the strike was commendable, a brutal attack that would no doubt break bones upon contact. But this was no longer a battle on a level playing field. In their last encounter, Shinsou had been at the mercy of Anubis’s speed and it had been his undoing. Now, he had Enpera Hitsugi in his repertoire. With his increased agility, Shinsou planted his right foot into the ground and on his toes pivoted and spun away from the arc of the kick, rolling his body quickly around that of his opponent. As he did, his white greatcoat trailed behind him like a sail, catching waves of the thick purple smog and dispersing them around him.

Anubis’s kicking leg sunk back to the floor, having failed to connect, and now Shinsou was in control. They were almost back to back.

This was the moment.

He opened his free left hand, spreading the fingers wide. Within two seconds thin, forking tendrils of black and purple convulsed and converged around each other to form a seven inch long dagger of dark matter within the palm. There was a snapping noise as the strange, phantom like mist of the prison realm met the form of the weapon, the two chemicals reacting violently and repulsing each other, but then in an instant the weapon was solid. Shinsou remembered well the lessons from his last encounter with Anubis. To counter his speed, Shinsou had allowed himself to be slashed and held the weapon in his own body to allow him to initiate a counterattack at close range. A careful man, the Telgradian would not have allowed Anubis an opportunity to use the same tactic on him, but without his sword this was now an impossibility for his enemy. Still back-to-back with his opponent, staring into the misty, murky void ahead of him, Shinsou flipped the dagger round and with all his might drove the point towards Anubis’s kidneys.

[Fez_The_Kid]

The moccasin traveled crosswise, missed, and tore through space the Telgradian had just occupied; landing back to settle on the floor black as the depths of night. Like a nebulous specter Shinsou moved, as if vanishing and--as Anubis caught him from the corner of his eye--to reappear behind the Salvarian. Shit, he’s faster than before. Anubis spun meanwhile on the same foot. Can’t let him fool me.

Thoughts of such an occurrence was an image engraving itself on the abstract wall of his mind, defying his every command to begone. Like ravenous larvae, it fed upon his qualms, his own undoing.

As he chanced to meet his adversary, Anubis captured a glimpse of one side of the timeless arena. Within a half-second interval black, lilac, and blue formed as one hazy squall. And within the same interim, he thought, Things… his eye settled, deadlocked on the sorcery that ensued. Have taken a turn…

Shinsou had his free hand outstretched, a pale hand held forth and illuminated by black and alluring amaranth. A small, albeit murderous blade conjured; a crepitating dirk liable to do what the sorcerer’s Enpera had once failed at doing. All this transpired in nothing more than a second, where Anubis tensed at the advent of this newborn power. Naught but his hands in his immediate arsenal, the swordsman used his organic appendages to stop a likely mortal blow intended for his flank.

A crash recurred athwart, the iterating of a sound twisted by the meeting of mortal flesh and nefarious sorcery. A bead of sweat oozed at the swordsman’s veined temples. Anubis could feel Shinsou’s strength behind the weapon; a resolve to exact revenge from his once uprooter, to murder him for his own bittersweet justice; buckling under the strain as his heels stamped the earth.

He’d managed to hinder the hazardous blade from carrying out its directive, its glowing tip menacingly snarling between his palms. It was inches from his furrowed face.

“When will… you idiots…" he mouthed. "Learn?!”

The youth ducked, letting Shinsou push into the space, planted a palm on the ground, and spun. Once, his foot had sought to scourge the enemy; now, whizzing as if on a pivot, it wished to feed the cruel Telgradian the dirt of his own domain.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Shinsou, still back to back with his opponent and surrounded by the darkness of Kokushi, couldn’t see what had happened to his attack. He could only feel it.

The first thing he felt was a sudden, jarring resistance against the drive of the dagger in his left hand. Anubis had used an incredible amount of foresight and intuition to predict the location and timing of the attack, and had spun and clenched his palms around the shadowy blade of the dagger like a vice before the moment of impact. Taken by surprise by the tenacity of his opponent, the Telgradian had now made his first mistake by allowing his focused mind to become distracted. Too worried about driving the blade home towards its intended target, Shinsou poured all of his might into his left arm.

Come on, move!

It was at that second that he realised the folly of his actions. Instead of doing the sensible thing and simply letting go of the blade, using his agility to his advantage and escaping to a safe distance, he had habitually held on to the weapon and consequently rooted himself to the spot. By the time the calculations and estimations of time and distance ran from the nerves in his brain to his feet, it was already too late. No matter how fast you are, if your brain can’t process the information quickly enough to get instructions to the extremities of the body, you wouldn’t be able to move.

The second feeling was much harsher.

Unknown to Shinsou, Anubis had suddenly jerked forward and stepped in towards the stoic Telgradian, counterattacking with a low, powerful sweep. A shooting pain shot up Shinsou’s calf as the outstretched leg connected, the recoil of the attacking buckling his legs, forcing the dagger from his grip and sending him crashing to the floor in a crumpled heap. Another pain bolted up his right shoulder like a lightning bolt as his shoulderblade awkwardly collided with the granite slabs of Kokushi’s floor.

As he struggled on the floor, Enpera still locked within the grasp of his right hand, Shinsou could begin to taste that electricity in the air again, a cold static that curdled the blood and left an awful metallic aftertaste on his tongue. With the focus of battle knocked out of him, the Telgradian’s senses began to bring the room to life again. The hissing of steam, the snapping of an electrical current, the sound of his breathing and even his heartbeat echoed through his head. A silhouette paced through the sickly marbled expanse of black and purple, distorted by the smoke in the same way scenery might be blurred by heat in a desert. The figure stopped short of him, just enough to ensure his features were mostly obscured.

He didn’t know whether or not the figure was a fragment of his imagination, or the looming Anubis about to bring impending doom down upon him. All he could do was grip Enpera tightly, and wait for an opening. There was no time to get back to his feet. He still had his agility, and with the right counterattack, Shinsou could get himself back in the fight, but he would do it from the floor – a floor that was smothered in a dense lilac mist.

[Fez_The_Kid]

Anubis’ foot had found its mark, a contact at the calf which saw the enemy tumble onto the mist-stifled ground with a thud. The magic dagger had found its way out of Shinsou’s grip, descended to settle next to his white-clad frame. The contact of both objects with the granite echoed in the timeless arena like a chiming bell. It urged Anubis to retire-- and to find my damn sword.

The Salvarian swept through the mist, which he’d thought was receding but seemed to have been only fooling the fighting side; it had never moved from its place, nor had it lost its brazen smack. Nevertheless, the sword had not settled far, where the youth’s gaze caught its shadow behind the blanket of purple and winking blue.

There!

Shinsou had probably not recovered from that fall. His face says that he probably felt that hit, and if I seem to understand facial expressions, he should stay there a few more minutes. Perfect. Anubis retrieved the weapon, tilting it under his gaze in search of any damage. The blade’s tip had weathered slightly, lost its sharpness. And not from its clash with Shin’s sword, it seems.Well, it was either that or I’d be diced meat, he considered.

With the sword losing of its usefulness, the swordsman slipped it into its scabbard with a disappointed sigh.

Then he held out his arms.

Sparks sputtered between the swordsman’s gauntlets, the clank of metal sounding as a chain dropped in his grasp from the hidden otherworld of magic. The strings, stretching six feet and glowing red, filled the vicinity with blazing colors. Before long we’ll have ourselves a room full of skittles, he mused, grinning. “Hey, Shinsou!

What are you doing over there? Need some rest? Could conjure a bed for you, you know--just have to ask. If you intend on carrying on with this fight, it’s not like I’m going anywhere. Hope I don’t have to explain to you how to get here,” he exclaimed. “Or I should say, crawl here! Ha! Ha!”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Agreed as a no judgment and ends in a draw.

Shinsou Vaan Osiris receives 550 EXP and 55 GP

Fez the Kid receives 325 EXP and 45 GP