Those words were all that the Mystic needed to hear. With a sigh he pushed himself up off the ground, turned, and bowed to the woman he had been fighting up until this point.

“The honor was mine, milady,” he said simply as a magic portal appeared next to him. The green circle in the air next to the mage shimmered slightly as he kept his eye on the woman. “Just something to keep in mind for next time, though... This place won’t let you truly die. The same goes for your partner. When you leave it will be as though everything that happened here were little more than an illusion.” He grinned and rubbed his shoulder with one hand.

“Though there are times when the pain will carry through,” he said, chuckling. His smile dropped from his face very quickly as he motioned back the way she came. “Get your friend and get out of here. I hope next time we face off, it will be without fear and without malice.” With those few words, the young man disappeared into the portal, leaving for now the time-space put to use for these battles in Hromagh’s honor.

As he stepped through the door to the main area of the Citadel once more, Rehtul Orlouge considered the fight that had just passed him. He had learned something much more interesting than some simple battle tactics this time. As he walked, he noticed a bench in the middle of the hallway, pressed against the right wall. He shrugged and took a seat on the old iron. He smiled in satisfaction even as the old thing groaned under his weight.

Slowly, Rehtul slumped over, elbows resting just above his knees and eyes facing toward the immaculate white marble floor of the building. His long white hair hid all besides the tiles of the floor from view. Slowly, a bout of uncontrollable laughter built up in his chest. It started with chuckling, then amped up to true laughter. With a sudden jerk, he was looking at the ceiling, the roiling laughs erupting from his mouth like lava from a volcano.

As it finally started to die down, the young Mystic slumped back down. His chest, arms, and hands were shaking uncontrollably.

“Showing mercy is a funny thing, isn’t it?” the monk from earlier said as he placed a hand on the younger man‘s shoulder.

He sat down next to Rehtul and continued, “This isn’t your first battle, I’m sure, but it’s the first where you’ve actually spared someone’s life, isn’t it?” The monk smiled as the mage nodded and patted his shoulder lightly.

“What you’re experiencing is a combination of fear and elation. By offering the white flag, you opened yourself up to a sucker punch that would have ended your life. That fact that your offer of peace was accepted meant that you survived...”

“You’re telling me I’m laughing at death?”

“In a manner of speaking. I think, though, that you’re more laughing at how strange life can be. Stew over it a little bit more, and see what you think. Come back to see us again, find out for yourself what the Citadel is really about. I promise you it’s not just about battles and death. It’s about an appreciation for life, as well,” the monk said as he stood up and began to walk off.

“You’ll get to hear more puns if you do, too,” he said. He ducked easily as a lone needle of ice flew past his head and dug into the wall behind him. “Now you’ll definitely be hearing more of my puns. See ya around, kid.”