I'm So Sick

[Ashla]

I'm So Sick.jpg

Closed to Rhaenar Talon.

Falling down again...
Chances of reaching the top?
It is nothing.
Somebody save my soul...

Ashla sighed as she paced around the empty room. She was inside the Citadel, extremely bored and waiting for a challenge. This room though, showed no changes of that; it was dark, dusty, and lifeless. Ashla growled, "Fireleaf! I want to do something!"

Ashla's cat, Fireleaf, was seated close by her. Since there weren't any chairs or beds to curl up on, the stripped tom had to deal with with cold floor. He had been washing himself, but he looked up at his mistress's dizzy pacing and meowed. He then took no more notice of her as he returned to his cleaning. Ashla scoffed, "You could show more concern for me..." Ashla tapped her steel sword, placed in it's sheath. Ashla hadn't used this thing in a long while, and she was dying for some sort of entertainment. But in this so boring room it seamed as if there was nothing to do but die of boredom.

Ashla rolled her eyes, "C'mon, Fireleaf, we're leaving." She flopped her long, dark hair behind her and stalked for the door. Then she heard her cat screech behind her. He sounded so aggravated and upset, Ashla could even tell how his venom was spat from his mouth. Ashla knew Fireleaf didn't hiss like this unless he or his mistress was in serious danger. Thus, Ashla stopped dead in her tracks and drew her long-sword. She swirled behind her expecting some kind of enemy... Instead, she saw a small gem in the center of the room.

Ashla tilted her side, This is weird. Ashla stepped up to the stone and bent down to it. It glowed a dark purple, there was something off about this jewel. Ashla reached out, daring to touch it, then a voice whispered in her head,The only way to win this gem is to beat the challenge."

Challenge! Ashla's ears rang with the word that brought so much excitement to her! "Challenge??" She questioned, "Oh! Yes! Some fun!" She jumped in her extreme excitement, "At last!! I-" Ashla stopped right there, the area around her had suddenly changed. She must have been so caught up in her excitement that she hadn't noticed that the lame room she had resided in before had suddenly changed.

Where she was now was completely different.

Where a blank ceiling covered with cobwebs once was, now there was a blue sky with a blazing sun. Where there were four walls that trapped all into the dark, there were no walls left, just the wide open air. The dust infested floor Fireleaf had been washing on just a couple minutes ago was now a sand bathed ground. Ashla's cat jumped inter her arms, hissing loudly; he must have been just as shocked as Ashla was! They were in a desert.

Great... Ashla welcomed a brief breeze that flew over them- then resented it moments later when the wind blew some sand into her face. Ashla coughed, "Gah..." When she had finished rubbing the sand out of her watery eyes, Ashla looked again and noticed that the gem was still gleaming, even in the bright daylight, and was in a glass container in where the center of the room was.

All that there is needed left, Ashla thought to herself, remembering her last visit to the Citadel, ​Is my opponent.

[Rhaenar Talon]

Sitting almost stone still on the mismatched plank floor, Rhaenar awaited for something, anything to happen. The drunk patrons of the Dancing Sparrow spoke of the Citadel with words of wonder and amazement. They say it was a place unlike any place in Althanas, a place where a man could make money without the care of his life coming to an end. He arched his neck back placing his head against the cool touch of the grey slab of stone and laughed, "Amazing. This place is far from amazing, its dull and lifeless. Is this what the Outsider's truly believe is magic?!" The true detail that the patrons gave was the ability for the Citadel to change its scenery like no other. The Citadel was able to morph into any scenery from or out of this world.

[Rhaenar Talon]

The chants grew louder and louder as the puissant crimson sword was slowly lifted above the soon to become victim of the blade's insatiable hunger for death. Behind the sword was a man, he was now the Outsider to this strange world. He was born under the basking sun of the fire above the sky, he had sand burning through his veins. He was of Fallien blood, and his name was Rhaenar. Rhaenar the Terror, is what the locals of the Citadel dubbed him since he has never lost a fight since his first step onto this ever changing arena. That name seem to change Rhaenar, he was not the wide-eyed Fallien man who was taken back by the wonders of the Outside World. Now he was gladiator - a man of the arena - who was tainted by the chants and the blood into a killer who looked for the crowds cheers as he skewered the dying man through.

Now here he was again - like many other times since the taint had began taking control over Rhaenar - waiting for the command of the crowd to decide the fate of his next victim. Rhaenar triumphantly holds the sword high above his head as he strolls around his fallen opponent, the crowds cheering grows louder and more confident, "Shall he die or live?" Almost like they were all one living organism the crowd speaks as one with a defiant yes. Smiling he grabs the hilt of the sword with his other hand and swings the sword down into the chest of his opponent. The man groans and blood is coughed up into the face of Rhaenar. Triumphantly, he stalks across the arena stabbing his crimson blade into the air; the crowd cheering grew louder and louder at each thrust. The cheers soon become deafening, and he closes his eyes with his hilt of his blade and palm of his other hand pressed against his ears.

"Damn fools, shut th-" He stops in his track as he opens his eyes and finds the cheering crowd replaced with a simple grey stoned room. He drops his hands from his sides and takes a step forward, the floor shutters under his weight and let out a sharp cracking noise. "Shit, these damn monks and their magic. Cannot even create a secure floor." he complains to nobody as he settles upon the rickety floor since there was nothing to sit upon.

It seem like the hours flew by as he awaited for his next challenge in this barren room; the only thing Rhaenar looked for was the creaking of the rickety floor as he moved his weight from one side to the other. Groaning lightly in boredom he changes his sight from one of the four barren walls to another, except this wall was not empty. A simple wooden door was there now that was not there before. "Finally, I swear these monks like fucking with me." he complained. Pushing off the floor causing another wave of shaking he headed for the door and pushed it open.

Spread out across him was miles of miles of sand; however, this was no simple sand. This sea of sand was the Fallien desert sand, and his heart skipped a beat as he stared out across the large expanse of sand. He grips the frame of the door and clutches his chest as he stares out across his desert, his home, his life. Rhaenar takes a shaky step onto the sand, enjoying the warmth of the sun. The basking heat of the sun burned away the taint, he wavers as he realizes the error of the enjoyment he grew towards taking lives of his opponent.

A cough shakes him from his internal struggle in the realization of the change he went through during his battles in the Citadel. Across from him was a brown-headed girl, his opponent. Taking a deep breathe he steadies himself and draws his sword pointing at the girl, "You will fall under the cold steel of my blade as I redeem myself from my past mistakes."

[Ashla]

Another gust of wind blew towards her. Ashla closed her eyes to avoid the sand again. When the wind calmed Ashla opened her eyes again; and there was her opponent.

He was a human, young man with olive skin and black hair. He wore a breastplate and carried a couple weapons; a black steel sword, an iron dirk, and some other kind of spiky weapon on his arm. He also wore a leather helmet, and some other pieces of armor here and there. Ashla knew she didn't have any armor at all, so she would have to watch herself. However, knowing that like her, he used melee weapons, Ashla was convinced she would be able to at least scratch him despite his armor. Her opponent pulled out his sword and spoke to her, “You will fall under the cold steel of my blade as I redeem myself from my past mistakes.”

Ashla jerked her head, sending her hair flying to her back. Her hair was growing, when she had first set out the day her uncle had been murdered, her hair had only reached down to her shoulders. Now, her hair had grown down to her lower back. While Ashla liked her hair, she knew today she would have a disadvantage with it- long hair and hot weather didn't go well together. Ashla was already beginning to sweat in the current heat; Ashla knew she would only feel hotter and sweat even more with how long her hair was. Ashla knew that like her hair, she had grown in strength; she could beat this guy any day! She stopped though, knowing not to underestimate her opponent- like he had apparently underestimated her. She would still have to be careful.

Ashla tilted her head, “Wow, only a couple seconds in here and you’re already acting all heroic.” A smirk spread across the teenager’s face as she drew her long sword, “And you don’t even know who your opponent is.” Once again, the wind started to blow, sending the wind blowing towards her. Ashla drew her blade up and placed it in front of her eyes. Guarding them from the sandy gusts. When the wind died down she slightly drew her blade down to where it covered her nose, “But don’t worry.” She continued the words she had started, “I have the exact same issue.”

[Rhaenar Talon]

Rhaenar did not even give the naive girl a glance as twinkle of light caught his attention. He stare past the naive girl, past her sword, past the swirling intricate designs of sand that dance hand in hand with the dry desert breeze, and past the sandy horizon that goes on for miles and miles. He looks into the sun, the all familiar sun. The mark of his home. Tearing his eyes away from the sight, that seem to pull at his heartstrings, like a harpist playing a harp; he turns back to his opponent a calming serenity seeming to cloak him.

As the breeze blows by his shoulder, causing the young girl's hair to lift and flutter around he squats down and brings his left foot back letting his weight rest on them. His feet grind into the grains of sands as he launches off towards the girl. His heart was racing as his feet pounded against the hard packed sands, adrenaline was pumping through his entire being. It was such a new sensation from what he felt since he first started fighting in the Citadel. Now he felt like he was fighting for something. He was fighting for redemption, for him to honor his past and to keep hold of the person he was before the addiction that was battle took hold of him.

With his sword in his left hand he takes a heavy step with his right foot and springs forward. He twists his body to the side once he lands with his left foot and stabs at her chest. With a tight grip he holds the knuckleduster and swings his right hand up in an uppercut at her chin.

[Ashla]

Ashla pulled her sword down immediately when she realized he was running towards her with his arm weapon. He stepped to the side and aimed towards her chest. With what time she had Ashla realized better than to try to block an attack like this and quickly stepped to the left, the golden sand kicking below her and her hair flying. The agile girl raised her sword and slipped behind his back. She spun around and quickly aimed a swipe at his back as her own began to sweat from the vast heat of the desert, her long hair already beginning to get wet her sweaty forehead as well.

[Rhaenar Talon]

The execution of his assault was nearly unavoidable; however, the nimble little girl was able to wrap her way around his own body and catch him unguarded; he was not going to make that same mistake again with her. Luckily, he was still clothed in a iron breastplate that deflected the blow, sending her blade off to one of the other sides. The stark loudness of the blow of steel against iron echoed across the vast emptiness of the desert; he shoots his leg out behind him and connects with the girl behind him. Using her almost like a springboard he pushes off of her and gains distance away from her.

Taking a quick survey of her he can already see the extent the heat of the desert sun is taking on the young woman. He then charges before she can react and grips the handle of the sword with two hands and stabs towards her chest.

[Ashla]

Blood flew out of her mouth as Ashla fell onto the ground and hastily tried to recover her breath. She only had a moment to take a breath before he started charging towards her. She barely pulled her sword up and blocked his blade, the clang of metal sounding out again. Ashla grew onto a spurt of determination and successfully threw the blade off and quickly got up and took a couple steps back, throwing her cloak off. Ashla sighed, "I admit, you're tough." She blinked her blue eyes and looked at the man who had paused a couple feet away from her; finally beginning to recover, her breath slowed to normal. "What's you name anyways?" She asked him, "Well, my name is Ashla." she didn't give him time to reply, "And I don't give up easily!"

She bit her lip and and felt the blood lurking out still; a plan had suddenly came into mind. She pulled out her small dagger with her free hand. She tensed her legs up, her right leg fell behind her while her left leg stayed in place. In a moment she dashed towards him, raising her long-sword to strike him across the chest. However, the last couple seconds she stepped to the left of him and swiped her knife across his cheek. She then skidded to a halt, sending sand up into the air. Ashla turned to face him again.

[Rhaenar Talon]

Instinctively, Rhaenar steps back putting a good amount of distance between him and his opponent as he feels the sharp blade cut into his leather helmet, luckily the helm holds to its purpose and protects the blade from doing any major damage to him. Yet, the blade caught the end of his chin and a small trickle of crimson drips down from it staining the golden grains of sand into the same obscene crimson color. Still gripping the hilt of his sword he wipes the blood from his chin with the back of his knuckles as he stares at his reflection in the crimson beads of blood on the sand.

The days spent brutally fighting with no order, no control, no technique; just pure savagery and brutality has taken a toll on not only his mind, but his skills with his swordsmanship. Staring back at him was not the man that has spent years fighting against the horrors of the Fallien desert, no it was just the husk of the man. There was no cold, technical glint in his silver orbs, instead they were dead with no true spirit in them.

He stops down and grinds his foot into the blood, he looks up at the burning inferno of the sun. The beating sun doesn't only burn away the sweat beading off his forehead, it burns away the brutality that has festered inside of him like parasite since his first battle in the Citadel. He turns his eyes back upon his opponent the glint that has left him now back.

He stabs his sword in front of him and grabs the top of the grip with his left hand as he bends on one of his knees, "My name is Rhaenar." His other hand grips the sand, and then he catapults himself forward over the sword sprinting towards her. He throws the sand in his left hand at Ashla eyes confusing her. Rhaenar lunges forward with his left foot as he swings his right hand armed with the knuckleduster aiming at her head. Pivoting on his left foot he swings his foot in a roundhouse.

[Ashla]

Ashla just knew an attack was coming when Rhaenar threw the grainy sand into her eyes, blocking her view. Tears drops fell from her eyes as she clutched them shut and prepared herself. Just as the attack clashed onto her head a cold crack was heard that could send chills up one's spine. This was not the sound of a person's flesh and bone crushed in death, but of something like frozen ice cracking over a lake. Ashla had used her ability to turn herself to ice to block the attack. Her entire body was for a moment a statue of frozen over water. In shock, Rhaenar pulled his weapon out of the major crack in the head of the statue and the statue turned into Ashla once again - her head completely fine like it had never been hit in the first place!

He's stronger than most, so I had to use a lot of power on that, Ashla sighed as she realized, That's the only time for me I'm afraid. I'll have to dodge and block only from here out. Her ice transformation helped her to cool off and had pushed the sand out of her eyes, though they were still pink from the irritation. Ashla sighed and pulled a piece of string from a pocket in her belt. With this string she pulled her hair back; she knew pulling her hair back was a way of keeping herself cooler during this fight. She smirked as her usual self would and spoke to her opponent, "Nice try, Rhaenar."

She put her dagger away and pulled out her long knife, taking a defensive pose, I'll have to bring him up close and find a perfect time to strike him in a weak spot! His armor is such a pain, I'll have to find some type of flaw. Until then...