Blood is the New Black

[Tobias Stalt]

[Closed to Count]

Cheers blared from every corner of the colosseum as Tobias began his slow stride toward the center. They had seen him fight multiple battles in the Citadel in the past few months, and he certainly knew how to get the crowd going. Walking at a leisurely pace, the darkly clothed youth stared up from beneath his hood toward the sun. Coins that rained down from above clattered at his feet, and the former soldier gave a toothy grin. "Kill this one and there'll be more where that came from," called a voice from the crowd. "Make him bleed!"

Tobias was far more passive on the topic. The coin was enough to make the competition worthwhile, but few opponents drove him to actually enjoy the fight. The day he found a worthy foe, he would fight with everything he had. He stopped in the center of the ring, pulled back his hood, and squinted toward the master of ceremonies; an Ai'brone Monk focused on weaving the illusionary battlefield. "Have you an enemy for me?" He asked, though the answer was always yes. The dramatic flair only served to rile the crowd.

"Cut him down!" Came a vicious cry. "Paint the sand with his blood!" Tobias had to admit, the ferocity of this crowd was a bit over the top. Perhaps the Monk just had a very boring outside life.

He placed a hand on either of his dagger hilts. His fingers caressed every detail, familiar with the shape and texture of every one of his weapons. Blackheart rested beneath wrappings on his back, loathe to be disentombed. His glittering golden gaze fell on the opposite side of the arena, where he heard the gates creaking open. Tobias' lips turned up in a smirk.

[Count]

A roaring crowd. That's all he heard for a bit. "Alexei Gardeheart! You're up!" the guard calls. The gate begins to open, the roaring of the crowd getting louder with each step he took towards the opening. Before the gate was even fully opened, he steps through, using his scythe as a cane.

"So, I take it you are my opponent for this battle!" Alexei yells over the din. "I am Alexei Gardeheart. Now that you know my name, it's customary to give your name in response." As he stops in the center of the arena, he pulls his shield from his back, moving it to his front side, and moves his scythe to both hands. He notices the twin daggers at his opponents sides. He will need to keep this boy at a distance.

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias tilted his head back at the call of his opponent, and he offered only a quiet chuckle in response. The prospect of customs or kindness had no place on a battlefield like this, though there had been a time when Tobias appreciated the sentiment. He watched the large weapon of his opponent for a moment; while he had never fought against a scythe before, he had an appreciation for all sorts of weaponry. This particular piece seemed more ornamental than dangerous.

"You want my name?" Tobias asked as he skillfully slipped a dagger into his right hand. "If you defeat me, I'll give it to you."

He had enough reason not to let his name become too well known. They didn't usually check identifications in the Citadel. They were more interested in the coin that came in when they allowed people to fight. The anonymity of the entire operation made it ideal for Tobias' situation. Still, Tobias enjoyed the boy's enthusiasm.

The other dagger found itself in hand as the former soldier began his journey across the dirt to his opponent. Not enemy, Tobias thought, because he bore the man no ill will. That was a refreshing feeling.

Through the mere centimeters that separated them, Tobias tore forward like a black streak. He slashed toward Alexi's guard in a quick feint. The crowd roared.

[Count]

Alexei's eyes widened and he knew he would have to do something. The young man clad in black moved quicker than any person he had seen before. The speed and skill with which he used his daggers was to be admired, and as the crowd roared he realized he would be unable to block every blow.

Quickly as he could, he moved his shield with his telekinesis, only to make the speedy warriors blade glance off his shield and cut his shoulder. A deep cut, but it would not deter Alexei from winning this fight.

"You're quick... Let's keep you at a distance then..."

As fast as his shoulder would allow, he swept his scythe across the ground, dirt and dust being kicjed up in the blades wake.

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias sank away from the feint with immense satisfaction. His opponent's lifeblood came from a gash opened on his shoulder and left a fresh coat of crimson on the wicked dagger. Tobias swept his second blade behind the shield in the precious second it took him to recover from his first strike being batted aside. He then staggered awkwardly backward from the heavy bladed weapon of his opponent as the deadly sickle came toward him like the Reaper's own. Tobias laughed in the face of that irony.

The dust cloud that rose was immensely annoying. Tobias squinted to see beyond it and kept eyes on Alexei, but just barely. The other man made up for his slower weapon with powerful, sweeping strikes. He compounded that strength with the natural lay of their arena, and Tobias could not help but smirk at his adversary's guile.

Not quick enough, he thought as his opponent's blade narrowly missed cleaving him. Rushing forward without full visibility was a terrible plan, so Tobias had no opening to speak of, but he used the time to reconsider his approach. A heavier weapon might be better suited for the scythe, but...

He resolved to stick with his curved daggers. It would be more of a challenge, and Tobias was one who preferred to earn his victories. "First blood to me," Tobias called over the diminished crowd. Every aspect of this battle was rekindling a flicker of life in the grim youth. His golden eyes gleamed with excitement.

Both black blades felt like the wicked fangs of some beast in his hands, hungry for violence. He spun them round expertly, and the crowd cheered. His taunts were met with praise from the stands. "Come return the favor," he called softly, beckoning Alexei to give his all.

[Count]

Alexei hears his opponent taunt the crowd. The roaring grows even louder than when the fight began. His shoulder burned with pain, and warmth covered his arm, before the blood cooled and congealed. The cloud of dust was the only thing keeping the man clad in black at bay. He would need to think of something, and fast.

Suddenly, a thought occurred. His opponent seemed to pride himself on his speed, and toying with his victims. He would need to take away the mans speed.

"Come return the favor." his opponent jeers. Alexei speaks loud enough to be heard over the crowd, but not enough to give away where he was. "How much do you value your life?"

Without waiting for a response, Alexei dashes through the mini dust devil crated by his scythe with as much speed as he could muster. He thrust his uninjured arm towards the mans arms, to disable most of his power, and to remove any chance of him counterattacking.

[Tobias Stalt]

He felt a cold grip clamp down like jaws on his arm. Tobias winced as he thrust both long knives forward, feeling awkwardly for the throat of his opponent. "This..." he grit his teeth, devoting all his focus toward the foul act, "will all be over soon."

Adrenaline had consumed Tobias. The notes of pain barely registered as he moved with staggering quickness. Numbness he could not account for had taken hold of his arm, but he ignored it. The chill crept along his flesh until it burnt like fire, and his golden gaze flashed to the afflicted area.

Horror gripped the youth as he watched ice crawled up his shoulder and neck, sinister claws of frost clenching around him like the fist of a furious arctic god. "What the fuck...?" Tobias barely had time to ask the question as diamond dust ripped into his mouth and thrust into his throat, crystallizing his insides with reckless disregard.

With a last effort, he fought to dig both blades deep into his opponent's throat.

[Count]

Success! Alexei had finally succeeded in freezing his opponent! It was his favorite way to kill somebody, sometimes it was slow, others, it was immensely quick. This kill was one of the latter. While not as satisfying, a kill is a kill.

Alexei tried to speak words of victory, but found he couldn't. His free hand went to his throat, where he felt the warm stickiness of his own blood rushing down his chest.

He had been struck-

Those were the last thoughts he had before his head fell off his shoulders, a fountain of blood spraying from the gaping hole atop his neck. What a way to go...

[Tobias Stalt]

The body toppled over headless before the frozen form of Tobias, a look of surprise etched on his preserved features. Golden eyes blazed with a desperation that would burn on forever, even in that icy shell. It was a perfect scene; two men dead at their own hands, one standing frigid, eternal vigil over the other.

"Hurry," hissed a voice from somewhere beyond all reason. The scene faded back into an empty, nondescript room, one of many within the Citadel. Two monks hastily collected the decapitated form of Alexei, scurrying from the room with haste to revive him before the damage could not be undone. The single monk who remained stared intently at the frosted former soldier, chuckling his amusement. "Careful, now. The pieces must be put back together carefully to insure that there is no permanent damage. You know how difficult decapitations are to undo."

The other two, if they heard, gave no response. The elder monk clicked his tongue in disdain. "My, Stalt, but you've made a mess for me to clean up." A pale hand emerged from the enigmatic man's vestments, a spell woven around it in orange and red hues. His aged brow furrowed in concentration as he spoke, old words lost to time innumerable.

The ice around Tobias began to burn away, as though the very magic that had made it were being undone. Light etched into every fault, erasing any evidence that the cold had ever taken root. Tobias fell to his knees, gasping greedily for air. "You warriors amuse me," the Monk shook his head. "Is gold really so precious? Do you long for the embrace of death?"

Tobias looked up, confused. "I saw it," he rasped.

"The world beyond the veil?" Questioned the older man thoughtfully? "Many have," he admitted, "and many more have not come back. You are lucky you had your battle in this place."

"I saw my life," Tobias said flatly.

The Monk laughed. "So few ever realize how precious a thing it is until it is gone."

Tobias rose slowly, uneasily. "Where is the other one?" He asked, straining to recall the name. "Where is Alexei?"

"Healing," came the response. "In your last effort, you cut off his head."

Tobias twitched. "He killed me." The Monk shrugged. "I owe him my name." When the elder monk gestured toward the hallway beyond, Tobias blinked.

"You will find him in the healing ward," was all the other man said.

Tobias headed for the ward with an appreciative nod.

[Count]

He couldn't tell how long the blackness of death shrouded his eyes. Alexei knew he was dead. And after all that TRAINING! He wanted to rear his head back and roar angrily. Of course, without a head it certainly is difficult to do.

Hours later, he started seeing lights. Piercing lights, painful lights, but oh they were spectacular. But hold... Wasn't he dead just a few mere minutes before? How was...

"That's right... The citadel doesn't allow many of its combatants to actually die..." Alexei thought to himself. He felt his throat. To his surprise, there was a single long, circular scar that went around the middle of his neck.

"Sorry, sir." Said a nearby monk. "Sometimes we can keep scars from forming, other times... Well..."

Alexei took a moment before responding. "No, it's alright. I don't mind the scar. Befits a man like me, don't it?" His voice was soft. To be expected of course, but it was good to know his vocal cords still worked.

"I suppose I should be thanking you for your work in reviving me. I abundantly appreciate it. Now, where is the man I was fighting? Dead?"