Like the rolling, anarchic thunder that sung the genesis of an uncoming storm the platform of stone was ripped chaotically apart. At first there was a faint crack - then there was an explosion of rock, dirt and roots that catapulted and soared into the sky. Clumps both as small as a child's fist and oppositely as large as a shovel blade were thrown high into various parabolas, arching high before descending many feet away. It was a matter of a single second between the sundering and the loam rain, that pelted down hard enough to cause a temporary distraction to those not expecting it. From the crevice that had been made came an almighty, terrifying bellow which would send those of weaker will scarpering for the bathroom. Couple with that, rising from the darkness there like a beast from hell, came the mottled, scarred and jugged head of the earth dragon, Delath.

He roared defiantly, shouting his presence into the arena. Easily, he moved his forelegs beyond the edge of the hole and onto the main body of the platform. As he did so Veridian, who had quintupled in size and whose fur now rippled with blazing flames, leapt forwards, using his powerful legs and mighty form to carry him across to a pillar, the mask he had worn now broken and discarded, because of the sudden change in size. The wind did not bother him anyway now - he was warm enough. And so he jumped with no worries.

It left the platform where their party had begun available for Delath to take full possession, heaving his long and hefty body into the battle.

Veridian, now no longer needing to stay with the platform, dodged full throttle forwards, watching as the dancing scythe-wielder skipped from pillar to pillar. One, two, then three tumbled as he moved past heavy ice projectiles that were roughly launched in his direction.

They were uneasily familiar, and it took Veridian far too long to realise that they owed their origin to Shinsou can Osiris. But he had no time to look back and see if more were being sent towards Philomel and Delath, and where he, the earth-spirit, had been moments before. Instead he had just his own path and his own battle to forge. Thus he drove his way over the stones, using full advantage of his new length and height. The pillars he briefly stepped on began to creak beneath his paws and splinter, even from the lightest touch. But this he did not care about. All he was concerned with was the man with the coal-black skin, who was spinning, dodging and - was caught. Pinned to a rock by one of the very ice spears.

Gleeful that he may have found his opportunity, Veridian spurned himself forwards, trusting his legs to carry him that needed distance. He watched as the man unpinned himself and seemed to shimmer for a moment with a glow. An infernal glow. This irritated the fiery fox, but he kept on, watching as the bring stablised himself and prepared for an assault direct for Shinsou. As a ball of fire shot from the man's hand, Veridian launched himself forwards and opened his maw, sending forth a spew of flames that looked, for all intents and purposes, like a second pair of jaws - ones that would fasten around his wrist and burn with the heat of the hottest, hellish summer's day. Keeping Veridian himself out of view as he moved around to lithely skip back behind the man, not beside him.

The man had faired well, it seemed with the projectiles of chill cold. The goat-headed Philomel, however, got a brutal, more forceful supply of them. As Veridian was racing towards William Arcus, and Delath was heaving his body from the platform, she continued to dance with the blade called Stygian. How Shinsou managed to control so many devices and powers at once was beyond her, but right now her body raged with so much raw emotion and instinct that she hardly cared. Instead, she fought for her own existence, throwing in everything she had.

No communication was made between her and Veridian. In a battle with two foes it was necessary to split their resources and thus dedicate wholly to separate battles. Practise had told them also that if they kept their minds separate, except in dire circumstances such as near death, they were more likely to survive and win. Thus, Philomel faced Stygian and Shinsou and Veridian faced Arcus.

It was a difficult fight, keeping the blade from her, so then when the spears of ice came she had little hope, despite her terrible form. Barely time had she to see them, keep Stygian back and balance on the pillars. And so, it was with much agony that an angry spear jammed itself harshly into her shoulder and sent her spinning off course.

Fearfully, she screamed - a harrowing, abhorrent sound that shattered any hopes of peace that may have been resting in hearts. As it collided with her she began to fall back, the soft underside of her hooves in their specialised manner not even enough to stablise her in that desperate moment. And her arm that was hit siezed suddenly, a jolt of paralysis jarring down it, forcing a hard hold onto the blade there. She dodged a blow from the shadow-held blade with the luck of falling, and it looked for a moment like she would tumble into the dark void below right away and be out of the battle so early.

But -

But ... One hoof still touched earth for the needed length of time. The rock and soil beneath that hoof rippled, a seeming rip in reality for a microcosm of a second. Her form, still with the icicle lodged in her shoulder and rapidly spreading ice over her torso - suddenly disappeared. Almost instantly she was back again, now safe behind Delath who had fully emerged. At feel of her pain he let out the angriest, most hateful roar, and flicked his massive tail. Lanuching himself forwards he took her place against the row with Shinsou, but not with any concern for Stygian. Instead he battled against the buffetting wind, flying high and directly into the fray, jaws agape. As he did a green essence, like the pollen of a spring morning began to pour from his mouth, fighting against the breeze via the strength and force of his own breath. Spiralling in a direct shot for Stygian and for Shinsou himself, a metre and half long from the incarnation of his mouth but already beginning to spread as it burst into the air.

As Philomel dropped her blade from the hand that still worked and savagely ripped the ice from her shoulder. Blood and horror was clear, but in a delightful way the chill that had served a purpose in thickening and clotting the blood already. Grabbing a palmful of dirt, direct from beside her, she shoved it over the wound. Sucking in her breath she waited as the healing began to rapidly take place but her wounded arm still refued to move.