The Enduring Ideal - Jessie vs Ethan

[The Forgotten]

A warm fall wind gusted across the tips of breaking waves, sending sweet salty spray to coat the shimmering white sand beaches. The spring sun gently shone down on a picturesque landscape built for one, but rarely enjoyed. Brushing a grain of sand out of an unnaturally red eye, the lone figure in the breathtaking expanse sighed as the dry minerals marched ever onward. Tired eyes gazed up at the crystalline expanse and the shrouded orb that glared down from above. This was her arena, but that didn't mean it bent to her whims. Oh how wonderful it would be, even if it was a touch unfair; not that she didn't need all the help she could get.

The light crunch of sand and whispered slaps of reed against skin turned the Warrior's head away from the sky and toward the much more terrestrial figure who just had to intrude on her solace. He was much what she had come to expect from the Ai'Bron; tall, bald, and weathered without looking old. In the orange belt that held his earthen robes closed was a scroll that the woman had come to expect and even anticipate with some mild degree of empty enthusiasm. Dirty glass fell from the hierarch's back as she stood then shook her white shirt out; she was in no hurry to hear about her next challenge.

“Are you certain that you should be in that form, Warrior Jessie?”

It certainly wasn't the statement she was expecting. It wasn't like the monks to question their fighters.

“And you are worried... why?”

Well, aside from the fact that it was getting slightly more difficult to change back into Jessie each time... and that the warrior's mind was starting to think like a girl; not to mention that “he” was actually more comfortable as a girl than as a man now.

“Jessie- Jessica, I mean. Some of us are worrying about you. You are behaving more and more like a girl and less like the man you are - or at least should be. It is also becoming more and more difficult to mend your wounds as you spend more time in that form.”

“And you are worried... why?”

“We are worried that one of these days, you could get yourself killed and we would be unable to raise you.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I don't want to be stuck doing this forever?”

“It was your-”

“It was your idea!”

Pink hair flailed wildly as she spun around, her right arm curling to deliver a painful hook punch to the man's obstinate face. Partway through, though, her fist fell to her side like it weighed three tons. It wasn't any magic that did it, but just a realization that nothing she did to this monk was going to change what had already happened.

Turning her back to the man, Jessica's long pink hair grew shorter and darker to a near-black brown. Her previously tight-fitting clothes grew baggy despite the fact that she was actually getting taller and slightly thicker all around. Jessica's presence changed, and when she turned back to face the monk, Jessie's face was looking back at the brown-clad man.

“I never wanted to do this. You just wanted me to fill in. I thought it would be one or two fights, not... not this!”

The warrior stretched out his arms to showcase the arena that had been built for him. Sure it had sounded good at the time, but now that he was living for nothing but the next day's fight, he despised the notion of fighting in this place.

“You do have another challenger. I will leave the scroll with you and show him in when you are ready.”

“Just great... more fighting for sport.”

“You can leave whenever you wish, you know.”

“I can't. It wouldn't be right.”

“Then good luck.”

With a smirk, the monk of the Ai'Bron vanished into a misty vortex. Where he had been standing just a moment before now lay the scroll from his belt. The tall man glared at it, as though venting his anger at the parchment would do any good. Angry steps disturbed the side of the dune, causing a cascade of sand to rush down and half-bury the thing. He didn't care, but he would probably need to know what was written there. Halfheartedly walking over was the hardest part of the ordeal.

Ethan Calhoun... behavioral patterns matching those of a scavenger or another of few morals... blah blah... Somewhat renown for toying with reality... need to be careful in close combat.

Jessie tossed the scroll over his shoulder and didn't bother listening for the paper to strike the sand. The monks never left those scrolls in his world long after he read them. He didn't seem too tough of an opponent. Jessie yawned and sat down on the side of the large dune he half-climbed to retrieve the scroll from. From there, it was a small notion that brought his hands behind his head and leaned his body back. As soon as his eyes were closed, the comforting weight of Jessica's breasts resting on his chest and the waves of her pink hair coiled behind his neck came back once again. The change was many times faster than when he had turned back into Jessie, but that didn't matter any more.

Jessica's body slowly moved rhythmically up and down with each breath as the warm air washed over her form. She may have hated the idea of fighting in this place, but that didn't mean it was a bad place to relax now and then. Her staff was nearby as well, so she wouldn't be too surprised or unprepared when Ethan appeared and was finally ready to fight. Just a short nap and she'd be fine. A few minutes would be so very nice.

[Taskmienster]

They were getting close, and the feeling was making me nauseous. No matter where I logged, where I appeared, and who I was with the systems administration was gaining ground. They were routing me, moving me by their wills. It was like a game of chess gone wrong for me, the pieces were aligned unevenly and even with my abilities to change the pieces I was being cornered. If I let them get me in a check mate my fate was sealed, and the company I worked for was in a deeper hole than I would be. It was time to let the pushing and prodding of the administration of Althanas to have their way while I tried to weasel my way out of their trap.

“Lars I presume?” The man’s voice caught me off guard and made me turn quick. The stubby little monk that waited for me to turn was an interesting looking character. He was an NPC in this virtual reality world of fantasy and mayhem. He was possibly an admin in disguise. But my abilities to discern between a real character and a computer programmed artificially intelligent character were non-existent. “Welcome to the Dajas Pagoda. We were sent word that you would be joining us for a challenge. An opponent of the warrior level has been informed and awaiting your arrival. You are late.”

“Listen,” I said as I flicked the still lit butt of the cigarette on the ground. Who had sent word? How did they know I was going to be here, of all places? The Pagoda was not my first choice in places to go to escape the creators of the world. They had somehow known though, maybe by my actions… or if they had gone into my file they could see that I had frequented the Citadel numerous times and the challenge of the Pagoda couldn’t be passed up for long. Instead of holding my anger I leashed it on the man. “I don’t know who the hell you are, or why you have something arranged. I just came for a stroll… check out what this whole thing’s about. You know?”

“Of course Mr. Calhoun, if you will just follow me this way I can help you with any questions you may have. We can talk as we get to the room; you are after all expected, and overdue.” The monk was pushy, but I just had to deal with it I guess. Being a hacker in the virtual reality world was dangerous, and the man’s official documents he presented were full of unknown variables. Who had written them about my coming? What was the seal used? Was his opponent aware of what I was or an admin themselves?

~*~

The room wasn’t any different than those of the Citadel. A brilliant white light blurred the vision of the entering contestant followed by the slowly forming illusion, as always. The light barely faded though even as my eyes adapted to the setting. Overhead the sun was high and unmoving, casting shadows directly below the few objects that filled the dune sea. Every step I took was difficult and slippery; the soft sand was roughly pushed away from my leather boots. I followed its descent and watched as it moved like an avalanche down the slope, grains flickering in the light like crystals. “Such a boring place… my opponent must not have much of an imagination.”

“Or is a woman, which would explain a lot…” As I stepped to the crest of the dune I saw the one I had come to fight. It was a strange woman, pink haired, with a plain bo-staff waiting next to her. I supposed I couldn’t make fun of her strange look too much. My own hair was black with heavy streaks of white, spiked like some cliché anime character from back in the turn of the century. I pulled my leather jacket closer and smiled as the warm, dry winds made the fake fur lining tickle my cheeks. She seemed to be sleeping though; I couldn’t have been that late.

“Hey there, you the ‘warrior’ I’m supposed to be fightin’? The names Lars, well Ethan but everyone calls me by my nickname… Sorry I’m late love.” My voice could be taken as unenthusiastic. Fighting another fucking girl was not on my agenda, but there seemed to be more women willing to fight on Althanas then men.

[[Sorry for the wait... taken my first of two warnings if you want.]]

[The Forgotten]

The warm wind washed across the whispering waves of white sand, caressing the sleeping form of the Pagoda Warrior as the breeze traveled endlessly across the illusionary arena. Like tiny bells, the grains cascaded down the gently sloping edges of the dunes into the vast sea of glass. Solace was a rare pleasure in this place; a fine wine whose taste grew richer the longer it was denied. Each placid breath drawn into the sleeping woman's lungs was a joy all its own.

Of course, some people had absolutely no respect for the peace and comfort of others. Jessica wistfully hoped that this man would be different from the rest of them. She wished that he would be kind enough to let her enjoy just a little more slumber before barging in like a black-and-white-haired freight train. The avalanche of white sand like muddy rapids tumbling down the opposite side of the slack from his entrance shattered both those dreams and her own.

A misty trio of silhouettes standing over her crumpled body slowly bled into the image of her private arena as her mind desperately fought to give names and faces to the images that haunted her dreams. They had to know her, and the dream had to mean something! The pink-haired warrior leaned forward and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with weary fists. Halfway through a face-splitting yawn, she finally realized that the man was talking to her... or at least trying to.

Lars' words didn't quite register until a few seconds later, and when the realization dawned on her, she was strangely conflicted. Knowing that she was naturally a guy who preferred to reside in a woman's body made the last word, “love”, squirm-worthy. The other side of her brain, the one that dominated her thoughts and actions now, turned one corner of her mouth up in a smirk. It was almost cute how he stood there looking completely bored and utterly unimpressed.

“I suppose you could call me the Warrior you are going to fight, but I do have a name, you know.”

A shred of annoyance, a twinge of nonchalance, and a healthy dose of sleepiness mixed into something of a voice that wasn't exactly threatening. Slender arms pushed lightly against the dune while shapely legs readjusted her footing on the slope. The grit of sand covering her back and forearms was a serious source of annoyance, but brushing smooth hands together a few times removed most of the particles.

“Jessica. Warrior Jessica. And don't worry about being late. If anything, I would have preferred another couple hours of sleep. Not that it matters now. You're here, so I guess we could get started whenever you're ready.”

Another yawn, this time stretching her back and arching her chest out. Against the tight fabric of her top, supple breasts were more than simply hinted at. The ranking fighter didn't make any move for the staff lying beside her on the ground, both because she didn't need it yet and because she didn't really need it at all. Seeping up from the sand about her feet, the dark purple Aether she commanded slithered up her legs and pooled as an amorphous mist around her forearms. The mist was her true weapon; the staff was simply an extension of her body in a fight.

[Taskmienster]

What her name was mattered very little. She had been slumbering, obviously showing signs that she was completely trusting of her abilities and the ‘honor’ of the common opponent. Lucky for her I was not the kind of guy that would kill her in her sleep and end the combat early. Either this ‘warrior’ Jessica was very naïve, or very good. From the look of her I figured the latter. My concern was not for any of that though, my thoughts were not dwindling on the fact that I was about to enter combat with a pink haired little girl. I was still worried that she was part of the system, the virtual reality game of Althanas. She could be either an admin or a moderator and I would not know, or a program created to root out hackers like myself.

I shrugged with a sense of ease about me, not because I was trying to be a bad ass and show that she was no challenge, but because I was genuinely unconcerned with her. Even when the amethyst fog pooled around her legs and stopped around her arms I gave little more than a small twinge of my brow. “Oh,” I responded as I put my own arms in front of me in a similar fashion as Jessica. “I’m always ready doll, no worries here.”

Every step was a laborious one. My heavy boots fought against the thin sands, attempting to not get dragged under. But the shifting grains were like quicksand and absorbed the leather toes, forcing me to drag my feet and kick sand with every slow step. There would be no running in the fight, no fleeing quickly, and my agility was effectively cut in half. But I had many other tricks up my sleeve waiting for her, literally. With a light tap of my arms against my sides two naked steel handles found the center of my soft palms. I cupped them without showing them or letting the sun flicker across them.

To cover them further I raised my arms upwards in a rather cliché boxing stance, my cupped hands appearing more balled and ready to swing. Adrenaline was hardly present; the thrill of battle was absent. There was nothing thrilling about the situation in general, and my eyes expressed my malcontent. They flitted about but were filled by dune after dune of crested ever present waves.

[The Forgotten]

The dark man was calm, cool, and collected; not wavering an inch in the unfamiliar surroundings he had been thrust into. It was as though he knew he was in control of the situation and needed no outside reassurance. Then again, he didn't look too comfortable despite trying to give the appearance of nonchalance. What was he so apprehensive about? It couldn't have been the arena; this place only had one section that could be considered odd.

Lars mimicked the Warrior's stance, bringing a smirk to Jessica's countenance. It seemed that the scroll had been correct, he did appear to prefer close-quarters fighting. It almost brought the question of how they knew that sort of information to her mind; she had certainly never filled out anything of that sort when challenging Travis Kiltias. Maybe it was just the magic of the Pagoda. It didn't matter either way because she already knew what she was going to do. She would be the victor once more and that was all. All that mattered. All she cared about.

A small piece of her mind questioned just why she hadn't walked out on the Pagoda yet. She was free to leave whenever she wished, yet day after day she returned to fight another overconfident jerk. There was more to life than fighting, but the money from the fights paid what few bills the Warrior's accommodations failed to cover. It was a life, but not one she wished to continue indefinitely. There was much more to the world that she had never seen.

One elongated step down the dune followed another as Jessica slowly advanced toward the bottom of the valley. Her right hand casually wrapped around the shaft of her staff and it was a matter of habit that brought the wooden shaft into a casual two-handed grip. Any number of simple strikes could be launched from her neutral position, each one almost guaranteed to be quite painful. The only question the pink-haired woman had was a perplexing one: where should she hit first?

"I have a few pet peeves, just like anyone living anywhere. One of the most prominent is hearing a stranger call me 'doll', 'love', or any other pet name, especially when we've just met. How about a deal, Lars. You don't call me anything other than Jessica or Jess and I'll see if I can find a way to finish this without gutting you like a Cornish pig and strangling you with your small intestine."

She wasn't quite in the bottom of the valley, but her advance stopped with her words. An ocean of white sand filled her vision, obscuring most of the sky and blocking all but the lightest breeze. It was going to get terribly hot without the wind, but if her battle this time played out at all like any of her previous fights, the strange-haired man would suffer heat stroke long before she even started to tire.

[Taskmienster]

The woman had a tongue that lashed as deeply as any weapon, a wit that caught me off guard and actually forced me to pull my attention back to her. But the double sided sword of hers was going to be turned against her soon enough. I wasn’t a cocky person, confident yes, but hardly cocksure. The woman, Jessica, was a snappy bitch though. I could not help but smirk and move down my side of the slope towards her. “So be it Jessica,” I said with enough emphasis on her name to clearly be taken as sarcastic. “Though don’t let your words be untrue, I would certainly hate to see your smug swagger let me down in the end.”

As I approached I could feel the light breeze that shifted the sandy dunes die. My spiked hair was not drifting back and forth; the stiff coding that I controlled was no longer being tested by the illusion. Stifling the thick sheet of heat him me like a wall, the blistering temperature escaping the sand as if the grains could not absorb enough of it. Every step felt as if I was releasing more and more, my black boots were burning the soles of my feet. It felt as if I was walking barefoot on asphalt on a summer day, back in Florida. No humidity assaulted my lungs though, leaving the dry heat bearable at the very least. I knew though, that staying in the small valley between the dunes would eventually force me to remove my jacket or submit to the heat.

That sliver of a smile that I hid behind quickly faded as sweat beaded on my forehead. It was time to get to business and try and get answers to the questions that I could not escape. My blue-gray streaked eyes could see the woman’s staff in hand, a staff I thought she had left behind for whatever purple clouds had streaked up her body. But it did not matter, my daggers would be far too agile for her to block with the slim staff.

Instead of waiting to close I spun the daggers with the tips of my fingers and brought them to sight. In half a second my cocked arms twisted the blades towards Jessica. One was aimed at inside her shoulder, the other at the inside of her opposite leg. Testing the waters was the typical first attack of all battles in Althanas, as I had come to know. There was no show of amazing force, no instant kills, simply a contest of wills and a battle of who would be more wounded and quit in the end.

I charged forward as quickly as my unsure footing would allow. Running was not an easy task, pushing through the thick sand and still, searing air was laborious. But I wanted to close and end the fight, get out of the room and question the monks. My cover was obviously blown and I didn’t know who might have been watching. That staff though was a small concern. I could take a few hits before bones would be broken or fractured, but the sooner I dealt with her reach the sooner I could overtake it.