A Religious Experience (Open)

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul slammed the door shut behind him as he entered the entry hall of the “Cursed Cathedral” room of the Citadel. A smooth marble floor reached out nearly infinitely in front of him, ending at a door so far away he could barely make out the gargantuan thing.

“I really need to stop letting that monk pick my rooms for me, if only just to avoid the bad puns. ‘This will be a religious experience.’ I really ought to freeze his mouth shut and teach him a few things about the meaning of humor,” Rehtul muttered under his breath as he reached out behind himself and gripped one of the door handles with his gloved hand. Frost began to creep into the metal, even into the springs of the locking mechanism on the door.

If there was someone in here, he was going to ensure that, at least for the time being, that it wouldn’t go out into the courtyard. He smiled slightly and continued to walk through the dimly lit corridor. He looked to both sides, keeping an eye out for the area his opponent would have appeared in. The Monks were always smart about that, making the two combatants involved in a Citadel match appear in different locations within an arena.

Pale blue light flicked off of the cracked and broken floor. Wrought iron braziers held pale blue flames within them, casting an eerie glow over everything in sight, creating shadows that might have or might not have been something moving in the background.

“Gotta hand it to them, they definitely know how to create an atmosphere. I really hope I’m not supposed to be fighting some kind of monster here. I’m terrible at dealing with things like that jumping out to scare me,” he muttered under his breath. He could already hear his father’s voice in his head.

There’s nothing to fear in this world. Nothing is beyond the ability of the practiced mage to comprehend, understand, and counteract.

“Yep, right on cue, the ghost of my dad’s lessons jumps right into my head just as I’m beginning to feel the most stressed out. Thanks a lot,” he said as he finally came up to the door on the other side of the hallway. He looked out at the giant wooden doors, more like gates than actual doors, and cupped his chin with two fingers.

He traced the dark cherry wood with a single finger. It seemed to be relatively in shape, compared to the rest of the building. He hadn’t expected the giant stone doors on the face of the building to be in disrepair, as those took decades to deteriorate, but these wooden ones seemed almost too pristine.

“Is this a part of the appeal?” he wondered aloud as he pushed the doors open. Great creaking and groaning responded to his touch as he grunted and pushed the doors as hard as he can, just barely getting them open enough to squeeze through.

“Oh, for the love of the Thaynes!” he wheezed as he leaned against one of the doors for support. “You things are too damn heavy.”

He looked into the room beyond the door cautiously, using the door to hide himself in case a projectile attack was incoming. Some people in the Citadel thrived off of sneak attacks, and he wasn’t about to make himself an easy target.

Blue light, similar to that in the foyer filled the room. Dozens of pews filled the room, some overturned, others cracked and broken beyond all usefulness, all atop a gigantic ripped and torn blood red rug. Overall, the aesthetic of the room was perfect. A strange brazier, easily twenty times the size of any others that he had seen up until that point, sat behind the pulpit, blazing brightly with a violet flame that looked to be radiating darkness out in every direction.

“Definitely the most interesting arena I’ve ever been in,” Rehtul said as he came out from behind the door. He looked around for the person he was supposed to fight, assuming they’d even showed up yet.

[Taische]

Taische O'Sheean had been expressly forbidden to return to the Citadel before she was sixteen, unless her mother was with her. The Ai'Brone monks remembered the child who had defeated Madison Freebird, and they remembered very well the rage her mother had directed at them for letting her get into a fight. Never mind that she had won, just the fact that she'd been in there in the first place was "beyond conscionability." The monks had agreed. Taische was banned from the Citadel without parental supervision until her sixteenth birthday.

Little boys with messenger hats who were carrying food for contestants who were making a day of it, however, were such a common sight as to go unnoticed. Easily a dozen would filter in and out of the monolithic step pyramid over the course of a given day.

Briefly, it occurred to Taische that perhaps she should stop slipping away from her caretakers and behave herself for once. It also occurred to her that if they didn't want her to sneak off, they should watch her better. They were the adults, after all. Fair was fair.

The instant she was out of sight of any adult, the little girl set down her bag of cheese and rolls, shed her hat, and bolted for the nearest door. The iron latch was cold and heavy in her hands, made for adults, not kids. It fought her when she tried to turn it, and the old beaten oak door stuck and scraped loudly when she shoved it. When it gave abruptly, she fell into a heap of moth-eaten red velvet.

The tattered cloth enveloped her, tangling ever more impenetrably with each kick and thrash she fought with. It was only after a minute and an impatient burst of flame that she managed to free herself, and she knocked the soot and charred scraps off of her blue shirt and green shorts while she stood.

The first thing she knew about the dimly-lit building was that it was big. The landing she'd ended up on gave her a view out over a sharply-designed stone building that seemed almost deliberately cruel, with its sharp, evenly-spaced ridges. She felt like she was in some giant stone skeleton. A glance over the tall balustrade gave her a look at a great bowl of purple fire near the far-away floor, and she immediately ducked back down.

What?! That's not how fire works. There might have been much that Taische knew she didn't know about the world, but fire was her birthright. And that was not fire.

More pressingly, Taische hadn't really thought about what she was going to do against an adult - maybe even a mean, powerful adult - once she'd found a door she could get into. She'd been so sure she'd be caught and turned away before getting this far that she hadn't really considered what to do if she was successful. She didn't even know who it was. At least if she'd waited for her mom to bring her here with one of her uncles so she could learn things from them, she'd have an idea of what she was doing. Now she was just a dumb kid who was probably in trouble.

Well... it's not like it's real death. And maybe I can try something.

Narrow gray stairs, cracked and crumbled with age, led down to the floor level, and Taische clutched her yoyo, planting her little boots carefully in the areas that looked most stable.

"Hello?" she called loudly, sending her voice echoing through the spooky cathedral. "H-hello?" She kicked a chunk of rubble and shrieked when it started bouncing. If there was anyone in here, she wanted them to think she was just a scared little girl who had accidentally gotten lost. She kept her body curled up, like she was trying to hide from any monster that might try to jump out at her, just in case there was someone who could already see her.

"Uncle Tav? Uncle Tav, come on, this isn't funny. Is someone here?"

[Rehtul Orlouge]

A shriek, followed by “Is someone there?” The tiny voice resounded through the doors leading into the main antechamber of the ancient church. The young man turned on his heel and gazed deeply into the shadows. That voice on the other side of the door couldn’t have belonged to the type of being he thought it did. At least, he really hoped it didn’t.

Would they have thrown ghosts of children into this arena? he wondered worriedly as he approached the door and peeked out into the dimly lit shadows. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he slipped out of the door and held up a single hand in front of him, palm up. There was little enough light in this building without the spooky sounds and possibility of ghosts. The young man’s eyebrows knitted together as he focused on the area above his open palm. Almost instantly, a ball of bright light appeared above his hand and cast an illuminated glow across the room, though it did have the simultaneous effect of deepening the shadows of each of item that it lit up.

With a grim frown, he slipped out through the crack in the door and stood once more in the foyer of the building. He dropped his hand to his side and allowed the ball of light to merely hover at his side as he strained his ears, hoping for the sound of footfalls, and not another random wailing or speaking sound.

As his ears finally began to tune in, he could hear it, the sound of small footsteps echoing through one of the nearby stairwells of the massive building. Sweat beaded on his brow as he walked up to the entrance to the stairs to the second floor. He hesitated a moment before he turned the ancient brass handle and pulled on the door. With a loud protest of metal grinding against metal, it slowly eased open.

I swear if I can see through whatever’s coming down through there, I’m leaving, he thought as he willed his portable light source forward and into the hallway. With the room illuminated properly, the young man walked through the portal and up to the bottom stair. He looked up and was both relieved and shocked to see a young girl, barely ten years old if she was even that old. He couldn’t see through her, so he could only assume that she had slipped into the arena by dodging whoever was supposed to be watching her. Maybe she even though this was the door to a lavatory. He chuckled lightly as he approached her.

“Greetings,” he said. “I’m Rehtul Orlouge, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He looked around for a moment before leaning against the wall of the stairwell. “I only have one question. Did you enter this room on purpose?”

That question, of course, was asking simply whether the young girl had entered this haunted cathedral arena looking for a fight with someone. He’d fought against the young before, just not anyone like this.

I really hope this is a mistake...

[Taische]

The child made her way to the bottom of the crumbling steps since the man wasn’t instantly out to kill her. One hand clutched her toy, the other one ran through her thick black hair. “M-my name is Taische O’Sheean,” she explained. “I came here with my uncle, because he wanted a fight, and he said to sit and wait for him and he’d be right back. But that was a really, really long time ago and he didn’t come back, so I went to look for him. And now I’m here.”

She craned her neck to look up at Rhetul, who towered over her. They were exact opposites; man and child, light and dark, one dressed well, one dressed in play clothes. Taische’s experience in the Citadel, though limited, told her that it was a violent, painful place, but the tall man didn’t seem unkind. If they fought, she’d have to provoke, and that would be mean. But how would they get out if they didn’t fight?

Taische peered into the rest of the cathedral from the cover of the stairwell, sweeping her blue eyes along the devastation and darkness. The arena had been built to test the fortitude of men who fancied themselves to be brave; she was nine. “It’s really spooky in here. I don’t like it. I looked for the door I came through, but it wasn’t there. I don’t think we can get out until someone wins.”

She took a few darting steps away, to get some distance before he could pop her one good blow for a “mercy win.” She might have been small, but she came from warrior stock, and if she lost, she’d at least make the pale man say that she was really strong for a little girl.

I’ll make him say that I’m really strong for anybody. He’s probably heard of my mother, so he’s got to know that I’m not going to be easy to beat.

“I…I don’t do much fighting, Mr. Orlouge.” Taische looked at her opponent, biting her lip nervously. “But if we can’t leave if we don’t fight, I can fight you.”

She clenched a fist at her side, and water droplets started to coalesce in front of her, until she had a ball as large as her torso that hovered in the air. Since fire was her strongest ability, she wanted to save that for a while and bring it out as a surprise. Water wasn’t as threatening; he might not even think she was dangerous yet. Maybe.

Taische bent at the knees, pulling both her fists back. The water at her command split into a pair of globs that shimmered in the cold blue and creepy purple lights, one for each fist. She breathed in deep, letting out a shaky breath, and tried to put on a brave face despite her stomach twisting.

This might have been a bad idea.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Taische O’Sheean, huh? Why does that name sound so familiar? he thought as the girl introduced herself. He felt sorry for the girl that had gotten lost and ended up in one of the Citadel’s rooms, but when she started drawing upon magic of all things, the young man’s brows rose a bit and his mouth curled into a deep frown. She was intending to fight him instead of having one of them simply withdraw. What was this child’s game?

“So you want to go through with this?” he asked simply as he brought up two fingers to grip the bridge of his nose, right between his eyes with a shake of his head. A sharp sigh escaped his lips as the girl readied herself, two globs of water in her hands. While normal people would have considered the element to be one of the least dangerous, the young mage had seen what it could do in the hands of a master. His extensive studies with the psion known as Logan McCloud were enough to convince him that this young lady was not only deathly serious, but also possibly quite powerful.

“One of us could withdraw, but something tells me that’s not what you want,” he said, smiling lightly. “You want to test yourself here, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t pretend to be unaware of the ability to resign from combat.” Cold mist began to form around the young man’s body as he held out his right hand beside him. Three small shards of ice, in the form of crystalline arrow heads, appeared above his outstretched hand.

“While I’m not entirely sure that you understand exactly what you’re getting yourself into, Lady Taische,” he said simply, “I respect your decision. We shall have the fight you’re asking for. Begin when you’re ready. Ladies first. I am a combatant, but I am still a gentleman.”

The blue flames of the stairwell caught on the shards of ice, refracting in every direction. The little lights danced against the wall as the floating forms rose and fell in the air, fighting desperately under the control of Rehtul’s magic to avoid gravity’s harsh grip.

I really don’t want to do this...

[Taische]

Taische’s hands lowered a little and her posture straightened up. The cold light from the strange flames flickered eerily across her confused expression. Even the water she was controlling sloshed and dripped a bit, trying to lose its magical cohesion. “What do you mean we can withdraw? Nobody ever said anything about withdrawing to me.”

Granted, she’d never been in a fight with permission, and thus had never had the rules explained. She thought for a second. The ice mage didn’t seem like a bad person. He wasn’t ultra-violent Madison Freebird, he didn’t want to kill her. She didn’t want to kill him. She did want to see if she could learn his ice magic like she’d learned her Uncle Storm’s lightning magic, though. So maybe…

“I can’t quit without trying, because my mother says to always do your best and never, ever give up. But maybe we can fight nicely? No killing, only attack the chest, belly, arms and legs, and absolutely, most importantly, no wasps. Oh. And the winner has to get the loser ice cream afterward, because ice cream is good and we can still be friends afterward.” She thought the rules were more than fair. Wasps were literally the most evil thing she’d ever seen, and no attacks on the head meant that she couldn’t suffocate him. Also, ice cream was delicious after a sparring match. They were good rules.

If he played by the rules, so would she. If he didn’t agree and cheated, she’d just cheat too. It was a perfect plan.

More confident that this whole adventure wasn't about to come crashing down around her ears, Taische raised her fists once more. Her left boot scraped against the cracked floor as she dropped back into a fighting crouch. A mask of focus dropped onto her face and the shimmering waters smoothed out. Taische didn't have much experience with ice at all, either in nature or in magic, but she did know that it was usually stronger than water.

That's fine. It's not a problem to lose the first few hits. Just don't lose the last hit.

Taische took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then she punched as hard as she could with her right hand, sending the right sphere of water speeding toward Rehtul's chest. It wasn't a terribly strong attack; a punch from a grown man would hurt just as much if it hit. But it was more a distraction.

The momentum of her first blow spun the little girl around in a whirl of black hair, and her left hand slashed hard. The second glob arced powerfully, trying to slap the ice spears aside.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

He nodded in agreement to her conditions, one by one, until she got to the rule about winner buying ice cream. Was she planning to throw the match for ice cream? He considered the thought for a moment before discarding it. No one going into the Citadel would fold for something so mundane.

“All right, you’ve got yourself an agreement.”

With that out of the way, the young girl launched immediately into her assault, thrusting the globe of water at his chest. She was close enough and his reflexes were just slow enough to allow her to score the hit. Air exploded outward from his lungs as the solid orb of water smashed into his solar plexus. He bent over, clutching his stomach through his waterlogged robes. The water ran down his front and puddled around his leather boots.

He looked up with a grimace just in time to see his floating shards of ice get smacked with a whip of water and into the torch beside him. The ice melted instantly, though the flame was unaffected by the water. No steam erupted forth from the flames, no sizzling... nothing but the quiet sound of the fire licking at the atmosphere around it.

The young ice mage reached behind his back and pulled forward the new weapon he’d gotten as a gift from his father. The prevalida spear came through the air and pointed at Taische. Mindful of his surroundings, Rehtul did not make a motion quite yet. He willed the water at his feet to solidify. The water snaked up his boots quickly and froze in place, locking his feet to the ground.

With an echoing exhalation, he pushed the spear forward toward the girl’s chest, attempting to skewer her.

The battle was engaged, now. The only thing left to do was fight until there was only one left standing. He just hoped to get out of this stairwell before that happened. The low ground was not to his advantage.

[Taische]

The attacks went off better than Taische had hoped; she thought for sure she'd land either the hit or smack the spears away, but not both. She set herself again, hands in front of her to call forth more magic. She hadn't decided which kind yet. Then Rehtul did something that distracted the little girl entirely.

He made ice out of her water.

Taische had been born and grown up in a tropical country, and the only times she'd been in more temperate or cooler climates, winter was just a memory. She'd never seen snow, she'd never seen the rivers freeze over. Rehtul's magic opened up a realm of mystery to her.

"Wait. Ice is wat-" Her question cut off with a gasp. Instead of doing a controlled spar attack, her opponent stabbed his spear at her with intent to kill. She stumbled abruptly backward, losing her footing on a chunk of rubble. The spear's head still ripped through her tender skin, but instead of exploding through her chest and out of her back, it just opened a deep gash in her right arm.

Lightning crackled from her fingers toward the offending weapon, a reflexive action. The bolt was weak; stunning force instead of injuring force, but that was all she could manage.

Taische looked up at the Orlouge from the dusty floor beneath the fountain, cowering down a little bit. Fear and surprise widened her bright blue eyes, and when she glanced at the blood streaming freely from her wound, she let out a pained whimper. A couple of tears trickled down her cheeks, a couple of breaths came in hiccupping gasps. "This...b-but..."

A cold fury descended suddenly over the child's face, setting her jaw and tensing her mouth. Tongues of flame licked at her hair and hands. She stood up slowly and patted away some of the dirt from her clothes. Her stance set, tall and proud, but this time she set her left side forward.

"Mister Orlouge. You made a deal and broke it in the same breath. This one time, I will say that maybe it was an accident and you didn't mean to. But if you break it again, we aren't sparring anymore. There will be no ice cream. And I will burn you to the ground. So don't. Do it. Again."

Fire rippled around her, ready to make good on that threat.