“I think that I should be immediately regretting this decision,” Sei spoke into the head of his advisor, Andrew Octane, “What if Breaker destroys the tower in the thrill of the fight?”
Then we will rebuild, and maybe even post a ‘Never Forget’ plaque in the new, better model.
“Not funny,” Sei pointed out, overlooking the arena that had been decided for the final chamber of the Cell, the Armonia Chamber. “I am pitting four of my strongest generals, three of which were too busy fighting one another to focus on the task at hand in the first round, mind you. Breaker is a destructive force of nature; it’s going to take weeks to rebuild the mess hall after round two. Worst still, we’re putting Draug, a man who is quickly tearing through the ranks as public enemy number one. And that poor girl…”
The one who reminds you of Kyla?
“That’s the one. Emma rounded up some thieves in the last round, and they may or may not be connected to her." Though it had only been an hour since the last round of the Cell, Kyla Orlouge, Sei’s favorite for the tournament as well as his daughter, had sustained too much damage. Something seemed off about her now, but the mute could not quite put his finger on it.
Something about this ‘Roht Mirage’ girl (whom the mute had come to learned was actually called Astarelle) was important enough for Kyla to defend with her life. Sei did not know what it was yet, but he was determined to find out, by pitting her in with some of the toughest Althanas had to offer.
He flew the safe distance of twelve feet above the Mystic dome (Which in itself was only ten feet high this time). The square of the tower was twenty-five by twenty-five feet, with no real cover for anyone to hide behind. The gimmick, this time, was that the dome extended past the towers length and width, and anyone who would fall from the granite stone monolith would more likely than not make a satisfying squishing sound upon contact with the ground.
The crowd was now surrounding the tower, cut off from the other warriors by the ten feet of ground and air that the dome covered. Mages of all varieties had gathered to show images of the fights events. Any second now, the fighters would be ascending the stairs of the tower, coming up from the cellar-like double wood doors and making themselves known. The finalists of the Cell. The Survivors.
“This is it, you six,” Sei proclaimed, his wings keeping him form from falling to his death below, “The battle of the year os about to take place. This is The Cell Finals! Now take us for a little ride!”
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