Good Things Come In Small Packages (OPEN)

[FennWenn]

No matter how hard he tugged or pounded, Fenn’s foot remained stubbornly stuck within the ice. From within his illusion, the world outside had a tint to it, as if Fenn was peering out of a tent of sheer gauze. What he saw was not good.

He thought he might have detected a glimmer of something warm in Shinsou’s gaze. Whatever it had been, it was overshadowed by the eager smile that shot across the approaching warrior’s lips. It made Fenn stiffen. Not scared by the dragon? Shit, he IS a legend, isn’t he? What’s he doing now- oh fuck. A purple… circle-y blob thing scratched into behind behind Shinsou, radiating magic potent enough for Fenn to feel its magic brightness even from as far away as he was. The whole thing cast the area in an unholy purple glow. From the rift, fifteen slender bolts of similar appearance slid into view. Fenn flattened himself to the ground with a squeak. The Glamour responded by imitating his fright, jerking back with wide eyes and flared nostrils.

Thirteen of the lances whizzed just over Fenn’s head, aimed for the center and head of the dragon-guise rather than its base where he lay. They pierced the thin threading of the rearing illusion as a needle might cloth. It tore and flailed, disintegrating around the holes. Fenn could feel the keen spark of lightning as they passed, his hair standing up on end. A sharp and sulfurous taste hung in the air even after they the forest behind.

The other two were less luckily aimed. One pierced the ice just before Fenn, partially freeing him from the prison that hindered him. It also pierced his big toe.

The pain was as if a lightning bolt had just lodged itself into his foot and shot a thousand searing volts into him. Fenn jerked into a sitting position from the shock of it, the last of his Glamour torn asunder by the blow. A split second later, the last energy javlin speared into his leg with such force as to shatter him out of the ice completely. The light little Fae was blown completely off his feet. Frozen, acrid-smelling air stung his raw skin as he was thrown across the battlefield. Branches snapped, Shinsou abruptly fell into the distance behind the cover of trees, of which he smacked against like a pinball during his flight. Little cushioned Fenn from the hits he took as he tumbled about except the moss and his arms flung over his head. Eventually, he came to a rolling stop on the cold, hard ground, still spasming from the pain. His momentum had propelled him all the way to the other side of the island.

He let out a deep gasp, small hands curled into fists. Sharp pain stabbed his chest at each inward breath.

Note to self; oppoment is not easily startled. That dragon… maybe just made him eager to hit harder.

Fenn took a moment to hunch over and bleed out into the snow, hugging his arms to his chest. His leg was seared and shredded pretty badly. Tears blurred his vision as much as faintness did. Who was he kidding with this? There had never been a chance for someone so underwhelming as he to come out triumphant in the proud walls of the Citadel. His initial burst of battle lust had petered out. Coughing sprayed sour blood from his mouth. He was in pain. He was out of shiny new tricks. And his mobility was crippled to shit right now. As much as he wanted to win this and prove himself to… well, himself, Fenn couldn’t quite bring himself to raise his head from the snow and rock. Halfheartedly, the boy took mental score of the fight so far.

His own injuries: A broken nose, infinite bruises, a more-or-less useless leg, a hurting chest, and he supposed that “still spitting up blood” meant something unfortunate had happened to his internal organs after landing. He was very bad at dying.

Shinsou’s injuries: Maybe a headache? He was much worse at dying, a very impressive man indeed.

A spark of anger lit up inside the boy’s chest as he took another harsh breath. What would Daugi think of this? Scared for him, probably. His mind reeled back to the times she had come forth to protect him from danger. Fenn pushed himself into a semi-sitting position, his jaw clenched and his eyes smoldering. He came here to prove that he could protect himself for once. That he wasn’t always going to be the one to get kidnapped, or thrown across the room like a rag doll, or incapacitated. So that maybe next time he would be the one protecting her. Regardless of the strength of his enemy, was he just going to give up after the second attack?

No. Ooze was wiped from the corner of his mouth. If Fenn was going to come out of this the winner, he would have to do it very quickly. Otherwise, he was going to be blasted into gooey chunks by that shadow-electric-energy-whateverthefuckitwas magic.

With his leg in the state it was, standing up was probably not an option. Fenn didn't even want to try putting weight on it. Instead, he wriggled out of his shirt -- the cold didn’t bug him anyway -- and hastily wrapped it around his leg in a way that could only loosely be called a bandage. It hurt like hell, sending shudders and gasps through him, but it was necessary. Even if he lost, he didn't want to to be by anything so mundane as blood loss! The once white fabric rapidly soaked ebony with his blood. Soon as his excruciating makeshift medical care was complete, he painstakingly crawled to the very edge of the island. Nothing but the hard rock underneath the soil and the unyielding abyss greeted his eye when he peered over as he had done when he had first entered the arena.

Would tricking someone into the deep do the job? It was all he had. Heaven help him if one of Shin’s magics enabled him to fly...

Once more, Fenn dug inwards for his magic. It was ailing alongside his mental and physical exhastion, but it was still there. Snow frothed itself into existence again. It swirled across the ground and wove through the trees like searching tendrils. In all likelihood, Shin would be able to use it as a guess as to where Fenn was -- but only a rough guess. A pair of ice chunks reluctantly materialized over his bloody frostbitten hands. They hovered with what little energy he had left to maintain them.

All he had was what little determination held his tiny body into a sitting position. He wasn’t sure what he would do with them. Cast them against the rocks for misdirection and lead the man the wrong way, off the cliffs? Pelt the man so that he’d fall off entirely? Miss and give away his position, incurring Shinsou’s swift wrath?

Only one way to find out...

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Shinsou watched his powerful magic utterly dismantle the draconian ice form in front of him, before freeing the young Fae from his icy trap with the collateral damage caused by the remaining spears. The Telgradian, who had not had time for a haircut in weeks, brushed his long brown hair back behind his head so that the tangled mess would no longer obstruct his view of Fennwick stumbling about the snow, injured and desperate. A curious expression carved itself across Shinsou’s snow-dusted face; the kid had taken one of his most powerful attacks and yet, despite the calamitous wounds that had been inflicted on the young child, Osiris could see no fear in his eyes at all.

It was then that Shinsou saw something in this boy entirely different to anything he had seen before. Not a look, or a feeling, or even his actions. It was something that oozed determination. Or was it desperation? Whatever it was, it reminded Shinsou of that moment from his childhood; the moment he became a man.

I stood in a daze, gripping Enpera tightly as I could within my grasp. I remember my hands gripping the hilt so hard that they went chalk white. My cracked lips pounded back and forth heavily with every painful breath. I can’t forget that feeling.

His golden eyes flashed quickly over the red markings in the snow that marked the Fae’s labored movements. The Telgradian started to move in but, as he took his first steps, Shinsou suddenly stopped dead as a flurry of snow once again whipped up about the Fae, among foliage that now entangled itself around them both, and once again obscured Fennwick from view. The whorls of white snared the young boy in a thick plume, one that prickled Osiris’s skin with the cold shards of hard snow that whipped him from almost every direction.

Enpera was much too big for me. Shit, I was only a boy, and the bastard thing weighed me down so much as I tried to run. Bearing the brunt of that blade was like hauling around a god-damned crucifix. I remember wincing in pain every few seconds from the cramp I was suffering. It was in every muscle in my arms and legs.

Yeah, I remember. I struggled to follow Riisa through that thick white fog from the flames of the of the Jal Shey attack. I watched our greatest warrior as he seemed to dance before my eyes in slow motion. Then, I got sucked back into real-time. The sounds of screaming and roaring fires suddenly jumped back to life, surrounding and choking my senses. Then, they appeared; three Jal Shey assassins phasing from the thick smoke like phantoms. Their hissing drowned out everything around.

Shinsou dropped his blade by his side. The boy, concealed once more, seemed to be running out of steam. As the vortex of snow tussled them both, no projectiles or spells were forthcoming. Was this really it? Had the Fae already exhausted his arsenal?

"Do not face them, child. Your father would never forgive me! This way, we should make for the forests!". That’s what Riisa said to me. I wanted to fight, but all was a blur. Together, we dived from the roads and into the thick forest edge. There were hundreds of the bastards, perhaps even thousands crawling over the city's vast architecture like a swarm of locusts tearing apart a season's crop. As I struggled to follow Riisa through the trees and foliage, what angered me most, even as powerless as I was and despite being armed, was that not a single Jal Shey had raised a sword to me. They were only interested in Riisa. They deemed me not worthy of battle. To suffer the deliberation of tormentors as despicable and amoral as the Jal Shey made me burn inside with a blinding fury. After that, I was determined to kill every last one and die fighting, if I had to.

After what seemed like an age, the snowstorm cleared a little. Within, a pair of icy lumps hung limply in the air. The backdrop was of the bloodied Fae; eyes steeled, expression focused and despite being in immense pain, still holding control over his magic. He was clutching onto everything with every spare drop of energy he had left inside, adamant that if he could do only one thing within his power, it would be to survive this encounter as long as he could.

He would die at the hands of the Telgradian before he’d let go.

Being in the Citadel that would hardly be a problem for either of them, but this encounter had provided Shinsou with food for thought. Osiris had seen something in Fennwick within ten minutes that he wouldn’t have been able to find in most men if he had years to spare.

“Are you afraid?”

The words had barely left Shinsou's mouth before a fierce look leapt from the prostrate kid. It was one thing to lose to someone, but quite another to have their courage questioned, even in a place where death was a feeble restraint. Shinsou drew his thin sword Shira, making no sound, simply swooping his arm left to right to carve a V in the snow next to him.

“You’re not afraid of me, not really. I’ve seen fear, real fear, in men’s eyes before. To not be afraid of the kind of power I wield; to not be fazed by the sheer weight of the task ahead of you in continuing to fight me takes courage. But courage isn’t enough. You need to temper courage with experience and skill. You have some skill, but lots of potential. No experience, though. You need a teacher. So…”

There was what could only be seen as a look of interest in the Telgradian’s countenance as he surveyed the results of his work; there was satisfaction he had defeated Fennwick, but now his curiosity was piqued by the frost mage’s potential. Why, though? It wasn’t to serve the Brotherhood, or even himself.

Perhaps it’s because I wish I could have been like him in that forest with Riisa…

“…after we conclude our business here, come back to the Citadel tomorrow with that same steel and i'll help you become something far greater. If, of course, you have what it takes."