Good Things Come In Small Packages

(I figured we ought to transfer this and get it judged? ^^' if that's okay!)

As his wandering had taken him to Radasanth again, Fenn figured it was about time that he check out this Citadel he had heard so much about.

Last time had been here, he had not had quite the confidence he needed to approach the place. Now, padding through the streets atop his hulking direwolf Daugi, the boy was ready to test his mettle. It wasn't hard to locate the Citadel. It loomed over them as a gigantic obsidian shrine to battle. Daugi trotted up to the great building with a short "Wuff!" of approval at its majesty. The little Fae patted her on the head and slid off her back. Wait here, for me. he told his mount with a firm flutter of his hands. She agreed only after sticking her head through the doors a moment to sniff for danger. Evidently the only thing it reeled of was sweaty men and old people. Yawning, the wolf flopped over for a snooze just outside the building, her tongue lolling contentedly out of her mouth.

Sighing in relief, Fenn strolled past her and into the building. Here, in these great halls, Fenn could fight the strongest of the strong if he so chose.

The tiny Fae was well aware that he was not the strongest of the strong. He felt fragile and unprotected as he padded through the stony entrance, watching in wonder as warriors of far greater caliber than he went off to their battles -- ones even they might not win. A chilly wind swirled around Fenn in glee. The feeling of smallness only made him more determined to try his hand at the Citadel’s challenge. If he would not be mighty, then by his own damn divinity, he would be clever and quick.

And in all honesty, he needed a reason to test his ice attunement. He couldn't rely on Daugi to protect him all the time. The horrors of the world needed to know that he could whoop their asses any day!

Not long had passed before a bald monk garbed in the robes of the Ai’Bron order approached the wandering Fae. He crouched down in front of Fenn and spoke softly, as one might address a child. “Are you lost, little one?” the monk asked, kindly extending a hand. Fenn shook his head and produced a messily-written note from the folds of his cloak. Puzzled, the monk accepted it, brushed off the frost, and began to read;

I AM HERE TO FIGHT. DIRECT ME TO AN ARENA AND SET ME UP WITH A SUITABLE OPPONENT. THANKS!

The monk seemed startled by the request. He glanced back over at the childish inquirer, taking in his unearthly green eyes and tapered ears. That was normally what tipped off anyone to Fenn being more than an ordinary urchin. “If you are certain. This isn’t for the faint of heart.” Fenn nodded resolutely in reply and thumped his chest with a tiny hand, ready to go. Hesitantly, the monk led him down a series of hallways and directed him to a door. Once opened, it revealed a faintly humming, pulsing portal. Dabs of cool colors swirled on its glossy black surface. The way the Ai’Bron went about their magics was a mystery, and the portal was a curiosity to the Fae. Fenn glanced back at the monk, who nodded at him and watched as he reached out to touch it with his left hand.

As soon as he did so, the portal enveloped him in its ethereal mass. With a soundless gasp, Fenn found himself thrust, breathless and stumbling, into an entirely different place. An entirely different world, even.

It seemed to be night in the chosen arena, as the first thing Fenn saw was a starry expanse spread over the world above. A thrilled shudder ran through him and his bare feet sank in the thin snow spread over the grass. Tall fir trees sparsely dotted the landscape, lit by moss patches that glowed a deep and delightful green. Fenn's frosty freckles sparkled in the light. But there was something even more breathtaking about the place; it was but a small island in the sky, entirely untethered from the world. Fenn ran over to the edge a moment and peered excitedly into the abyss below.

If this wasn’t some sort of a hallucination, he wondered where such an ethereal place might exist.

Taking a deep breath, Fennik collected himself and wandered back into the trees. There was a sleepy, still feeling to the island. To most, the total silence might have been unnerving. For Fenn, it felt like a reflection of himself, and each breath of the quiet brought him a clearer head. Not a bad way to kick this off.

A broad boulder with craggy texture marked the center of the island. Fenn strode toward it and clambered onto the top. There he waited for his opponent to appear, his breath quick and nervous. What sort of challenge would this be? It was fairly certain that Fenn would have some sort of initial advantage in the fight; he found that most people were reluctant to slay a child. He'd better come up with a proper strategy of some sort for when that advantage faded. Taking a deep breath, Fenn loosened up and grinned, looking down on the glorious arena arrayed out before him.

This ought to be good. He loved new experiences.