I'm a Fun Guy, I Promise! (Closed to Flamebird)

Rehtul's face was red. He brought a single hand up as if to punch a nearby wall and merely covered his face with his palm. He could feel the eyes of the priest on him as he groaned in embarrassment. His voice echoed off the walls rather loudly and caused him to start. He took a deep breath and uncovered his face, adjusting his glasses as he did so.

"So everyone knows of my shame, then?" he asked in tones dripping with venomous intent. If words could kill...

"Not everyone. Just anyone who happened to look, which is most of the people you've ever fought here," the priest said. "I mean, I couldn't believe you lost to someone like that, but here we are. This is why I constantly tell you not to underestimate your opponents. They might know some tricks you don't."

"But it was water magic! I should have had the upper hand!" Rehtul whined piteously. He realized what he was doing shortly and snapped his mouth shut almost immediately. Without much ado, he turned on his heel and walked out of the Citadel's healing chamber, a chuckling priest behind him. He thought he heard the man say something as the door swung shut behind him, something about 'creativity,' but couldn't be bothered to go back and ask. He had already humiliated himself in front of his elder enough.

Instead he walked out into the main hall of the Citadel and just stewed in his own juices for awhile.

How... how the hell did she beat me like that? I should have had every advantage against her, short of frying her with lightning... What the hell happened?! He had seen it. She managed to whip her magic at him at incredible speeds, realign them in midair, curl them around any obstacle put in front of her. The sheer pliability of her magecraft gave her an edge that he hadn't accounted for. She was not only adaptable in thought, but in form. Fluid in her movements, and so were her spells, capable of moving in any direction she desired.

Rehtul, by contrast, was strict and unbending. His spells functioned almost exactly to his specifications, and lacked the ability to change halfway through the casting. His budding ability to control them within a certain distance was certainly put to the test as he used it... and since he couldn't react as quickly as her water could... solids obviously would take a bit longer to respond to reshaping than water would. He also had a much more limited range of control than she did. It seemed no matter how far he ran, he wouldn't be able to escape the grasp of her long water tentacles.

He sighed and rubbed his chin as he stood up. She had him on range. That was one of the most important issues. He definitely wouldn't be able to beat someone who was able to hit him before he could get close enough to hit them.

Perhaps the time had come for a new challenge, something to take his mind off things, he thought. With a shrug to himself, he made his way down the halls toward another door. After all, his next challenger couldn't possibly be someone he'd regret fighting later, could it?

The sound of water circling down a drain trickled away as she rummaged through her satchel. From inside a small washroom, Felicity Rhyolite leaned against the wooden wall above the waste bucket. She had needed to go before her Citadel fight, and had just finished washing her hands like a responsible person. She pulled out a mirror from the bag. The cold item was held in a fanciful, old wooden case. The mirror itself was made not of glass, but of ice. The ice mirror, after four years of usage, still served her well.

The eighteen year old gazed into the reflection. Her hair was mostly pulled back into a loose yet strict bun. Smaller strands of hair lined the sides and her forehead. Her large forehead... The redhead tried brushing more hair around to cover her forehead, eyes narrowed in dull annoyance.

The girl sighed as she lowered the mirror. She looked down at her sturdy frame. The clearly muscular, fit girl attempted her best to dress in a respectable manner - she was a general, after all. Outside the Citadel, she had responsibility. She wore a black coat. With double buttons wrapping the top, the back strips of the coat reached down to her ankles. She had tight, black leather boots on her feet, still suitable for acrobatics. The white pants, tucked under all other cosmetics, unfortunately bore marks and stains of mud and ash from the journey here. Felicity was unused to wearing such formal attire here, but she was an honored member of the Brotherhood of Castigars now. It was her duty to look her best.

She had grown up.

She slipped the mirror back into the pack hanging on the nail of the locked door. She rested her head against the back of the stall, internally questioning the battle ahead. She was tired of paperwork and ordering soldiers around. She wanted to feel alive. With her mentor a bit busy for training sessions, Felicity turned to the brutal yet brilliant Citadel.

A heavy thud sounded from just outside. Felicity's head shot up, eyes wide, as boisterous knocking barraged the door to her stall. "Come on! You've been in there for ten minutes, I need to go!"

With a long sigh, Felicity pulled the satchel from the back of the door and wrapped it around her body. Battle awaited her...

She opened the stall. As a rather angry dark elf rushed into the stall, Felicity stepped onto the cold stone floor. Just down the bland, vacant hall stood a hooded figure. The monk of the Citadel leaned against the wall, guarding several weapons laid against the wall. His expression was vague and shadowed as the girl walked over. She started clipping the two arming swords to her belt as the monk spoke with a voice like cold water.

"Your fight is down the hall and to the left, Madame."

Felicity hooked the quiver of iron arrows to her belt, then reached for her knife as she hooked the knife's sheath to the strap crossed over her arm, she smiled and nodded to the monk. "Thank you."

The monk continued to look straight ahead, into some sort of void. Felicity's smile melted like snow. She strapped the sheath to her katana on the strap and pulled it to her back. Silently grasping her war bow, she jogged down the empty halls until she reached her destination. She had seen it many times before. An unassuming, simplistic oak door. On the other side, however, the monks worked their brilliant magic. Her sense of magic flared as she opened the door.

The door cracked open, revealing a long forest ahead of her. This forest, however, was the most bizarre of places. Instead of trees, this arena was spotted with massive mushrooms. The tree sized mushrooms, red, blue, green, yellow, and more, covered the damp landscape in colorful array. The ground on the other side of the door was damp and cool. Felicity could feel the chill floating up from the weed coated, muddy ground. Understanding that her outfit would ruined by the wet weather, Felicity took a deep breath and took a step in. The mud was insanely shallow, barely making a splash as Felicity stepped inside. She closed the door behind her, taking in the rich earthy scents of this land.

Step after step, Felicity walked under the mushroom forest. A diversity of sizes and shapes surrounded her. Many shadow colors danced on the forest floor as sunlight filtered beneath the shrooms delightful canopies. So caught up in the strange forest, Felicity smiled as she took step after step into the forest. The door was soon lost and out of sight.

Felicity remembered very well that battle was to be fought here. She knew the muddy ground would pose a problem for her footing and once again regretted wearing this outfit here. Attempting to be mature, Felicity forgot how much the elements could effect her. Looking up towards the dim sky, Felicity clenched her war bow. She would have to get dirty and fight. Both mud and blood would fly within this fungal paradise.

She was ready.

"It's time," Rehtul said to himself as he pushed himself off the wall and opened the door before him. He'd been told to wait a couple of minutes for them to find him an opponent, and just to enter that door when the time had elapsed. He breathed in the new air and found it to be damp and muggy. He looked at his white pants and coat with a cringe. This was going to be a dirty fight, he could already tell.

He stepped through and heard the telltale squelch of boot hitting mud as he looked around. The place was dimly lit, but visibility was still there. He could easily see his opponent, so long as they didn't have some ability that allowed them to blend into the shadows. Soft luminescence filled the area around him as he continued to walk forward. The source was giant mushrooms, fungi, growing as tall as the trees of Concordia and emitting a soft glow in a rainbow of colors.

"Hm, well... Where plants fear to tread, fungi will often take their place. They don't necessarily require direct sunlight to grow, so it comes as little surprise that they'd be able to grow easily in a subterranean environment like this one. Though that does beg the question..." Rehtul trailed of as he looked in every possible direction for a wall or roof. As the gloom turned into pitch black darkness at the edge of his vision, he could see no signs of an edge to this underworld populated primarily by bioluminescent fungi.

He frowned slightly as he came to a stop. His ears perks up as he heard the same squelching that his own boots had made. His opponent was nearby and apparently favored somewhat the same type of footwear for battle. As their silhouette came into view, Rehtul could make out it was at least someone who was taking this seriously. It appeared to be a dress uniform fitting for a ranking officer of some military unit, but also appeared tough enough to protect the wearer under normal combat situations.

Probably lined with puncture resistant materials, he thought to himself. As the woman, for from her body shape he could now tell that this was indeed a woman, approached, Rehtul reached toward the mud beneath him and concentrated. The air around him dropped in temperature substantially as white-tinged wind whipped around his arm. Water, cool and clear floated up from the damp floor and around his gloved hand. It solidified itself into a wrist-mounted sword. He gave it a couple of experimental swings and then turned toward his opponent.

"I pray you don't mind me arming myself ahead of introductions. I'm Rehtul Orlouge. I'll be your opponent today."

Walking through the rapidly darkening arena, Felicity was awestruck by the glowing mushrooms crowded around her. Under the thick canopy of a forest pulling her deeper, deeper in, Felicity developed another feeling as well. Nervousness.

Her bow gripped tightly, Felicity wandered aimlessly in the dimming fungal forest. Soon, the only light left was that of the eliminating mushrooms. Felicity cared not for being lost, but the silence was unsettling. Then - footsteps. Not her footsteps. It was someone. Squinting through the darkness, Felicity spotted a shadowed figure between the shrooms. The young woman hastily jogged closer, yet she felt the magic ahead pulse with her senses. She skidded to a halt, slightly sliding in the mud. Was her opponent already going to attack?

From the darkness, vapor started to glow. She saw a lone hand stretched as bright water and hissing steam collected around him. Felicity's heart rate skyrocketed as an ice weapon forged itself upon his arm. The lights of the mushrooms started to glow brighter as Felicity dropped her bow completely. As the weapon fell into the thick mud, drowning beneath it, harsh memories sliced at her like jagged knives. Horrid memories of ice she long desired to outrun, but never could.

"I'm Rehtul Orlouge. I'll be your opponent today."

A more pleasant memory suddenly broke through the rest.

"I’ll walk you out. I think the next time we fight, we should do so on solid land."

Like dim sunlight peaking through the clouds, Felicity felt warmth reenter her shaken heart. The memories still buzzed around her like insects, but she was able to bat them away as she smiled brightly.

"Rehtul! It's Felicity!"

Raising her hands to show friendship, Felicity took several steps closer. The strange light of the fungi bathed them both in alien visibility. Rehtul, this man, she had not seen in four years. He was one of the first opponents she had ever met in the Citadel. Despite their hostile meeting, they had left each other on friendly terms. Despite the time, he looked quite similar to what he once was. Only the glasses on this royal, proper Mystic's face was different. His clothes, which he obviously put time and effort into, were half ruined by the mud already. Although his ice weapon caused her anxiety, his identical personality was rather comforting to her. Yet, the gap of time between this meeting and the last ran long between them. Nostalgia, sadness, overtook Felicity as she remembered all she had lost since then.

"It's..." Her mouth parted in dumb surprise and melancholy distance, "It's been years..."

"Felicity. That young lady I gave the mirror to all those years ago? I didn't know you'd still be coming here all these years later. You've..." Rehtul looked her up and down with a half smile. "You've definitely changed since then." He let his arm fall to his side as he relaxed. The world around them seemed to come to a standstill as he thought back to the days when they had battle, four years ago. He had been such a child himself back then. He still was, in a sense.

He could remember clear as day that his hair had been ruined during that fight by a rogue lightning strike that sent him into an absolute rage. He had been extremely unhappy and had avoided going out during severe storms for almost a year afterward. After awhile, he'd finally cut his hair shorter and stopped being so obsessed with his appearance.

He snapped himself out of his reverie and smiled a little more fully as he said, "I think I have too, come think of it."

"Well, this is a second meeting, apparently decided by fate itself. You want to pick up that thing you dropped?" Rehtul asked, pointing at the area where the item she was carrying had been dropped with his ice sword. "I'd hate to have you start with a handicap. We can catch up after everything's over and done with."

"After all," he said with slight grin, "That little match we had before didn't let either of us really show what we were capable of. This should be infinitely more interesting."

Felicity turned to look down at the missile weapon in the mud. Beneath the murky brown. the dimly lit bow lay still. Felicity bit her lip. No, she could not use that thing here... it would end the fight too quickly.

Felicity looked back up to Rehtul. With her chest still tense with pain, she powered on. As the multicolored mushroom forest lit the darkness, the reached to her belt. She pulled out a delyn sword. The colors of this wondrous arena danced and flickered like fire on the blade as she removed it from its sheath. The arming sword, simple in design, boasted elvish writing which glowed against the vibrant colors surrounding them. This sword was named Heart.

"I'll stick with what I'm good at." Felicity admitted.

She took a single step through the mud. As the thick, oozing mud splashed against her leggings, she took another. Then, she sprinted forward. Her target was someone who had grown in character just as much as her. Felicity had targeted him in melee combat years ago, but that was... well... years ago. She had no idea what to expect, but she enjoyed this great unknown. Rehtul was shadowed in the natural darkness, despite the mushroom auras against his glasses. Felicity raised her blade in the back right guard, aiming to slice a clean and simple cut at Rehtul's chest. She knew Rehtul would bring his blade to block her's, so Felicity would react accordingly. Due to the upwards swing of her blade, she would be able to duck as she slid her blade across his. She hoped to either use her spare hand to land a punch or stab him in the shoulder this way.

The fight was on.

And she goes straight for the close and personal attack, Rehtul thought. Perhaps she hadn't changed as much as he thought. He would concede, of course, that she appeared to understand what she was doing far more than before, but... Well, perhaps showing her a thing or two he learned wouldn't be a bad idea. Instead of trying to dodge backward, Rehtul brought his own sword up to catch hers. What would be considered strange, if Felicity had been paying attention, was that a shard of the ice had detached from his wrist mounted blade and slithered up his arm, across his shoulder, and into his other waiting hand, leaving a clean hook on the back part of his sword, where he intended to catch her own.

Rehtul wrenched his sword in a twisting motion, intent on using Felicity's own momentum in an attempt to flip her into the mud beneath their feet while dodging outside the range of her other hand.

I had to learn from that water caster... Being fluid in one's movements and allowing one's creations to change shape to suit your need is an intriguing idea. I suppose I could learn to be a bit more flexible in my approach to situations, he thought.

"I dunno... I've been sticking with what I'm good at, and it hasn't gotten me very far. I think some flexibility in one's approach could prove valuable from time to time," Rehtul said. Once out of Felicity's way, Rehtul would use the shard he had slipped off the back of his own blade, twist it into a throwing dagger, and launch it from his voluminous white sleeve with the speed of a striking viper at her chest.

Felicity was quite the physical beast. A living weapon in more than one way, her strength and power were not to be trifled with. Yet, she made a vital mistake in her initial approach. Momentum. Maybe, Felicity was so used to being strong, she forgot how physics could be manipulated against the player. Thus, Rehtul was more than capable of using her momentum to outmaneuver her. Her weapon fell to the ground as she slipped in the mud. Under Rehtul's redirection, she rolled into the mud entirely. Her outfit was ruined.

As if she truly cared. This was war. Hair messy and fallen over her face, she did not waste a second. Pulling herself to her hands and knees, she looked up to see a sharp throwing knife flying towards her chest. Felicity had no armor, something foolish on the surface. However, she instinctively pulled her muscular arm up to block the knife. There was a reason she came with no armor. With a sickening sound, the blade cleanly burrowed itself into her arm. Toxic blood, with a sickening atmosphere, spewed from the arm and caused the mud it fell upon to bubble in heat. Her irises dilated as a new energy took over. She felt no pain, just violent energy. In and instant, she jumped from the mud. Her nuclear powers were activated.

When she bled, a response was triggered in her biology that made her more powerful. She was already strong before, but these powers made her even stronger. Furthermore, the nuclear energy made her body toxic. Radiation poisoning seeped through the air, causing the closest mushrooms to develop a sickly wilt. Her blood especially could cause one to burn. The ice, regardless of its strength, was already melting upon the heat generated by Felicity's radiation. However, there were negative side effects to this power as well - anger. This power altered the frontal lobe, causing anger to bubble to the front, steadily impairing the ability to think clearly. As of now, she simply darted towards Rehtul with reckless impatience, a sort of extreme adrenaline. Yet, if cut more the power grew in all side effects...

She yanked her prevalida arming sword from its sheath. The black blade reflected the glow of the scenery as she aimed yet another swipe, more ferocious and swift than the last, at her opponent once again. She would usually step back, form strategies, if only her power did not afflict her head this way.

Could Rehtul outmaneuver this?

Interesting reaction, Rehtul noted in his head as he looked the woman over as his knife entered her flesh. What he did not anticipate was everything else. Her blood was aflame and radiated some sickening energy unlike anything he'd ever seen in his life. Nearby fungi were already wilting from the sheer output of this energy. It was like the smog from a volcano, only invisible and... He sniffed and backed up a few steps.

"Her blood is like a toxic flame," he muttered under his breath as the heat radiating off of her body swept by him in waves. He felt nausea sweep through him like a torrent as the heat from her body approached him. "It's like she can poison you without even touching you."

Something about this was off. Rehtul knew it. She looked pissed, and he had only barely scratched her. What was causing this? The wound?

Dammit, what the hell... Could it be... exposing her blood to air? It's not impossible, I'll concede. That means she could activate whatever the hell this is on her own just by making a small cut on an inconspicuous spot on her arm, though.

The more he thought about it as she rose from the slop beneath them, the more convinced he was that this was indeed the case. What other possible effects could this damage have on her, however? It seemed a bit more than just this toxic power pouring off of her in waves. There was something far more unstable about her movements. Then she drew another blade and made her attack.

Rehtul didn't hesitate. He jumped backward and touched the tip of his own blade to the muck beneath. Behind him, a frosty circular disc of ice formed. He slid across it, but stopped short of the edge. He did a little hop and felt his shoes dip into the disgusting mud beneath once more. With the disc between the two of them, he scowled.

"Letting your temper get the best of you? Shameful," he said. With that hanging between the two of them, he raised his booted foot and stomped down on the disc. It stood up straight in the gunk as Rehtul ran his magic through the blade of his ice sword. He lunged forward and stabbed the center of the disc. The force of his magic launched the nearly hundred pound hunk of ice toward the young woman at an alarming speed.

Of course, it was obvious that such a direct, unstrategic attack would not land. This was especially the case with a clever mage like Rehtul Orlouge. Indeed, a massive disk formed and proceeded to slam into Felicity's stomach. The wet ground caused her to practically fall back, ramming into one of the mushroom trees. The earthy, softer flesh of the plant only cushioned the attack a little. Sure, Felicity had a remarkable pain tolerance, but this thing just creamed her!

Felicity's nuclear energy slipped away, allowing her to feel the full pain echoing from her ribs to the rest of the body. She lifted the disk, almost casually, and shoved it aside. Still, for a moment she struggled to get up. The ground slipped from beneath her, causing her bum to hit the ground again. In pain, coated in mud, bleeding from her arm, and being slightly dazed left her in an uncomfortable situation.

This isn't going well...

It was time to take a step back and assess the situation. Felicity knew now that direct attacks did nothing. How could she take the time to think, however, when Rehtul worked best keeping her at range?

Using the mushroom to balance herself, she stood to her feet using a free hand to fix one of her rib bones, visibly in pain, Felicity glared hard at Rehtul before reaching down and pulling out her knife. Hoping to distract him for a moment, she threw it like a spear at him before bolting towards the deeps of the forest. Using the mud to her advantage, she slid as she used the mushroom trees to steady herself. Ducking behind a large, red shroom, the girl panted as she recollected her bearings.

It was obvious direct attacks did not work, yes. However, Felicity noticed something. Rehtul did not use direct attacks either. He used maneuvering skills and ranged attacks to keep her away from him. His weakness, Felicity realized, was close quarters. She needed to corner him, as she excelled in melee and unarmed squabbles. Yet, how to get there?

Felicity reached down and with a grubby hand, pulled out an iron arrow from the quiver in her belt. She had lost her bow, two arming swords, and a knife to the murky ground now. She was lucky she still had arrows and her katana, Copycat.

She hastily devised a plan. She took all her arrows and pressed them against her arm, careful not to cut herself further. Drenching the iron tips in her radioactive blood, she darted from the mushroom to face Rehtul.

Instead of charging straight towards him, Felicity took a more zig zagging pattern. Once again using mud to hasten her movements; whenever she rested one hand against a tree for stability, she chucked an arrow with her powerful arm and ducked behind the fungi before darting out again. She tossed another arrow as she made way from one shroom to another, then hid again before running from a random side. She hoped the erratic pattern and poisoned arrows would be distracting enough to get close to him. If she did, she would pull Copycat out and try to corner him enough to engage in direct melee combat.

She had regained her head. This much was obvious from the way that she was eyeing him up as she recovered from the disc hitting her. Whether this was the effect of knocking the wind out of her or not was unknown, but she was back in it and not flailing at him uselessly anymore. Rehtul frowned as he realized something else. She could formulate something that wasn't a straightforward attack now. His boots made a loud "shluck" sound as he tried to keep himself mobile. Had he been wearing looser fitting footwear, he'd have lost his boots in the muck by now. The stray thought amused him, but despite his small grin he kept an eye on Felicity.

She's going to do something... weird again, he thought. So far she'd managed to keep him on his toes, but in the four years since the two of them last met, she had become something much more frightening than the mage had thought she'd be... back when he gave her that mirror. For a brief second, Rehtul thought he saw a shadow snake its way through the darkness. He was too slow to realize what it was, however, as he felt a sharp pain in the side of his calf.

Another shadow followed closely behind, and Rehtul pulled himself out of the way just in time to see an arrow splash into the wet muck behind him.

Did she just... throw an arrow at me?

"Did you just throw an arrow at- hurk!" the young Orlouge felt bile rising in his throat seconds after the strike.

"Poison? No... I didn't see any vials on her..." He gagged again. "That rancid blood?!" Rehtul swallowed hard, fighting to keep the nausea at bay as his vision swam. With a wave of his hand, the sword on his arm shattered and he used the now free hand to pull his glasses off and wipe his eyes on his sleeve.

As he looked up, he saw the young woman dart behind another of the mushroom trees. She was trying to close distance between them. If that was the case...

Rehtul reached out with a single hand willed the water in the muck beneath him to come to him once again. As she got closer, he threw a hand out and put a sheet of slick, glasslike ice directly in front of the last tree she darted behind. If she came out too fast, his hope was that she'd slip and fall. Without even seeing if the tactic worked, Rehtul turned tail and ran as fast at the dark, sticky substance under his feet would allow him. The more distance he could make between himself and the formidable young woman, the more likely he'd be able to set the situation to his advantage and trap her in a situation of his choosing.

As she darted closer to her target, Felicity's footsteps pounded in the mud. In the swallowing darkness surrounding the mushrooms, she had to keep herself focused on the silhouette of her opponent. Yet, as she darted from the next tree, her feet hit solid ice.

"Hromagh's ba-"

Her body slammed into the ice, causing it to break. Her wound screeched at her in a wild throb as her head plunked underwater. Once again surrounded by gross water, she lifted her head to see that she lost him again. An irritated, impatient hiss slipped from her mouth as she emerged from the thick, murky liquid. Paying little attention to the clumps of mud hanging off her frame, she scowled as she stomped out of the ice wreckage. How could she catch him now!

She hissed, subconsciously placing a hand over her bleeding injury. "Oh, Y'edda's..."

She scowled as she stood there, and caught the sound of footsteps pounding in the muddy water. That's it!

A grunt of pain escaped her as she darted in the direction of the sound. A yellow mushroom, a red mushroom, a green mushroom she darted by as she periodically stopped to listen for his footsteps. This was becoming a nerve pinching game of cat and mouse. She needed to close the distance and end this - not because she could not last, of course, but because of her rapidly growing annoyance. This was a fight, not a childhood game of hide and seek!

Still, as she rested against a dim, small purple fungus, she had to admit that the mud and water were helping to amplify the pain. It was a real annoyance. As she listened the nearby footsteps, she could hear her own heartbeat pounding as well. She grimaced. When one of the sloshes in the mud sounded closer to her right ear, she turned to see a glimpse of a shadow duck behind a tall, blue mushroom.

"Ah-ha!"

She darted towards the blue shroom and pulled herself to where he would be. "Rehtul-"

As Rehtul ran, he could hear the sloshing of the wetlands under him echo out into the darkness. With no native fauna around, the sounds carried for what seemed like miles. He could hear even through his own steps that Felicity was already closing in.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "I was hoping to buy a few more minutes." He slung his hand out and drew upon the water beneath him. He shaped it with his mind into a makeshift pole and vaulted himself up onto a shelf about seven feet off the surface of the water beneath. He tossed the weapon to the side and began concentrating his magic. The weapon stopped in midair and began to reform into a pair of floating hands. While he stood there, he turned toward where he was sure the young woman would be climbing. As he did, the hands were doing work off to the side, pulling up strands of filament from the surrounding fungi.

He could see through his peripheral vision that his experiment was something of a success. He was getting some high tensile strength filaments from closer to the top of the fungus, where the body was far less stiff and settled in place.

As she climbed up in front of him, he drew the hands back to himself and had them wrap the filament around his arm like a length of rope.

"Felicity," he said back, somewhat mockingly in response to his own name. The sing song tone of his voice didn't match the reality of their situation at all, and the slight grin creeping across his face told it all. He was, for once, just enjoying himself here in this moment.

Without another word he backed up and dropped off the side of the small cliff and splashed noisily into the dark green-black muck beneath him. His coat felt heavy from the coating of muck and water infused within it, but he paid it no mind. He breathed in and out calmly as he waited for the inevitable angry red head to begin following him again.

He hoped she would attempt to jump down on top of him, reckless as she tended to be, for he was prepared for that. He gauged where he most thought she was likely to jump from and stomped his foot in the muck. A few feet out from the edge of the short cliff several spikes of ice erupted, ready to impale anyone foolhardy enough to make that leap.

Even if it doesn't win me the fight, if my guess is right, this attack should remove her from the equation long enough for me to start using these makeshift ropes.

Felicity hissed as she climbed after Rehtul. The stalk of the mushroom was mushy and strange, but her anger caused her to kick bits of shroom into the muck below as she chased the ice mage.

Just as they reached the top, Rehtul leapt off again. Graceful, he disappeared into the hazy gloom, and the darkness below. Felicity growled, pulling herself atop the mushroom head with jerky movements. She hurt, she was in pain. She winced as peered into the darkness and readied herself to jump.

"Stop running!" She barked, leaping off the top of the fungal tree.

Her opponent had outsmarted her.

Instead of the smooth, lukewarm swamp waters, she collided with a series of cold spikes. Rehtul had formed approximately twelve of them, and they were so close together that she hit most of them. Her legs and thighs were completely impaled by the spikes, and she had cuts in the upper part of her body as well. One spike notably speared her side, probably puncturing a viral organ. It seemed as if Rehtul had used her impatience to his advantage, and bested her.

Ah, but he forgot one crucial thing. Felicity's power. Every hit, every bleed, made her stronger. No, this fight was not over yet.

Exposing the secret shadows, Felicity's being burned with a cloak of dark orange, poisonous energy. Nuclear power seeped from her wounds as the ice and water began to hiss. With rage screaming on her face, the girl moved. The ice spikes moaned and shattered as she overpowered them, breaking free and carrying many in her body still. Pain was unreadable, she felt no pain in this state. The dark surroundings were shaded in light. The mushroom trees, so used to the dark, were sickly in the face of such putrid power. They began to wilt ever so slightly under the effects of the power. Felicity herself could be seen ruined. Her clothes were tattered, ice spikes and deep wounds covered her mud soaked body. Steam emitted from the mud as her own body heat caused the mud to crust to dirt. The waters below reflected the reds and oranges of the nuclear cloak as Rhyolite limped towards Rehtul. All sanity was gone, only madness remained.

Improved strength, immunity to pain, unadulterated rage, radiation poisoning, and a burning nuclear cloak were on a ninety second timer. As the water below boiled in the heat, Rehtul would be forced to think fast. Hopefully, survive.

As he watched from what he perceived to be a safe distance, hidden partly in the shadows at the base of one of the giant mushrooms, Rehtul smiled. He could see that his plan had worked. She had fallen precisely where he had intended. What he had not expected, however, was what happened next. After being impaled, something awoke inside her. He wiped sweat from his sleeve as he tried to understand what was happening. What could only be described as a dull, sickly looking flame engulfed the young woman's body as he watched.

The water around her hissed and steamed. A dull candle surrounded by swirling mist was all he could see in mere seconds. The water boiled and bubbled around her. The light reflected from the mushrooms of the underground shimmied and swayed as the water was no longer still. From inside the steam Rehtul heard cracks. In the quiet of the room, they were deafening, thundering echoes that reverberated in the ice mage's ears. His body shook as he realized what this had to mean.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath as he let the ropes he had made slip from his grip and slide into the muck at his feet. If the aura surrounding the girl's body was enough to let her shatter the spikes he'd made, there was no way hit little rope trick was going to work on her. She'd just walk right through them like they weren't even there.

His legs shook as he took a few steps back from her. He knew his death would mean very little here in the Citadel, however, this being before him was somehow both more and less than human at the same time. A purely primordial power was in front of him and he could barely think to look away. Seconds dragged on for what seemed like minutes as his mind processed what would have to be done.

RUN YOU FOOL! was all he could muster, and he did just that. Without another word, the cyromancer Rehtul Orlouge was running at a breakneck pace. He didn't even care where he was going, just as long as it was away from... whatever in the hell Felicity was now. He had expected a reaction similar to last time, but this was almost too much for him to have considered. He couldn't let her get close. If he did, she could easily snap his neck, if that cloak of power surrounding her body didn't burn him to ash first.

Weak.

Felicity was so used to being that.

She had been subjugated to racism and hate in her home town, was hidden away by an overprotective uncle, and had to trust others to train her. One of her mentors turned dark, mistreated her. Her current mentor was close yet absent. And of course, her cousin was dead. Weak. It was strange that Felicity's power allowed her to grow stronger per blow, when she so often walked through life defeated.

Of course, there was another option aside staying defeated - getting stronger. Yet, however one grew stronger was in a string of multiple webs. One could grow wiser, learn from the past, and be a sage. True character growth, to rise above the past and choose happiness regardless of it all. Of course, there was another, darker strength too.

Across the fungal forests, insane screams of rage could be heard. Unrestrained, out of control. Fear could easily steal the color from a helpless soul as nuclear energy gave the shadows a sickly orange glow. There was that third option, yes. The ugly option, the revolting option. She did not even hide it. Restrained by the ice wedged into her flesh, the girl ran as fast as she could through the sludge below. Oh, yes, the sadist option. The sad option.

Taking the damage and becoming a monster.

That was it. A monster. Drool slobbered down her chin as her limbs twitched erratically. Always keeping a glazed eye on the direction of her prey, the shell of Felicity Rhyolite stomped forward as she released another eerie below.

If one listened close enough, the name of the ice mage she chased was barely comprehensible, yet nonetheless moaned.

Her very presence poisoned the world around her. Her path through the terrain was obvious. Sickened plants, gloomy water, and burnt stalks of shroom. She turned her head, attempting to keep an eye on her terrified prey. She gurgled from the foam in her mouth as she twisted her arm out, grabbing a giant fungal stalk and pulling herself forward. Her boots pounded in the shallow water as she pulled decaying, burning mushroom off the plant she grabbed.

Shaking, she made a sudden lunge towards her target, making several fast leaps before the awkwardness of the ice in her body stopped her. She pushed herself beyond human compression, pushing forward despite the pain it could cause to someone who could feel it. A shrieking creak was heard from one shard of ice as it steadily melted thanks to the cloak. The entire time, the unpredictable girl was barely keeping up with the running mage, and her very eyes peered into the cowardice in his soul.

The hunter was unable to stop until the satisfaction of the hunt was done.

Of course, the question stood - was this who Felicity truly was? Did she become this as a person between her meetings with Rehtul? Or, was this just a mocking perversion of her true personality?

Shit, shit, SHIT! was all that was running through Rehtul's head as he continued to run as fast as he could in any direction that wasn't the flaming redhead behind him. Okay, so apparently that weird blood of hers turns her into one of those berserker types that can ignore all pain in pursuit of their prey. Good to know!

Echoes of splashes, cracks, and creaks could be heard behind him, but nary a sound issued from the young woman's mouth as she gave chase to him. He could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head, judging him for his cowardice, his craftiness in using every means available to him to avoid a direct confrontation after first seeing what happened when he pierced her skin. But above that was her sheer persistence, a predator seeking prey that had spotted it and bolted.

He knew she'd have to run out of steam eventually. However, there was a slight problem with that mode of thought. He was a mage. Physical exercise of this particular nature wasn't exactly common to some blue haired git who spent most of his time reading books. The little physical training he had as a soldier wasn't enough to keep him in front of the sheer force of nature behind him. All it would take was a single mistake, a single slip, and he'd be mauled.

A feeling of vertigo overtook Rehtul as he felt gravity take hold of his body. He reached out with a both hands and caught himself in the water, mouth mere centimeters from kissing the muck beneath. The water around him was starting to warm up, likely from the approach of the mad woman. He reached down hastily to take whatever was caught on his foot and toss it to the side. What he pulled up, however, was an extremely finely made bow.

Must be what she dropped earlier, he thought.

Suddenly a spark of inspiration hit him. With his magic, he created a column of ice that pushed against his feet and launched him into the air and away from Felicity. As the warm, rancid air flew past him, he coated his arm in ice made from the water soaking his clothing and used his control over the element to force his hand to pull on the exceptionally tough material the bow's string was made of. He caught the young woman in his sights. From the air and remaining moisture in his clothing and coating his body, a large, bright white arrow took shape.

At the apex of his ascension, Rehtul released the nocked projectile, hoping against hope that the sheer size of it would allow it to punch through that shroud of heat surrounding the girl and either punch straight through her head or lungs.

"Either I win here, or I die," the ice mage said softly before he felt the stinging wet slap of the arena's murky water lash at his back. He lie there for a few moments, willing to simply let this parting shot be the final deciding factor. The only downside he could see to his gambit was the fact that he'd only ever used simple practice bows at the yards of the Ixian Castle. He'd never used something with this kind of punch before. He very well could have overshot it or undershot it. He gripped the solid shape of the bow in his left hand and waited.

Her heart pounded with ferocity as she saw sparks of tainted, dim blue through her vision of red. She saw nothing but her target. All the other surroundings were faded as mist. She stalked towards her prey, ever intent on destruction. Fight. She needed to fight. Claw at it, rip it in half, decimate it. She yearned to feel her hands tearing through flesh. She was starving to taste and feel blood. She screamed as she drew closer, closer to the object of her rage. Yet, she was unable to process what Rehtul was doing.

In an instant, it happened.

The thick crack sounded. Toxic blood gushed out as the powerful arrow buried itself into her head, then reappeared at the other side of her skull. The arrow splunked into the water with a heavy splash. The cloak dissipated from her frame as everything stopped. The monstrous beast teetered for a moment before falling backwards, into the murky waters.

The corpse was not of a monster, however, but of a girl.

~~~

"There be a monster in all of us, dear. How we control that monster... it breaks us, or makes us."

The familiar words of an old friend. When Felicity had been in a tough spot, she tried pushing her away in fear of hurting her with her monster. But her friend, named Yvonne, had refused to leave her side.

“Ye be forgiven yer misconduct, on one condition - Ye try ta think of yerself with kindness."

Despite their differing world views, Yvonne had helped Felicity to start facing her monster, and separate it from herself.

Now, Felicity was under the guidance of a teacher, Shinsou Vaan Osiris. He too believed in her.

“You did well, today. That beast was as dangerous as they come, and you punched a hole right through his defences. I had to throw everything I had at him to keep the big bastard down. Get yourself checked over, and come to my quarters when the surgeon gives you the all clear.”

Was Felicity just her powers, however? Was she just her rage? Her first meeting with Rehtul had taken place before her first mentor became a monster and her family died. However, she had still been shunned, ridiculed, and tormented by her hometown. She also had her powers back then, albeit primitive. She showed signs of monstrosity even then. She still had hatred...

Their first Citadel match was on the sailing ship, coursing through clear waters. Sea salt overtook her nose and cool spray sprinkled the fourteen year old as Rehtul introduced himself. "My name is Rehtul Orlouge, of the Orlouge Clan of Mystics. I’m... well, as you can see,” he said as he summoned a spear of ice, “I’m an Elemental Mage specializing in ice magic.”

“If you want to back out, now’s the time to do it. You came in here knowing what could possibly happen to you. If you didn’t, you can be inflicted with a lot of pain and even experience death here. It’s not pleasant.” He seemed to shiver at the thought. “Trust me, I’d know. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Felicity had been insulted then, on that pleasant pirate ship. Even if he had tried to be polite, Rehtul had still underestimated her. Felicity had dealt with being shoved aside or worse, cursed, since she was a little kid. The monster took over as she responded, "I'm positive."

The fight on the deck had continued, eventually leading to a storm brewing above the ship. In turn, her opponent had been struck by lightning. The monster could have overtaken Felicity then. Felicity could have killed the vulnerable man, yet...

Felicity instantly tossed her sword aside, racing up to Rehtul. Yes, he had underestimated her. Yes, he has frightened her. However, he was still a living being with thoughts and emotions - like her. Felicity was deeply damaged from her abuse as a child, but she learned several things from it... one of them being to treat others as she wanted to be treated.

The redhead knelt down and felt his pulse, "Are you gonna be okay?" She asked.

Felicity did not know what to do. Her panic rose again as thunder crackled in the distance. She felt the waves shake the unstable ship. The rain made it harder and harder to see ahead. Felicity choked before looking down on the injured Orlouge again. "I'm going to stop the match..."

And stop the match she did.

The question stood. Was she a monster for having dark qualities? Was she evil for feeling hatred at all? Or, was she just as capable of pushing through her depravity and being a hero instead?

Sinking beneath the dark, heavy swamp waves, her supernatural blood rose to the surface in a sickeningly thick, wretched sludge. Where the arrow has caused her to fall, only bubbling heat remained. What remained of the girl who fought her today? Was she worse off than she was facing Orlouge the first time, all those years ago?

What felt like an eternity later, Rehtul woke up in a stone room, on a comfortable mattress, all cleaned up and ready to go. He allowed himself to look over to the window, through which he could barely make out the dancing shadows of birds as they flew by the massive Citadel building. The young mage sighed and thought back to the battle between himself and the fiery redhead.

Monstrous wasn't quite the right word for how she'd behaved during their fight. When she was rational, she felt far more like the young girl he had met those years ago. However, there was weight on her shoulders that he did not sense before. It was something a bit beyond simple responsibility. It was almost as if the world had continuously tortured her by giving her hope only to rob it from her and replace it with despair when she least expected it.

"Lost in thought again, Lord Orlouge?" the monk reading at the table asked him wryly.

"You could say that, though not about the usual," Rehtul admitted. He sat up and rubbed his eyes on the back of his voluminous white sleeve. While he had only a few short hours ago been ranting about not being able to beat a simple water user, now something far more insidious was creeping into his mind.

"She'll end up actually killing herself if she lets that... weird trait of hers carry her too far," he finally admitted to himself. Someone, somewhere would be able to take advantage of that single minded fury. It wasn't hard to set up a trap for something like that if you had a little preparation. Felicity could be cut only a little bit and be led by her attacker straight into a boulder trap, or something else heavy enough to just crush her outright. There were plenty of mages who would want to study her blood; not just its effects, but its possible uses in creating unstoppable soldiers, weapons on legs who could be pointed in a direction and let loose.

"You're jumping ahead a bit in your projections of the future again, aren't you, young lord?"

"I'm concerned. I managed to stop her... what if someone else is able to figure it out faster than I did?"

Rehtul could feel a chill passing over his body.

"She's a soldier of some kind as well. The simple fact that she's willingly putting herself into combat with that ability. I wonder if she even considers it a possible weak point..."

He stood up sharply and immediately sat back down, head cradled in his palms. With a few breaths he steadied himself and managed to suppress the urge to vomit.

"Stood up to fast?" the priest said, chuckling under his breath. Rehtul nodded before noticing that the man hadn't even bothered to look up from his notes.

"Mind taking me to her?"

"I already did. Pretty sure she overheard most of your worrying, as well."

For the first time in a long time, the young man could feel his face burning.

Felicity had blacked out during the fight with Rehtul, being unable to remember past chasing him through the dank fungal forest. Most likely, her powers has activated full blast. She frequently had memory lapses because of her more powerful nuclear surges.

Upon waking up, Felicity had wasted no time in asking to see Rehtul Orlouge. She still needed to talk with him, still needed to catch up. In her hands, she carried an old accessory, the mirror he gave her.

Once the monk had entered the room, followed by Felicity, she witnessed Rehtul rant about his concerns over her. She struggled as he spoke, remaining still like a statue. Eventually, the monk bluntly stated that Felicity was in the room, causing Rehtul to turn beat red. As his eyes dilated, Felicity felt a rush of amusement over his embarrassment. Despite the serious mood in the room, Felicity laughed.

It carried on for several moments. As she laughed, she clenched her mirror close to her chest. She shifted her weight, causing the floorboards to moan. Eventually, Felicity lifted a hand and wiped the tears from her eyes. She steadily stopped laughing, his words still ringing in her ears.

The monk had existed the room during Felicity's fit of laughter, leaving her alone with Orlouge. Felicity looked down to the ground, truth and fear causing her to frown.

"Yeah," She said solemnly, "I know."

Felicity walked from the doorway to the cheap, small end table next to Rehtul's bed. She gently placed the mirror down, her hand shaking just a bit. "My powers were an experiment from the start. Wasn't until years after I got them that I realized how shady it all was."

She took a step back, fidgeting with her hands. "I still don't know why the doctor created the Serum, what his true intentions were. These powers are unstable, clearly. I could go into all kinds of details if you'd want..."

Trying to figure out the words to say next, Felicity brushed her loose hair behind her ears. Her outfit was clean, untorn. Yet, she let her hair down and the outfit was put on more... sloppily. She had been healed by the monks, but only physically. Mentally, she was quite worn.

She looked up at the stone walls, avoiding eye contact. "I'm a general in the Brotherhood of Castigars. Will this give me unwanted attention? Will someone hunt me; try to experiment on me? I don't know. But, it's a fear. I have a feeling I was recruited into the Brotherhood because of my power."

Felicity shook her head, "And I still can't control it. If I give myself a paper cut it'll accidently turn on. Rehtul, this thing is incredible in a fight, but everywhere else?" Felicity placed her palm on her forehead, "I hate it..."

She hated it. She hated her power. She hated the deception and half truths that led to that fateful injection. She hated the risks and uncertainty. She hated the lack of control. She hated the fears of being taken advantage of. She hated it, hated it, hated it. She burned inside.

Clenching her fist, Felicity scowled. "Of course, it's a part of me now. Bound in my genes. I have to live with this monster now."

She gritted her teeth. She needed to... punch something. Release the stress.

She turned and slammed her fist into the wall, cracking the stone as she unleashed a pained, frustrated hiss. "I hate it!"

Rehtul listened in silence as she explained what had happened to her. She was vague, careful not to share too many details, or perhaps not able to recall many details. It didn't really matter, though. Apparently what was done was done, and there was no reversing that. He couldn't help but frown a bit, the lines forming on his face causing him to look far older than his years for a terrible moment.

"A curse of your genes, huh?" he asked as he looked down as his hand. He clenched it into a fist as he gritted his teeth. "I think I might understand ever so slightly what you're going through, though your curse is far more physical than my own." With those words he produced a small dagger from within a sheathe on the sash around his waist. He brought it to the center of his palm and sliced. There, in broad light, seeping from the middle of his hand, was blood as deep and blue as deepest stretches of ocean between Corone and the main continent.

"Blue blood... the mark of a Mystic," he turned toward the window and looked out over the city of Radasanth with, eyes darkened with emotion. "As if being a part of that bloodline is some kind of blessing. Don't make me laugh. The Mystics are a bunch of inbred, feckless fools without the slightest idea of what it means simply not to be who they are." He turned toward Felicity and shook his head.

"Not that I can bring myself to rise above them," he stated. His hand had already stopped bleeding by this point. "My race is home to a number of unique gifts. My father and each of my uncles specializes in a different aspect of knowledge. Together the family's combined ability rivals that of the best and brightest of the entire world... and what do they do? They shut themselves in the family estate, venturing out only when there's sufficient need to propel them forward."

"Only Sei was willing to move beyond that at first, but even he... he..." Rehtul balled his hand in a fist and swung it at the nearest wall. A loud twang echoed through the room as a deep blue shard of ice embedded itself in the wall. "He betrayed me... betrayed us," he quickly corrected himself, not wanting to seem overly selfish in front of the young woman.

"My blood runs blue, but... my family has been more of a burden as of late than they've been any kind of blessing. They're motivated purely by self interest. I didn't see it for years, but that's what it boils down to. I finally understood that after what happened leading up to the dissolution of the Ixian Knights... to a number of them being slaughtered for even being Knights. My uncle, the 'Hero of Radasanth'? It's a bad joke. He agitated for war with Corone's duly appointed officials and brought the full force of the government down on our heads. It was by sheer coincidence that the entirety of the Knights hadn't been killed, myself and Sei included."

Shaking his head, Rehtul looked at the young woman with a half smile.

"Be that as it may, I am still an individual and capable of making my own choices. The same can be said for you. No matter how limited those choices may appear at first, I'm sure..." he looked out the window. "I'm sure there's some path out there that leads to a happier place, somewhere we can't see right now." He sighed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his sleeve once more.

"I am sorry, perhaps that was a little much. What I mean to say is, even if you're burdened by this curse, the path you choose is your own. I suggest travelling it alongside those who you can trust to rein you in when you need it."

Yeah... That was a lot to take in.

Felicity leaned against the wall, away from the little crater she made. Rehtul sounded like he had a stressed life, chained to his lazy, isolationist ancestors. Even then, he was convinced that he could choose his own path.

This was somewhat familiar. Somewhat. Felicity had many circumstances out of her control. Her status as an unplanned bastard child, her neanderthal blood, her fateful injection... Yet, there had been plenty of choices she had made herself. Leaving the family that had defended and loved her to chase glory. Staying with a vengeful mentor who slipped off the deep end. She had been unable to save her cousin from death when she came back. Even more, she had been too late to say goodbye with her uncle, who had died lonely in an empty house.

Every single circumstance seemed to point to the same thing...

She looked into the ice mirror, laying upon the table several steps away. Through her limited vision, she saw the face of another. She saw her old teacher, bitter, broken, and bloodthirsty. A reminder of what Felicity could become if she truly let her anger take over.

She shuddered, blinking away the image until she saw herself in the reflection. Her vision grew blurry. She looked towards the wall, wiping her tears.

Every single circumstance seemed to point to the same thing...

She was a monster.

"I..." Her throat grew tight, "I can't trust what they said about me. But..." Her back throbbed, "I can't trust myself either."

The image of a white cloak flashed in her mind. Owl wings and clocks danced in her memory. There were people she could trust. "I can follow the friends I have to redemption. I believe in them."

She shook her head, wiping the tears away still. "But... No matter how hard I try, I'm a product of shameful pasts. The future doomed to repeat unless something beyond me changes. I just don't believe in me!"

She clenched her fist, gritting her teeth as she tasted salty tears. So much anger swirled inside from all the things she could and could not control. What needed to change? She was on the verge of letting hatred for the world take over, and confirming all the things they spewed about her as an innocent child.

So that's what this is all about... She doesn't trust herself. Figured as much, Rehtul thought as he listened to her. She had friends at least, that much was certain. As asinine as it might have been, Rehtul kind of envied her that. Every friend he'd ever made seemed to have disappeared or died, and his family was certainly no replacement for the genuine connections he had made. He allowed for a slight concession with his grandparents, who seemed perfectly fine with the way he was and didn't judge him harshly for his own harsh judgment of most of the family.

"Felicity..." he started, holding out a hand before stopping himself. He stared at his open palm and curled it into a fist before forcing his arm back to his side. He sighed and looked at her with an apprehensive look.

"Honestly, I can hardly blame you for being unsure of yourself, untrusting of your ability to make the right decisions. All of us feel that way at least part of the time. What you have is a unique power, a combination of curse and blessing, one that I have no experience with how to deal with outside of what we just went through together... However, what you become is no worse in my eyes than the transformation performed by those dwarven berserker types. Certainly they have more control over when they enter that change, but the end effect isn't much different."

He turned back toward the window and thought about what he was going to say for a few moments.

"Though, that's not where the source of this issue seems to be coming from. You seem to have many regrets, things you wish you'd done differently. I can understand that, but there is a problem with that way of thinking," the young mage said as he turned to meet the eyes of the younger woman with deathly seriousness.

"If you did make those choices the way you wish you'd had, none of the bad things that you regret happening would have happened. However, you'd also be missing out on most of the good that's come out of it too. The people you've met along the way that have befriended you, the fleeting experiences of joy and laughter, and most importantly, the lessons you learned from making those mistakes. If you make the right choice the first time based on pure chance, there's no guarantee you wouldn't just end up making the same mistake further down the road, at a more critical juncture that could cost you or someone else something far more dear than you had lost on this path."

Rehtul got up to his feet and shakily made his way toward Felicity.

"You make the choices you feel you have to with the information you have. You make a mistake? You either fix it or barring that make it concrete in your mind that you'll never repeat that mistake again."

He looked at the mirror upon the table, one he recognized as it had been he who made it, years past.

"What you see reflected in the surface of that is a half truth. You're much more than what you see simply in your reflection. It doesn't show you the people who care about you or the potential you have to be more than you are. I was young and stupid myself when we first met, but there is one thing I saw in you then that I still see in you now."

Rehtul grabbed a small goblet of water from the table and took a few gulps.

"Underneath all the shit you've been put through your entire life, you still care about people. You're still willing to be kind where you can afford to be... With everything that's been going on in the world, that's a rare and valuable trait. Just be vigilant so that people can't take advantage of your better nature."

Another swallow of water passed through his lips with an audible gulp.

"As for your past? It shapes who you are now and nothing can be done to change it. How it shapes you from here on out is a decision you can only make starting now. I'd focus on that part if I were you. Learning from the past is fine. Living in it is the height of foolishness."

Felicity felt like she was drinking a heavy drink, forced not to gulp by the thickness of the liquid. She had to listen slowly to Rehtul, take his words in slowly. If not, she could gag or even choke. She blinked slowly, tears still falling. She looked away as Rehtul stood up and continued to speak. Felicity liked his kind of advice. He was gentle, but did not sugar coat. He was dead serious, honest. He was telling it as it was, both the compliments and critiques. Felicity could appreciate that.

She sighed, still leaned against the wall. Her face was wet and sticky with her tears. She put her hands in her pockets as Rehtul finished. For several moments, she was silent. She still needed to swallow that heavy drink. The first thing that sparked a response was the very last sentence. She scoffed, an amused smile crossing her lips.

Shinsou had told her not to let anyone know of this, but Rehtul had no part in the Brotherhood. Explaining this to a friend miles away from Whitevale could do no harm. Despite her tight throat, she spoke.

"Funny, I was diagnosed with a disorder literally about living in your past." Felicity lifted her hand, holding her forehead, "It's hard to explain. But, no matter how hard I try to live in the present, I still think in the past. And I can try to reason, but the panic doesn't line up." It did not matter how much she reasoned. The fear always stalked her like a predator. It haunted her like some cursed ghost. It hounded her tracks relentlessly. It wrapped her in thick vines and tied her to the roots of her past. There was no escape. It tormented her day and night. "I'm told it's way more common in soldiers and war survivors."

Felicity scoffed in amusement, "Ironic. At this point, I can't see myself being anything else other than what these last four years made me. I'm strong, but at what cost?"

Felicity extended her arm in front of her. Through blurred vision, she looked down at her hand. The hand extended, her off hand, only had four fingers. Her pinky had been mangled as a toddler, and she finally had the dead appendage removed about a year ago. "Sure, I care about other people, but is it enough? One of the reasons I feel angry so much is because of it."

She clenched her hand, "I could crush evildoers. If someone hurts anyone, I could make sure it was the last time. I want to." Tears splattered on her hand. "But would that make me a monster myself? I knew someone who thought the best way to combat evil was to kill it. She did terrible things..."

Felicity shook her head, "I don't know what to do. I have duty now, to somewhere and someone, but how do I fulfill it? I have the choice, you said it, but what if I choose wrong again? And how do I escape my own mind?"

Felicity reached up with both arms and grasped her skull, "I run! I push myself to travel, fight, experience anything to keep myself out of my head but it never works! I can't sleep without the memories coming back! I can't escape!"

The hoarse barks echoed across the isolated room as she slid down to the floor. Back against the cold wall, she heaved heavy breaths as she struggled to maintain control.

" If I have the choice, if I care for people, if I'm really that capable, then what's wrong with me? You make moving on sound so simple..."

Rehtul listened as best as he could to her explanation of everything going on in her head. He nodded a few times at appropriate places, and kept his counsel up until the end. With a sigh he leaned against the wall as she mentioned he made it sound simple. He gently placed his hand palm first on the wall behind him and began tapping, a regular, unchanging beat.

He thought back to his friends, the ones he'd lost in the Ixian Purge the Corone government took on a few years prior. Watching as one by one his friends disappeared. He could feel himself starting to slip back to those days, when people around him were in danger simply because of a connection he had with a paramilitary organization headed by one of his own family members. Men and women, many of them mere laysoldiers who hadn't been much more than peasant farmers before joining up with the Knights, pulled from the street for daring to wear the insignia badge of the organization, beaten, sometimes killed.

"Well, the problem is, it actually is a simple thing," he said, pulling himself from his reverie.

"Unfortunately, simple doesn't always equate to easy. For example, asking someone to take out the trash is a simple thing, but if there's a giant mountain of garbage piled up taller than a mountain troll and you're just one person, yeah, it's not going to be easy. That's the best way I have to explain it. It takes time... and effort, and in your case, knowledge of healthy ways of dealing with it."

He neglected to mention that he was still thinking about himself as well when he said that.

"I'd like to meet them, these people you have a duty to. To gain your loyalty, they must truly be something else."

Lifting a hand and wiping her cheek, she thought of these words once more. Simple, but not easy.

When Rehtul mentioned wanting to meet the ones she felt loyalty towards, Felicity closed her eyes. She thought of him, Shinsou Vaan Osiris. His power, intelligence, leadership, cunning... his kindness to her.

"I was lost." Felicity explained, "I had left my alchemy teacher who just kept getting shadier. I was a wonderer with no family or friend to turn to. I had no goal, no drive."

She smiled, "Then he found me."

Still leaning against the wall, Felicity crossed her legs. As the mirror glistened on the table, she lifted her head and rested it against the wall. Still smiling, still crying, she gazed up at the roof in thought.

"General Osiris took me in, gave me a new home with a new place. I have responsibility now. General of the Brotherhood. Protector of Whitevale. It's a title I carry with honor..."

The more proper, tight clothes told of that. Sure, they were on crooked. Sure, they were wrinkled. Sure, Felicity's face was puffy from crying and her hair was loose and tangled. Yet, it was obvious from the attire she wore that she took her job seriously. Or at least tried to...

Rehtul's previous words about moving on sparked in her mind again. "Simple, huh? Moving on? I have a real purpose and responsibility now.." She scoffed. She looked down at her hands, crumpled and limp in her lap. "Some days, I do great leading patrols and helping reassure the people of Whitevale. Other days, all I can think of is the family I lost or the old mentor who..."

She grimaced at the memories. One finger twitched, but that was all. The physical sensations some days were something else. "It's definitely not easy. Not when they were the ones who made you who you are... But..."

Determination fluttered in her chest. A hopeful, small glimmer of light in the gloom. She looked up at Rehtul with all the passion and zeal in the world. "I will protect Shinsou Vaan Osiris with my life. He picked me up, gave me a purpose. I owe him everything now. He's the only family I have left..."

Rehtul listened and nodded through most of what she said. When her eyes lit up, however, he found himself unable to move, even so much as a movement of his eyes. He had rarely seen anyone talk of another with so much zeal, at least not since the disbandment of the Knights. When she finished, he had to tear his eyes away and stare for a moment at an empty space on the wall.

"Alchemists..." he latched onto one of the first things she said as he tried to order his thoughts about how she talked about this Osiris fellow.

"Alchemists can easily fall into shady activity... they know the most of potions and poisons, after all. They tend to ask whether they can do something rather than if they should..." He was talking more to himself than to her, fighting to put disparate thoughts together into a coherent line of thought.

Rehtul drew a line with his finger in the air. A shimmering mist formed in the air, drawn from the moisture in the air.

"You've actually found someone you want to follow, with all your heart, someone to protect," he chuckled, though there was a slight tinge of remorse in his voice.

"I'm actually quite happy for you. It's something everyone needs, a cause to fight for." As the last few words left his mouth, Rehtul tensed up visibly, and the hair on the back of his neck began to stand on end as his eyes dilated and the temperature in the room dropped noticably.

"I have my own goal, though I doubt it's as... commendable as yours," he said, his voice little more than a growling whisper. He clenched a fist and forced himself to calm down.

"Still, I'd like to meet this man, if possible."

The darkness in Rehtul's voice was not lost to Felicity as he spoke of his own goals. However, he purposefully changed the topic back to her, giving Felicity the idea that he would rather not talk about it. She could respect that. She still found it hard to talk about her own traumas in detail. What truly troubled her was the chill in the room, easily caused by the magic she felt in the air. Felicity was so used to cold weather, thanks to growing up in Eiskalt, but this chill was different. Once again, the darkness had not escaped her. She did not even realize she was starting to tremble a bit until she looked down at her hands to see them shaking. She grasped her hands and squeezed, attempting to calm down. A deep sigh followed, and she tried to pick up the conversation again.

I've been through a lot. You obviously have too. What does drive you?

Felicity let go of her hands forcibly. She awkwardly wiped her eyes as she gulped to ease her tight throat. "Shinsou is a calm, intelligent man. He's not perfect, no one is really. But he's a good mentor." Felicity was unable to meet his eyes in the frosty atmosphere as she continued, "Please feel free to visit Whitevale sometime. It's a nice town. I would be happy to accommodate housing there - just not my house!" Her eyes dilated, "It's a pig pen."

She closed her eyes, a small scoff of amusement escaping her lips. "It's been nice seeing you again, Rehtul. I'd... hope I've changed for the better in your eyes."

Weakness threatened to take over as she stood up. This cold... was too uncomfortable. It reminded her of another person, consumed by revenge, far darker than him. Yes, she had changed. She had experienced pleasure and pain. Would it make her a better person, or worse? She still could not tell, but hoped she could bring some level of light to a dark, bitter cold world. She wanted to be good... could she be? Maybe, she should try to move on first.

"I need to go." Felicity balanced against the wall before feeling stable enough to push off. The cold wall was starting to glaze with the thinnest of layers of ice. Once again, alarm started to flare as she needed to get out.

Move on!
This ice!
It's simple!
Get out! The ice! Get out!

She shook her head firmly, trying not to sound frightened as she gave Rehtul a final smile, "I mean, it would be great to have you. And it's nice seeing someone from so long ago..."

She looked towards the door with an ache, the feeling of getting old. "Has it really been four years since..." She drifted off into thought, still compelled to leave the chilled room behind her as she moved a bit too quickly towards the door.

The PTSD could not be shaken off so quickly. Felicity, however, was strong enough to power through it every day. At least... she hoped she was.

Judgment

Thank you very much for your patience in waiting for my feedback. This thread presented a few challenges, notwithstanding both its length and format, but I do hope my feedback is both clear and fair to you both.


Plot

Story: Flamebird 5 / Rehtul 5
Setting: Flamebird 4 / Rehtul 3
Pacing: Flamebird 4 / Rehtul 5

Total: Flamebird: 13 / 30 / Rehtul: 13 / 30


Felicity, I felt you started a little slower than Rehtul. In the beginning, I felt you spent too much time explaining the mixture of current events before arriving at training as the reason for being at the Citadel for this “chance encounter”. While there is nothing really wrong with this in isolation, I felt your flaw here (and not just here, but in other areas) was not what you did, but what you could have done. Alluding to the ice mirror (therefore setting up the connection to Rehtul) gave me a hook to read on, but I felt you wasted a chance to start a little more creatively. While Rehtul boxed himself in a bit with his opener, I felt he did more with his first post more than you did.

You did much better when the two of you came face to face, during the fight and after. I felt I learned more about the actual connection between Felicity and Rehtul from your writing than your opponent. Obviously there is no feasible way that your whole history could be fleshed out over the course of a Citadel thread, but you gave me the bits I needed and made them colourful enough to hold my attention. Well done on this.

When it came to the final few posts, I found myself in two minds. You did very well in explaining to Rehtul current events, how that affected Felicity and re-establishing a connection with him, but the actual content towards the back of the thread threatened to turn into a muddle of old cliches that unfortunately have begun to stick to and (in my opinion) hold back Felicity. The whole “monster / self esteem / PTSD” internal conflict does lend itself very strongly to your persona, but it felt as if I wasn’t really seeing anything new with Felicity, like nothing had really progressed beyond the last few threads I’d read. I suppose the term I’d use is predictable, and again I think that with your level of skill and creativity you can definitely do more to drive her story forwards.

Rehtul, I say above that I felt you made the better start. I think it’s always harder to open a thread than to respond, and whilst training always feels like a convenient go-to and an often-overused trope in the Citadel, you did your best to make sure the reader got the most out of it. We not only saw why he was there to start with, but you also gave his continued participation in the Citadel some meaning. However, it would be nice to see (from ALL writers, and I include myself in that) a greater effort to escape the “training” themes of these types of thread.

The way you conveyed the relationship between Rehtul and Felicity was a mixed bag, in all honestly. You weren’t quite as good as Flamebird at telling the story of the past connection between you. Whilst there were some good snippets, I felt they weren’t as impactful or as detailed as your opponent, but you did much better than Flamebird in dealing with the present and providing the reader with valuable insight into the workings of Rehtul’s mind (especially given his own legacy as an Orlouge). Where Flamebird suffered from indulging in cliches, I felt you took a fresher approach and tried to shift the focus of the story more onto helping Felicity than producing an outpouring of Rehtul’s own insecurities. I felt Rehtul had progressed more and, for this reason, you scored slightly higher.

Flamebird, I liked your choice of arena. It felt whimsical and held potential for being something out of the ordinary. However, I felt that both you and Rehtul really struggled in this area throughout the remainder of the fight and this is reflected within your scores. My first issue was that the pair of you had different understandings of the locale, with Rehtul believing it to be a subterranean setting whilst your earlier post made clear it was outdoors (“Many shadow colors danced on the forest floor as sunlight filtered beneath the shrooms delightful canopies.”). This, in fairness, is Rehtul’s weakness but I also believe that some responsibility lies with Flamebird here because no post afterwards took any steps to correct that misunderstanding, despite him mentioning it two more times. Consistency was also a problem. In some posts, the mushroom forest was depicted to be radiant / luminous, and in others dark and shadowy. Where I think you both agreed was the swamp-like consistency of the ground.

Your combined actual use of the setting wasn’t great, and even threadbare in parts. I think there were perhaps one or two occasions where one of you had been slammed into a mushroom or used it to right yourself, perhaps pulling yourself out of the swamp, but other than that the rest of your posts refer mostly to the forest as a whole or the mud without actually using any of it. Most of the time I had little to no idea of where either of you were in relation to either one another or the scenery and it felt like you were operating in a bit of a void.

Remember, to score well in setting, a writer must go beyond painting backdrops. Setting is not just to look at. It exists to be experienced by the characters, and through them, by the readers. I know that the both of you will likely be seething at this score, as you are far, far better than this one thread (and this commentary) would portray, but this really was a bad day at the office for both of you. I’m happy to discuss any concerns you may have with anything mentioned here.

With regards to pacing, The start of the thread was very poor and is primarily responsible for taking a chunk out of both of your scores, which prevented it from hitting a 5 – 6 score. In post two, Flamebird had entered the arena and was waiting for Rehtul to make his appearance, which he did in post three. It then took an additional FOUR posts between you for the actual battle to start. I think there was about a post’s worth of solid character development in that gap, which I’ve given credit for, but I felt that it was (probably unintentionally) too stretched out.

The thread then pressed ahead with some quick and enjoyable action. Even when the battle ended and you both transitioned to more of a story, the pace did not stagnate immediately, nor move too quickly. Where it did struggle to keep me engaged was around the post 21 – 28 mark.

I felt Rehtul did a better job with keeping his posts consistent and free of un-necessary elongation. Flamebird, I must stress that I think at times you give the reader some really quality content, but at the same time (because of the nature of your writing and your strength of persona) you tend to smother your writing in an overwhelming number of emotions. As a result, there’s quite a lot to process and it does tend to impact heavily on the flow, post to post. This was the case here, to a degree.

My advice here to both of you is to carefully consider the type of story you are telling. Avoid posts which are un-necessarily long-winded and be mindful of posting anything which adds little to the story or gives your partner very little to work with (I think to some degree this was the problem at the start). Make your posts fit the story, and try to match each scene’s mood. Remember, whether more reserved or raging quick, your posts should aim to move the story along at a sustainable and believable speed.


Character

Communication: Flamebird 7 / Rehtul 5
Action: Flamebird 5 / Rehtul 7
Persona: Flamebird 8 / Rehtul 7

Total: Flamebird 20/30 / Rehtul 19/30


Flamebird, communication and persona are areas where I thought you stood apart. You have a real grasp of Felicity’s character and how she communicates, but also understand the timing and placement required to make dialogue effective. For example, the first rule of communication is that the dialogue must be sensible and believable between characters. Her thoughts are to the point, plot relevant and are often designed to emphasize an important event. You mostly avoid falling into the trap of too much dialogue during battle, and what you do have Felicity say fits well into her persona.

Rehtul, comparatively your score isn’t bad. I must stress that there are times when your dialogue really sustains the content and the pacing of the thread, especially towards the end in posts 21-28, but the reason your score doesn’t hit the same heights is that you talk far too much. Often, this is done at times that don’t make sense.

An example of this can be taken from post three:

Quote:

---

"Hm, well... Where plants fear to tread, fungi will often take their place. They don't necessarily require direct sunlight to grow, so it comes as little surprise that they'd be able to grow easily in a subterranean environment like this one. Though that does beg the question..." Rehtul trailed of as he looked in every possible direction for a wall or roof.

---

I found myself thinking “Who is he talking to? What is the relevance of this dialogue?”. If this had been an internal monologue or general introspection, it might have not been as jarring but I would have again been asking the question as to whether the dialogue itself actually contributed to your character. You also have a bad habit of talking to yourself A LOT, mid battle. Introspection and quick, relevant thoughts often help accentuate fast paced combat. There is nothing wrong with the offhanded spoken remark either, but full lines of dialogue to yourself mid-flow really detract from the overall pacing and feel of the thread. I’m afraid it’s in this respect that Flamebird got the better of you.

My advice is this; match the amount and content of your dialogue to the situation. In a fight, you wouldn’t have time to ramble as much as if you were idle, and you’d be far more likely to think something quick than say it.

Action was one of the stronger categories, although (as previously mentioned), pacing struggled a little bit with the overall up-and-down approach to the thread.

Felicity, first things first. I love reading your fights. There were moments in the fight of real intelligence and strategy, such as the poison arrows. You take hits well, you stay creative and the fight didn’t descend into the hack and slash I so often see.

However, I do have some issues. Firstly, given the clever thinking behind your poison arrow idea, I didn’t understand why you dropped your bow at the start of the thread upon seeing Rehtul’s ice blade. The idea that it would “end the fight too quickly” seemed at odds with the next sentence that you’d “stick to what you were good at”. Surely, if the bow was your most efficient tool in this situation (as you’d implied), THAT would be the thing you were good at? Given that Felicity doesn’t know what Rehtul is capable of, it just seemed out of place.

The second thing I picked up may seem small and petty (that isn’t my intention), but I felt needed highlighting as there are implications in competitive RP which I will explain:

Quote:

---

The ice, regardless of its strength, was already melting upon the heat generated by Felicity's radiation.

---

I’m assuming here you are referring to the shard that Rehtul had thrown and had gotten stuck in your arm, but that is not explicitly stated. A point of order here; I am certain there was no intention to powergame, but please remember that your powers in PvP do have to stack up to your approved profile. As far as I can see, there’s nothing there to say that your nuclear power can melt ice of ANY strength:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Felicity Level 8 profile

If anyone gets close to it, the cloak can burn and melt hair, fur, feathers, clothing and leather; metals and woods can heat up intensely. it will cause second degree burns on flesh - and third degree burns with prolonged closeness. If anyone makes physical contact with the cloak itself, they can experience severe, painful burns, skin melting, and deterioration. This cloak lasts up until time runs out. After the cloak leaves and Berserk Mode turns off, Felicity may experience memory fog or complete loss of memory from when the power was activated.

---

My biggest issue here is the denial of an opportunity for Rehtul to either defend the melting (remember, his ice is enchanted and could be protected in some way) and / or re-use that ice in another way. Remember, you’re dealing with a school user who has control over that ice shard. He would have been within his rights to complain that he didn’t have the chance to defend the melting (he didn’t, which I am taking into consideration).

Rehtul, the same compliments I gave to Flamebird also apply to you. When you got down to it, you were intelligent, fair with your hits (given and taken) and employed a great deal of lateral thinking. I liked how Rehtul slowly deduced the nature of Felicity’s abilities, and also employed what he had learned in his prior defeat to try and become much more flexible. If I have a criticism, it boils down to the connection with communication; Rehtul talks TFM (I’ll let you figure out the abbreviation) mid battle. Not all of it was jarring, but the majority of his waffle just doesn’t fit the circumstances.

Prose

Mechanics: Flamebird 7 / Rehtul 8
Clarity: Flamebird 6 / Rehtul 5
Technique: Flamebird 6 / Rehtul 5

Total: Flamebird 19/30 / Rehtul 18/30

When it came to the mechanics of the thread, there were a few minor issues but nothing I would describe as life changing and therefore I’m not going to harp on too much here.

Felicity, your spelling was mostly spot on, save for a couple of typos. On one occasion you wrote “an” as “and” (“In and instant, she jumped from the mud.”). There were a couple of grammatical issues as well.

Rehtul, your spelling was absolutely spot on (not a foot wrong). Your grammar was slightly off in some instances, and it mostly involved sentences which needed commas. Sentence fragmentation is probably one of the most common literary issues on the site. (“"So everyone knows of my shame, then?" he asked in tones dripping with venomous intent.” – there should be a comma after the “so”.)

I’m really not going to delve too much more into this, as it was clear you’d both made an effort to spellcheck your work, and the grammatical issues were more by omission than misunderstanding. The difference in score represents the amount of errors each. Good work to the both of you.

For the most part, both of your posts made sense. I could comprehend what was going on, your sentences clearly described events and logically followed one another. Your clarity score was mostly affected by the disappointing situation with the setting, because despite knowing what was happening, I had no idea where it was happening. Out of the two of you, Flamebird was probably the most concise with what was left whereas Rehtul’s score was particularly affected here.

Technique was OK; you both have a good grasp of foreshadowing, metaphors, and allusion. I think the fluency of the writing was what separated you both. Rehtul, I felt your writing was a bit “stop-start”. You tended to use short sentences with full stops, rather than attempt to create more fluent sentences. I felt that whilst this improved your clarity, it made your writing seem a little robotic and didn’t flow as naturally or as fluently as Flamebird’s.

Wildcard

Flamebird 7 / Rehtul 7

I love a good battle, and despite what must seem as a bit of a hammering at times in the commentary above I did enjoy spending time on this thread. I enjoyed the fight between you both, and the character development afterwards. It was a long thread and clearly you'd both put your hearts into it. I hope my feedback helps to identify the areas where you can improve, but also to celebrate what you both did excellently as well.

Final scores

Flamebird: 59 / 100
Rehtul: 57 / 100

Flamebird wins!

Rewards

Flamebird receives 2,363 EXP and 320 GP!

Rehtul Orlouge receives 675 EXP and 160 GP!

All rewards added!