"Red, ready?"

A tall, somewhat built youth squares up. He was very light-skinned, and had medium-length, bleach blonde hair. He wore an all black martial artist's gi, with his hands bound inside red MMA gloves, with matching red chestpads and sparring headgear. His eyes narrowed, and he nodded at the referee as he stared at his opponent, who was nervously bounding on his toes.

"Blue, ready?"

As the referee called out the color for his corner, the somewhat lithe and small Egyptian boy by the name of Asif took in a meditative breath. With his eyes closed, he lowered himself down into a combative stance, with his right foot stepped just ahead of his left. His dress was a black, sleeveless gi top and white, somewhat baggy gi pants. All of his gear, corresponding with his opponent on the Red side, was colored blue. As his eyes slowly opened, he measured his larger opponent. In the stands all around the sparring mats, the friends and families of the two were all cheering on, and as Asif finally acknowledged the referee, all seemed to go silent.

"On my mark, 60 seconds. Headshots allowed. Round One - BEGIN!"

Both competitors circled, and then combat had ensued through a flurry of kicks and blows from both sides!

--

With a silver trophy in his hands, Asif began wandering the halls of the local gymnasium that had just finished hosting an international martial arts tournament. He had changed out of his martial artist's wear, and now, a black hoodie, with the hood pulled over a baseball cap on his head, and golden oriental designs along the lower half as it lead towards dark blue cargo shorts, was his attire. The boy's head hung rather low, having once again given up 1st place to Marcus O'Sullivan, the now two-time champion of the youth martial arts league from Ireland. Asif had let his parents know that he was going to stay back to help clean up. He could just walk home, as this gymnasium was only a short distance from his family's house.

Being lost in thought, he hadn't noticed how he accidentally had walked into one of the storage rooms. Finally taking note of the dim light, he'd look up and scan his surroundings. It seemed this particular room was used for old decorations from the gym's owner's home. Many old, dusty pieces of furniture and paintings were layed about. However, a peculiar panting was propped upright in the back corner. Asif set his gym bag down and placed his trophy on top of it. He was known to be very curious, and his curiosity struck him once more as he knelt infront of, and studied the painting. An old castle of some sort was all he could make of it. He couldn't tell what the plaque at the bottom read. It was scratched and tarnished beyond legibility. However, he did lean forward to try to sweep away some of the dust from the painting. Something was odd. It should have been solid. He should have touched it by now. Instead, he found himself falling through it! Falling through the painting, and then an ethereal dreamscape it seemed. He closed his eyes... And when he opened them, he would find himself laying face down, his surroundings that of an odd, grassy field he had never seen before...