[center][color=007FFF][h3]Indigo Afina – Ashen Purgatory[/h3][/color]
[@hatakekuro][/center]

Every Indigo stood her ground when ashes began to pour from Nolan's overheating body as if he'd been submersed in a vat of ink.  Confident in her own heat to overpower whatever ambient embers her opponent could muster, Indigo remained still but ready for attack.  His words, however, disturbed her.  What kind of suffering did he mean?  And what terrible thing had he undergone to gain what, at least in his eyes, amounted to such torment as to render him dead to compassion?

The sweat of ashes became a cloud, noxious and choking.  Surprise took hold of Indigo when she realized that where she'd been comfortably warm only moments before, she now felt cold and somehow, feeble.  The idea that these ashes could block the searing heat and radiant light of [i]Seven Days to Die[/i] turned out to be only the beginning of her dread.  She could feel some of her clones beginning to succumb already, not all of them thinking to use their sleeves as filters.  At that moment, the sorceress decided to banish them all.  In quick succession each one faded away into their books, which then teleported back into their suitcase in the Frenzy Camp, ready to be requipped.  At the moment, however, other thoughts occupied Indigo's mind.  When the first whispers came to her, she froze.  As they increased in volume and her breath grew short, panic began overwhelm her.  Were these truly the spirits of the tormented dead?  What did she do to deserve this?!  Frenzy Plant destroyed and killed at times, but never civilians or children, and among the soldiers Indigo in particular hated robbing someone of their life, even if they deserved it.  Growing desperate, Indigo dropped onto her knees, torn between trying to breath and deal with the horrifying spirits all at once.  The voices haunted her soul, clawing at it with grieving nails, and by in only a few moments it seemed as if Frenzy Plant's most proficient mage would unceremoniously pass out...if not for an idea.

An idea popped into Indigo's head.  [i]This isn't real,[/i] it said.  [i]It is an illusion conjured by Nolan to trick you into defeating yourself.[/i]  Indigo's eyes widened, her terror converted into disbelief.  Adrenaline kicked in, picking up some of the slack that her dwindling oxygen left behind.  [i]Was I really going to fall for it?  All this for a lacrima![/i]  A voice permeated the darkness.  [color=007fff]”You must think that I am stupid.  My wit will blow you away.”[/color]  Into her hand came [i]The Yawg[/i], her first and most often used book.  In the inky blackness it fell open, its pages fluttering in a sudden, rising wind.  Through the quiet void came a howling wind, growing exponentially in speed and intensity, and against it Nolan's Black Dharma could not stay together.  When the ashes blew away, the voices plaguing it faded too, leaving a still-hot swordsman and Indigo, who now hovered a few inches off the ground.  With closed eyes, spread arms, and long blonde hair flowing in the wind, the S-rank wizard shouted, [color=007fff]“Gathering Gale!”[/color]

Across the entire arena, the wind picked up, chilling the air, spattering rain, and ruffling clothing.  Overhead, the sun had vanished, leaving behind voluminous gray clouds.  Its eddies coalesced into a chaotic typhoon swirling around Indigo's position that violently repelled dust, leaves, and anything else too close.  With long, momentous motions, she reached in front of her, grabbed both sides of the floating book, and yanked it open so far that its spine threatened to break.  There was a sound like an explosion, and from the pages of [i]The Yawg[/i] thundered a wet, electric cyclone to blast one of Phoenix Wing's best swordsmen halfway across the city, hopefully loosening one or more lacrima in the process.  Nothing was held back; by aiming for her spirit and nearly succeeding in puncturing it, Nolan had deemed himself worthy of her full might.

[center][h3][color=FF6347]Owen Whately – Frenzy Camp[/color][/h3]
[@oblivion666][@raijinslayer][@caits][@liferusher][/center]

All eyes were on Ike when he descended slowly, the tumult of negative energy raging around him suddenly diminishing.  The only interruptions of the Camp's newfound silence were the dying wheezes of the rogue soldier's blind hatred, followed by the faint swish of grass beneath his feet when they touched the ground again.  Unclouded by malevolence, Ike's body appeared as if it suffered greatly, and the sights of his thinner body and whitened hair spurred the surrounding soldiers to loosen their grips on their weapons.  They moved out of the way, cautious but quiet, when he strode to the perimeter's edge and beyond.  Several hastened to bring their weapons into firing position when Ike bent over Isla, but Owen waved his hand, sensing the change in Ike's spirit.  Every eye beheld him carry Isla to the center of the circle and seat himself in a universally-known position of surrender.  

The soldiers, not sure what to make of this, turned to Owen and Jane in the ensuing silence.  Even the former piratess looked bemused; she'd been convinced that Ike would be implacable in his wrath.  Owen, however, smiled.  He brought his rapier around, pointing it at Ike, then quickly and expertly replaced it in the mouth of the lion embellished on his shield.  This he reattached to his belt as he walked forward, and offered Ike a hand.  [color=FF6347]”Glad to have ya back, partner.”[/color]

A few minutes later, most everyone sat on the stools left around the now-empty cooking pot in the Frenzy Camp's center.  Joakim, and Leixia had departed to Tsubano's tent to relieve her of some bandages and antiseptics, while the sleeping Isla had been confined to the detention tent, but the rest waited, their weapons laid aside.  Owen leaned over Argus, saying, [color=FF6347]”Yer in a bad shape fer the stunt ya pulled yesterday.  Embarrassed the whole guild.  I'm don't expect that the General will kick ya outta the guild, though.  Jus' make sure ya don't cause any more ruckus before it comes time fer yer judgment.”[/color]  He stood up, navigated the circle, and sat.  After producing a fresh wheat stalk from his jerkin and placing it between his teeth, he gestured with an open hand toward Ike.  [color=FF6347]”Don't worry too much 'bout punishment.  Dependin' on what comes next, we might be able to getcha off sayin' it was a psycho-logical effect o' Isla's curse.  I know you've got a lotta hurt in ya.  So I'm askin' ya to let it out.  Tell all of us what happened.  We'll listen.”[/color]  Owen leaned back, trying to look encouraging.  He looked around at Chester, Gabriel, Jane, and Argus, hoping that they'd do the same.