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The Sol’s voice continued in its harmonious tone as she spoke to the young Fotian and gently lifted the bandage from her face, causing a small amount of discomfort for the Tyro, but still better than it had been days prior. Czigani caught the subtle stench from the toxins that permeated from not only the large gash, but the surrounding pores of her skin. Her nose wrinkled up momentarily from the smell before relaxing once again, even as the rest of her body began to loosen, the muscles and strain slowly subsiding from the heat of the bath and the introduction of whatever magicks Solari poured into it moments later. [i]Toxins.[/i] [i]Comfort.[/i], Czi was only catching fragments of the healers words, her voice was quite therapeutic, barely allowing room for any doubt that what the Tyro was doing was the right choice, leaving herself vulnerable and in the care of a stranger so very far from her home. And at that moment, the foreign scents that surrounded her, the ambience of rushing water cascading from the fountain, and the subtle rustling of the trees outside the window all began to fade as the Fotian fell into a deep, and much needed, slumber.

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[i]“You will die a most horrible death, Czigani Veraniath of house Hanoxx!” 

The low guttural voice echoed loudly in her ears, even amongst the roaring spectators who surrounded the gladiatorial arena within the central courtyard of Castle Fotia. With a fresh wound across her face, and the excruciating pain that followed, she screamed from the sting of what felt like a thousand cuts to her skin all at once. Glancing around, Czigani could only see flashes of light and the blurred silhouettes of bystanders as well as her opponent, who loomed over her fallen body like a dark cloud of destruction, beaded sweat from his drenched brow incessantly dripping onto the young female’s bruised and battered face. With little strength left in her arms, she attempted to push her body up from the bloodied sand that covered the arena, but the other only pushed her down once again with his foot against her back, laughing hysterically and mocking the King's niece.

“Is this who you pathetic royals look up to?” His bassey voice carried throughout the courtyard, echoing off every pillar and statue along the perimeter. “She is nothing!” Her opponents booming laughter carried on a moment longer before he turned his full attention back to her broken body, positioning his blade against her exposed neck. “I'm going to enjoy this more than you could ever imagine, bitch.” 

But the Fotian royal’s resolve was strong enough -even in her weakened state- to muster the strength to end the other's mocking laughter and venomous rhetoric. With her blade in hand, the pointy end found its mark as she drove the rest of her rapier up under his chin and through his skull, watching as her opponent's expression of shock was frozen, and words were lost in blood and sliced arteries.

It was a face she’d never forget...[/i]