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[h1][color=gray]Smoldering Grace[/color][/h1][/center]

Marz found himself in a strange scene, he had found the city he had wished to become a student of since the last year's trials in a state of smoldering chaos. The fighting was over, the injured had either been taken care of or passed, the dead were being moved, the victors cried out, and the losers sulked or quietly laid in their piles, ready to be buried or burned.

Marz recounted the days as he sat down, resting after everything that happened, from the start, to the Trials. An event Marz had wished to join when Shortlisted first was being formed, yet he was passed over when the team was formed, and he had to watch. This year was different, he joined the school in earnest and had participated in the many games. From the simple Cherune game where they were to steal from each other small boxes that lead them to treasure to give themselves a leg up in the final rewards. Or the eventful race that the Dragon always provides. Yet where some of the most heated moments came from when Mano-e-Mano was lined up.

Marz sighed as he thought about the events that transpired during that time. It was no more than a week ago since the events happened, yet it felt like an eternity and it felt as if the world had set its eyes upon the event and all evil sprung from it with their own machinations. Many who looked upon the combat that kids were doing and had their own plans. Marz could not say what all of them were, yet for him, he remembered his fights and nodded as he thought about his strength, he himself knew he was strong, he was always told he was strong and he proved it, he had gained many accolades in many combat sports, yet here he had learned he was only that, strong. Then there were many truly scary people, even in the school where they were all learning together. Marz sighed as he looked to the Forked Tower where there lay pieces of rubble, ruined stone that was once said never to have been tarnished.

Marz had finally made his way back to his shop, a place that had found some reprieve, he had made sure to keep it protected before he had even thought to walk away from it. Some of the building was slightly charred, pot marked because of acid rain, and stone being chipped from the commotion. Within he felt it was still warm, reminding Marz, that no more than a few hours had passed. What to him felt like days of defending his own forge, multiple houses in which he knew that other Hegelans had lived, and then entering the Forked Tower with Cal. All these things, and not more than a few hours passed for him. Marz made his way to the forge, quietly swiping his hand as the fires ignited, burning the little bit of fuel that was there, he looked into the fire and sat upon his anvil, feeling it heat up slowly as the heat traveled through the many pipes within the forge to keep the many workstations heated.

He let the anvil heat, the pipes being able to transfer the heat well from the small fire Marz lit to the anvil that was a few feet away, it felt comforting, the heat of the forge, after the cold realization that the school has permanently changed, and all he can do is watch.