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darkredWith his ultimatum issued, Cyril need only stare at his opponent, plainfaced, until she made her decision. It didn't seem possible that this situation could go any other way. Oren's words puzzled him -after all, he certainly wouldn't describe himself as a hero, and if this woman wouldn't give up her soul voluntarily after hearing his wish, she wasn't either- but to be frank he didn't care enough to challenge him. Those that talked a lot, he knew, craved an audience. By ignoring the announcer he would render his irritating speech useless. All that remained, then, was the question: how could he make this morning, with its golden rays poking through last night's clouds and the rain pooled in the ditches, a stepping stone toward his goal?
Juniper put off the decision, however, and her words made the vanguard's lip curl. “Gleeful? Forgive me, but are you simple? What about me says 'gleeful'? I don't even enjoy cutting down those who deserve it. Anyway, the announcer said 'hero', not me. Fighting evil doesn't make someone good...” Though such a statement could have just as easily been issued by a self-assured vigilante, Cyril's low, morose tone spoke more of self-depreciation than anything.
Her next question made him want to sigh and roll his eyes, but he didn't want to be rude. Instead, he averted his gaze, and replied, “What? I don't need to...debate philosophy with you.” He paused, gears turning in his head. Despite his dismissive declaration, he felt oddly nagged by the impulse to justify himself. Why? If he admitted to himself he wasn't a hero, he didn't need justification. The reasons behind his wish should have been self-evident. He wasn't deluded, or insane, or anything. Just a man sick of suffering who finally saw a way to end it. In his head, he didn't even want to do it to be seen as a hero, but just to bring peace. His only personal gain would be a life of safety, without worry. It made perfect sense.
Another moment slid by before the knight spoke again. “I'm not some wide-eyed idealist or justicular. There's no point. I don't know where you come from, but the place I'm from is a world of monsters, demons, and men who can be worse than any of 'em. It's a fight for survival. People fight every day for reasons they don't understand, for causes they don't believe in. But here...in this Crucible, I've found a way that just might be able to end all that. So a few lives, my life, my soul...it'd all be worth it, even if it's the smallest chance.” The words hardened his tremulous heart, helping to calm his troubled mind and build the confidence he needed to do this. “I'm nobody,” he said, more firmly. “So even if I'd be happier if I didn't, it doesn't matter if I die, or have to kill. It's a small sacrifice for something that would bring so much real good. I've finally found what I was looking for: a fight I believe in.”
He took a quick, deep breath and stepped back. “So what are you so high and mighty about? Huh? What do you believe in, looking down on my wish?” His dull eyes harbored a certain spark. “Revenge on those who hurt you? A new arm? Doesn't matter. In the end, you're just like me, wishing for something. One of us is getting the other's soul, so might as well forget the chitchat and see who's wish is stronger. Last chance to surrender, miss.” He released the shaft of his glaive with his left hand and held it in a fist across his chest, a gesture of his army's that signified both respect and acknowledgment of an imminent fight.
A dark chuckle, amped up in volume, emanated from the phylactery on which Saria had a strangehold. “Yeah, I'm sure. I've brushed off scarier things than you today, but whatever, request's a request. Your opponent is on the shore, not far, hiding in a big bunch of plant's he's summoned. I'm sure ya can see it from there.”
Not wanting to have his eardrums further stimulated, Oren cut the line after that. His drone, also in the general area, would automatically capture events preceding the fight between the Blood Devil and the Fungal Knight. When the time came to get the party started, he'd flick the switch that would connect him and officiate the match's beginning, though at this point he did not at all expect the frenzied Saria to wait for him. He exhaled deeply, which turned into a shudder as he remembered the malformed abominations that Saria discovered on the shipwreck. Man, first the giant bird, now this...these echoes have some flippin' crazy stuff. Maybe I oughta start a report to the College, titled, 'Like Everyone Who Messes With Stuff We Don't Understand, We Bit Off More Than We Could Chew and Might be Screwed'. Snickering he said aloud, “It's a work in progress.”
Sophia's paranoia proved unfounded as her trek into the narrow ravine turned up no ambush whatsoever. In fact, this entire area had been far enough away from the events of last night as to avoid fire damage completely, and this local in particular stood out as quite the peaceful, picturesque little spot. Several different varieties of tree stood on the crevice's edges, their roots snaking in and out of the dirt bent like old fingers, and amongst them poked out the elegant heads of lavender wildflowers. It would have been more scenic still had there not been a supply cache stuck in the ravine's far end, wedged between the walls. With the fuel contained within, the good sister could easily ascend to the clouds and fulfill Oren's request before seeking out her new opponent. The announcers drone, meanwhile, hovered nearby in autopilot. Mindless, it had followed Sophia during her trip, ready to be picked up and lofted skyward when she was ready to accomplish her task. Evidently, Oren did not concern himself with the two contestants' conversation.
That said, he did keep his end of the bargain. The very same drone held an item box, and within awaited the treasure that was both Sophia's reward and her impetus toward greater service for the College.
You also got:
28. Egg
It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all
Messily consumes a loved one of the owner to grant the owner's one wish
28. Egg
It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all
Messily consumes a loved one of the owner to grant the owner's one wish
While the sculptures in the art gallery's entrance hall alone were many, the artifact in question wasn't exactly hidden. A golden shape lay in the lap of a man reclined against a pillar behind the main reception desk, who held his head in his hands as though bemoaning the object upon him. Though sporting an odd design, the item Mountain had been sent to retrieve was clearly an arrow of expensive make. However, Mountain did not get the chance to stare at it for long.
Something small and dark moved behind the reception desk, and the next moment, something happened. The mechanism for it happening was impossible to discern, but with extreme abruptness and speed, the art gallery receded. The entire building sped backward -or so it appeared to the museum's visitor- at a rapid pace, only slowing down when it reached about a half mile away. A quick look around would determine that the landscape had changed. To either side, the plaza had appeared to expand lengthwise, putting a large amount of distance between Mountain and the gallery's inside. The ground itself appeared to have stretched, and the patterns on the buildings duplicated over and over again to fill the new space. Inexplicably, the plaza was now twice as long as it had been, with the building a good distance away. Having been at the top of the stairs, right at the door, when space extended, it appeared that Mountain was still on that same ground, but the exact portion of ground just ahead of him had been lengthened to put him at a safe distance from whatever had caused this. This must have been what Oren meant when he said his drones were 'sent back', and it didn't take a below-average mind to be confused by it.
Having scrutinized the activities of the courageous captain and his Ottoman accomplice for some time, albeit idly, Oren responded to Runch's request with a greater-than-usual swiftness. Perhaps in anticipation of what everything indicated would be an imminent battle, the announcer obliged his caller with very little prevarication, and in a tone that echoed some of Runch's excitement. “Comin' right up. Let's see what our mutual friend's up to.” A series of mouse clicks later, the bespectacled bamboozler succeeded in making the connection, and for the second time yet spoke to the enigmatic vampire and his vulpine acquaintance.
“Heyheyhey there, Crue! I know ya've been havin' fun with Fluffer Number Two there for a while now, but a certain someone's dyin' to get down to business. Say hello to your next opponent!”
After that Oren kept quiet to allow Runch to make his own introduction, and with no small amount of fascination he watched him ascend to the heavens afterward, buoyed up by a towering Babel of whole wheat. For a time, his mouth hung just a little bit open, though his eyes remained as squinted as ever. Only when the pirate reached Terra Firma did he find his tongue. “Whoa. If I ever need new glasses, I know where to look, 'cause that was quite the spectacle. Betcha won't have any trouble getting' your Round 2 started. Good luck, cap'n!”