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Fantasy For my Family

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Oliver's body shuddered as the electricity crashed and coursed through him. He stood for a few seconds in uncharacteristic stillness, and finally fell to his knees. He slowly fell forward, but his left arm shot downwards and caught himself. He slowly rose and shook his head groggily. Finally he looked Valk in the eye with a pleased expression on his face, smiling in a satisfied manner. "Lost conciousness there for a second. Well fought, Valk, you beat me fair and square!" His shoulders shook with laughter. "Haaahahahaha! Congradulations, you have bested me, the last and best Layfaire!" he exclaimed, and offered his left hand for Valk to shake. "I would be disappointed if you DIDN'T boast of this accomplishment!"
 
Valk held back his desire to let out a sigh of relief when the man fell slightly. It had already been five minutes, far longer than he would have liked.


"You have my thanks for a battle that actually was worth something. For once I did not need to hold back for it to last more than a few seconds."


He did not shake Layfaire's hand, but bowed his head briefly before turning around


"The tournament's in a week, make sure your nervous system is fine after that."
 
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"Ha! Worry about yourself: Once word gets out that you managed to beat ME, you'll be swamped with challengers day and night!" Oliver turned towards the main house, starting to walk towards his room. "Until next time, Valk!" he shouted over his shoulder as he went.


When Oliver reached his quarters he removed the leather-and-steel armor that he wore on his arms. He sat cross-legged on the ground and began meditating, focusing his mana and sending it coursing through his body, repairing any damage he had sustained. He would remain at this for several minutes.
 
Valk let out a sigh as the man walked away. That could have been dangerous. He looked back down at his hand, blood was now starting to leak out of the ceremonial wraps that enclosed his palm.


"Better get this looked at."


He left to have his hand healed through mana therapy . . . his mother was excellent at it.


----------------------------


(one week later)


Jaeger took a deep breath in from on top of the massive creature. He was standing atop something akin to an elephant, though it was much larger and had a much tougher hide. In front of him lay an absolutely massive estate, made mostly out of a stone exterior.


"There it is Jaeger, the coliseum. From here other families will see our glory first hand."


Jaeger looked up at the middle-aged man beside him, turning his head to see other columns of men moving towards the estate in the distance


"Yes Father. I look forward to testing my skills."
 
Rudd's horse snorted beneath him. "I know, boy. It doesn't make sense to me either." He got a couple of odd looks from his brothers and sisters. Perhaps talking to the animals was a country thing? It didn't much matter to him. All he could think about was the prospect of this tournament. Three months of infighting, while the Fell Ones do what, wait patiently for the families to stop comparing prize cows and start a good, fair war? Surely this petty disagreement over status was nothing next to the threat of demons at the border. But, then again, he was just a country boy. What did he know about nobles or armies? He let out a long sigh, which his horse echoed in melancholy agreement.


Beneath all of his ruminating, Rudd was in fact excited. He hadn't had much of a chance to test his skills against the other mana risers over the last year. His teachers had assured him that he was powerful, but looking at the skill of his peers, he was never quite able to believe them. Maybe this tournament would give him a chance to prove to himself what everyone had been telling him this whole time.


He only hoped it was worth the risk of abandoning the patrols.


---


The others were always so slow. How were any of them willing to wait so long to get to the arena? Odom watched, hanging by his knees from a tower window, as the other families marched upside-down across the grassy sky, above a bright blue road paved with wispy clouds.


This was Odom's very favorite time of the year. Fell Ones were good practice and all, but there was something special about fighting another thinking, emoting human being in single combat. So many new strategies to try, so many new odds to face, and all of those completely baffled faces . . . oh, how he enjoyed those faces. He remembered with a chuckle his escapade two years ago, when the entire eastern crowd abandoned their seats to avoid a massive flock of geese diving into the arena at terminal velocity. Amazing what one could do with a few well-placed stones. He hadn't won that match, but it hardly mattered. The bewildered cries made the match as much his victory as his opponent's.


Honestly, Odom didn't care about the status that the winning family gained. In the end, each family would go back to their own homes and defend their own lands. The trophies, the speeches--just for show. But the vivacious glory of fighting in one's true element? That was very, very real, and Odom could hardly contain his excitement.


His thoughts were interrupted by the bird that whizzed by his face. Irritated by the interruption, he decided to have a few words with it.


By jumping off the window and riding by its feet.


Just another breezy day for Odd Odom.
 
Valk sat cross-legged on top of his steed, his arms crossed as he looked through the archway. The column of the Trevastos family was making its way into the neutral grounds, as they were called. He honestly cared little for the standing of his family gained in this competition. What he wanted were opponents, STRONG opponents. Ones that could force him to his limits. The Trevastos held one of the two largest estates in this sprawling metropolis of an area, and they were headed straight for it.


---------------------


Aatron gazed at the small figure in his hand, a small smile on his face. What was in his hand was a small wooden carving, made in the image of a wolf's head. Faora had carved it herself and given it to him before he left. His birthday had been six days ago, which was why she wanted to meet with him. Though she was not joining them on this trip, he felt as though she was with him through it. He let his face fall into its normal stoic expression as he pocketed the trinket
 
Oliver wiped the sweat from his brow as he finally reached the neutral grounds. He smiled slightly as he adjusted his backpack that contained all of his gear (including his gauntlets) and continued over to the Trevastos area. Finally, he was arriving after days of hiking.


-----


Ryrax, meanwhile, was flying through the sky, just below the clouds. Telekinesis had many benefits, and flight was one of them. He scanned the land below him as he flew above Rudd's head. He couldn't really place why he was drawn to the country hick, but ever since their chance meeting in the woods they had an odd sort of relationship. It was difficult to explain, but then again, their meeting was rather...unique. Ryrax smiled at the memory, but mostly because his meal that night had been especially delicious.


He rapidly descended so that he pulled up next to Rudd, floating on his back with his arms acting as a pillow for his head. He was level with the horse's head as they travelled. "Are we there yet? I'm eager to crack some skulls," he said up to Rudd with his trademark grin.
 
Rudd was hardly surprised to see the grinning menace. He had a habit of floating by when he was least expected--or, by now, exactly when Rudd was expecting him. "You'll have to deal with my leftovers," he grinned back. "After all, the old man can't stop telling me what a marvel I am. Surely I'll just toss the competition aside so we can get back to fighting the usual freaks." He winked chidingly at the blond ruffian. Somehow, despite his chaotic and often violent demeanor, Rudd had taken a liking to Ryrax. What surprised him even more was that Ryrax had seemed to take a liking to him, a phenomenon entirely unheard of within the family. Then again, most people didn't know what Rudd knew about the man. Perhaps that was where the mutual respect came from. Having gotten past the cretin's aggressive exterior, Rudd realized that he wasn't all that bad of a guy. Of course, he'd never say that out loud.
 
"HA! Works for me. You and I both know I'd rather be fighting Fell Ones. I saw some of our competition while I was in the sky, I doubt they'll make me break a sweat." He gave a gigantic yawn and groaned. "Let's get this fiasco over with, I have better things to do than butt heads with egotistical idiots."


-----


Oliver strode through the camp, greeting everyone he met enthusiastically. Finally he arrived at his estate, and unpacked his things. Inwardly, he was extremely excited: he could hardly wait to bring honor to the Layfaire name via glorious combat!
 
Rudd tried to pick his jaw up off of the floor, but it was nowhere to be found amongst the massive city-scape called The Neutral Ground. All he could do was gape as they emerged from the archway into the grand collection of structures. Never before had he seen such a spectacle. Momma back home was never going to believe this.


-----


"Beautiful, isn't it?"


Odom, having finished his dialogue with the little wren (which was quite witty), fell from the sky to land on the rump of Aatron's steed, much to its annoyance. "Too bad she was born a Mavaret; the world could really use some good artists. The flowers try, but no one seems to appreciate them anymore." He slumped over with a sad expression, resting his chin on Aatron's indignant shoulder.
 
Reaching the Tournament Grounds, Jyttera flashed back to the conversation that had led him here.


Two rather singed men made their way through the halls of House Astora, one looking particularly agitated. Reaching the house gathering room, Jyttera slammed his way through the door. "I've told everyone who needs to when and where i am when im working. There is no reason why" he pauses to catch his breath, the previous words all said in one go, "ANYONE SHOULD HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR ME!"


a long silence passed through the room, the singed messenger looking slightly frightened. His first day as a member of House Astora, and he had already been blown up, and now it looked like he might have caused a fight to break out amongst the elder members.


another, longer silence passed, and, in complete synchronicity, everyone began laughing, except for the poor, confused messenger. Seeing his confusion, Jyttera tells him, "Boy, you might think I'm some kind of fancy, scholarly mage with what you saw, before it blew up at least, but, " another round of laughter fills the room, "I'm a pretty shit mage, it was probably going to blow up anyway!"


With a wide smile on his face, Jyttera pulled out a map, and checked to make sure he was in the correct place. Re-affirming his location, he set the rather bulky pack on the ground. From it, he pulled a series of rather spindly metal pieces. Quickly, he assembled a pair of hominid metal skeletons, and pulled something else from the bag. It was a somewhat small chest, about a foot long, and half that in height and width. The smooth, hinge and seam-less features of the box would've had any prospective theif floundering. Sliding his hand across what was presumably the front of it, he subtly, for him at least, pulled on the 'souls' just under the surface of the chest, and the 'top' face of the lid popped up. Setting it down, and pulling off the lid, he reached in, and pulled out what appeared to be rather ornate gyroscopes, glowing with a cold blackness. Taking the pair, he slowly, gently, moved them over to the metal frames, and set one in each. Stepping back, he began to quickly mark out an area with sticks and some string, as the two frames rose, animated to do a single task.


Having marked out a suitable area, he set back on a log, and watched as the two rather frail looking golems began felling trees, removing stumps, and even cutting blocks of stone. Satisfied that the golems were working fine, he marked a few notes in a journal, and set to his own task. Having situated himself away from the majority of the Family residences, he, and what would soon be the House Astora Tournament Chalet, would be rather exposed to bandits and Fell ones, albeit rather idiotic examples of both. There was also the danger of a foreign Family disapproving of his own, and attempting to remove them in secret. So, Jyttera did something that would've made many, many people question his sanity. Building a small circle of stones from the pile rubble near the newly cut stone, he pulled a spare sword from the sack that had held the golem frames and the chest and stabbed it into the ground in the center of the stone circle. Producing one of the 'Souls' from his collection, he bent a knee, and set it where the sword met ground. Standing, he double checked to ensure he hadn't forgotten anything, and the turned all of his focus on the 'soul' at the base of the construction. After nearly half an hour of intense concentration, the 'soul' burst into flame, a deeper red than normal fire. And, unlike normal fire, despite no apparent fuel, the flame burned bright. Sitting heavily back down on the nearby log, he wiped the sweat from his brow, and as he gazed at the flames, he rested. (The fire is burning the energy from the 'soul'. It will eventually die, but there is a lot of energy in the 'soul' to be used. meanwhile, the surrounding area is filled with a mixture of the 'soul's energy, and Jyttera's. Most who are not familiar with Jyttera, or his energy, find the 'feel' of the resulting ambient mana to be weird, wrong, or downright uncomfortable. Most Fell ones can feel the energy of a fellow demon's death, and stay far away.)
 
Aatron's expression changed from one of serenity to irritation the instant Odom started speaking


"I find it rather fortunate she was born in the Maveret family Odom, three of the other families are brutes I wouldn't want anywhere near her."


He looked up at the sky as the family moved to their residency, starting to unload materials and dismount


"Besides . . . much as one may try to appreciate beauty, that doesn't change the fact that we're in an ugly world."


He said nothing else as he dismounted and walked into the temporary estate, his eyes clearly showed his mind was somewhere else.


----------------------------


Valk was already set up in one of the largest rooms of the Travestos estate, came with being an heir of the main family. However, after setting up the barest of essentials he left. This was his fifth year at the tournament, and he always left to check the rings before anything else.
 
Ryrax floated lazily next to Rudd until he caught the scent. He bolted upright, sniffed the air a few times, and shot off into the sky with a furrowed brow. This scent was that of a dead Fell One, yet...it seemed both fresh and stale at the same time. How could that be?


He flew through the sky as he honed in on the contradictory smell, and eventually caught sight of what appeared to be an estate under construction. "What the hell..." he muttered before diving down to where the scent was strongest, landing with a crash in front of a man who sat near a flaming sword that was stuck in the ground. The smoke billowing from the flames of the burning sword seemed to be the source of the Fell One scent, yet there was no corpse to be seen.


He rose from the kneeling stature he had acquired when he landed with such velocity, but remained in a slightly bent posture, like a hunting beast on edge, searching for its prey and ready to attack at a moment's notice. He glared over to the man who was sitting on the ground nearby. "Who the hell are you?" he said with a slight growl to his voice.


-----


Oliver, after unloading his things and giving a general scan of his room, strode out to check the rings. Imagine his surprise, then, when he saw...


"Ah, Valk!" he hailed with a wave of his bandaged right arm, "Scoping out the rings as well? Well, I shouldn't be surprised: after all, would the man who bested me, the last and best Layfaire, do anything less than prepare for battle in every possible facet? Of course he wouldn't! So, are you excited for the chance to display your might in the ring of honor and glory?" he asked, with an exceedingly smug smile.
 
Odom frowned as Aatron walked away. He looked down to find a small white flower between his feet, struggling to grow between the stones set there for so many years. He hunkered down and smelled it.


"Don't worry. I still think you're beautiful."


He picked up the flower and stuck it in his hair before picking a random direction to wander in. His feet began to take him to the arena. Were those sparks he saw? He thought they probably were. His lips cocked in a sly grin.


-----


Rudd wasn't sure what to make of his new abode. While he was sure that the rest of his new family would have found it to be very run-of-the-mill, he was rather impressed by the three-month lodgings. He had just assumed that he would be living out of a tent for a while. It would have suited him just fine; in fact, all of the fancy bamboo rooms and endless expenditures on comfort made him, ironically, rather uncomfortable. He was far more used to the simplicity of a spartan farm living.


Then again, he wasn't going to complain with a soft mattress and a ring of feather pillows. Perhaps he could get used to this status thing after all.
 
Sitting in front of his fire, Jyttera eventually drifted to the land of sleep, as he had made all haste in order to arrive this early. So, when an angry figure dropped from the sky like the fist of a war god, his response was thus. "ZZZ zzz ZZZ zzz... Hnngh..."


Suddenly, he shot upright, feet planted firmly in a defensive stance, and weapon drawn in a flash. He proudly declared to all who would hear, "My name is Jyttera, Founder of House Astora, and I," pausing dramatically, he ends with, "am NOT a cleric." His head, finally rising from his chest, where it had been resting throughout all this, revealed to any who would care, closed eyes and a relaxed face. Jyttera was still asleep, and was, perhaps, acting out a particularly vivid dream.
 
Valk let out a mild snort of annoyance


"It's calming. Between all the turmoil and destruction, it's rather ironic that these things are one of the few that remain unchanged each year."


He turned around and started to head back, sparks crackling along his arms


"My hope is that I will meet opponents that are a true test of skill, battles that actually teach me something."


He was quiet for about a minute


" . . . battles like yours."


He didn't stay for the proud man to boast on his backhanded compliment
 
Ryrax's eyelid twitched irritably as the man remained relatively asleep. However, he was more curious about the Fell One scent and burning sword to pay as much attention to Jyttera of Astora. He slowly approached the sword and reached a hand out to grab it, but pulled it back quickly because of the flames. He growled irritably before placing his hand on his sword and doing a draw-slash through the sword. Oddly, no physical harm seemed to have befell the blade...until Ryrax sheathed his blade with a *clink*, at which point ice blossomed from the point of contact, both up and down along the weapon. In moments the fire had been extinguished as the sword now stood encased in an ice crystal formation the size of an average human. Immediately Ryrax could tell that the scent was dispersing: whatever was its origin was now most likely encased in the ice.


-----


Oliver merely smiled wider at Valk's remark. Instead of retorting he decided to step into the ring, where he would remain for quite some time as he engaged in shadowboxing.
 
Odom was surprised to find himself lying on his back. That didn't usually happen when he walked around corners. Then again, there weren't usually hasty white-haired men walking around any of the corners he frequented. He looked up to find another pair of angry eyes attached to the horizontal youth. Why were everyone's eyes angry lately? Being angry was never any fun.
 
Jyttera's eyes blinked open, having been shocked awake by the sudden end to the comforting heat of the flames, and the quickly dissipating presence of 'soul' energy permeating area. Quickly assessing the situation, he finds himself ready to defend himself, and while shocking, wasn't enough to throw him off his stride. Eventually, he notices the rather odd individual standing in a shallow crater. Eyes narrowing in paranoia and suspicion, he asks firmly, "Who are you, and what have you done to my fire?"
 
Ryrax merely turned with a wild grin to face Jyttera. "Ah, so that DID wake you up, eh? I froze it, isn't it obvious? By the way, why the hell did those flames carry the scent of a Fell One?"


He paused and sniffed the air a few times, his grin falling. He narrowed his uncovered eye as he took a few steps closer to Jyttera, sniffing intently. "...Hmm...odd...why do YOU reek strongly of Fell One? Who exactly are you?"
 
Valk stumbled back a single step, and his eyes immediately fell on the man in eccentric garb lying on his back. Friend or foe? He immediately locked on a symbol of the Maveret family on his boots. Enemy


"Out of my way."


Valk walked by the man without offering a hand or even giving another word


-----------------------


Jaeger jumped down from the elephant-like creature, landing with a dull *thud* as he connected with the ground.


"Come on Valera, its safe!"


"Um . . . It's a long way down . . ."


Jaeger let out a sigh as he looked up at his sister


"I'll catch you! Go ahead and jump!"


The red haired woman pulled her legs over before dropping down, where Jaeger caught her as if she weighed nothing. He shifted his arms slightly before he started to walk


"Valera . . . have you been skipping on meals again?"


"JAEGER!"


Jaeger found himself slapped once before he started laughing and jogged away from his sibling
 
The white haired man looked surprised to see Odom walking next to him. Whether it was because he hadn't seen Odom get up or because he was walking horizontally along the wall was difficult to say. "Which way is your way, then? I've no particular way, so I suppose it isn't odd that I found myself in yours."
 
Firm in his stance, he replies, "I have already stated who I am, a courtesy you have yet to reciprocate. Regardless, a better question would be why you would be compelled to just come up to a person's fire and extinguish it?" Moving not an inch, he pondered upon the coming reaction. Jyttera knew that there were some families who would like nothing more than to... erase the House Astora, in which case, he had to be ready to fight, and end it before anyone else noticed.
 
Unbelievable. Valk had known this man for only scant moments, and yet he was already more annoying than Layfaire had ever been. He grit his teeth and looked forward, picking up his pace slightly


"Listen, whoever you are, you have five seconds to leave me in peace or I'll start cracking skulls BEFORE the tournament is underway. Kapish?"


Sparks crackled along his arms as he emphasized the last word
 
Tournament.


Odom loved that word. It excited him.


"So very angry. But then again, why not? I did so enjoy watching you dance with the geese last time. I think they may have even enjoyed it, were you less, erm, electrifying."
 

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