Chapter 1982

Chapter 1982

Tatiana made no public announcement about the run-off tournament; she planned to make a press release only when the final participant in the challenge was determined. The administration of the event would be easier that way. She simply accompanied the four to a deserted island and observed the process, without any others trying to follow and get in the way of the fighting. Randidly didn’t even come, occupied as he was by arranging a training regimen for Charlotte.

An added benefit was that all Tatiana needed to do in Randidly’s absence was protect herself.

The matches shook out to be Allowaen v. Kayle and Illdan v. Wolfram. After a brutal fight that destroyed half the island, Kayle smashed Allowaen into the sea and she didn’t resurface for quite a long time. Kayle hovered there for a minute, simply staring down into the sea, his gaze slowly returning from the cloudy intoxication of violence to awareness.

In terms of commitment to winning, the chimeric woman didn’t stand a chance. Tatiana privately believed that feeling like he missed out and now suddenly being granted a second chance had put Kayle’s intensity on overdrive.

“You alright?” Tatiana had asked. Kayle nodded without speaking, his face pale.

The second match destroyed the remaining portion of the island, making Tatiana glad she had brought a Scrawled barge to use as a viewing platform. The stone foundations shattered and sunk into the sea, leaving Illdan tiptoeing across waves to try and close the distance to the Skill-slinging Wolfram. The ocean churned around the two fighters, wild with the fury of so many Skills being thrown in a small space

Tatiana felt genuinely impressed; in just a week and a half, the ogre man had deeply refined his methods. She wondered how he had managed to push up the Rarities of so many of his Skills in such a short time. But it was also obvious that the power of these attacks relied on the combination and his base Stats-- he had acquired better Skills but hadn’t had the chance to Level them.

Considering the situation, it was impressive enough that Wolfram had rebounded so quickly and thrown himself into the training.

In the end, Illdan lanced a spear through the ogre’s left lung. After a horribly wet exhale, Wolfram conceded. The young man from Tellussucked in a deep breath and trumpeted his victory like a gleeful elephant. Ripples spread out from him, across the surface of the ocean.

Tatiana shook her head, almost disappointed in the island for failing to withstand the pressure. The group moved to a different small piece of land to the South. It was all jagged rock, without any sand or plant life. The final match of the runoff tournament began.

For three minutes, their exchanges were brutally fast and left the island deeply scarred. Their movements whittled away at the rough stone outcroppings, quickly smoothing out their footing. They seemed to split into phantasms, fighting several battles with each other at once. Both possessed overwhelming penetrative power and almost predictive Agility. Yet at some point, Tatiana saw Kayle’s resolve begin to wane. The vindictive jealousy he used to crush Allowaen seemed to run dry. He continued to strike with exacting precision, forcing Illdan to address deep issues in his fighting style or take deep wounds. But it became a different sort of match entirely.

Kayle’s graceful movements became more instructive than dangerous. Lost in his desperation to survive, Illdan didn’t even appear to notice.

It ended up being exceptionally long. It took an hour to settle the final match. Tatiana eventually announced the end, when Kayle prepared to stand after taking a near blow to his neck. “Alright, I think that’s enough. Illdan, you’ve won; return to Tournament Island and make your preparations. Kayle, come with me. We should speak.”

Illdan swayed for a second, his eyes still revealing him to be in a battle trance. Then he blinked back to wakefulness and looked around, bewildered by the sudden development. He still gripped his spear, unsure if this was a trick. Kayle pressed his lips together and hopped onto the barge without comment. The slow transport rose and drifted away, leaving Illdan to find his own way back.

Once they were in the sky, Kayle sighed. His silky black hair fell down around his face, masking his expression. His long limbs were covered in small cuts; he had ever so delicately danced around Illdan’s attacks for an hour, with only that last serious wound on his neck to show for it. And even Tatiana had noticed several moments where he lacked the aggression to strike when he had an opening.

“Perhaps going through them one by one will be helpful,” Azriel gave him a similarly pointed look. Both pushed their bowls out of the way and regarded each other. “Tell me about your World Tree image.”

“Is this-” Randidly began, but then he remembered that he was dealing with Azriel, who did not take half measures or show much give when she had decided on a course of action. He clicked his tongue once then decided to at least go along with her for now. “Fine. An image first given to me by the Sister Village of Donnyton, Kith Klark, through a Skill that accelerated recovery by drawing roots of golden power in the ground. An image that craves stability and growth, something that... perhaps was lacking in my childhood. The first of my images and the most reliable. Is that a good enough explanation?”

Azriel nodded. “Okay next, the Stillborn Phoenix.”

Randidly had to consider for a few seconds before answering. “A more complicated image Path; I don’t quite remember exactly which Skill started it, but the Stillborn Phoenix is a metaphor for my larger journey, right? To make the impossible, possible. To overthrow the Nexus, the source of my newfound power. The image is me trying to give birth to a glorious phoenix from an egg of darkness. It contains all of my more violent emotions: hope, rage, fear, grief... it consumes all those things and generates cosmic power. The emotional affect for that one... well, I admit there are two glaring flaws. However, I have no idea how you would go about addressing them. For now, that dreamer aspect of my personality fuels the emotional side.”

“I appreciate the breadth of your images. But finally, the Grey Creature.” Azriel leaned forward.

Randidly pursed his lips; her problem was with the Grey Creature? “The Grey Creature is the bastard child of Shal and my early struggles with the System and Yystrix. It came from the Kata of the Ashen Spear and then eventually took on the shape of the Spear Phantom. In addition, it drew heavily from other struggles I had in my childhood when I was exposed to complex emotional situations that I didn’t understand. So I already had an instinct to lower my head and survive. That instinct served me well in the System.”

“What about its emotional affect? What does the Grey Creature feel?”

Randidly pressed his hands against the table. “The Grey Creature is concerned with survival. More than anything else, I think every day about how much a threat the Nexus is to the development of the Alpha Cosmos. I’m about to go back out there, to seek a cure for the Patron of Feathers and hope she has some answers about what happened at the end of the Second Cohort and what Elhume is trying to accomplish. So I live with those fears every day. I face them every day. The Grey Creature endures them. That will to survive is honed by those fears.”

Azriel titled her head to the side. “And how do you feel about the Grey Creature?”

“I- well, it’s obviously incredibly useful. It’s the most martially proficient of my images.” The question caught Randidly off guard.

Azriel smirked, as though she had scored a point. “You give such an answer but you claim there isn’t a flaw in your attitude toward that image?”

Randidly leaned back in his chair. He tried not to clench his jaw. “I’ve played your game, so tell me what you want to say. I’m honestly getting pretty annoyed, Azriel.”

“I believe you refuse to address your negative feelings toward Yystrix. And in a way, I suspect it is by extension a purposeful ignorance out that relates back to your mother.” Azriel steepled her fingers. “You hold a lot of anger toward both of them, so much so that you would probably feel something akin to hatred. But you, perhaps more to your emotional intelligence than most would acknowledge, don’t want to be defined by the violence of those emotions. So you haven’t dealt with them or given them an outlet. You haven’t expressed them. You have simply buried them and allowed them to exist. Essentially, you built an emotional bomb at the core of the Grey Creature.”

Randidly blinked. “What?”

“I’ll leave it at that, then,” Azriel nodded. “The rest we can figure out in the challenge. I hope you are prepared. We won’t spare you on account of everything you’ve done for us. If anything, that will make us only more determined.”