So lost in thought was Fleo that upon the sudden arrival and murmured threat of
Black Death, she did nothing more than jump slightly, pulled out of her reverie.
”Huh? Sorry? Confused, she blinked several times at the nebulous haze that floated where a man's voice had come from.
Did I imagine that? She looked around, noticing that none of her Phoenix Wing friends surrounded her any longer. A groan issued from the dusty woman, just now realizing that in some dastardly daydream she'd totally wandered away from the group. Another quick glance ascertained her towering goal in the distance: the arena, on top of that miniature mountain that allowed it to loom over the city like a castle in the sky.
Fleo began walking toward it. Behind her, there came a muffled growl.
”Ignore me, will you? No...don't go away! I'm here, damn it, look at me!” The voice turned to despair, but at that moment, the hidden form of Black Death materialized again. Unable to bear the thought of his own target forgetting about him, the cursed assassin lunged forward, thrusting a knife at the back of Fleo's knee to sever the artery there and stain the pavement with her blood.
”You're not going anywhere! I want you to see my face before you die!”Startled, the dusty woman started to turn, but too late. The rigid steel blade pushed through her skirt, the bandages, and the leg beneath, sliding through with zero resistance and sprouting from the kneecap. Fleo stumbled, but Black Death, aghast, barely noticed. His fingers slid from the weapon, leaving it embedded in Fleo's knee, and watched her turn around without crying in pain.
”What? You...you can't ignore that! That's impossible!” Teeth gritted, he lunged forward, aiming his second knife for his target's ribcage.
A panicked cry issued from Fleo, stirring the dust around her, and before the dagger could find a new home among her organs a shell of dust coagulated around her, too dense to be penetrated by ordinary blades. Black Death's attack glanced off the hard-packed surface, and he found only enough time to fume his disbelief before the dust coating exploded, throwing him back. Before he hit the ground, he vanished, and when the dust cloud cleared Fleo stood alone, hyperventilating and clueless.
Black Death smiled grimly. Though he hated the dark magic that afflicted him, he could not deny its usefulness. Whenever he disappeared into shadow, he could make people's memories of him disappear, too. The rub came in that he could not vanish voluntarily, and when he did -oftentimes unintentionally- he sometimes caused people to forget him when he didn't want it. Truth to be told, nothing made him sadder than that curse. That, however, was a story for another time. He stood up at his leisure, watching Fleo look around in utter bemusement, unable to recall what or why she defended herself. Slowly, as if drunk and not quite sure where to go, she turned around to leave, her dust settled into orbs littering the ground. Immediately, Black Death charged forward.
”This is it! My chance to make someone remember me forever!”In his haste to stab his knife into the dusty woman's back, he bulled straight through a cluster of dustballs on the ground. The next second, all he could see was grayish brown, all he could hear was a steady ringing, and all he could feel was the rush of air as he flew through the air, until he hit the ground with a
crunch. He reappeared, gasping and clutching his broken shoulder, and Fleo knelt down beside him. Black Death, though he knew not how it went down, knew at least that he had been soundly defeated. He glared at Fleo, his sunken, malnourished features barely more angry than sorrowful.
”How...how'd you do it? Nobody remembers me when I disappear! It sucks most of the time, but I thought I had you...how?”Fleo looked down, and Black Death followed her gaze before groaning when he saw the knife still jammed through her knee. With the bandages cut, the whole area looked far more like dust than flesh, and not a drop of blood could be seen.
”I didn't remember you, and I don't really feel pain in these limbs, but I figured someone must be trying to hurt me.””Just my luck! You're some kind of sand wizard. And you used your magic to blow up the sand I spilled! Don't think this is over. I knew that even if I failed you, a light mage, wouldn't be able to kill me. My name's Black Death, and I'm gonna snuff out your...light?”Fleo had stood up and strolled away. The weapon stuck in her leg lay on the ground, fallen there by chance. As she left, Black Death got a good look at her face, and uttered a hopeless sob: it was as if he'd never existed.
Cormorant Sanders – Frenzy Plant Camp
@CaitsWhen the voice of Gabriel reached him, Sanders slowed down to listen. Though the boy felt as though he were ignored, in reality Frenzy Plant's general watched him constantly, and worried about him. In fact, among all of the new arrivals, Sanders observed him the most. Inwardly he dreaded that Gabriel not only didn't belong in the warrior guild, but also knew it and persevered anyway. From his observation, Sanders recognized a faulty sort of mindset, which alone didn't throw him off; Frenzy Plant lived and breathed the notions of fault and flaw, and in its motto asserted unconditionally that its members never stopped growing stronger. Unfortunately, Sanders suspected that Gabriel's particular fault came not from a lack of principles, but from an an excess of them—principles that lay at odds with those that Frenzy Plant held dear. From the first day, when Gabriel refused to use his Spirits to fight and attacked the guild's best soldier out of temper, Sanders had worried.
Could Gabriel march with discipline, honor, and respect with the others, or would he march always to his own tune? Was he capable of allowing another will to rule over him?
When the time came, could he perform that terrible but necessary act inherent to all soldiers?
For now, however, Sanders listened. After he listened, he spoke, betraying none of his thoughts.
”Very well...but briefly consider the tradeoff. Are you going because you doubt in the abilities of your comrades? Are you aware that the Games are perhaps the best way to become familiar with new magic and fighting styles, and to learn from them? When you arrive at camp, please find Thor, and invite her to join us at the Doma Flau. She is, after all, part of the official team in Hyun's absence. Dismissed.”After Grant's questioning, Wheel of Fortune grew deadpan. Remarkably, her allure and friendliness drained away at top speed when seriousness settled over her. Solemnity did not become Lockheart, particularly in the fitful and unflattering light available in the cellar of a dark guild's temporary home, but once it became obvious that this uncouth Vale would not be infatuated with her charms she needed not waste them on him. With an air of resolute defiance the crossed her arms. At length, she replied, “I know exactly the perpetrators of our misery. You give off the impression that you could back up your claims easily, but you're not the one we hate. It is the Guild Master of Iron Enigma, and he is not responsible for murder. He's responsible for much more: condemnation. What is worse? To die a human, or to live forever as a monster? Not a beast in human flesh, as I imagine many of you are, but a true monster inside and out.”
Lockheart then looked at herself, the cephalopod skin and tentacles, extra eyes and shell-hat. Though her lips worked an elaborate and immaculate lie, her gaze held traces of genuine disgust. Even if she'd truly accepted herself as Number Ten, Wheel of Fortune, she had yet to embrace it even in her heart of hearts.
Her eyes returned to Grant. “We don't care about the games. And we don't hold Gregory accountable to the laws of men. You see, he allowed us to be condemned without knowing all that it entailed. We want him to know, and to understand what became of his actions.”
Hyun Sasithom – Frenzy Plant Stands
@ZarkunThe third day of the Grand Magic Games marked the first time since her defeat on day one that Frenzy Plant's legendary swordswoman appeared at the Doma Flau. Hyun, with an eerie yellow color in her eyes but no sign of any weapon, filtered into the colosseum along with the rest of her guild. Her face broadcasted no special emotion, be it anger, sadness, anticipation, or interest. Instead, she seemed oddly at peace. Sitting with her comrades, she commenced the long wait for the day's first activity to begin without worry, for Thor would be filling her spot on her guild's roster for the day.
She did, however, look with notable frequency across the arena to where Frenzy Plant sat, looking for a face ingrained upon her memory. Without much guessing, it could be inferred that for some interminable reason, Hyun watched for the Blade of Phoenix Wing, Damian.
