[color=757163][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/qqOgY1Z.png[/img] [img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEyOC44ZGU0NTcuUm5Wc2JDQkRhWEpqYkdVLjA/italianno.regular.webp[/img] [/center] [hr][hr] [center][youtube]https://youtu.be/lIU_W4boby8[/youtube][/center] Zarina’s right side was barely supported by a bent spire made of red. Skin was torn apart with remaining, blackened stands barely hanging on the torn muscles. Bones were spared but the leg could essentially be considered crippled. Neither wildblood healing nor paltry knowledge in binding could salvage it in a timely manner. All she could spare was a severe limp, made worse by intense dulling as to not have her drool any more than she already was. She did not scream, but her eyes were bloodshot and her lips covered in foaming saliva. The pain was atrocious. [color=#E5E4E2][i]Jo …[/i][/color] The ghostly figure retracted her hand. [color=#E5E4E2][i]This is what you meant. The people you talked about.[/i][/color] The hair, the posture, the ruthlessness. It was all Jocasta. Her sensei. Impossible to read - Certosa’s chemical prowess was far greater than Zarina’s. It was hard to focus too when standing became a challenge, her sword what her anchor. [color=#E5E4E2][i]I can’t stay on the group, I’m worthless here.[/i][/color] With that, the dragon made the risky decision to take to the sky like her enemies, knowing full well she had a Skyborn to deal with. [color=#E5E4E2][i]I need to get out. I can’t even hit the other one. And now Jocasta … I don’t …[/i][/color] In the midst of her thoughts, the one with the chartreuse-coloured mask - a mask lacking any human trait, any soul - appeared right in front of Zarina. A delicate, thin hand that was unmistakably her master’s reached out to strangle her. The other slapped away the Virangish’s sword, prompting the one with the azure mask to seize it. The other hadn’t done anything since, in spite of the openings. Despite the resolve to kill. A detail that frustrated Zarina all the more. [color=#E5E4E2]“I-I …”[/color] it was hard to speak. Both hands on the blonde spectre’s arm did little to loosen the grip. [color=#E5E4E2]“I’m sorry, Jo’ …”[/color] Volto Certosa, known as Veleno “The Poison”, did not react. Her head merely canted a little before she tightened her grip. There was undeniable murderous intent behind the hollow holes of the mask. [color=#E5E4E2][i]I can’t keep my promise. To stop you. I never could.[/i][/color] The faceless assailant remained as she was, but the blue assassin twitched. She leaned forward. Reacted. It was conspicuous enough to have Zarina notice it as well as the drawing. Certosa swelled in power. [color=#E5E4E2][i]You did not draw.[/i][/color] she noticed, kept conscious only through her expert use of chemical magic. [color=#E5E4E2][i]You act like you neither love nor hate me.[/i][/color] a big attack was coming. True massive, but … [color=#E5E4E2][i]Not nearly as big as …[/i][/color] The one with the azure mask scoffed silently. Instead of attacking, Zarina began to draw. She drew a lot, very much at capacity. The featureless mask cracked. The arm that held Zarina kept strong but fizzled into a blur. [color=ffdead]“Z- Za-.”[/color] the whole being began to crack. [color=#E5E4E2]“The real you …”[/color] with a single slam of her palms onto the arm, the figure shattered. [color=#E5E4E2]“Would not be nearly this weak!”[/color] she proclaimed almost like a triumphant roar. A glare full of ire was then directed to the one holding the strings. [color=#E5E4E2]“All tricks. No bite.”[/color] the dragon taunted, taking deep breaths. Her leg was still in terrible shape. The assassin chuckled. A first show of emotion. Chuckle and spoke with a voice befitting an actual person. [color=#5c8ee6]“No bite, she says.”[/color] in an instant, Zarina that was still recovering from being nearly choked out, was introduced to a massive, unseen force of pure pressure sending her right into the cliffside of the coast. Her attacker had actually moved in close range to ensure she had taken the entirety of her ‘bite’. [color=#5c8ee6]“Conceded child. You may be strong, you may even impress some of us. But you have neither bark nor bite.”[/color] the entity’s gloved hand had all of her fingers hook and crack after the assault. Zarina was nestled in a crater created from the impact of her body. Scales, RAS and healing had prevented her from taking more than a few broken ribs. Although now, with a constant need to regain her breath, these otherwise ‘minor’ injuries felt like death. [color=#5c8ee6]“I am Volto Azurro. You may remember me in the afterlife as Triste. Consider this your reward for pushing this far.”[/color] there wasn’t this aggressive neutrality and indifference in her voice. There was a desire to sink her metaphorical fangs into her prey, to poison her, before finishing the job. [color=#E5E4E2][i]Why?[/i][/color] Zarina wondered as she dragged herself out of her rocky tomb and barely managed to stand up straight. [color=#E5E4E2][i]Why do all this? Just kill me.[/i][/color] a challenging glare remained on the Virangish’s face - it was not a request to kill her, but a demand. The games were weighing on her soul. [color=#E5E4E2][i]But you’re no fucking Jocasta.[/i][/color] Triste scowled under her mask. Her body language echoed this wave of emotion, even if subtly. More and more, it began to click. What felt like an impossibility was taking form right before her. [color=#E5E4E2][i]Fine then. I won’t make it easy for you.[/i][/color] Azurro extended her arm in the same manner the false Certosa did. All around Zarina were small particles - she recognized them. They were about to blow. [color=#E5E4E2][i]A chain reaction! I’ll nullify it-[/i][/color] In that moment, Triste’s creations had immediately turned into an uncontrolled growth of metal that impaled everything nearby. However, Zarina hadn’t actually tampered with them and instead had reflexively teleported without any real idea or target. She merely zipped somewhere. Fortune determined that it would be twenty meters above the Volti, where she then launched an explosive chemical spell of her own. Triste quickly turned, still fast on the trigger, but this time there was no perfect counter. A robust barrier that just barely defended her from the attack had been conjured. And the end result was a piece of her pristine robe being charred. An insignificant morsel. [center][b]Progress.[/b] [youtube]https://youtu.be/YgjEFyRSPKo[/youtube][/center] [color=#5c8ee6][i]She switched her tactic at the last second. Is the exertion getting to her? Was she deterred because of her physical state? Like a cornered animal …[/i][/color] There was something in Zarina’s eyes that changed. She knew something. Triste knew that she knew soon after. Or at least, had enough of an idea. This flustered the Volti even more. Her movements lacked grace, and the fact that she was actually moving was noteworthy. The next attack came from Zarina. Temporal magic - a full body attack to grapple Triste. No, it was actually a piece of a tree’s trunk. The Volti had created a cloud to disintegrate flesh and blood that entered it, but a massive pile of wood prompted her to chop it with her own hand. Once again, the pre-emptive measure with no signs of temporal magic showed itself again. [color=#E5E4E2]“I see what you’re doing.”[/color] spoke Zarina. She looked terrible, like she could break apart any second now. There was then a moment of silence, the dragon’s gaze narrowed like she saw something others didn’t. [color=#5c8ee6][i]You wretched brat.[/i][/color] Triste’s fingers slowly curled into fists. [color=#5c8ee6][i]How can a feeble-mind like yours know-[/i][/color] the Volti inhaled deeply. [color=#5c8ee6][i]I overstepped. I showed you too much. You-[/i][/color] behind the mask, the assassin glared too. [color=#5c8ee6][i]You pathetic cuckoo. Poison. I should have killed you in Torragon. You know nothing of her. Of me. Of us.[/i][/color] Zarina attacked, this time Triste hesitated. The grapple attempt was real this time, but her instinct couldn’t be fully trusted. The dragon got too close. [color=#5c8ee6]“Not close enough.”[/color] the young attacker ended up screaming bloody murder and came crashing down. Her hands were severely burnt, as well as parts of her arms and other parts of her body. She screamed and banged her head against the dirt ground after impact. The agony was nothing she had ever felt before. Surrounding Triste was an unseen aura. Something of pure, sadistic death. [color=#5c8ee6]“Even the greatest of predators fall to the smallest of things in nature. Young dragon-”[/color] the Volti hovered closer to the agonizing girl. [color=#5c8ee6]“A Xochi Dart Frog could kill a Begemot. A blowfish, eaten whole, can condemn a blue water behemoth. I may look like easy prey once you see through me, but I’m no less a lethal threat to even the highest in the food chain.”[/color] the aura around her was peak levels of chemical magic, a cocktail of the most noxious of venoms and acids made gaseous. Flesh burned, nerves flared and blood rotted. The latter had just been avoided thanks to Zarina’s quick retreat. [color=#5c8ee6][i]Let’s end this.[/i][/color] But before she could, the pained Virangish warrior once again tugged onto the threads of space and time. [color=#5c8ee6][i]Pointless.[/i][/color] from above was a portal. But what came out of it wasn’t just water. [color=#5c8ee6][i]This isn’t right.[/i][/color] something crawled out of it. Massive, mindless and absolutely brutal. [color=#E5E4E2]“Eat her Nu!”[/color] The command meant little to the thing. A young Blue Water Behemoth had just been dropped onto Triste’s water-separating barrier. She had enough time to dodge, but the aggression of the beast outside of its element had become a problem. Suddenly, her predictive measures were traded for brute force with expert use of her magic schools. All the while Zarina continued her assaults on Volto Azurro. Teleported chunks of exploding goods, kinetic strikes, internal chemical sabotage … All within Triste’s specialities, all repelled, but the flailing, aquatic monster firing high-pressure jets of water at her prevented anything more than reactions. She was still mostly untouchable. She did, however, feel a tingle. Something nostalgic. Was it the taste of battle? Perhaps the connection between master and apprentice? She could sense, behind the rough, the marks of Jocasta in Zarina’s approach, in her technique. No, there was something even deeper to her identity. Something old, a memory that had happened a long time ago. It faded quickly as the behemoth proved to be far too rowdy to dispatch quickly. [color=#5c8ee6][i]I’ve no time to boil lobsters.[/i][/color] frustrated, she used Zarina’s own ability of portaling. Where it ended up was unknown to the Virangish, but Nu was gone. He had done his job. Zarina was left panting. She had given it her all. In the blink of an eye, she was hurled to the dirt once more. This time her hip cracked and her spine herniated. The pain was horrible, dulling it would ensure her loss of consciousness. She had fallen right by the corpse of her headless apprentice-to-be. Her eyes would be gazing where Fedouah’s would be. The dragon couldn’t escape, nor did she want to anymore. She had killed people, she had let her student die. She couldn’t even fight someone of her own size. Triste landed too and approached with a calculated gait. [color=#5c8ee6]“One of your most dangerous winnings in the trials. Surely we’d know of this. Surely you’d know that we know.”[/color] She did not get too close to the Al-Nader. She was smart enough not to, but she wanted to see this one die. [color=#5c8ee6][i]She’ll never need saving. Neither from you or-[/i][/color] [center][b]Home.[/b] [youtube]https://youtu.be/B2IWfBr3VjQ[/youtube][/center] Something was off. That feeling returned. It was more than just a feeling, however. Triste had sensed something. It was small - too small to be worthy of consideration or of intelligence. And yet, the out-of-place familiarity worried her more than any beast or even her tactics being found out. [color=#5c8ee6][i]No. This is wrong.[/i][/color] Whatever she was going to do, Triste stopped. She looked around. There was something else out there. But it had no higher intelligence, or a significant aura. [color=#5c8ee6][i]Small as a dart frog, unassuming as a blowfish …[/i][/color] she recalled. [color=#5c8ee6][i]No more.[/i][/color] No more distraction, she drew to quickly conjure a finishing spell, the same one that killed Fedouah. [color=#E5E4E2]“Nu is dangerous. He’s a monster. But he’s not my ace.”[/color] These words were enough to make Triste hesitate again. Had she miscalculated? No, this girl was not smart enough. Some house far away, that armband she wore and the aquatic monster. These were her new and most powerful assets. [color=#5c8ee6][i]Wait.[/i][/color] Zarina stood quickly, her right fist readied. [color=#5c8ee6][i]There was something else.[/i][/color] The feeling came again. Nostalgic. Familiar. [b]Close[/b]. This time it felt visceral. Zarina lunged and readied a punch. A sophomoric approach, one that could easily be stopped. Triste’s arm went limp. Her whole body faltered, leaning back as if she had been knocked out. And with it came the constant sensation that had been plaguing her. [color=#5c8ee6][i]I can’t …[/i][/color] she could regain control. Triste was that powerful. Her system flooded with drugs to jumpstart her nervous system again. As she was about to fall, her leg was the first to awaken. A mighty stomp on the ground had her fall come to a halt. But now the punch was imminent. [color=#5c8ee6][i]I remember.[/i][/color] the Volti quickly raised her hand, she had used too much energy to restore herself, making temporal unviable. But she did have her toxic shroud. At full power, she was going to punish Zarina with pain great enough to make her heart stop. [color=#5c8ee6][i]There was an auction too.[/i][/color] It did not deter the dragon. She continued her attack. [color=#5c8ee6][i]She’s crazy! What is wrong with you?![/i][/color] the fist tore through the searing shroud of death, instantly gnawing through Zarina’s hand and arm. [color=#5c8ee6][i]Oh.[/i][/color] The melting fist clashed against Volto Azurro’s mask, hitting the left cheek. It was everything that Zarina had, and naturally it shattered. [color=#5c8ee6][i]I see it now.[/i][/color] Flashes of missing cactus fruit. Of stolen oranges from the family orchard. Dungs under the floorboards. Gnawed wood. Dung in the bedroom. Of the pleasant sea breeze. Stinked up by dung. Of unwanted naps. As Triste’s gaze was forced toward the Palaparese bush by the punch that shattered her mask, she finally saw it. [color=#5c8ee6][i]That- It’s-[/i][/color] Hidden between bushes. A tiny thing among wildlife that had been hiding from the humans. It stood out among them all. Its golden colour, its pearly white teeth. There it was staring at her. [center][hider=Yawn][img]https://i.imgur.com/Q5iWy8s.jpeg[/img][/hider] [color=#5c8ee6][i]The Golden Vermin![/i][/color][/center] Triste, mentor and parental figure of Jocasta, had sought to kill the latter’s pupil, but not before executing Zarina’s own pupil. A sadistic circle, one she believed to be the beginning and the end of. Such arrogance bit her in the very end. The very first hardship as a Djamantese girl she had ever faced came to be her potential last one too. It had truly gone [b]full circle[/b]. Volto Azurro had been hit for the first time. She flew twenty or so meters away and barreled a few more. Once the dust settled, she stood on one knee, hand on her blooded and swollen face. Long, blonde hair flowed out of her damaged hood with fragments lodged into her scalp as well. Panting. Seething. Zarina had fallen to her knees too. Her arm was gooped-up flesh, infected blood and steaming bone. Her idle hand was clutching her shoulder, tightening around it to cut blood flow. Her heart rate was dangerously high, the pain was astronomical and part of her face had been burned off. But by sheer will to live and resentment for her enemy, she ripped off her arm and seared the wound closed. Bestial. That’s what she was. A beast that charged forward into danger. The armband was redundant at this point. Triste’s good eye could see it. She had let emotion and attachment get in the way, and now Virang’s dragon was more untethered than she ever was. [color=#5c8ee6][i]She’s weak. I can finish this quickly.[/i][/color] Triste did not believe her own words. Armless. Missing a lot of blood. A mess. It should be easy prey, but the assassin was no longer certain. She could heal herself relatively quickly, but at the risk of her face being seen and wasting time. The final decision was made once she heard the trumpets near Kalubay. Ertan Kashani and his forces had arrived. Time’s up. Clenching her bloodied and deformed face, Volto Azurro glared one last time at her mark. Reason had returned. [color=#5c8ee6]“Expect us.”[/color] Uttered with her real voice, she vanished in a cloud of dust. Zarina, silent, fell onto her good shoulder, once again eyeing her dead comrade. Biby the hippo joined her soon after, finding it an adequate time to rest. Sounds of horses closing in, having likely detected the surges of energy, let her finally breathe. She agreed with the little one, it's a good time to fall asleep. She had earned her rest.[/color]