The Trial of Gladiator

[Miro]

9th day of Summer, 514 AV

Miro had guided Venser out into the wilderness, but with few words. There was a simple reason as to why, but the wizard did not reveal anything to his companion. He had found that it was not always necessary. That was something he liked, with the Legate no words need be wasted on trivialities. The trip out of the city was long and dragged by for this reason however. But all along the wizard's Familiar guided him.

Ender had been informing his undead master of a great many things that had happened in the day previous. A portion of the day's happenings were lost to the Chained One after he had fallen to discord and lost himself. All he knew was that he woke on the ground with a terrible pain in his body. His Familiar had told him that after he fell to overgiving Venser had defeated him in combat.

Naturally such a claim left the wizard suspicious, so the Irylid elaborated. Miro in his rage attempted an assault on Ender, and Venser intervened to finish things. Knowing the wizard was weak on the left side, Venser had kicked Miro's left leg out and pinned him down. This allowed Ender to use Hypnotism to pacify him. It was a lie, usually something able to be read across the bond, but the Familiar kept his emotions completely suppressed as he explained this.

Of course the Hypnotism used helped convince the undead of the story. It was easy to convince somebody of something they were eager to hear. Miro had eaten it up, as well as what he told him after. The crafty Familiar had put a plan into motion. Venser had been told to come back the next day, assured he did well. This worked well with the Irylid's plan. It allowed him to lead his master just where he wanted him.

There was a particular place that the undead used when he wanted to do experiments away from people. It was a clearing out in the woods, and by now he knew the way well. What he did not know was why Ender had led them here. He vaguely remembered telling Venser about wanting to show him Summoning, Zaiden, but could not recall why. It really made him angry, but he knew better than to let that come over him.

Since he had his mind come back to him, one thing was apparent to him, he was unstoppable. He knew what had happened, he had an epiphany, an awakening. The truth of the Flux was revealed to him, he understood something entirely new. And then it came back to him, the entire point of this. It clicked, why they were here, why Zaiden. It was all to test Venser, to perform the trail of the gladiator.

Miro led Venser to the clearing and took a deep breath in through his nose. This place was ripe with Djed, felt inviting, like home. It was enough to sooth a bit of the annoyance he had been dealing with. It was hard to blame Ender, though for a while he tried. It seemed like the Familiar was the only thing keeping him sane. The irritability was replaced with the simple reminder that the Chained One had his plan set in motion.

In truth however this was not his plan, but one implanted by the manipulative Irylid. There was no way to know that Miro will come to the conclusion he did, but the mind had a way of filling in gaps that a Hypnotist so often left. However it would work perfectly for his goal. With just a bit more Hypnotism Venser and Miro would be right where he wanted them.

The Summoner began without any words on his project. He had his Glyphing bag with him but was without his staff. As powerful as he was, he did not need to be at his prime. The wizard began to set up for his craft and would make sure that it was perfect. He willed his Djed to pour from his flesh as a gaseous aqua colored Res that began to condense above him into a thick fluid.

After the paints and brushes were arranged neatly to the side, the Res was guided down before him. A thick plate was formed with a diameter of five feet was created, a larger spell than he usually produced for Summoning. However this would be a grand circle, one that exceeded the expectations of lesser minds. The Res was transmuted to a pale white stone.

With the surface provided the Summoner could begin his craft. He began by creating his Summoning circle, though it would be complimented by Glyphing. For this reason the circle left a blank area around it and was made only large enough to allow a large person to cross the portal. The basic outline of the circle with the sixteen coordinate fonts were painted in carefully.

From his bag was a book he used whenever he Summoned, a guide he had picked up. Quite the handy tool for a novice Summoner, it contained information on various worlds and circles. There was a more advanced circle that the wizard wished to master, one supposedly appealing to the Diverse. It would likely hold a weak connection for a short time however.

Miro would not let anything deter his absolute confidence though. He had his Glyphing to assist him in this. Miro began to draw the harmonic octagonal circle, a simple enough circle to draw. The first font at the top was connected to the seventh font. The seventh was connected to the thirteenth, a line drawn to the font six head. The pattern continued until finally it lapsed into a star of eight points was drawn.

In the center of the star was an octagonal section, the last part of the circle to be completed. A set of lines connected each corner of the octagon and crossed in the very center. The lines were then connected by a small circle painted across them. Now all there was to do was attune it to Zaiden, input the astral coordinates. In the correct slots he painted the numbers, one, zero, six, nine, zero, zero, two, five, eight, three, five, eight, two, one, zero, four.

Next came the Glyphing. It had to be harmonic with the circle, meaning it would need to adhere to the established numerical formula. The circle contained sixteen slots, an eight pointed star, so it left a clear answer. He would work with the basic number of four, create squares and diamonds. These were excellent shapes for creating a stable barrier, easily patterned as well.

The outside area of the plate quickly began to fill with the carefully placed shapes. A set of diamonds posed corner to corner formed a circular ring around the base of the circle. The upper and bottom corners of the shapes were connected by lines to form squares, and the shape quickly became a jumbled pattern. It did not appear nearly as gracefully as he would have hoped, and it frustrated him.

Miro thrust his hand forcefully at the plate and let out an angry grumble as he willed his Djed to accelerate along his arm and out his hand as a gaseous Res. The substance would immediately be transmuted upon crossing the threshold of his flesh to a gust of air. The spell only lasted a moment and the plate was dry. He would see that his Glyphing was made perfectly, but felt the need to defend himself of his shoddy work.

Finally the wizard turned his attention to Venser. His eyes were cold and his tone was harsh and critical. "You may have proven yourself yesterday in a pinch, but it can be easy to deal with the enemy you know. If you are to impress me, to truly prove yourself, you will need to pass the Trial of Gladiator. You must overcome the enemy you do not know. Are you ready?" The undead closed the book and tucked it into his sling with a smirk on his face.

[Venser Rush]

Irritability had deeply set itself into Venser Rush's mind. The day before had been a test in more ways than one for the Rush twin, and he had come out of it both victorious and defeated. If Venser had been alone against Miro, he would not have emerged from their battle alive, for the Undead had used some strange, powerful form of the Flux that the Rush twin, if given the chance, would absolutely love to analyze. But, he was not yet ready to. Instead, he had spent the night resting, noticing that his mind had been poisoned by the usage of the Flux.

He felt savage surges of irritability, invincibility, strength and desire to inflict violence. They had come and gone in their turn and this morning, when Venser Rush had left his room at Tarsin's, had left it torn apart. Sheets were torn on the bedding, the table punctured and nearly slashed in half by the rabid swinging of Venser's punch daggers. One was deeply embedded into the wall, fissures forming from the place of impact and spreading along the wall like a spider's legs. If Venser had been in the right state of mind, he'd be apalled at the outburst, but he was not. Rage was not directed, but unleashed, poured out and drained from his very being, building further and further again as Miro led him across the ferry.

The passage had been calm up until the very end, but as he began walking deeper and deeper into the forests past Lakeshore, he found that he was quickly growing impatient with the slow progress and not being told exactly to what purpose he was following the wizard. Venser was not thinking clearly. He consistently cast his gaze about in search of something to distract him from the rolling, tense frustration that boiled to the surface of his mind. His lips were pursed into a scowl as he cast his gaze skyward to the tapestry of trees that canopied, light just managing to spill in small rays. The lighting did not encourage peacefulness, either.

Venser was quickly following behind Miro, his fists clenched, punch daggers striking against clips that held them to his pants. The Rush twin was nearly at the precipice of breaking out and demanding knowledge as to where the duo were going. But, he did not. Instead, he just looked forward. It was several moments before the pair finally stopped and Venser was given a chance to think.

Am I a damned child? Miro's been parading me about, walking through the city, onto the Gods-damned ferry and across the way to Lakeshore, and even into the forest without telling me what the fuck we're about to do. This is humiliating...

Usually, the Rush twin knew Miro to be looking out for him, but today, when Miro had stopped and began employing the use of Reimancy, he was momentarily astonished.

What the...? Is he making a circle?

Venser was interrupted by his thoughts for long enough to cast his gaze over and about the circle, noting similarities between it and the Malediction circles he drew. Including on the one that was hidden away by wolf's fur and pressed against his wrist. The Maledicted wolf's fur wristband clung to his wrist, but was easily enough removed, but he had chosen not to, curious about its effects, which seemed to not be negative. At least, not yet. He already had an idea of what it did, employing the use of Auristics during its creation had given him a great deal of insight. And Venser knew that the artifact had to do with the 'Ferocity' that was written onto it, to a point of ruthlessness. He couldn't be sure exactly how it affected him, but he suspected. And that was enough.

For the moment, he cast it aside, just in time to hear Miro speak to him.

Miro went on to mention an unknown enemy and the 'Trial of the Gladiator', a pulse racing in his chest, a smirk clearly present upon his features as he found that the lust for violence that was building in him, the desire to rend apart, destroy, and defeat that rose in his mind... it would find satiation. Eagerness rose in his mind, the smirk expanding upon his features as he reached to unclasp the clips that kept the punch daggers to his sides. He laced his fingers into each of the grips in turn as he replied to the Undead wizard,

"Of course I'm ready. That fight of ours yesterday... It left a sour taste in my mouth. It wasn't a true victory. I want to win. I have to win."

Venser looked to the circle again, curiosity abound for but a moment before he nodded towards Miro,

"I'll face the champion you have for me. I'm more than ready."

The Flux had borne new strength into him, and more than anything... he wanted to test it.

[Miro]

Miro did not even acknowledge Venser, only the fact that he had replied. His words were heard only by Ender, the Familiar quite eager for the Legate. The undead had continued on his work without even a glance up. He switched paints and took a much thicker brush. With his red paint he drew another set of barriers atop his already drawn rune. This was another method of drawing runes. When well performed, it was quite the useful tool.

The Glypher began to paint large calligraphic words to form a magical phrase. He began to spell out, "On these red sands only the strong will stand." The phrase did not completely wrap about, so in the remaining area, he wrote a word given extra detailing. The word "Trial", written sideways in the gap. The large words wrapped together to form a box around the word. With that his Glyphing was completed, and now all that remained was the Summoning itself.

Miro hated this part, he was no good at it. It took a lot of focus, more than he could easily spare. He closed his eyes and began to clear his mind. A deep sigh escaped from him, and though he did not find silence, he did find clarity. A reminder of his perfection, the truth of his power, that he could not be hindered. Yes, he could do this. Nothing could stop a true wizard. He only needed to focus his will.

The Morpher knew what he needed to do to perform the magic. It was usually quite difficult for him, but he knew this spell very well. He began to focus Djed to his fingertips and rub them harshly together. In his mind he began to chant the word, "Blood", over and over. His mind flashed his memories of the substance, his understanding, and his will directed the transformation of his Djed.

The Djed focused on the tip of his thumb, the target of the spell. The flesh began to shift and transmute into blood. The wizard pulled his thumb from his finger and pressed it firmly against the circle to activate it. The reaction to the blood was instantaneous. The inside of the circle turned to an swirling inky vortex. The familiar oily scent was in the air as the Chained One took a deep breath through his nose.

Finally it happened, quicker than either wizard or Familiar expected, the aura flared. The colorful lights rose from the circle and danced about as the figure rose from the portal. It was beautiful, the transition quite smooth. There were no sparks like he was used to. The typical harsh screech replaced by a smooth humming sound. Every once in a while the sound would distort and the aura would become frantic, but it was impressive nonetheless.

Just as impressive as the Summoning was the Summoned being. The Diverse were a race of large humanoid warriors that excelled at violence. This one in particular was a stocky individual with a large wooden club. Though the weapon was cheap and improvised, it looked quite heavy and dangerous. The Summoner backed away but kept tight control on his leash. This would be a fun test.

Miro spoke instructions to the Summon before him. "This is your enemy." He pointed an accusatory finger at Venser. "If you kill him, I shall give you everything I possess." The Summoner pressed his fingers together and focused on the emotion of violence. His Djed pooled behind his fingers as he pressed them together to loose a loud snap. The crack of his finger echoed against the trees around them.

Both Venser and the Summon would feel a powerful surge of Violence as the Diverse had its leash loosened to allow it to move freely. The Chained One held a mighty grin on his face beneath his mask. "Fight!" he roared, eager to see blood spilled. The Summon did not hesitate to make its move, immediately cocking its arm for a powerful swing of its club. Tensions were high, and all eyes were on the combatants.

[Venser Rush]

Fight!

The word tore through Venser's consciousness as he allowed a cursory glance to size up his opponent. A large, rather mutated looking being, but to be fair, Venser cared absolutely nothing for what the being was or what brought it to the area. Obviously, Miro had conjured it into being, the circles underneath it absolutely reeked of world magic. If Venser had the time, he'd look upon the circles, but he did not. Nor did he care in the least. Later would be the ideal time to reflect upon it, but for the moment, a visceral, hungry grin materialized upon the Rush twin's lips as he stepped forward. Knuckles cracked as he pressed them against one another. He subsequently tugged at the fabric of his djed, crystalline blue eyes glaring at the Diverse as Venser took a single step forward.

The Diverse had been listening to Miro's words and was momentarily distracted. But, it quickly looked over and began to frenzy, his form almost erupted in what looked to be laughter. It seemed to be openly mocking the Rush twin, which swept rage through Venser's senses. Coursing, inflating, welling under the surface, the wristband upon Venser Rush's right wrist took advantage. It would sculpt the feelings as a desire swept within his thoughts, pounding through his skull as the edges of his vision began to blur. An obsession began to build, the grin upon Venser's features beginning to fade as a single, manifesting desire welled.

Destruction of the enemy.

Fists lowered to undo the clips that kept Venser's punch dagger tied onto his waistband at the left side. The weapon lowered to his hand, which quickly looped its fingers into the grips, the Rush twin keeping his right hand available for a different purpose. The beast looked sentient, but by its appearance, Venser also judged it as unintelligent. The use of a club merely furthered the feeling's legitimacy. The Rush twin watched as the being stepped forward, club raised as it ran towards Venser. Djed pulled within the depth of Venser's soul, the twin pushing the djed from his both of his arms and placed them along the length of his legs. The transference of djed was much quicker than Venser had previously experienced, the culmination of Venser's experience proving that he had much more to offer than a slow fight. A single attack was by no means an application of combat.

Miro had taught him how to apply the Flux through actual experience. The immense surging of djed that had coursed through the Undead was felt even without Auristics, which only told him just how quickly it was moving. While Venser had no means of mirroring such power, he felt that he could, at the very least, begin that route. Djed surged within Venser's legs and as the club raised high, Venser stepped forward. The movement was done without the pumping of his arms, both hanging at his sides as he threw himself forward. The arch of the Diverse's swing was calculated as he noted the object's length, the twin giving himself but a moment to register the speed of the swing before he had to duck to avoid it. He was close, near to the Diverse's body as the swing concluded, and beneath the arm, Venser could feel the displacement of air that occurred. Surprised, but not quite intimidated, Venser tugged at his djed again.

Djed still resided within both of his legs, and the Diverse's body was twisted about. It gave Venser a momentary opening, but he had little idea of how to effectively take advantage of it. Rather than stand and inflict as much damage as he could, the ideal outcome of such a window, Venser decided for what was closest. Djed swept from his legs, rising through his body and coursing through the astral pathways. Merely the excess of djed was tugged at, the strength from both of Venser's arms instead moving to merely his left.

A mere moment... Maximize the flow.

If Venser could pull djed more quickly... perhaps he had the ability to focus the trajectory, as well. Djed flowed through his shoulder and tricep, Venser sweeping his left arm to cleave through the musculature of the Diverse's calf. He did not get a clean swipe, far too consumed with employing the Flux to do so, but steel cleaved through bone, slashing deeply into the flesh of the Diverse's leg, a scream tearing from its lungs as it swung its club once more, unable to muster the full strength of the blow due to a change in posture.

But, it was enough. The club crashed into Venser's right side, sending the Rush twin rolling several feet, tumbling on the floor as he threw his punch dagger aside to avoid further injury. The trajectory of the weapon, augmented by the strength in his arm, flew through the air and punctured a tree, a deep hole carved into the bark. Deep coughs tore through his lips as he felt the flesh immediately begin to swell. He stayed down for a moment, coughing violently as his lungs pushed the remainder of air turned into carbon dioxide, wheezes wracking his form as bloodshot eyes turned to the Diverse.

It had fallen to the ground, blood sputtering from its calf, shock evident in its body as its skin paled. The being had begun scrambling to its feet, its weight obviously geared to the uninjured side. Venser rose to his feet, as well, his left arm pressed to his side, but he quickly found that the pain was fading.

The Flux compels me to continue fighting by dulling my pain. This... being. It must die. Or I must die. Survival of the fittest.

Life or Death. Absolute victory or absolute death.

Again, Venser found the grin marking his features. Oh how wonderful it felt to be alive. The pits of combat tore a deep chill down his spine, the eagerness rising to both destroy his opponent, and revel in its slaughter.

[Venser Rush]

Pain. Pain was a figment of the imagination, the firing of nerves and the breaking down of physical imperfection. Pain was the consequence of weakness and the end result of incompetence. Pain ended combat by exposing a fighter to hesitance. The Flux dulled such unnecessary sensations and replaced it with fury. Venser Rush's grin spread along his features for a moment before again, it faded. The twin cast his gaze upon the limping form of the Diverse, noting that his attack permanently crippled it. This was an exciting development because of how easy the rest of the battle could go if the Rush twin was intelligent.

He took a moment, allowing the Flux to re-direct his djed to the appropriate places, the entirety of his residual djed evenly placed thorugh his body. The casting of the Flux would lead the Rush twin into overgiving should he continue forward with the same pace of re-direction, but survival was more important than sanity. Venser stood straight, the flesh upon his rib cage throbbing wildly but the Rush twin chuckled for a moment. He was ready. Beyond so. Rather than continue to be reactive, Venser Rush decided that in order to see victory, he would need to strike first.

Djed welled once again, a deep, whelming surge of excitement mounting in Venser's consciousness. It flushed within him, his heart pacing in his chest, pounding. There was no need to wait. Venser Rush charged forward, legs pumping as he tugged at the fabric of his djed. Just as the Diverse raised its club again, a re-direction transpired. Djed flowed from his arms and again into his feet, flooding, surging into his calves as he leaped forward. Both arms raised up, Venser arching his neck to avoid the Diverse's body. He floored the organism, the being losing grip of its club, the weapon clunking to the floor as the Flux-charged tackle brought both of them to the ground. Venser nearly straddled the being as he the final re-direction surged djed again into both of his arms and triceps.

Two areas, both meant to maximize strength in his arms as he relied upon his weight to keep the Diverse pinned to the ground. A fist crashed into the Diverse's jaw, a crack felt in Venser's fist, though a resounding break was heard in the being's jaw. Venser's right hand flared with the pain, but it was forgotten as he lowered his fist to his waistband. The Rush twin moved his arm forward, his hand curling around the Diverse's throat, pressure applied, choking the being and giving Venser a sufficient opening to un-clip the weapon. A fist crashed into Venser's shoulder, but he shrugged off the pain, excitement mounting as wide, crystalline eyes looked down at the prey that was so ready for slaughter.

Grips were pulled tightly against Venser Rush's fingers, the blonde allowing a grin to materialize upon his features. A second re-direction. The Flux surged from left arm to right, the punch dagger sailing forward. And then, it punctured the flesh. It tore through the ribcage as he pressed it forward, cleaving through the chest cavity. Blood poured from the wound, a cough escaping the Diverse's lips as Venser continued to apply force. Bones chipped away under the strength of the Flux, driving the punch dagger deeper into the being's chest. Just when Venser was done, however, the Diverse rose up, pushing Venser's arm deeper into its chest, eyes wide and unblinking, though teeth tore into Venser's shoulders.

No amount of dulling could stop the pain that flared through Venser's senses. A loud cry burst forth from his lips as blood stained his arm. The weak, sputtering beat of the Diverse's heart was felt against Venser's fist as he snapped. Pain became his master, whetting his appetite for death as his lips curled into a visible snarl. He drove his arm forward, completely piercing through the Diverse's body, cleaving through it, fragments of bones chipping into Venser's arm. He huffed for a moment before he shook his head.

This is not enough. Pain for pain. Death for death. This is not an even trade... This being deserves to suffer.

His arm was littered with fragments of bone, though none penetrated very far. Venser removed his arm from the being's chest, blood sputtering from the force of removal, staining Venser's shirt, oozing upon his arm... How he reveled in its agony. A hand rose and the blade punctured again, tearing into the being's right arm, pinning it to the floor. Venser then moved to the left arm. His Flux-enhanced grip clutched at its hand, curling it into his and pressing forward, stretching the being's wrist past the point of flexibility. Tears could be heard as the flesh was peeled from bone, the styloid process protruding from the flesh of the Diverse's wrist. Venser pushed one last time, crushing the joints entirely and leaving its wrist as little more than a dangling, splintered mass.

"Do you yet live, beast?"

He asked this as blood dripped from his shoulder, eyes narrowed as he looked upon the form of the defeated. Venser allowed the djed flow to return to normal before he rose to his feet and stepped onto the Diverse's throat, twisting his foot until the flesh was clearly beginning to twist and bend, blood oozing into Venser's boot before he finally turned to Miro,

"Are you satisfied, wizard?"

The question bore no resentment, his features clearly twisted into a sated grin. Blood was spilled, the goal was accomplished. Venser had won. There was nothing else to desire. Nothing else to claim.

A perfect victory, despite the injuries.

Injuries heal, but this feeling will NEVER subside.

[Miro]

It was not quite a familiar feeling to be on this side of the field, to be the one to open the cages. In the past it was always Miro in the ring, always fighting for his life and glory. But he did not mind this, and instead, he felt it was befitting him. Truly there was nothing that could be put into a cage that he could not triumph over in the ring. Instead he got the rush of putting another's life on the line, hoping so dearly that his pitiful minion would be slain. Now he understood how Shale must have felt.

It was not that he wanted Venser to be hurt, to die or anything of the sort. A part of him wanted the man to win, but not much favor was put on him. What the ringmaster wanted to see was a glorious battle, and for one to fall and for the other to rise. To see a person discover a new part of themselves in the blood spilled. While a gladiator may leave pieces of themselves in the ring, as long as they came out alive, they took more than they left behind. To experience that rush, that battle high, it was its own reward.

Miro shushed the rambling voices in his head to achieve focus. His targets were the two combatants in the midst of combat, though this only aided his efforts. Their minds were focused, their auras brilliant, though to attune to them was difficult. The Djed channeled revealed both, though to try to split his attention was too much. The Aurist started with Venser's, by far the most prominent aura of the two, but could not maintain focus as he switched to the Diverse.

The effort was quite taxing on the mind, and it consumed more Djed than he was accustomed to in use of Auristics. Still this was not much comparatively to other magics such as Reimancy, but the strain was no less real. Though to switch between the targets was becoming easier, just a shift in his focus, a concentration on one or the other. He loved the insight it gave him, the rush they both felt. There was a surge of excitement in his own body just from the view of their auras.

And as each painful blow was struck, it was as if the focus was forced onto the harmed target. With each surge of pain, the Aurist felt a rise of excitement, so much so that he found his fist and jaw clenched tightly. It became easy to become disassociated with the physical beings, to only see two auras clashing wills. There was one thing growing ever more clear as the fight raged on, Venser would not be held down. The Diverse, its passion did not grow as its combatant's did.

Finally a victor was decided, and one overcame the other. The Diverse's aura lost color and faded to become dull and still. It did not cease entirely, but what was the creature's soul was gone. Venser's however was more brilliant than ever, and it held the dank stench of blood and sweat. The triumph of victory poured from it, enough to eclipse everything else. The wizard ceased his Djed flow and quieted his Auristic sense. A wave of vertigo hit him and it felt as if he had the wind knocked out of him, but the sensation faded over the course of a few ticks.

When composure was regained, the undead looked at the field, it was glorious. Much like any piece of art, it was all in the eye of the beholder, but this was a field in which Miro was an expert. A masterpiece of gore, if he did say so himself. And the artist who had created the scene was proud of his work. More than one would expect with the damage inflicted. It was truly surprising though, for so much more was expected of the fighter, and less of the fight.

Ender was not nearly as satisfied to see Venser and the Summon fight as his master was. At least it was over, and its purpose served. Now it was time to put it all to use. To make something of this hollow fighting, this blood spilled for the sake of seeing red. But it had satisfied the others, and that was what mattered. Now it was time for the Familiar to find his satisfaction, but this was where things became difficult. Especially with the attitude the Chained One held.

But the arrogant undead had his faults more exposed than ever. He may not have been receptive to advice, but was unshakable in his own beliefs. Any idea he would have would be perfection in his mind. This made Hypnotism all the more effective, but it was not the type of magic to work well by itself. The Irylid began his maneuver with a telepathic remark. "Not nearly as one-sided a fight as I am used to seeing, but a glorious battle nonetheless. Such a victory is worthy of praise. And spoil, much like you promised the Diverse."

It was a sly move, to insinuate that a reward was in order, it would definitely spark some reaction. Miro scoffed to himself at the remark. He could agree it was a fine fight, but the Diverse would have been rewarded only by the chance to lose his life in another fight, if one could call it that. A gladiator's reward was glory, and in the Akeldama Colosseum, a bit of gold as well could be expected. But that was not the case here. There would be no such reward, for the purpose of this test was to further one's self.

But the Familiar cared not what his master's reaction was, only what it would be. He did not hesitate to begin his hypnotic manipulations, an effortless casting while on Miro's wrist. He suggested that Venser should be rewarded, that he needed a Familiar, that a Familiar would make Venser more powerful and grateful. And then finally the sudden thought was instilled, a very specific message. Ender pushed the thought, "I will demonstrate my Summoning again and offer Venser the reward of a Familar."

The wizard smirked, unable to read anything of his partner, to sense the manipulations. He was too caught up in his own mind, and the clumsy suggestion played into his mindset perfectly. Little did the Irylid know, he was ready to follow up, but unsure how. More Hypnotism could complicate things, and he could not quite find the right words. But he quickly realized nothing more needed to be said. The Reimancer began to create more Res and prepared to cast another spell.

"I am satisfied, more than you realize. The fight, were it in my hands, would have been over quickly. But the show would not have been so exciting, for there are so few that can compete with me. You however, you, you made my heart race, my blood pump. That is quite the accomplishment, considering my heart is dead and my veins are dry. You have proven yourself, though I had my doubts. Now you will have your reward. A chance that you may never have again."

Miro expelled an amount of Res sizable enough to create a plate of similar size to the one created for Fyrden, and then transmuted it to stone. He took his supplies and sorted them for another round of painting, but this time he would use a different Summoning circle. But before he could start, Ender had a comment. "Summon from the Darkface and I will find an excellent partner for him." The plan all along, now finally it was happening.

To do such a thing the Summoner needed to craft what the book described as an Focused Circle. He started with the basic template for the circle, two rings with sixteen fonts within them. He then proceeded to create a minimal circle, and he drew a horizontal and vertical line across the circle and drew a small circle in the center. Then however he drew another circle off to the bottom left quadrant of the circle and drew lines from the four fonts that made up the minimal circle to connect to it.

The last step in creating the circle itself was to enter the coordinates for Fyrden. He entered in the correct fonts the numbers, six, seven, zero, one, nine, eight, four, seven, one, zero, four, eight, five, four, five, three. Though the wizard was not done, for he had to do a few modifications via Glyphing. He drew a simple patterning around the circle, two waved rings with intricate designs within them, but left a gap in between them. Within he created a trigger in calligraphy. The words, "On the world of Familiars divided in two, from the side of ice and Irylids will do."

[Miro]

Now ready to Summon, the Chained One grinned with confidence. He was getting quite good at this Morph, perhaps enough to cease the use of the gesture he so heavily relied on. Miro placed his thumb on the plate and quieted his mind. Thoughts of blood ran through his mind, the sight, scent, taste, the very feel of it. He concentrated his Djed and will to as fine a point on his thumb as he could manage, the point of former transmutation. It burned, stung intensely. The damaged flesh was resistant to transmutation, but an unshakable will would always triumph.

Though this was more than just a case of a mind shaping reality, something was not quite right here. The point he focused on, the more Djed he pressed, the more intense the pain. The searing burn, it blurred his mind, shook his image of the model. It began to consume him, but he could not let it. He would not let it, no matter the pain he thought he felt. The Morpher began to chant to himself silently, clench his eyes shut, block out everything but the thoughts of blood. He focused every ounce of strength and will he could into the Djed and tasked it to transmute to blood.

Miro gritted his teeth and groaned in agony as his flesh liquefied into sanguinary fluid. Ender shifted to his natural form and was enveloped by the colorful aura that emanated from the circle. The plate was now a swirling black vortex, and the Familiar sunk down into it. The wizard backed away, and for a while there was no activity. He simply waited a few chimes, still able to feel his partner on the other side. There was a specific being that the Familar sought, that much was obvious.

Finally the circle flared again with aura and Ender and a somewhat smaller Irylid rose from the murky depths of the portal. A grating sound was made and vibrant sparks shot off in each direction. The Summoner took a deep breath through his nose to catch whiff of the oily scent, his favorite phenomenon of the process. The Familiar moved from the plate, but the other Irylid stayed contained within the circle, bound by aura and leash both. Perhaps Venser would appreciate this creature.

Instead of allowing the Summon to speak for itself, Ender spoke on its behalf. "This is Remora, my spawn sibling. Before I bonded to Miro, Remora and I were a part of the same being. We split into three beings, Remora being the largest of us. A perfect candidate to become a Familiar for you Venser." Though Miro had not quite mentioned yet that this was an opportunity to bond with a partner. He folded his arms and glared at his partner with a sense of disappointment.

A silent dialogue persisted between the two Irylids, though Remora said nothing aloud. Instead the Summon waited for the questions of the wizard who might seek to bond, eager to please the potential host. Meanwhile Ender had shifted into his replicant form and retrieved something from the Glyphing bad that Miro wasn't aware was there. It was a piece of scroll parchment, though it was not blank. Already crafted was the Familiary Contract. At this point it became apparent to Miro that this had been his partner's plan all along.

[Venser Rush]

Vibrant was the existence of the victor. Venser Rush felt the elation of victory circulate through his battered body, laughter present rather than pain, the Flux still coursing its numbness to pain through. In time, Venser would feel the damage upon his shoulder and ribs, but for now he was content. Satisfaction curled his lips, his spoils earned. The Diverse was a humanoid, obviously a sentient; its body would prove an interesting canvas upon which to paint and alter. The weapon would have to be analyzed later, as well. Venser's mind began to work again in earnest, and with the return to the world, ambitions reformed.

A want to analyze the creature, its weapons, strip both of everything that they once were... Venser wished to completely dissect the Diverse's body, to learn more about this being; a being from a different world. With this knowledge, Venser could see what he needed to do to draw the most out of the Legacies that he would certainly make out of it. But, for the moment, something else directed his attention.

Miro had begun to speak.

His words were rather trivial, in the beginning. An arrogant scoff and the reiteration of his power, the marks of a being that knew his abilities and wished to lord them about. The Rush twin was unimpressed with Miro's flippant analysis of the fight, but he kept his comments to himself. He, instead, listened. Miro spoke of a reward, a bounty that was not yet present, confusion materializing upon Venser's features. Miro did not specify with the usage of his words, but rather began on some sort of project. Miro seemed to be drawing a circle, the Rush twin casting his gaze upon it, his head tilted in an unconscious show of curiosity.

The circles were, as he had noted earlier, reminiscent of Malediction, but they seemed to extend to a far different purpose. If Venser reflected upon it, it seemed as if the Undead was entering points in slots. The Rush twin could not tell if they were letters or numbers, but they seemed to correspond with one another. The Rush twin sorely wanted to know. He wanted to delve into the circle and look upon it with eyes augmented by magic, but the Rush twin did not want to aggravate himself further. He had used a fair amount of very trying magic. Overgiving was at the precipice and Venser, mind clear in the accomplishment of his objective, had no desire to push himself further.

Instead, he analyzed the circle with mundane eyes, curiosity compelling him to stare at the circle. But it was only when it transformed that Venser realized its purpose. Numbers... Letters...

Is it possible that there is a magic that can form portals to different locations?

It would not possibly occur to Venser that Miro had opened a portal to another world until he noted that Ender, who he knew to be an off-world being; A Familiar; jumped into it. Still, he could not be sure. But when a being similar to Ender returned with him, it became apparent.

Just how many magicks is this wizard privy to? The arts of Reimancy, the Flux, Hypnotism, Glyphing, and now... Evocation of some sort? Conjuring beings from other worlds?

It was simply unbelievable. Where Venser had been seeking one to teach him how to understand magic at a greater capacity... he had sought the Institute for Higher Learning. But, it was immediately apparent that Miro was just as much of an asset, if not a far greater one. The Rush twin cast his gaze upon the Familiar, Remora, a cursory glance sweeping its form. It looked to be nothing more or less than a mirror reflection of Ender, though smaller. It was indistinct. Unremarkable. Venser, if he was going to bond to a Familiar, did not want to do so with the same type that Miro had. Venser was uninterested in Ender's natural form, but in his bond with the wizard.

"I disagree, Ender. What use is it for me to be bonded to a being made of ice? I have grown to respect you, my friend, but your brother? I have no reason to bond to such a being without first knowing about it."

Up until now, Venser intently kept the Familiar out of the conversation, testing its ability to remain silent and respectful. Venser did not approve of those who spoke out of turn and without considering their thoughts. After a moment, the blonde turned to the Familiar, Remora, and asked of it a question,

"You, spawn-brother of Ender. Remora, was it? What are you? And what benefit could you be to me?"

Miro had neglected to tell Venser the name of the breed of Familiar he had, but the Rush twin was certain that there was more than one species. It was absurd to believe that a world with sentient life would only form one type of it. After all, were there not a multitude of races in Mizahar? This world was likely not so unique.

[Miro]

Ender was tense and nervous for his sibling. He wanted very much for Remora to be off of Fyrden, and Venser would be a fine host. Miro was not quite convinced though, but was eager to see Venser bond. An Irylid would be a fine partner, one that Ender knew, that could be controlled. The undead had some doubts about Venser taking such a partner though, especially after a victory like that. A slight smirk spread across the wizard's lips as he began to focus on his Djed.

The Aurist began to channel his Djed through his senses and focus on Venser's aura. Slowly he could begin to sense it, though the details were far from clear. He willed harder, expended more Djed. He wished to understand what the gladiator felt in his moment of triumph, as he looked over a potential reward. Miro did his best to attune himself to his target's aura, to see all that he had missed before.

However Ender would not be so passive. "This is the best candidate Fyrden has to offer. The greatest Irylid I know, a fine Familiar, one any person would be grateful to receive." Though he was cut off by Remonra. The potential Familiar had held his tongue for long enough. He knew that the question was directed at him, and so he must answer.

"Hush Ender. You ask what am I, what benefit could I be to you? I am Ender's best spawn sibling. I have everything he has and more, and I will obey your order. I am observant, logical and without any strife at all. I would be glad to have you as my master. I am every bit as worthy of respect as Ender."

The Chained One's smirk turned into a wide toothy grin as he looked over Venser. There was a definite shift in the mood of his aura with the remark, but the Aurist did not focus on that. Instead he gained sight of the many wounds that the gladiator had suffered. His body bled and in some areas was broken. Venser gave little hint of the intense pain his aura revealed him to be feeling.

[Venser Rush]

At the very least, Remora had its metaphorical head screwed on correctly. It did not mince words with Venser as Ender sought to. Rather, the familiar went straight into the business of convincing the wizard before it that it was worthy of being considered. The Rush twin's body and soul were pushed to their limits by the battle he had suffered through, but his mind was completely intact. Venser Rush did not fall into the ploy that this Familiar would be 'loyal.' In fact, Venser did not trust it in the slightest.

Miro and Ender were bonded together and the bond, though Venser knew not for how long, was obviously longer lasting than Venser and Miro's own association. Plenty of time to connect and understand one another. But, even then, if Venser were to judge the elder by its younger, he could do nothing but question its loyalty. Ender was devious. That much he could see in the Familiar. He had sought to protect the master the day prior, but rather than subjugate him through force, he had manipulated the wizard's mind. This set Venser both on edge and cautioned him to the spawn-brother's 'benevolent' intentions.

It was the liars that asked other to trust. It was the weak that proclaimed themselves as strong. And the fools that did not deserve respect were the ones that begged loudest to be admired. Weaklings and incompetents parading about in their desire to find a higher purpose in their existence. A hollow pit that they themselves filled with garbage. These were the people who expected to float in Ravok's lake while their souls were tainted with the irrefutable rot of interior decay.

It was disgusting.

The Rush twin decided that he wanted nothing to do with the Irylid that Ender had brought forth. It would be a stain upon the Rush twin's soul to bond with such a disgusting being. No, he would not subject himself to a life with such a thing. Venser shook his head twice before he looked upon the Irylid with a clear, distinct gaze. The blonde parted his lips to reply,

"Those who lack strife do not make it appoint to announce such a thing, spawn-sibling. I asked of you how you could benefit me in this partnership, not to list your credentials and demand respect that you clearly do not deserve. Your hypocrisy is stated in your fourth sentence. You are neither Ender's better nor have you followed my orders. Leave, I will not bond with you."

The Rush twin turned to face Ender, setting his gaze upon the reflective orb that was the larger and clearly more powerful Irylid,

"Do you know of any others, Ender? One with a greater leash upon their words? I have no desire to bond with a Familiar that is less intelligent than I am."

Venser was picky, but he had faith that Ender would deliver.