(Round Two, Zorolo) Let's Play Warriors in the Vershaniskarn Library.

[P.]

OoC: I hope this timing is to your liking, Z. Let us call each other by our first-letters.

BiC: The carcass of walls reached to the sky. They were broken and tormented, slick with dust and moss. Chaotic floors jumped from the walls, floors supported by pillars and arms of con concrete. However, the sad architecture had not survived. Life and gravity had not been merciful. The canopy of blue was stretched high above, sodden with clouds, bright with joy. The moon could be seen, an alabaster crucible in the firmament. The sun held back no fury.

The air was thick and cool. Motes of dust lanced through the air, their particles scattered and infrequent. Great maws of windows gaped down at the library, casting long darkness with their amber gaze. Bookshelves weighted by ancient tomes loomed upwardly. Death-pale walls framed the repository. There was no respite from the unquiet; silence permeated the air.

Sighing winds wound through the undergrowth that had invaded the building. Threads of zephyr churned through the atmosphere.

Far off, an Angel Contemplatively gazed upon the hybrid existence of tree and stone, forest and construction. Dilapidated structures framed the figure, its silhouette thin but strong, wings spewing forth from the spine. Its shadow was long in the new sun. In one taut arm hung an elliptical shield. It was wooden, with a circumference of sharpened, blood-rusted blade. Thin and long fingers grasped the handle. The footsteps of the thing were slow and heavy; they too were bloody and worn. Monotonous shades of hair swayed down over his face, lustrous and bedraggled. Tired and bloodshot eyes gazed out from under heavy lids; he was quavering. His face was sullen and determined. He had come to this place for a purpose.

With some deeply hidden vehemence, the paragon leapt upwards, coming to rest on a thick branch, curling his toes around it for grip. From his vantage point, he could see the ghoulish forms of trees bent by gales and the concrete cadaver that all amalgamated into a crag of bookshelves and shattered geometry. It was the Vershaniskarn Library. Its lichen-riddled arches and eaves slumped outwards and joined with other buildings, making it difficult to see where the city stopped and the library began.

As Timaeus mulled over what he could see, he realized that white-hot, invisible strands of aether were intruding on the real-space, extending from the heart of the Library. He followed the energy.

Such an exploit took him through passages small and spacious, crammed and littered. Many times he stumbled across the shadows of rat-demons or night-dwelling beasts. However, he eventually came to a halt.

Before him stood the opened gates to the courtyard before the Library. Walking through, he entered a sweet honey-scent that wafted around and through him, in and out of what he knew to be real. Beautiful grass smothered the earth, perfect, without flaw. A statue of cherubs that spewed forth unpolluted water dominated the centre, joyful faces gazing into the firmament.

Without knowing, Timaeus had walked to the doors of the building. They were steel, adorned with jet and gold. He pushed them open.

Grabbing the first book he saw, he searched the building until he found a desk. It was solitary and sodden with papers that he disposed of as he sat down on the comfortable leather chair. He scrutinized his book (a brown hardcover), eyes dancing across the white-wash paper. After some time, he carefully shut the book and laid it to rest on one of the many shelves. As he sauntered across the marble towards another shelf, he spared a glance at the misty panes of glass beside him. Cracks traced across their surfaces in complex patterns like a cobweb. He reached his destination, and reached for another dust-covered book. Gently, he laid it on the floor, open. Timaeus sat down and crossed his legs. The Demon flicked through the pages, but what he was in search of was not within the covers of this book, which he put to rest in the shelf where it had come from.

In a slovenly motion, He raised his arms above his head, yawned. He rubbed his fingers through the chasms about his fretted sockets. Abruptly, he snapped into a position of alertness. Something had sounded in the floor above.

Over dirt and filth and marble, Timaeus found his way to a broken staircase. He had not the space to lift his wings and ascend quickly. After pendulously climbing up the stairs, wary of the lack of some steps, he inspected the higher, damper floors of the Vershaniskarn Library.

[Zorolo]

The world was quiet. So quiet. In this place, even the sound of a pin dropping wouldn't likely be obscured by anything. Not a sound in the world seemed to enter or leave this place. However, a footstep broke the near perfect silence and replaced it with a small echo that ran down the empty halls. Next, a bit of chuckling echoed into the empty corridors of the library as a figure marched in, his hands hanging at his sides and his head looking forwards.

The chuckling continued and echoed down the shelves upon shelves of books as the figure walked past the useless literature. His search had brought him here for only one thing. He could feel it, he was so close, and yet so far. Something about this magic that lived in the building felt... different. It wasn't the same as the magic of the Dome. This place seemed almost... something akin to sinister to the wandering man.

"Why did I come here?" the red haired man asked as he stopped moving and looked at the books upon their shelves. Zorlo told me that since I couldn't find what I was looking for in the Dome to come here. However... this place... something doesn't feel right. Something... I don't know, but...

A creak from the floor below made Zachary Leos craned his head downwards at the floor boards and crossed his arms. "Someone else, huh? Unfortunate for them. I'm not in the mood to be disturbed," the Ice Elemental stated as he walked over towards a book shelf and scanned it blankly. Nothing came of interest and the red haired warrior stopped his hand far to the right of his body, almost as if it were trapped by something.

Some force seemed to have stopped the warrior's hand, and the ice innate smiled as he looked at the book. "Well now, this is rather interesting," he told himself as he stared at the book his hand had stopped over. "Definitely interesting," the ice mage said as he placed his hand on the book and the book froze. With a slight press, the book was in shards on the ground. "The Gypsy Spirits and Z won't be taking any part in my finding this," Zachary stated bluntly as he walked away from the bookshelf he stood before.

I don't care what it takes. I'll find the Realm of Ice by myself no matter what. Zorlo and Cadenza can't stop leading me through life. I need to make my own way in life, devoid of outside forces. Still, even with that decree, Zachary stopped. He took a fierce step forwards, and the force of his foot slamming down nearly broke the wooden beam beneath him. Something almost too small for the eye to see fell from the beam, along with a very loud creak.

Beneath the ice innate, something began to stir. "Well, damn, I've accidently let whoever else is here know that I'm here. Maybe it'll be someone interesting," the ice innate stated as he listened to a figure climb the spiral staircase and emerge from floor below. "Welcome," Zachary stated as he smirked as he looked at the man. "Sorry to bother ya, but I've got something to find here. Get in my way... and well... it won't be pleasant," the youth stated as the air began to cool. "No one will get in my way!"

OoC: Yeah, and here is my opening, P. Let's get started.

[P.]

OoC: Ta-da.

BiC: The Demon had not noticed the boy enter, and had continued to muse over his books. The intruder had, however, given himself away.

When Timaeus laid eyes on the warrior, he felt something within him unlock. His bloodlust was unleashed in him, sailing around wildly. He went dizzy with the rush. Hew knew that a battle was going to take place.

He did not pay too much attention to what the human said, but he got the gist of it, and smiled at the comment. The furious red hair of what Timaeus knew to be an opponent caught his eyes instantly. He felt the chill emanating from the being, and he chuckled. The Angel looked his foe over, noticing the sword sheathed at his side. He also noticed the boy’s cocky demeanor, young face.

“Greetings, infant. I would like to welcome you to the Vershaniskarn Library.” Timaeus brushed his hair aside, allowing him to gaze with both eyes. “I am Timaeus, the Searcher.”

And after that, nothing had to be said. Not even a glance. They both knew that they were going to fight. And in answer to their chaws, they clashed together. Blade slide along shield, blood sung, darkness clashed with ice, fire mixed with the air.

Timaeus could taste the battle in his mind. He could taste the movements of the other warrior, the swift movements that dodged the Searcher’s onslaught. He tasted the adrenaline that fuelled the magic lancing between them.

Minutes, or hours, or no time at all, elapsed as the two praised themselves for their efforts. The flurry of technique, swoops, blade and shield filled Timaeus’ gut.

Then they stepped back and looked at themselves; neither had sustained any injuries. Timaeus made the first move, tossing a bookshelf and its contents. He jumped down to the level below. He could not see the redhead in the explosion of parchment, but he did feel the cold slice of a blade down his back. Under his robes, a hand was severed, and it hit the floor with a spasm and a thunk. The Elemental stared at the twitching limb for a second, and then thrust his sword forward. Timaeus’ arm was flung up by instinct to deflect the stab, which was followed by several icy missiles lodging themselves in the wood.

Timaeus reappeared several feet away, atop a ledge off books. “Haah! I loooove that trick. And you were confused by it, weren’t you?!” Timaeus howled with laughter, barely constraining himself, the image of the human’s expression repeating itself in his mind.

The deed was returned by the blunt of the icy blade smashing into Timaeus’ face. He lost his balance – as did the books upon which he stood – and fell backwards, connecting with the ground in a kaleidoscope of paper, blood and cursing.

Abruptly, Timaeus appeared beside his punching bag, and landed a fist in the child’s cheek. The movement of the boy hurtling through the air and bouncing as he hit the ground appeared in slow motion for Timaeus. Without a twitch, he spoke:

“Let’s dance, pretty boy.”

[Zorolo]

Silence returned to the world. Cold, icy silence set in as Zachary looked at his foe. This other mage was no pushover that was without a doubt. Still, this guy was slowly wearing out his stead with the ice innate. Another mage who used a shield as a weapon. Strangest weapon the ice warrior had seen to date, but hell, the red haired fighter supposed it could be strange.

Ice magic laced up and down the ice mage's fingers as he kept his eyes on the shield wielder, thinking silently to himself as he lowered his sword. Don't let him get you mad. Don't let him get to you. He's an idiot. Don't play along. Don't give into his taunts. Keep yourself level. a voice repeated these lines several times each to the warrior as he stared at the man.

So far, a punch was all that guy had shown for his hard work, however, the strange abilities this guy had made it a bit hard to injure him. He was full of himself, to a point even Zachary didn't like, and the warrior steadied himself and prepared to take his next offensive. A strange calm had swept over Zachary as he grasped his sword in both of his hands and closed his eyes, finding whatever calm he held in himself.

"Let's dance, pretty boy!"

The words echoed into the ice mage's ears and his eyebrow twitched. Whatever calmness he had vanished in that moment and Zachary's eyes opened, anger filled the ice fighter and he rushed forwards, brandishing his blade violently. The next series of events are questionable as to what happened, but what is certain is that Zachary doesn't recall them.

Time elapsed, but as to how long, who can truly say for certain aside from his foe. All the red haired boy knew was what he felt when he came to. Blood dripped from the few cuts he had acquired between his shoulder and collar bone where flesh had been sliced. Aside from that, other small cuts had formed along Zachary's arms and chest, along with one or two twinging cuts on his back. The Ice Elemental looked around and saw the massive devastation that had occurred while he blacked out that covered the library.

Book shelves laid in splinters across the floor, along with ash and ice formed in patches in different spots along the floor. The ice warrior was breathing heavily as he lifted his sword up and rested on his shoulder, looking for his foe. Nowhere to be seen. Had he truly killed that guy?

Doubtful. Odds are he snuck away somewhere. Well, no sense in finding him. If I'm this banged up, I wonder how well he walked away. Although I've never gotten so mad to black out before. Still, I guess having my peaceful world smashed does that to ya. Zachary began to walk towards the exit. If he had defeated that guy, then leaving worked, if not, then that guy would attack. All in all, the Ice Elemental kinda hoped for the second.

[P.]

The attack that this ice mage had put forth was impressive. Timaeus found some respect for this new foe, and snickered as he felt the tears in his robes, the feathers on the floor. Amidst the turmoil, the flaming bookshelves, the icy air, Timaeus had slid away to the roof of the Library.

With amused eyes he watched the human stride into the yard. A millisecond later he was upon the infant, brandishing a fiery broadsword. Arcs of flame traced through the air, echoes of the fight. Winds of aether picked up quickly, tossing Timaeus’ hair in his eyes. Although his vision was now obscured with energy and blood and hair, his remaining faculties were taut and alert.

Neither of the fighters faltered, neither fell; they tore at each other’s flesh with anything they had in their possession. They breathed heavily, staggered about, but they were fierce in their movements. Then there were fragments of granite in the air, temporary platforms for the battle to carry itself out on before being transferred to another.

The air stilled. Grass tore beneath feet. The fight stopped. The human panted. Blood dripped from Timaeus’ fingers and face. Crimson rivulets danced in the air for a few moments, before lacing themselves across the ground. The world seemed more than terrestrial with the power that coursed through every particle.

“C’mon,” Timaeus gasped, cracking the silence, “don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got.”

The boy’s lips moved, creating some inaudible splinter of noise.

“Pardon?” Timaeus walked forward slowly. “I didn’t quite get that. Care to repeat it?” Timaeus cackled as he stood toe-to-toe with his toy. “I don’t know what you said, and I know you won’t say it again.” Timaeus licked his lips. “But I’ll tell you what I said.” A drip of blood flashed from the tip of the Demon’s nose. “Come on!”

And the fight resumed. Timaeus walked backwards, his sword glancing of the human’s. They continued to clash blades up the steps and through the door, into the Library. The two were completely resolute, predicting the moves of the other. No blows were landed, but Timaeus felt the strain, and it fuelled him.

“You didn’t introduce yourself, boy.” Timaeus lashed out with Jeika, was blocked.

“Zachary Leos,” the boy said, striking his sword across Timaeus’ arm.

“Well, Zachary,” whispered the Demon, flipping over Zachary’s head. “Let’s play warriors, shall we?”

The two were on either sides of the Library, across a gap in the floor. They both laughed, before Timaeus sent shockwaves of black fire in all directions. Ink was melted and evaporated, paper was incinerated, shelves were torn from their resting places, stone was flung wildly about.

Silence returned once more. Flames burnt solitarily at random places in the bookscape. Timaeus realized that he had missed Zachary completely. All within a radius of the boy was completely untouched, and the ravaged paths streaked around him in circles.

The child flailed his sword through the air, and ripples of incandescent blue were launched forth. Defending with bare wood, Jeika barely held back the magic. Reinforcing his weapon with his own power, Timaeus groaned and leaned forward into the blast. Luminous streams wound through the air, warping reality; something clicked. Timaeus was thrown, along with Zachary and the entire Vershaniskarn Library, into the air.

[Zorolo]

The upward force of gravity was mind numbing at that moment. Everything seemed to have stopped for a brief second as the whole building, warriors and all, were launched into the air. The shift of gravity forced the Ice Elemental to his knees, and the ice mage watched his foe, trying to not be taken by surprise. Even so, in this case, there were very few people that wouldn't be taken by surprise. The one pressing figure that appeared to the ice innate was, in fact, his associate, Zorlo.

Knowing Z, he'd probably be smiling as this thing and his foe shot into the air, using that weird power of his to not be trapped by gravity again the ground. That's kind of annoying to think about, but still, the one edge here is that I'm not the only person stuck, the ice warrior thought to himself as he watched the cloaked man beginning to rise from his knee. Or maybe it is just me that can't move under these circumstances. Still... if I don't move, I'm going to wind up being killed. Well, that would-

Zachary's thought was frozen as the building stopped suddenly and the red haired boy's body was thrown into the ceiling with a very loud crash. Less than a second later, the swordsman's body fell back to the ground, and pain filled moans left his mouth as he slowly tried to stand up. Pain rushed through the ice innate's body as he grabbed his sword and raised the weapon shakily. This fight was about to get a good deal more difficult. Still, there was a chance to counter attack, and now was that chance.

The Ice Elemental hefted his sword over his shoulder, having a bit of trouble breathing. Oxygen was scarce at this altitude, something the ice innate knew from spending time in the mountains. Still, no matter what the warrior did, he couldn't shake the fact his body weakened. The main, and initial, drawback to this height was the scarcity of oxygen. Still, the tide had turned slightly in Zachary's favor. Mostly because water molecules were much more plentiful up here.

With a bit of effort, the ice innate swung his blade down, releasing a condensed blade of pure ice magic from the edge of the blade as the sword moved in a vertical arc. The blade of magical energy rushed forwards quickly as Zachary smirked. "Frost Wave!" he yelled as he rushed forwards after the wave, only to stumble into a damaged floor board and have his leg crash into a lower floor. The ice mage worked quickly, stabbing his sword into the floor and bracing himself with his other foot to prevent his body from falling. Still, that had been close.

As the ice innate righted himself, he looked towards where his foe had been and noticed a large cut frozen in a book shelf, but no foe. Zachary steadied himself as he stood up, feeling a bit dizzy. Then again, that's what air deprivation does to a person. I don't know if this is effecting that guy or not, but I'll find out soon, Zachary told himself as he took his sword in both of his hands and kept ready to defend himself. He couldn't be taken by surprise. Not under these circumstances.