Extence, Vermilia

[Yurian]

A city standing near the Left Sea, Extence is characterized especially by the grand concrete wall that surrounds it. Despite the overabundance of guards and military officials that dot the variety of areas - ports, community centers, business buildings, even in living areas - the city is usually quiet.

The ruling aristocratic family is the Vaughn Alignment, characterized by their flags embroidered with a little red dragon. Supporting houses of various other aristocratic families surround the large Vaughn Estate, a grand and sprawling building that extends not only horizontally but vertically as if reaching towards the skies. Behind the structure is a dome stadium, the center which hosts the yearly Extence Tournament.

[Yurian]

Soren

The neat but intricately written signature was embroidered carefully on a textured yellow paper. A hand was held steadily above it, the pale but meticulously cleaned fingers gripping a calligrapher's brush. Suddenly, the once still hand squashed into the paper; a miniature explosion of ink splattered from the wetted brush and began soaking the paper into blackness. Somewhere near, a soft light source reflected onto the spilled droplets of ink; the liquid, though seemingly black in thickness, looked like wine, or blood, as it caught the white light.

The hand shook from laughter, and the brush was dropped into the messy pool of liquid. It was not a cruel or evil-bearing laugh, but rather a playful and crazy one. The owner of the hands stood up, before roughly and violently crushing the yellow paper in his now stained hands. He threw the wad of trash across the room, where it bounced lightly against the opposite wall before tumbling onto the carpeted floor.

Although the mood remained childishly playful, the person began banging his clenched fists onto the dark wooden desk.

[Yurian]

The soft but nauseating morning light glowed in Soren's face as he stared down at his now drenched working surface. He was tired of his lifestyle, one where similar things just came, happened, went, and came again. Aside from the usual naughty acts he would play upon the house keepers, nothing nearby was interesting to him. He wanted to go somewhere new and refreshing, where he could change and become part of things.

Perhaps he was a selfish greedy brat, but as the descendant to the Vaughn household, and consequently the city of Extence, he didn't have so easy a life because of his wealth.

The Extence Tournament would be on its way in just several days, and although Soren felt somewhat excited at seeing the several hundred participants, he wished something bigger - something catastrophic - would happen.

[Yurian]

Soft light opened up upon the city - seemingly like anyday before and anyday after. However, today was the day before the Extence Tournament, and an excited but tense buzz ran through the streets. The giant stadium behind the Vaughn Estate was alive with preparations and setup for the competition.

It was also rumored that Central Monarch Waan would be appearing to view the competition as well.

For Soren, this information made him at least some what excited to attend the Tournament. He would be able to see some one who had opportunities to travel outside of Vermilia and even The Red Unity. The prospect of being a politician like Waan somewhat excited him because of the traveling opportunities.

Standing in the private training grounds of the Vaughn Estate, Soren had no need to practice today. After long periods of rigorous work, he needed the rest to recuperate for the tournament.

"Hi Vaughn!"

It was Eris, his close friend and fellow competitor in the Extence Tournament. She was skinny and short, but held some sort of pleasant elegance to her movements. She was also quite the opposite of her male friend: studious, conservative, and cordial to a point of sometimes appearing timid.

"Hi Eris," Soren returned with a grin. The two stood next to each other, not really doing anything except contemplating the excitement that would follow up tomorrow.

"You know Waan is coming here," Eris pointed out.

"Yeah."

"He was in the newspaper this morning with Elexander. Apparently they're continuing the growing ties between Red and Gurei."

Soren raised his eyebrows with an "Oh?", trying to sound as if he just missed this morning's newspaper by chance. His father often reprimanded him for this aspect, telling him that a good leader is one that is informed. Why couldn't Eris become the next Monarch of Extence?

Eris pushed him lightly on the shoulder, but instead sent Soren reeling off unbalanced. "Ah Sorry!" she rushed in suddenly, blushing in embarassment.

"It's okay," Soren laughed. He found Eris to be amusingly awkward sometimes, and thought himself terrible for thinking that way. But she was still his best friend - since many years ago - and for this he would probably give his life to her. Or at least a large portion of it.

[Yurian]

Soren couldn't stop tapping his fingers on the chair arm. He didn't want to be nervous - and he thought himself no reason to be - but he was still excited. His body was tense and upright like the edge of a rectangle. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead and on his body.

The tournament day had come, bringing with it bright day light and a deafening crowd. Over several thousand viewers had come to watch the competition, while news reporters and journalists brought in transmitters to show the spectacle at home. The stadium was a roar of excitement and over crowdedness.

"Let us please stand to the Gracious Central Monarch Waan!" a voice boomed across the stadium. As the competitors were isolated in underground training areas beneath the ground floor of the arena, Soren could only imagine the silence as Waan stood up to greet the spectators.

"Welcome to the 296th Extence Tournament!" Waan commanded confidently. "It is my great pleasure to be attending this bonding competition. I wish the best of ability to today's competitors. May Vermilia see them as the future of not only The Red Unity, but greater peace throughout Second Earth!"

The crowd cheered in ignorant excitement, before the Vermilian Anthem officially began the Tournament. Soren put his hands behind him unconciously to the song. His mind was tense and brain dead; his eyes unfocused. Before he knew it, an announcement was coming over his ears, and he sat back down. Beside him, the other competitors seemed just as tense as he was.

"Competitors of the 296th Extence Tournament in the year 4331 A.A.D.: the following are the strictured rules of conduct within the Tournament. As you should know them already, I shall reiterate them to ensure fair play:
1) As a competitor in the Tournament, you represent the ideal of Vermilian citizens and models of The Red Unity.
2) As opponents to your fellow Vermilian citizens, you will respect them interminably.
3) As persons, you will follow fair conduct, meaning: no exterior support, no killing, no torturing, and no exiting the Arena areas.
4) As individuals, you will hold it to yourself in knowing your limits and accepting them.
5) When an opponent is deemed unconcious or unable to proceed, the other shall be proclaimed the winner and proceed to the next round.
6) There will be three events total with 64 combatants.
7) Events are to proceed on a timely manner. Late arrivals by combatants will not be accepted.
8) Combatants not competing at a given moment are to remain within the isolated training areas provided below the arena. Witness of current events by currently non competing combatants is strictly prohibited; should it happen, that so combatant shall be immediately disqualified.
9) The four winners of the Extence Tournament shall proceed to the Vermilian Contest at Saitules.
10) As a participant..."

Soren's mind drifted off. He looked again at the other combatants. They seemed quite nervous as well, although he felt himself to be the most anxious of them all.

"21) By participating in the Tournament, you have pledged yourself to follow the rules.
And so let the Tournament begin!"

The crowd screamed in excitement again. Soren cursed their luckiness for not having to bear this situation.

"For the First Event's First Round, please welcome Kastor Alister and Victoria Silas!"

Soren looked over, and saw a girl stand up before leaving the room. Apparently, although the combatants did not know who they were competing against, they were separated into two areas. So Soren's opponent wasn't in this training area.

Everybody else was quiet, save for a couple groups of friends who just happened to know each other. Eris was in the other training area.

Forcing himself to stand up, Soren moved towards the edge of the training area. He didn't feel like preparing himself although he felt he should. It would just be a matter of time before his turn would arrive.

[Yurian]

"Soren Vaughn and Anthony Hana!"

The words seemed to spell out in his mind like a brush on paper. It had seemed just as if a moment ago Soren had decided to sit next to the wall. Looking up, he stared blankly at the attendant outside of the training grounds.

"Soren Vaughn?"

He hastily got up and walked out the door. Inside his coat the glass bottles clinked around. He could feel the lenghth of his calligrapher's brush against his chest. All the other attendants seemed to be watching him intently.

"Hey, just relax," a hand smacked him reassuringly on the back. It was his coach, a large gaunt man with a genuine smile of encouragement on his face.

"Yeah." Yeah...sure. Although the white washed walls of his surroundings seemed to suddenly interest him as he neared the arena gate, each step he took was instantly forgotten as excitement and nervousness increasingly overwhelmed him. Then it was bright light. Bright light and a deafening crowd of excited onlookers. He felt like a flea in front of the thousands of spectators.

What is a flea in millions of fleas? What is really a flea? Why does a flea need to -

"Gentlemen!" Opposite him he could vaguely see the other contestant. Asides from seeing dark hair and a lightly colored uniform, Soren couldn't distinguish any other details. The sun was too dizzying, or the crowd too nauseating, or the dust of the arena too blinding, or his own dang nervousness too blurry.

"Gentlemen," the referee shouted. The voice blared across the stadium as the crowd forced down its noise to hear. "As stated in the rules, this match has an unlimited time limit until one opponent is knocked out or unable to continue. Are you ready?"

Soren nodded forcefully. He could feel his brain knock against his skull as his head rolled about like an ill-performed puppet.

"Please shake hands, and the match will proceed."

Just do it damn it.

His eyes cleared for a moment as he forced himself into concentration. A curtain seemed to clear away from his vision as he walked forcefully to meet his opponent. Despite that, his legs still felt awkward and his eyes tired, as if he had just awoken from a dream.

[Yurian]

The eyes he saw in front of him were confidant but friendly. Soren shook Anthony's gloved hand in a tense grip, before nodding in respect. Asides from noticing the dark mat of hair and the nearly white colored jump suit the other opponent wore, Soren couldn't pin point any other hints as to the opponent's abilities. The glove, however, felt somewhat strange, as if the palm was textured in some method.

The referee nodded amid the silence of the crowd. The two combatants stepped back from each other, and Soren watched as his opposite readied himself into something of a cat-like stance. The hands twitched as the fingers seemed to grip some invisible ball. The legs were bent but ready, as if ready to snare in a runaway lab rat.

"Begin!" the referee shouted, raising his hands to welcome in the burst of din from the crowd.

"You're too slow," a voice whispered from the sky. In front of him, the cat-like figure was gone. Soren immediately pulled out the calligrapher's brush and a glass vile of black ink, looking frantically for his opponent. His heart just began to accelerate before the voice's movement reached his back.

He flipped around behind him but it seemed to late as the white flash rushed in front of him. He could sense something of a victorious smile as time seemed to slow.

Soren wheezed in pain as the blood bubbled out from slash of his upper chest. He had dodged the intended one hit finishing strike but still received the edge of the attack. Luckily, the leather shin coat, though superficially torn, still managed to hold in the glass vials and cards. In front of him was the displeased cat, its gloved hands glowing blades seemingly created of light. The figure disappeared again, and Soren rushed off in a burst of speed to negate the opponent's strategy.

A tunnel like vision formed in front of him, and Soren knew that the opponent was probably experiencing the same effect. At such high speeds, persons engaged in celerity lost much of the detail around them save for the path directly ahead of them. It was a risky albeit simple maneuver.

Desperately looking for some sign of the opponent, Soren suddenly stopped, placing his back against the arena wall. In front of him was the great expanse of the arena - the opponent was somewhere in front of him. It was just a matter of isolating him now.

[Yurian]

OOC: Here's what the Chinese character of wind looks like:
http://www.buy-utah.com/images/graphics/FengShuisymbol.jpg
According to the number marked in parentheses, here's what the Chinese characters 'Metal' (1) and 'Fire' (4) look like:
http://www.chinese-symbols.com/chinese-symbols/f/five%20elements%20(metal,%20wood,%20water,%20fire, %20earth).gif

Back in Character:

Soren put the glass vial back into his coat pocket, replacing it with a neatly packed handful of calligraphy cards. Holding them at arms length in front of him, he closed his eyes, concentrating upon the manifestation of the invisible antimatter into the visible matter.

After opening his eyes his pupils flared as he pulled out the front card and threw it up into the air. On top of it was embroidered the simplistic but elegant Chinese character of 'wind'. As the thing fluttered briefly into the air, it dissappeared into nothingness before the air behind Soren begin to fluster into a rage of thick air.

Letting the remaining cards - each written with the Chinese character 'fire' - release from his hands, he watched as they tumbled across the arena before individually bursting into a bright pillar of red fire. The sentinels of flames swirled and danced, fueled even stronger by the gust of wind behind them. Soren squinted as the heat reached his face.

He remembered the first time he had tried manifesting such a seemingly commonplace element from 'nothing' into 'something'. Scrawling and writing such a simple term of 'fire' so many times with his own blood - after each day he was so nauseated and weak that he was afraid he might pass out. Like painting the object, writing it and finding its 'essence' was just as tedious yet revelational as soon as it was accomplished. Soon enough, each progressive element or energy became easier and easier to accomplish. From wind, to earth, to metal, to wood - the task of finding each of these objects' essence became simpler to grasp.

The opponent had stopped far off on the other side of the arena. The pillars of fire seemed to bend towards him - towards his glowing blades - as if they were being sucked into the densely concentrated amount of raw energy. Soren smiled - whether in relief or because of his accomplishment in finding out the enemy position.

Apparently, the opponent's 'claws' were composed of visible light so dense and so concentrated that they gained a tangible quality still capable of changing in shape and length. As they sucked in more light, the glowing blades shown even brighter until the exact knowledge of their shape was lost in the semi-blindness.

Not waiting for a moment to be isolated, the cat zig zagged through the fire guardians. Although the sentinels seemed to lean towards his location, his motion became a blur of light as he settled in for the second strike.

Soren took the calligrapher's brush, grimacing in pain as he smeared the bristle on the already clotting chest wound. His arm whipped around in front of him as the streaks of blood seemed to float in the air before transforming into a composition of chromed needles.

[Yurian]

OOC: Please excuse the fact that my Chinese is pretty terrible, and that I don't know how to write every character that I introduce.

Back in Character:
The finger length missiles pinned towards the oppponent, releasing themselves in short flares of speed. Despite that, the opponent was too quick, leaving the needles to crash into the dust or to shrivel up in the fires. Soren grimaced, knowing full well that should the opponent get near him again, he would be at a great disadvantage.

As the remaining needles sped uselessly towards the opponent, the pillars of flame and the once raging wind began to calm down. Utilizing catharsis - the pupils of his eyes seemed almost to envelop his irises - Soren could see his opponent fast moving towards him.

Shit!

Blades of white light seemed to fly out straight towards him. A loud deafening crack ensued as Soren summoned a lightning bolt to counter against the knives. He had hastily written the 'lightning' character in front of him; the blood script swiveled and rippled as it sent out a constant stream of energy to counter the barrage of proton blades.

As the two opponents were immobilized - standing opposite each other, their summoning energy spilling out between them - it would only be a matter of strength to decide the winner. White light and blue thunder flashed through the stadium as the middle ground seemed to illuminate in a wavering state of uncertainty.

[Yurian]

The deafening sound of crashing energy boomed and cracked throughout the stadium. In front of him, Soren could literally see nothing save for the continual flashes of light. He immediately regretted his decision to use this element - this destructive but uncontrollable force. He just found it too difficult to maneuver; he could feel it draining his body.

There was no doubt, however, that the opponent was feeling the same thing. Neither could advance with this push-pull game. Not only would it be useless and time consuming, but also disastrous for the preceding competitions.

Not waiting a moment for his opponent to ready himself, Soren pulled out a card from his coat and held it in front of him. As the lightning shriveled to nothing, he could literally see the opponent's white light advance towards him like a wall of blinding emptiness.

Then a wall of stone rose up in front of him and he was cast in a dizzying shadow. Dust exploded as a deafening cracking sound hit the organic shield. The arena floor seemed to tip, and Soren knew the ground was following up with pinnacles of solid earth. The only way Hana could go was up.

Jumping up just as the ground began to break underneath him, Soren saw through the dust the cat-like figure, its claws still shining light a star in an empty night. A blood script formed in front of Soren as lightning expelled from its center. The cat seemed to realize its predicament, but it was too late.

As the cracking sound silenced to nothing, Soren suddenly felt a pang of fatigue overwhelm him. He felt as if he was floating as he landed onto the stone pinnacle. His eyes blurred as he saw his hands reach down to grasp the dusty earth. Somewhere, a voice was heralding a victory. Then it was blackness. Then nothingness.

[Yurian]

"Isn't it beautiful?"

The woman in front turned around suddenly. And smiled.

Behind her was the moon, blurry but still shining bright through the ambient pollution. They were on the top of the tallest building - they were on top of the world, young but weighted down by the truth of the planet.

"Yeah," a soft voice came out, kind but melancholy. The woman walked over, holding up her hands to a face. Something felt distantly warm. She let go and put her hands by her side. The cold air and the bustling sound and the bright empty blue lights of the city melted in again.

Darkness.

[Yurian]

Her hair floated on her sleeping eyes, and her arms nestled underneath the pillow to support her head. She looked peaceful in this softly lit bed. Worries seemed to float away, existing only in word, but still waiting on the horizon.

A pang of guilt and grief took over. It felt like - it felt exactly like betrayal, although the decision had already been agreed upon. There was a thought - a guilty wonder if she felt regretful about her decision. Or worse, if I - I? - seemed crushed everytime I looked at her. Who was I?

Darkness.

[Yurian]

Looking out of the window - out of the window in a room barely wide enough to sit in and barely tall enough to stand in - I could see the stars and the dust and the rocks floating in the empty blackness. If I stared long enough, they seemed to be drifting by ever so slowly, not thinking and not existing for any particular reason. Why were they there? Why did they exist? They were something so ethereal and beautiful. But meaningless.

Why did I exist?

I found that question to be so difficult to answer. Especially now that she's gone - transformed. Transformed into something I would never be able to see or experience or feel.

"FUCK!" I punched the thin metal wall, leaving my fist embedded into the now dented surface. I stared angrily at the ground, standing there motionless, unmoving, for no reason, exsiting, but not existing. Despite that, I felt tense and anguished. I wanted something that would never be found.

The bustle of sounds outside of the closed room still went on. Some children ran by, laughing and screaming in ignorant bliss. I realized that our existence on this ship was meaningless; all we did was eat, sleep, and work in this cramped vessel for a future that would arrive long after we had been laid to rest in a soil we would never step on.

How could those others stand living when they basically were torn in half? How can someone live when half of them is...dead? Is it just me? Am I the only one feeling this way?!

I want to kill someone. Tear them in half. Rip them into shreds.

Darkness.

[Yurian]

Soft light. Soft white light, gentle but blinding.

Soren blinked for a moment, trying to see through the blurred whiteness. Sitting up, he found himself in a small enclosed hospital room. The windows were drawn open, letting in the soft morning light. Some birds flew by, chirping and singing in carefree cheerfulness.

Despite the comfortable bed, he felt uncomfortable and restless. He felt as if he had awoken from a dark dream. He felt as if he was pushed off a cliff to stay dangling above a dark emptiness.

Soren pulled the blanket off of him and swung his legs over onto the floor. Underneath the hospital gown, his chest was tightly bandaged. Although the battle felt as if it had ended long ago, his forehead was still sweating, and his hair uncomfortably itchy.

"Soren?" The door opened, and a girl walked in. And smiled.

"Eris?"

"I'm glad you're okay. You've honestly been sleeping for over a day!"

"Oh..." Something felt wrong. It seemed as if things were just too 'happy'.

"You won!" Eris exclaimed. She smiled at him, waiting for some sort of expression that never seemed to come. "It was close because you fainted right after Hana was knocked out, but you still won!" She waited again, but nothing seemed to happen.

"What about you?" Soren inquired. His blurted out uncontrollably, as if his voice was just being used after a period of dumbness. He frowned.

"I made it to the Vermilian Contest as well." She smiled, and this time Soren returned it with a somewhat forced but genuine grin of comraderie. "Central Monarch Waan came here too to congratulate your prowess, but you were still asleep."

"Oh," Soren replied with a slightly surpised look on his face. For a moment he imagined what he would have said if he wasn't unconcious.

"Coach said to stay in bed to recover for several days. Because The Contest is in several weeks, he says we should practice in preparation as well."

"Mm."

"Do you want some water?" Eris walked over to the dresser opposite the bed to pour a cup of water. Soren nodded to himself, realizing that he was quite thirsty.

Although the dreading feeling had passed, Soren still felt somewhat tense with the relaxed mood. He looked at Eris - carefree, kind, happy - and suddenly she seemed so vulnerable and weak. He felt like he wanted to protect her from something, although he couldn't think what.

[Yurian]

Since she was young, she always thought she was an actress in a play. The world around her was the stage; the people around her, other actors and actresses; and she, the central heroine.

It was fun, sometimes, when she would pretend that everything was scripted and that everything revolved around her. Even when she got in trouble, she would make it a part of her act - like in the movies, or in the books. When she was scolded by Mother for giving money to that poor man on the street, for instance, she pretended that she was in fact just a princess who cared for the poor peoples of "her country". Everything always worked out.

After a while, though, she finally came to realize that there was something missing: if there was a heroine, shouldn't there be a hero? It didn't have to be a knight on shining armor, but at least some sort of counterpart to her role. A person who would stay with her and her romantic stories of neverending happiness. It was strange though; since she was young, she never thought Soren to fit the role. He never played with her in these games optimistically, much less seriously.

"Soren! Can you be the guardian?"

"I don't want to play this game!"

"Please?! Or you can be the coach man. Is that okay?"

"No! I don't want to play it!"

"That's not fair! I always play with you!"

"No you don't! You always turn it into some story or something!"

It was kind of nostalgic really, now that she looked back on it. She made Soren fit into all kinds of 'roles' - priests, fathers, sons, brother, guardian, king - but never the 'hero'. He always seemed too close to her and too real to be part of her imaginative story.

It seems so silly now, but she sometimes thought herself selfish for forcing him to fit her desires. There was even a part of her that felt ashamed for not making him the 'hero' of her story, even if he didn't commit. But it was all a game anyway. Reality was too different - too harsh, too unpredictable, too...real - to fit such a childish and romantic endeavor.

As she poured the water, Eris looked out the window. Things seemed so peaceful. Simply put, she was happy, just standing here, pouring water, knowing her best friend was there.

"Thanks," Soren replied, taking the water from Eris. She sat down in the chair next to him and watched him drink the water. He kept looking at her with a frown on his forehead. Apparently, although he found it annoying whenever someone was watching him eat, he was too "shy" to tell them so. It was funny to just make him upset.

"Do you want something to eat?" Eris prompted, standing up to stretch her back.

"That's okay."

"Okay," Eris replied contently. She sat back down, putting her elbows on her knees, and her chin in her hands. As she stared at the room around her, she thought everything seemed to be all right. As her mind lifted, she smiled unconciously.

[Yurian]

The Magnet Train was always an exciting journey for Eris. She found the constant whirr of the engines not nauseating, but rather 'soothing'. It was like a warp hole where the stress of life bowed out to a nearly endless amount of open time and boredom. Perhaps it was just interesting to her because she rarely had the chance to ride one.

The Vermilian contest was only a few days away, and the prospect of going all the way back to Saitules was exciting and refreshing. She had spent the last month or so with Soren training, then resting again. He had seemed somewhat strange during this period, however, as if his mind was elsewhere. It seemed to sap his outgoing behavior into one that was more pensive and aloof.

She looked on the other side of the table to see him staring emptily out the window. What was he thinking about?

"Soren." There was some sort of movement, but apparently he didn't hear her.

"Soren."

"What?!" The friendly faced turned around in surprise.

"Haha," Eris laughed in response to his reaction. "Do you want to play a card game?"

"Uh...sure!" The strange melancholic mood on his face was replaced by a grin.

Eris reached into the bag by her feet, fumbling around to find the deck of cards. She could feel him steadily watching her, and a sudden wave of sadness seemed to pour over her. She looked up to suddenly find a disconcerted face morph back into a jubilant smile.

"Are you okay?" Eris laid (sp?) the cards out on the table, smiling at the face opposite her.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The answer was reassuring, but it still felt strained. She couldn't figure out what he was so worried about. Was worried even the right word?

The rumbling of the train seemed to wash her thoughts away though, as the two focused on the game in front of them. Now it was just friendly laughter.

[Yurian]

"If you have anything you want to talk about, you can tell me," Eris said awkwardly. She could feel her ears burning as she waited for his reaction. It was such a strange phrase to be saying to her best friend. It sounded distant and uncomfortable.

"Okay...?" Soren cocked his head and grinned. She noticed his eyes avoid her's for a moment before looking back. He seemed to force his head down to look at the cards in his hand, before deliberately laying one down.

"What are you thinking?!" Eris laughed as she laid out all her cards on the table. She smiled widely, hiding her thoughts. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable again, but she was uncomfortable; she knew something was wrong.

"Dang it! I don't know...ehe." He laid the cards down. "I guess you won."

"Do you want to play again?"

"Not really..." Soren replied with a laugh. He looked at her, waiting for a response. "Well, if you want to."

"That's okay," Eris returned. "I'm going to get something to eat. I'll get something for you too." She smiled again, before scooting off the bench and into the center isle.

"Thanks," Soren nodded. Leaving his sight, Eris looked back at him. He had returned to that brooding countenance, staring out the window.