Snippet #2387645

Jaspon fell back against the ground, the staff in his hands only just lifting quick enough to catch the attack from the familiar grey beast now mere inches form his face. The teen pushed forwards with his arms, bringing his knee up into the creature's stomach, and managed to shove it from him. Though with great difficulty. As both found their footing, their eyes locked and a challenge began, both fighters daring the other to attack first. They circled, never breaking contact, before the wolf lost patience. It pounced forwards but missed its target. Jaspon, with a yell, slammed the staff down on the wolf's. Hardly damaging, but with some effect. Jaspon managed to keep up the tactic of dodge and strike for two more attempts of the wolf with some success, but his opponent was smart. It interceded his evasive jump, knocking the teen to the ground and his staff from his hands. Jaspon rolled onto his back and stared up at the wolf in horror, its teeth set in what seemed like a sinister smirk. His heart pounding and body trembling, Jaspon chanced a glance back at the staff. His heart dropped. It almost seemed too far for him to reach, but he had to try. Pushing himself back he began to crawl towards it, his body still facing the wolf as it advanced on his pathetic form. It took only a second for the wolf to catch up, but, despite his doubts, the staff was now in Jaspon's hand, and it suddenly occurred to him what he could have used without it. He aimed the crystal and felt his power surge towards, the heat and strength. Then, with one word, it ripped from the now shining crystal, like lantern-light at twilight.
"Fire!" Jaspon bellowed, still shaking in fear.

The wolf yelped as the ball of flames flew straight for it, the force of the spell as it collided knocking back a few feet. Jaspon lay stunned for a moment, the adrenaline and terror still coursing through his veins like a virus infecting his mind and body. When his mind caught up with what had been happening and realised what he had just done, killed a monster, he felt a mixture of joy and guilt. It was his first kill for the tournament. But he had just killed an innocent creature. Yes, it had attacked him as he slipped quietly from Central Alexander into the Western Slums, but it was not here by choice. It had not chosen to die.

Pushing all thoughts along those lines form his mind, Jaspon returned it to the matter at hand. His father had taught him better than to do this kind of thing. Jaspon pushed himself to his feet and, after grabbing his hat and discarded bag, turned his gaze on what was left of the mountain wolf from his home land, Garrom. The magical flames had burned through fur and skin, singing and scorching wherever it had not penetrated deep enough. The smell of burning and death was strong in the air, and so, with a muttered apology, Jaspon turned to find his next target. It did not take long.

After walking for only a moment, the teen black mage came across a collection of dead Opo-opo almost in a circle around a shifting figure. It was as if they were protecting whatever was lying on the ground amongst them. He stepped with caution, careful not to put his boot down on any of them. Soon enough, it became clear what was in the centre of them. An injured Opo-Opo lay squirming in pain, though making no noise. It was quiet clearly younger than the rest, though old enough that it was considered to be of fighting age.

The creature looked up at him with suspicion, but not fear he saw. It did not surprise Jaspon that the little Opo did not trust him after the way his family had been slaughtered. It was not a spell as far as he could see, but had taken them all down in only a few strikes, as far as he could see. Slowly, the Opo revealed the true extent of the damage. And he was beyond repair, at least as far Jaspon's abilities could go. For a moment, Jaspon did not understand why it did not resist him. But it finally occurred to him as his eyes took in again the sight of the massacre. Nodding solemnly, he moved forwards with his staff raised.
"I'm sorry..." He brought the staff down on it, slaying his second of the tournament. Even as dead claimed it, the Opo had shown no fear.
'If only I could be as brave.'

He shook his head of the sympathy for the poor monsters in the tournament, and replaced his hat on his head. Shifting the bag and readying his staff, Jaspon took off into the slums to continue his hunt, but with even more reluctance than he had first felt in the competition to kill.