((for those new, the RP will start where the other one left off, at a tournament for Force Wielders to battle out for a prize as the king himself is watching.))

Early in the morning, the streets were already swarming with people on their way to the stadium. It was the day of the tournament and everyone was in a hurry for the best seats. Along the lines, venders continued their selling to the people waiting to get in. The one participating in the tournament would go in through another entrance, the fighters were given their own balcony where they could watch the fights in good view when it wasn't their turn. As the people gathered to their seats a few suddenly point at the large balcony, starting to cheer as the King Ryu himself appeared to watch the tournament. Waving at his people with the Champion team behind him made up of his own knights, the leader of the knights leaned in to whisper into his ear. "Are you sure this is alright, My Lord? You don't have to all the tournaments for the people's sake."

Ryu continues waving at his people as he replies calmly, "It's alright. Besides, I have received word that this tournament will hold important events." The knight looked at the king in confusion until he replied back, "You mean..that "witch"?" The King looked back with a glare, "She is my Adviser, I recommend you don't call her by such names." The Knight bows a bit as he steps back into his spot, "My apologizes."

Once the crowds settled down, the announcer of the tournament walked into the center of the field. With a loud voice that echoed through the walls of the battle ground, he began to speak.

"Ladies and Gentleman! Welcome to this years Power Wielder Tournament!" The crowd gives a loud cheer at the intro before settling down for the man to continue. "This year, we have for you today many fine skilled Force Wielders taking part in these fights! Including your raining Champion of the Glorious Royal Knights!" Extending his arm at the balcony the Knight Captain was at, the people cheered as the Captain waved at the crowed. " So now I ask you all, are you ready for some fighting!?" The crowd cheers loudly as an assistant reels in a board with the matches. "Alright, then let's get the matches in order!"

So began the matching up on the tournament board. Going by pulling the fighter's numbers out of a box, they began to mark them down on the board.
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Sikes leaned to the side of the balcony, watching as the match ups were being done. He didn't pay attention to the others that had started to enter the balcony with him as he was lost in thought with the Dark Dragon within him. "Is this really necessary? I only believe that this will just get annoying rather then useful." A voice within him replied, "I sense the presence of others with a Dragon Soul within them. They haven't realized what they hold yet so we have to try and make them realize it here." Sikes give a huff in annoyance, "I still find it bothersome. You know I don't do well with others." Giving a sigh, the Dark Dragon talks back, "I know..but you'll have to bear with it...something big is coming and we need all of the Dragon Soul Wielders if we ever have a chance to stop it." Sikes waves his arm as if he was swatting a fly, "Yeah..I get it..." He mutters silently as he continues watching the match up being set up.

---

---

The air was practically buzzing with excitement. It was the day of the tournament, and vendors shouted out their wares at people passing on the street, while everyone bustled their way towards the arena. People pushed and shoved to get the best seats, and there was not a single person sitting at home with nothing to do. Tournament days were days of booming business for the poor, thieving for the homeless, and excitement for the rich.

For Rae Vixen, it was none of the above. For Rae, it was a day of nervousness, of fighting, and hopefully, of glory. She stood in the shadows of an empty alley, watching the booming streets with shaded violet eyes. The constant buzz of emotion almost made her want to double over. This was why she normally stayed clear of cities. Too many people. Living, and non-living.

However, she'd "heard" news. Well, not heard. Dreampt of news was more like it. She'd had another one of her strange dreams a few nights ago, where she'd glimpsed the other side. The dimension where souls that no longer inhabit their bodies go. A spirit had come to her in the dream, and she'd woken up, sweating wildly, only able to remember one snap of information. That something important was going to go down this tournament day, and in order to be a part of it... She had to be in the tournament. Not a thrilling idea. However, Vix had learned long ago not to question these dreams, so she'd willingly entered herself in the competition.

Now she stood, shoulder leaning against the wall of the alley as one hand slipped fingers through long, glossy black locks of hair, absent-mindedly. It was a habit of hers, when she was thinking or observing, to toy with her hair. Either that, or poke gently at the three small diamonds that lined the underside of her eyebrow. She stood there, violet eyes shining as she observed the street.

At least the chaos was good for one thing. A distraction.

Without another word, she slipped her bow over her shoulder and started into the bustling crowd. Reaching a vendor, who was selling hot breakfast rolls, she slipped up behind him. He was a good 5 inches taller than her, and he didn't see her. She leaned forward, on her toes and whispered gently in his ear. "Would you be so kind as to give a hungry girl some breakfast?" She breathed, and he turned on his heel, ready to strike, but when he saw her, he stopped. He looked down into her wide, much-too-large, violet eyes, and her delicate, nonthreatening face and dropped his hand to his side. "Depends." He grumbled, grinning wickedly. "What do I get out of it?"

She sighed and took a step back towards his stall, slipping her hand out behind her to grab two rolls as she talked. "I wasn't talking about that you pig." She hissed, just as a man took off running through the crowd, zipping past her. "Maybe you should be less concerned with pretty girls, and more concerned that that man just took off with at least twelve of your rolls."

At that, the baker spun, giving her enough time to grab her breakfast and split.

With a full stomach, Rae approached the alternative arena entrance that those who were not simply watching the tournament were supposed to use. The guards looked at her funny. "I'm Raven Trix." She said, giving them her fake name. "I'm a contestant." They eyed her small frame and their eyebrows shot up, but they let her in. She couldn't help but catch their comments about how she'd never survive as she headed towards the participants balcony.

Once out on the balcony, bright light and loud cheering hit Vix hard, and she had to grip the wall with white knuckles as a wave of emotion crashed down on her. She could feel the symbol on her upper thigh burning ever-so-slightly, but she didn't know why. She stood in the back, under a shadow, silently watching the others. Hopefully her dream had been right. Whatever this was about, it better be good. There were better things she could be doing on a tournament day than this.

If there was one thing Pristine dread, it was large crowds. She could feel all their emotions and it was like a bombardment. In this one instance it was a good thing Pristine's heart was shattered and ice cold because in this way, she refused to let emotions override her shields. It was a pain being an empathic, but she had been born with this ability thanks to her dragon. Speaking of which, the light dragon's soul that dwell within Pristine was the reason why she was here, competing in some stupid tournament. Rarely the Light dragon gave her any orders, but when she did, Pristine always reluctantly went along because she trusted the dragon. After all, if it wasn't for her, Pristine wouldn't be here. She hated how her life had turned out but knew she had a duty to perform and that was to eventually find all the dragon soul wielders.

When Pristine arrived at the tournament, she could instantly sense the abilities of those around her, even some of the ones she was meant to find. She could already sense the one she honestly didn't want to see again, but knew she had to. It was Sikes, the Dark Dragon soul wielder. She only got a hint of it, but she could sense him anywhere if he was close enough. Thinking about him brought old memories that made the pieces of her heart hurt. Quickly she push such thoughts away. Now was not the time to think such things.

The young lady didn't stand out in the crowd. She was wearing a dull colored cloak with a hood on that covered her from head-to-toe. She was sitting in the middle of the crowd, her colorless eyes already scanning the crowd. She could feel her symbol warm up and new one of the wielders were close. Until she found one of them, she would keep silent and vigilant.

The day of the tournament was finally here, the streets were alive with movement and chatter, the noise of vendors trying to sell their products to people passing-by rose above the crowds leaving only a chorus of shouts; the shouts rose up, filling the air. Farren slowly emerged from a small alleyway, pushing himself off the wall and into the streets, he gazed uneasily at the district before him, his eyes twitched before he looked forward towards the stadium, which was vaguely in the distance, "It's gotta at least be worth a shot..." he declared to himself a hint of doubt in his voice. Farren then unraveled something from his left hand, he then held it closely towards himself: it was a flyer for the recent power wielding tournament, Farren's eyes slowly went over and over it again, before he let out a brief sigh, he was almost certain that he could at least win something from the tournament.

After a few more second passed he dropped the flyer gingerly towards the ground and groaned, "I guess it could be... fun." he lifted his head back and chuckled humorlessly at his previous statement, Farren had never found fighting particularly fun. Farren shook his head wearily, before glancing towards the stadium, he had to squint to see it properly. As Farren pushed himself forward, he concluded he'd at least check the tournament out, it wasn't as if he was being forced into this after all. Farren finally began walking forward at a quick, rushed pace, wanting to get this over and done with as quickly as he could. It took a couple of minutes for Farren to reach the stadium's gates, and when he had he stood there a slight feeling of exhilaration and panic had begun to wash over him. Farren slowly looked back over his shoulder, before he whistled "Here it goes..." he then turned and began to walk inside.

As Farren approached the massive halls, he instinctively gulped after that he took a moment to steady himself and regain his composure, then he began looking around carefully. It took a minute for Farren to spot two doorways, one was marked 'contestants' the other held a massive line, he guessed it was the audience's line, he felt slightly nervous. All these people would be watching him, what if he failed? All those people would see, Farren once again steadied himself before thinking absentmindedly 'it's the taking part that counts, right?' he then spoke aloud "Here I go..." Farren took a step towards the contestant's door, his legs shaking slightly.

As Farren entered a man in a green tunic sat at the desk, several papers in hand. The man's eyes went wide for a second before steadying, "What're you doing here? Get out of here, kid." the man's voice was commanding, this was Farren's last chance to leave, to forgot about the tournament and everything, but somehow he managed to stand his ground. "I want to enter the tournament." The man looked dumbfounded for a second, before replying, "Are you deaf? I said get out of here!" the man had begun to raise his voice, but then Farren repeated, "I'm not deaf. I said I want enter the tournament." his voice was shaking slightly, the man tilted his head before speaking in a matter-of-factly type of tone, "You wouldn't last in their for five seconds. Return when you're older."

Farren was slowly beginning to lose his patience, "I don't have time for that. I want to enter the tournament." the man arched an eyebrow, before caving in "I don't have the time to deal with you. If you want to enter it's your death wish, kid. Don't say I didn't warn you." he let out a sigh, before speaking in a monotonous voice, "Name?" Farren's eyes widened in shock, before a feeling of cold victory washed over him. The man repeated again, this time with more annoyance "Name?" Farren stumbled, before he spoke quickly "Farren..." he paused, before quickly adding "Sawner" the man once again cocked his eyebrows, before sighing and writing it down on the paper below. "Head into the room behind me..." he gestured with his thumb before returning to the papers below.

As Farren quickly rushed forward into the room behind the man, he rushed up a short flight of stairs before opening a door and emerging on a balcony. His eyes flicked forward as he looked at all of the other contestants, everyone else looked older than him, he gulped once more. "Perfect..." he muttered to himself then added more casually "It's good that I like challenges.", he noticed he seemed to be getting strange glances from other contestants, he felt awkward, and looked down towards the ground before approaching the edge of the balcony watching at the matches being set up.

Sikes didn't look back, but he could sense that there were Dragon Soul Wielders behind him from the faint sensation from the mark on his neck. One sensation felt far to familiar as he looked surprised, about to turn around to look to see who it was. But a following announcement was declared just before he did, stopping him along.

"It's set ladies and gentlemen! We now have out match ups!" Sikes looked forward, looking at the man on the fighting grounds with the board now fully set up. We will now begin with our first fight of the day! The contestants: Sikes and Pristine, please come down to the fighting grounds!" Sikes's eyes widened as he jolts back to easily find her among the people that have entered the balcony. Seeing her, he silently mutters to himself, "...Pristine..." The Dark Dragon could feel it, the turmoil within him in knowing that he had come across her and now has to fight her of all people at that start of the tournament. Not saying a word, he calms himself down as he gives off a sigh before heading to the door, making his way ahead to the fighting grounds.

As he walked on, the announcer goes ahead and speaks about the ones fighting as they wait for them to come down. "These two combatants come from far away, Sikes, a Dark Force Wielder who, get this, doesn't fight with a weapon. That's right folks, a man who his best weapon is his body itself! Who is he up against? Pristine, a Light Force Wielder who's main choice of weapon is a staff. Opposite forces and from out of town, maybe these two are from the same home!" Hearing that last remark, Sikes grits his teeth, that fact that what he said was in fact true. But deep down, he didn't want this. If anything else, he wanted to help Pristine. After all it was his sister that caused all that suffering.

Stepping into the middle of the field, he turns around to wait for Pristine to come forward to the spot in front of him.

Krystal

Krystal opened her eyes to look out across the arena. Her blue hair was safely hidden by a crimson red cloak, so as to avoid attention. Well, as much attention you could avoid by wearing a bright color at the back of a balcony. Her violet eyes were pointed in the King's direction, ignoring the recent fight at the middle of the arena.

The King was her brother, but to her, he was nothing but a long lost relative. A speck of what her life would've been if her real parents hadn't been murdered, if she had grown to be a lady, not some little girl who played sword fights with boys. She would never have known how hard it would be to just let go and be a wild child is she hadn't been adopted by a bandit. Her life would've been the opposite of the way she was living. Her brain was fumbled with thoughts, and the possibility of having been raised a princess. She tried to cast them out, and focus on the fight below her but she couldn't.

Krystal forced herself to look away from her siblings and to watch the upcoming fight.

---

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Cecile sighed softly as others came onto the balcony, on the outside, she appeared serene and collected. On the inside, she was battling two different sensations. One, being the thousands of emotions buzzing around her, threatening to crush her under their weight, the other being the symbol on her upper thigh growing increasingly hotter. As she leaned against the wall, allowing the cool stone to chill her hot skin, her violet eyes scanned the others slowly. None of them seemed to be looking about, or paying attention to their fellow contestants, but Rae had her eyes roaming them all in turn, sizing them up, taking in the emotions of some of them, and gently prodding at their minds with her own, testing their mental strength.

A familiar feverish feeling slid over Raven's skin, causing her to shiver as a cold sweat slipped it's way down her spine. Not now, she thought frantically to herself, as she watched the shadows before her ripple. No one else on the balcony could see the spirit standing before her, but there it was, shivering into painful focus. Father? She thought to it, gripping her sides to hide her hands from shaking. She'd seen a million ghosts and spirits, but never before had they been someone she'd known. Some just wandered the streets in clear view all the time, while others appeared before her like this, causing her to feel feverish, searing heat and frigid cold at the same time. Silently, her father pointed across the arena to the place the king sat.

Sure enough, there sat her mother, beside the king, along with her two older brothers. She was his half-sister, making Vix the king's niece. But that was a life she'd left in the dust long ago. A life she couldn't even imagine anymore. Still, it hurt like a stab to her heart to see them standing there together, and something inside her told her that she should be over there, next to her brothers and their lovely wives. She remembered wrestling and sword fighting with her brothers as a child. They'd always been supportive of her independence, and, even though her mother had not, Vix knew she'd only meant well, wanting a good, comfortable life for her daughter. Rae had to swallow hard to keep a straight face on, and she was glad when the announcer spoke up, drawing her attention away from her former life, and back into her current one. Scat. She told her fathers spirit, and he dissipated into the air, and before she tuned her ears back into reality, Vixen had a brief thought about the irony that her mother had always down-graded Rae for her independence and strength, and yet, there she was, sitting proudly alone with no husband at her side, an independent widow.

"It's set ladies and gentlemen! We now have our match ups!" Raven turned her violet eyes on the announcer, leaning into the shadow as she watched. Shadows seemed to comfort her for some reason, calming her nerves, and stilling the rush of emotion around her ever so slightly. "We will now begin with our first fight of the day! The contestants: Sikes and Pristine, please come down to the fighting grounds!"

Vixen's eyes turned to the two who'd been called. They looked nervous, wait, no, scratch that, they felt nervous, but there was also something else there, under the nerves. Rae narrowed her eyes as she struggled to pinpoint it. "These two combatants come from far away, Sikes, a Dark Force Wielder who, get this, doesn't fight with a weapon. That's right folks, a man who his best weapon is his body itself! Who is he up against? Pristine, a Light Force Wielder who's main choice of weapon is a staff. Opposite forces and from out of town, maybe these two are from the same home!" That was it! Recognition. They knew each other! Though... Raven caught resentment as well. They weren't very happy to be there together apparently.

Rae turned her eyes on the boy, then the girl, and suddenly, she was hit with a splash of recognization as well. She'd seen these two. She was a vagabond, a nomad, traveling where she pleased, and she'd lived with both of their tribes for a short time. Not long, and before the "accident", which she'd only heard rumors of after she'd left, but it had been the first time in her life that she'd looked at someone and not tried to calculate their dollar worth, or what she could steal from them. That had been why she'd left. The strong sense of "home" had freaked her out, so she'd taken off.

Seeing these two here, together, was strange. She wasn't sure she'd ever said a single word to either of them, but she'd seen their faces, and, just like seeing her mother and brothers, it was like entering a dream. A different life. She rubbed the back of her neck, pinpointing the exits with her eyes. This tournament was turning out to be more than she could handle, and the fever symptoms of seeing her father's spirit were only just beginning to fade.

Shivir was there, crouched against the balcony railing fighting with the headache and hangover, this city was one of the places he traveled for no reason and never stayed long enough to know the name of the streets, providence brought him right in time of the tournament so everyone was in a festive mood, the same festive atmosphere that made him did something stupid while he was drunk: register as a participant for the Power Wielder tournament.

Of course he had the possibility and the intention to quit, at least until he saw one of the prizes reserved for the winner, apart from the ridiculous things as money and fame was the opportunity to meeting face to face with the king, the same bastard who stupidly waved to the idiots that cheered him, the same damned man that sent the Seekers to recruit him and ended up killing his wife, even if his hate didn't bound him to a blind search of revenge he wouldn't waste the opportunity that the tournament presented.

The announcer introduced the first fighters: a boy and a girl, Shivir stood and looked at the arena, the boy had the appearance of a martial artist or maybe a brawler, the girl instead was more along the lines of indirect attacks perhaps was more focused on the use of her element to confirm it he just have to see them fight, for now the only thing that was certain was that they were quite skilled, half of those in the balcony were small fry and the biggest threat is was with the king, The Commander Fang.

The mark on his back began to bother him at moments which never happened before and had him quite intrigued, he tried to touch it but slipped and almost fell off the balcony, so he was there hanging with his right hand while the left held his scythe wrapped in cloth, despite being uncomfortable that might be a good place to watch the fight so he made no effort to return to the balcony.

Farren's head craned forward as he leaned against the edge of the balcony, his eyes focused on the arena below and a chill went up his spine; he was going to be fighting down there, the prospect did't really frighten Farren but it clearly unnerved him. He looked briefly up at the sky, his head then sunked back down to the arena below, a look of glum anticipation covered his face.

Farren didn't realize at first, but he had begun to feel an odd sensation spread through his neck, it seemingly ached: almost burned. His right hand went up, massaging the left-side of his neck softly, this didn't help dull the feeling. His eyes were locked at the arena below, a man was stood there, an announcer Farren supposed as he anxiously ran his eye over the man. "It's set ladies and gentlemen! We now have out match ups!" Farren's eyes narrowed and froze in place, he was breathing deeply and he shook with anticipation, he doubted he'd be first since he had only arrived minutes ago, but he couldn't help but feel as if he was next, he shook his head trying to erase the feeling from his mind.

"We will now begin with our first fight of the day! The contestants: Sikes and Pristine, please come down to the fighting grounds!" Farren let out an almost immediate sigh of relief; all Farren knew was that: going first somehow equaled bad, for him anyway. Farren's head stretched forward, slightly eager to see the fight. He had never seen a proper fighting tournament before and he wanted to get a good look at the fight: mostly because it's fun watching two people face off; the other being Farren not knowing what he was up against, he did have a vague idea but he supposed he'd have to be precise if he wanted to win anything at the tournament.

As the announcer continued Farren looked towards the edge, still absentmindedly listening. "These two combatants come from far away, Sikes, a Dark Force Wielder who, get this, doesn't fight with a weapon. That's right folks, a man who his best weapon is his body itself!" Farren's head twisted forward as he casually looked at the man on the field, "Who is he up against? Pristine, a Light Force Wielder who's main choice of weapon is a staff. Opposite forces and from out of town, maybe these two are from the same home!" It looked like a good match, Farren thought anyway; light and dark after all, it just seemed rather fitting. Farren took a small step back, his eyes locked on the arena.

Pristine listened as the first contestants were up and gritted her teach. This was meeting she knew would happen and honestly wished it never would happen. A small part of her didn't want to fight Sikes. However, her intense anger was starting to rise and she refused to unleash it. Now was not the time to lose it. If she had to face the man she once had feelings for, than so be it. Locking away her feelings she did her best to burry them. Instead of taking the stairs down though, she leaps into the air and using her flight ability, she lands in the middle of the ring. Pristine only did this because she was impatient and wanted to get this fight over with.

However, the one thing she didn't count on was looking and seeing Sikes for the first time in years. D--n it! She could feel the pieces of her stone heart tremble at the sight of him. Why did he have to get even more handsome? While her emotions were all over the place on this inside, on the outside, her eyes pierced right through the dark haired man. If looks could killed, Sikes would be nothing but rubble at the moment. This was also because Pristine detested his kind now for not only the murder of her brother, but her whole family and clan.

Stop it Pristine! He's just as innocent as you are. the light dragon said.

Pristine ignored her voice though and concentrated on Sikes. She had her staff at her side, but she also had twin daggers underneath her cloak, which were hidden from view. The dragon symbol on her lower back was also warming up. Gone was the young vibrant girl and in her place was a stone cold woman who'd seen too much.

Sikes looked back at Pristine as she eagerly leaped onto the battle grounds. He could see it in her eyes, her rage for him building up. The announcer began to talk as Sikes looked back at Pristine with an almost depressed look on his face.

"My my! Looks like Pristine is more eager then ever to start the match! Let's get this match underway!" With that said, the announcer darted off to get out of the fighting grounds as soon as possible. As he ran off, Sikes let's out a low sigh and glances down to the ground. "...I know you hate me...and I don't blame you for that..my clan...my family...brought you more suffering then what someone should experience in their life." Still glancing down, he clenches his fist. "I wont ask for forgiveness cause I don't feel I deserve any. But I do want to ask for one thing...." He then looks up with determined eyes, "..that you let me track down my sister...and make her pay for what she did to both our clans. After that...you can do what you want with me..I wont fight back once I finish my goal."

Once saying what he wanted to say, he slides one of his feet back, moving into a fighting position. "But right now...we have to keep this issue between us and off this field. There are other Wielders around here...and we have to let them see what it is that they wield within them." He hints to her what it is that he wanted to do as a dark aura suddenly forms over his fists, looking back at her with a mix of both determination and suffering.

"Speaking your thoughts to her seemed to have helped out you mood problem." The Dark Dragon speaks to him, giving off a slight chuckle. Sikes replies to him in his head, "I made her suffer...talking is the least I can do."

Pristine wasn't counting on his words having an affect on her, but they did and she couldn't help but remember that day when her life was torn apart. The only physical reaction of this was one small tear managing to escape her eye and trickle down her cheek. Refusing to wipe her face, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He intended to kill his own sister? Is that what he meant? Depsite the great evil his sister did, the thought did trouble her.

Clearing her head, she nodded at his last statement. Despite all that happened, both of them still had a job to do. They had to reunite with the others and this fight should help make them aware of what they could achieve. There was just one thing that could go wrong. This tournament. Something didn't feel right about it.

It could be a trap, she told Sikes telepathically.

However, she would not hold back and could feel the Light dragon's worry for her and Sikes too. Darn, this wasn't the time for any vulnerability. Sikes was already a great fighter even brother that disaster and was probably even better now. Not wanting to keep standing there. Pristine removed her cloak for she knew it could be a problem. Her white hair was braided and her twin knives could be seen strapped to her thighs. Positing herself in attack position, as a light aura appear along her. She would attack when the time was right.

There was a general hustle and bustle about the crowded streets. Excitement buzzed in the air as people hurried towards the stadium, endlessly chattering and even chanting for their favourites. Vendors were shouting to be heard above all the racket, attempting to sell their merchandise.

"Come up, come up...We've got your children's wooden swords here today!"

"Get your fresh roasted hog here!"

"I'll give you a good deal lass, I promise."

"Ha, the promise of a vendor is about as useful as a feather sword."

The thought almost made Ayla Demieno snort as she sauntered lazily through the packed streets, eyeing the market stalls with distaste. Coming from a small village, it was only when she had entered the larger towns that she had witnessed such travesty. It was the vendors that made the whole thing so appalling. They were always trying to con money from someone. Take the tournament for example, some were selling wooden figurines with limbs that fell off whilst others took sneaky bets on who might win. "Fools shall never get their money back. It was a bitter thought, but true nonetheless. She would never understand it, though she knew that some were essential such as the baker or the butcher stalls. But having such open stalls only made them vulnerable. Well maybe they deserved to be thieved from. Ayla watched as a grubby little boy ran up to a stall and lifted a meat pie without even attracting the eye of the vendor. She did nothing to stop him as he pushed by her and took off down a side street cackling.

Sighing, she too took the small alley, but for another reason. She was meandering slowly towards the fighters' entrance to the stadium. Fully aware that she was already late, she made no visible effort to increase her pace. It was calmer in the side roads, though she could still hear the booming voice of the announcer over the crowds, but couldn't make out his words. In the main street it had seemed as though every person who lived in the city was heading to watch the fighting. Apparently it was a huge event. Of course, she had never been before and in her small village the only entertainment they ever had was watching her older brothers' wrestle with one another. Not exactly thrilling. But here there was an atmosphere that she had never witnessed before. It was intoxicating and almost made her feel the excitement they did.

Almost.

But she was here for a reason. And that was to fight. Slipping through the fighters' entrance, she turned and took the stairs two at a time. The air was charged with commotion and almost hysteria. The moment she stepped out onto the platform, her ears were assaulted with a bombardment of noise and her eyes with plenty of colour. Blinking, she cast a glance around to gather herself. There was stamping of feet and clapping of hands. Brightly coloured banners were hung over railings and flags were waved above heads. It was quite a sight. But Ayla found her eyes drawn to the centre of the arena, where two figures faced each other in combat. Except neither had made a move yet. Frowning, she placed her elbows against the railing and lent forwards to get a better view. No, neither of them were moving and she quickly lost interest in the pair.

A faint itch, caused Ayla to scratch at her left collarbone where her mark was, but she paid it little heed. She knew nothing of the fighters nor their backgrounds. It was how she liked to enter a fight. Go in blind and it will be full of adventure. Besides, her natural confidence and sharp tongue usually carried her through. As of yet it had not failed her. However, there was a first time for everything.

Pushing off the railing, she turned to look at the others on the balcony. Probably best to scope out the competition. And she didn't hesitate to do just that. Openly she stared at them all for a period of time, attempting to judge their character or fighting style from their posture, body language or simply the look on their face. It was interesting and a small smirk tugged at her lips. Some of them looked barely older than 16. They were hardly adults, let alone warriors or fighters.

Her confidence level went up another notch.

He nodded at what Pristine told him in his mind as he awaited for the sound of the beginning of the fight. Once the announcer stepped out of the fighting grounds, a bell was rung.

"FIGHT!"

At those words, Sikes launched himself forward, hands coated with a dark aura as started off with a combo attack. Sending in a left hook with his darkened fist, he follows with a right one, finishing with straight forward punch at Pristine. Every movement of his arms would leave behind a trail of a mist-like shadows.

Up upon the balcony where King Ryuu sat along with his knights, he watched the fight intensely, looking for something within the fighting as he carefully kept his eyes on every movement that was being done.

Watching over the fighting, but in a different sense, the Dark Dragon examined the one that held his Soul. Sensing a bit of holding back on Sikes part, feeling the trouble that he was having with having Pristine as his first opponent.

Pristine was ready for him and moved at the last possible second. She already knew he was holding back and wondered why. It was probably because he knew it would be best not to go all out in case something happened. It never occurred to her he was holding back because he cared for her. Still, she would take slight advantage of this, but not too much for she too wouldn't show all her cards. When Sikes aimed a punch at her, Pristine leaped over him and in midair, made a sweep of her staff, which let out a bit of light magic towards the shadows Sikes had created. Pristine had a feeling those shadows were the main attack, not his fist attacks.

When she landed, it was a good ways from the shadow trails, which were being attacked by her light magic. With another arm movement, she sent the bits of light magic after Sikes and moved instantly with it. During this whole time, she kept her icy veneer out, but inside she was in turmoil. A part of herself hated herself for doing this to Sikes. This was her! The light dragon could feel her agony and sought to comfort Pristine.

Brushing her wave of red hair over her shoulder, Ayla Demieno lent casually on the hilt of her sword, the end of the blade stuck in the ground. Around her, the jeers and cheers of the crowd echoed loudly around the dusty arena. Some were even calling her name, chanting for her. A satisfied smirk crossed her face. She knew no-one in the crowd, but it was evident that they had heard of her. And now they called for her, wished her luck or for her to take their token. Even still, it was the jeers that entertained her more. Some men called for her blood, others shouted hateful things that barely touched a nerve with her. It was all superficial. These people knew nothing of her and thus she should not let it touch her, or put off her fighting. Of course she would win, she was Ayla Demieno. Undefeated in any battle she had faced.

Wide, unblinking yellow eyes scanned the crowd as she awaited her unknown opponent. Lazily, she pushed off the hilt of her sword and started towards the peasant crowd. The crowd in that particular section quietened for a moment, as no other warrior had yet approached them. But then the noise grew loud again, the cheers and the heckling merging into one sound. The closer she came, the more her smirk grew. Until she was a mere metre from the fence where she stopped and her features turned unreadable. Until then she had no idea why she was approaching the flea-bitten crowd, but now it became clear, to her at least. To win their hearts.

Smiling her sweetest smile, she touched hands, spoke kindly and accepted tokens from the crowd. A dirty scrap of lace, a child's toy and lastly a red rose, which she tucked into her tunic, bestowing the young man who had given it to her with a kiss on the cheek. Without a single word, she turned upon her heel and walked slowly to the centre of the field again. A smile tugged at her lips. She could here more cheering than jeering now.

Yanking her sword from the ground, she sheathed it on her belt and turned to face the crowd.

"So where is my opponent eh?" She called loudly so that the crowd and the remaining warriors could hear her. "Where be my fierce opponent? Are they hiding from my wrath?" A chuckle escaped her lips, as she humoured herself. The crowd called louder, wanting blood, wanting a fight. Ayla had played them, winding them up and up until they all but lost control.

"Who dares to face Ayla Demieno?!"

The constant noise was very new to him, something he'd never heard before. Nowaki couldn't really understand why so many people would gather together just so they could have the opportunity to make so much noise. He stood only a little ways away from the large stone structure that was the arena the tournament was being held in. He was all clothed in white with a scarf wrapped around his neck, his unusual appearance getting quite a few glances. His pure white hair and amethyst eyes, along with his attire, didn't exactly 'blend in' and he stuck out more than one should, but the boy didn't seem to notice it at all. He could hear the cheering get louder and slowly started to wonder why they people were making so much noise just for the sake of making noise. Then again, maybe the noise wasn't such a bad thing. Sometimes shouting or yelling could help people relieve stress, but he'd never once yelled, nor raised his voice in any way. He couldn't ever remember being stressed either, but he wasn't really sure what being stressed would even feel like.

He decided to find out why the people inside the large structure were shouting so, spotting a door that led into the building, he walked over and entered. The door shut behind him and he realized there was only one other person inside, sitting behind a large desk. Nowaki stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to say to him, when after a couple of minutes the man finally let out an impatient sigh and looked over to where Nowaki stood in front of the door.

"You got a question er something or are you just going to stand there?"

Nowaki stood still for a few more seconds before walking up to the desk. He turned his head to one side, then to the other, his eyes scanning the room. "Why are the people so loud?" He asked finally, looking back at the man who returned the boys question with a raised eyebrow. "Uh, the tournament. The first round is about to start. Don't you know what that is?" Nowaki shook his head and the man looked at him as if he'd come from another planet.

"You know..the tournament where Force Wielder's battle it out for the prize? Ring any bells?"

"What is a Force Wielder?"

The man nearly fell out of his chair. "You're kidding me! Those guys who can control elements! Tons of em' join the tournament every year. Is there something wrong with your head?"

Come to think of it, Nowaki remembered he'd been called one before, and not very long ago either, but he never really thought about it. "I want to sign up." He said blankly, but the man just stared at the white-haired boy with a disbelieving expression. After a moment, the man let out a frustrated sigh and pulled up the slip with all the names of the contestants. "You kids get on my nerves. Alright what's your name?"[b]

"Nowaki."

[b]"....last name, too.."

"Kimiyui..." He paused a moment. This would be the time where the man was supposed to introduce himself as well, and Nowaki was suppose to say something as well. After the man wrote down Nowaki's name, he realized the boy hadn't moved from his spot in front of the desk. "Well? Go on up!" Nowaki was slightly confused, looking to the back of the room where there were a flight of stairs, then looking back at the man. "Nice to meet you." He said before walking to the back of the room, not noticing the man shaking his head with another sigh.

He climbed the stairs, the sound of cheering and the voice of a man being louder than all the rest. As Nowaki reached the top, he suddenly felt a slightly throb come from the mark on his neck and a small sensation of warmth swept over him. This was very unusual to him, since his body was always so cold. He ignored it, walking up to the balcony where a few others were watching to stare down at the arena where two people had just begun to fight. Nowaki watched blankly, wondering if that's what the man meant by 'battling for the prize'. He watched for a few more moments until he turned away to find somewhere to sit down in the balcony. He walked back to a vacant corner and sat down on one of the stone benches that was surprisingly empty. He stuck his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground, awaiting the time he'd go down into the arena.

Now that he knew exactly what he'd signed up for, one would think he'd feel nervous, since he'd never really been in any kind of combat before. But, as usual, he was as calm as usual and didn't even put a lot of thought into what to do when his turn came up. He was a little curious as to what the prize would be though, since he never bothered to ask.

Sikes managed to avoid the attack that were aimed to his shadows, avoiding any hits on himself. When the next attack came toward him, he swung his arm upward, his hand open as he the shadow gave a sort of form of claws, "slashing" upward as her and her light attacks came toward him. The light attack would get deflected at the equal amount of strength in the opposite attacks as he stopped the movement of his hand to not hit her. Looking right at her, he gave an almost sad expression. "Pain....the negativity of pain and agony...it's coming strong from you." He says to her as he remained still for a bit. "It's probably hard..but we have to bare with it. We're the only ones that know of the dragons...so only we can make the others realize what they hold."

With saying that, he leaps back, extending his arms at each side. "If it's painful to you too, then let's try and finish it as soon as possible. Show those others the power of a dragon" He tells her as he begins to breath in deeply. There was only one art that belonged to the dragons that involved taking in a deep breath. The traditional attack all dragons were known for, their Breaths.

Once he gave her enough time to ready hers, he let's out a massive exhale, letting out the attack Dark Dragon Breath. Releasing a black flame like darkness from his mouth as it erupts in her direction.

Pristine gritted her teeth when she heard Sikes's words. She didn't need him to tell her what her duty was. She also briefly forgotten that he could sense anything negative about someone. It looked like he could still read her well. Still he never did find out the scope of her feelings when she was more innocent, but that was probably because if he did he probably thought it was 'puppy love' or a crush at best. It was too late for that now. Pushing thoughts out of her head, Pristine listened as he suggested they end it now. For once she agreed with him.

As she watched Sikes take a deep breath, she thought he was crazy to do such an act, but went along with his plan. Calming herself down, Pristine took a show deep breath too and felt the power rise within her. Closing her eyes, she could feel the energies churning as she exhaled her Light Dragon breath. Unlike Sikes's flame, this one was white fire and it head right towards the black flame.

((Oblivian, I'll let you decide what kind of effect this will have.))

Silvia was standing on the very edge of the audience stands. How did she get there despite the multitudes of people that were pushing ahead to get a good look at the fight below right now?

One word... or perhaps one name would be better put. Fernis.

Her guardian, a gigantic white wolf was beside her, the sight was intimidating enough to make people steer clear away from him. Something she was quite thankful for. Being around humans were different, after spending her time in the wild, living amongst the creatures that people often feared. The large fragment of an even larger greatsword was hanging from her waist, wrapped in a dusty and worn piece of cloth. Silvia herself was looking very dusty, caked with mud in many places, her clothing seemed as if she never changed it before. Her hair was dusted with brown and any sane person would have cringed at the sight of her. Still, even Silvia herself was disgusted at her own appearance. Sure, she lived in the wild, but that didn't mean she didn't have a good sense of hygiene. If one thing, it was she had an absolutely great sense of it. She could've continued on her nomadic journey to a lake or something to take a nice shower, as well as clean Fernis's teeth to fix it's bad breath problem. But no, food and water had rid her of much of her gold.

'No thanks to you Fernis.' she thought and glared over at her partner. As if it could hear her, which was true, Fernis hung it's head. Silvia merely sighed and patted the wolf's head. She went through the events from yesterday.

"We're out of gold..." Silvia sighed as she squeezed her way through Fernis's head and the butcher's door frame. Not long later, Fernis pulled out it's head and peered at her, while licking it's blood coated lips and snout.

"We need to find some gold, and there's no bandits here to raid from." she absent-mindedly stroked Fernis's neck.

Wandering around the city ended up helping Silvia. Coming across a registration table, she stopped and stared.

"Why hi there, you look like a warrior. Am I right?" the man behind the table quipped. Silvia raised her eyebrows but nodded, surprised with the man's ability to talk to here. A shadow soon towered over both of them and the man shrunk backwards, causing Silvia to smirk a little, she knew who it was. The familiar snout prodding her cheek was of course, no doubt, Fernis's.

"E-er...w-would you like to join the tournament...along with your friend there?" the man continued, now visibly shaken by the appearance of the giant wolf.

"Tournament?" she asked, interested. The man pushed the registration form towards her, the continued.

"Yes, all Force Wielders are participating, apparently, there's a prize behind it."

At the word prize, Silvia smiled. She had participated in several tournaments, all of them were from the Ancient Bears, but those were always trials of strength, ways to obtain respect, and even sometimes to gain mates. Human tournaments usually involved rewards such as gold, didn't they? Pointless and stupid from Silvia's point of view, but for once, she was thankful for such a thing. She picked up the quill and dipped it into the ink pot before jotting down her name. As she walked away.

"Silvia...Glade'O...Rose?" the man read out what she wrote. She turned around to look at him. "I forgot to say this was a Force Wielders only tournament. What is yo..."

A small tiny whip struck the man across his cheek, shocking the man as he stumbled backwards and rubbed his stinging cheek. He stared at the small whip moving around in the air like a snake, which seemed to have grown out from the table he was using. He looked at Silvia to confirm what he saw, who returned the gaze coolly before flicking her index finger down and walking away, Fernis following closely behind her. The whip withdrew and joined back to the table, not a trace that it had been there. The man lowered a trembling hand to feel the table, but it was as smooth as before. The only evidence that the whip was there was the bright, red streak on his cheek.

"How...?" the man though, then it struck him almost as hard as the whip. The table was made of wood.

Now Silvia was here, looking down as the Dark Force Wielder and Light Force Wielder juke it out. She flexed her left shoulder, it was stinging a whole lot today. Did a hornet somehow slip itself into her shoulder armor piece and was stinging her? But the very thought was impossible, no creature would willingly harm her. Funny. She ran a finger over her battle-worn shoulder piece before resting the same hand upon the butt of her greatsword.

Silvia's eyes widened in surprise, as well as recognition, as both Force Wielders breathed out some kind of...flame. Both of them had different colors, respective to the Force they were wielding...but that wasn't normal. Silvia had heard stories from her grandpa, but...

'Dragon Soul Wielders?!'

At the impact of both of attacks, Dark and Light Dragon Breaths, a powerful shock wave emitted from where the two forces collided, knocking up dust from off the ground as it blows outward, clouding the view of both fighters.

Up on the balcony, King Ryuu sat in awe as he witness the display of power. Commander Fang peers over to his king, noticing his reaction as he moves in closer to him. "It appears as your enjoying the fight, your majesty?" He asks, believing that the king was eyeing the next invites into his forces, having been seeking more powerful Force Wielders as of late. But once he asked that, the King's expression changed as it becomes a serious glare at where the two fighters stood. "Commander Fang...gather your men." Surprised by the sudden change in his king, he replies in confusion, "What's wrong, my lord?" Keeping his eyes on the field below, King Ryuu then spoke in a stern tone.

"Those two...are a threat to my Kingdom...arrest them. It is also believed that others like them are among the competitors. If anyone tries to help them, toss them into jail as well."

Back down on the battle field, Sikes struggles to look through the picked up dust to try and see if Pristine was still standing or not. But at the moment he was able to see, he also caught sight of several armed Royal Knights surround the two of them. "What the..?" He mutters as he looks at the armored knights all around them as Commander Fang himself walks from the battle field entrance. "You two...your under arrest." Sikes couldn't understand what was going on as he protested, "Arrest? For what?!"

Keeping a serious look, the Commander replies, "King Ryuu has seen your powers, and has judged you and your monster kind as a threat." Right then, Sikes noticed something, "Monster kind?...Does he mean..the dragons? How does he know?" But before he could give it much thought, the knights moved in, pushing Sikes and Pristine close to one another. "Damn it..."

Krystal's boredness suddenly came to an end as something different happened at the light and dark weilders clashed together. The fire breath? It was amazing but also... Familiar. Her shoulder began to itch and burn as if someone just threw acid on her. Then the fire faded away and soilders surrounded them. Anger, and disgusted by her own brother's fear she couldn't help it. She leaped over the air and landed on the balls of her also using her metal hand to even out her weight so as not to break her legs. Standing upright, she hesitated before letting the heat burning on her shoulder travel down to her metal hand. She wanted to destroy the gaurds, but she also didn't want to grab the attention of the King.

(Sorry I haven't been around, but I'm still intrested in the RP and will try to always be around alot more.)

What happened next wasn't a huge surprise for Pristine. When the guards closed in around them and one said they were being arrested, Pristine complied. While she still had plenty of energy to attack, she knew in this kind of situation, it was best not to act yet. Still, she was mildly taken aback when she overhead what Sikes and the one soldier said. Dragons? How did the king know about their dragons. Only those of the Light and Dragon clans knew about the Dragon souls, so how could the king, an outsider, know about them. Did that mean . . . one of their clansman was still alive and aligned with King Ryuu? But who? She knew that none of her tribe would have done such a thing. She had heard bad things about the king and even from here, she could feel bad energy from the King's area of the arena.

As Pristine tried to figure out who it could be, she could feel Sikes being pushed right next to her. She also felt her symbol burn a bit. That could only mean one of the others were close. Damn, this was not good! It would do if the others got caught now too. She wished she could warn the person.

Don't panic Pristine. Wait for the right moment, her dragon said.

Pristine nodded and stayed quiet.

---

---

Cecile watched as the two battled in the arena. The two were using powers like she'd never seen before and she knitted her eyebrows, taking a small step out of the shadows to see better. For a reason she could not say, her heart was pounding wildly against her ribcage, and something seemed to be stirring inside her. However, she didn't get the change to investigate it before she was forced to step into the shadows again.

The King's guard were rushing into the balcony, randomly grabbing hold of the contestants and claiming their arrest. Vixen watched intently as, because of her uncanny ability to blend with shadows, and sometimes miss the untrained eye, they bolted right past her. Slowly, she took a step backwards, only to feel hands clasp tightly around her small arms, holding her immobile, pinning her arms to her sides. Frantically, and with an unexpected strength, Vix spun in the mans arms grasp, so that she was facing him. He still held her, but at least she could see his face. "Thought you could hide darling?" He said tauntingly, with a wicked smile. "You're under arrest, King's orders."

She hissed under her breath and glanced around. Had the king or her mother or brothers found out she was here? Was that why they were taking her? No. It couldn't be. Why would they want all the other contestants too? Maybe, they would capture all the females, just to make sure they'd grabbed the right one, but there would be not reason for them to take the men too. She allowed herself to feel slight relief for a second. This meant that neither the King, nor her mother knew she was here yet. However... She glanced at the man holding her. If she allowed this man to capture her, it would only be a manner of minutes before they did discover it.

The mark on her upper thigh was burning like mad now, but she simply ignored it and smiled innocently up at the guard. Her big violet eyes, and sweet face made her appear threat-free. "What could the King want with me?" She asked, trying to stall for time while she prodded at his mind with her own, trying to look for holes and openings she could slip through.

Weaving illusions was tricky business. Sure, she could just thrust it on him, but he would only believe it for a few moments at the most, and she needed more time than that. The deeper into his mind, she was able to get, the longer her illusions lasted. If she got deep enough, or created an illusion elaborate enough, one of her tricks could become a memory for that person, and it would never wear off, for the rest of their lives. Essentially, she could drive someone insane with just a look into her eyes, a touch of her skin, or the hearing of her voice.

Put all three together, and you have a very strong illusion. Which the man was making the mistake of doing right now, holding her arms, looking into her eyes, and listening to her talk. She just hoped she could buy enough time to get out of here. She couldn't let the King, her mother, or her brothers know she was here.

Farren's eyes widened, his eyes fixated on the battle below intensely; the combatant's attacks became a lot more directed and controlled, but he could also notice a subtle viciousness between the pair, he gulped reflexively definitely not looking forward to the prospect of participating, but he also felt a certain reluctance to quit the tournament and run. He had signed up for this, and he was going to see it through to the end; even if he does get mangled horribly in the process. Farren was many things (a murderer among them.) but one thing he wasn't was a: quitter, as his father used to say, "Our family ain't no quitters, we keep on at it until we succeed." And although Farren hated him deeply, he always felt a certain pride in that, he held onto it and it always seemed to give him comfort and courage, something that he could confide in, in desperate times. Farren took a slow deep breath and exhaled slowly, cooley and calmly.

The combatants in the arena unleashed a powerful breath-like flame ability, which reflected both the elements they wielded, light and dark. As they collided a shock wave emitted and Farren's jaw slowly and comically fell open in surprise of their feat, Farren also felt something unknown stir inside him; just for a moment however, it was a peculiar sensation, a ghostly tingling of sorts but it quickly faded and was replaced with the burning sensation on his neck which had doubled tenfold, he rubbed it irritably and hissed in response; this did little to ease the mark however. The unique feat the two combatants had preformed seemed to draw the guards and most importantly Commander Fang's attention, guard's swarmed around the pair. Farren felt the almost imminent danger rise in the wind quickly and clearly, it was the serious type of danger. Farren looked around anxiously, before taking a step back slightly panicked.

Farren took another step back, his spine hit the edge of the balcony; nowhere to run now, he wasn't sure what was going to happen, but he certainly didn't like it, he felt trapped in here and he wanted to get out of here pronto. Farren's head snapped towards the entrance, almost as if sensing the guard's entering, they immediately began proclaiming the contestants under arrest, they herded them in a small crowd. Some struggled but it seemed futile, Farren luckily was right at the back of the crowd near the edge of the balcony, and due to his height they didn't notice him... at first. Farren could hear the shouts of guards, and in response the arguing of some contestants, he closed his eyes before muttering over and over "Think, think! Of something, anything!"

Farren was interrupted from his train of thought by something jerking his shoulder almost violently. His eyes snapped open quickly reflexively, he looked up seeing a brutish guard "So young..." he tuts mockingly and obviously in a condescending manner, his former frown slowly turned into a grin, "The King's ordered all of the contestant's arrest, come with me." When Farren didn't move, the guard added with authority "Now!" Farren winced and tried to pull away, the guard had a firm grip and began yanking him forward, Farren quickly released a burst of air in response from his palm, Farren didn't have enough space to channel the air properly, but it still pushed him back a few feet, making him lose his grip on Farren's shoulder. Farren's shoulder ached slightly due to the pressure the guard had put on it, regardless he was not letting them take him to jail. Farren backed away towards the ledge his arms raised defensively, his head cocked upwards looking for an escape route of some sort.