Enter: Arachnis II

The day seemed like any other: Men and women loitered and ventured up and down the streets, children played in the park, and merchants made their way for the marketplace. The sun overhead was shining, and moderate temperature- Until, he came…
A scream broke the peaceful chatter of Nostvale, a scream disturbed the peace. That scream, was merely the prelude as to what took shape.

People by the droves moved in a frantic crowd, apparently desperately trying to get away from something. To those whom paid it any attention, something darkened at the air… Like a fog. It grabbed at few escaping citizens, whisping at their rush from it’s touch. Terror was invoked, but of what?
Soon enough, from the marketplace, a thick miasma flown at it’s own leisure- From one of the households of Nostvale, dedicated to medical treatment. Such mist harbored towards the public, wading at a height of almost seven feet into the air, hugging the ground intently. As it moved, it seemed to move with it’s own will, heading west and oddly enough directed upon the crosswalks.
Brave guards stood before it, armed and prepared for what it had in store, only to be consumed by it’s embrace- Vanishing, leaving ambiguity as to their fate.

Such essence was proven occultistic, weak to mild burning sensations could be felt in it’s embrace. To those with any remote sensing capability, a single entity within could be pinpointed, levitating for random entities that caught its attention. This was no attack, nor technique… This was the extension of an occultistic aura, overcharged with the aid of cosmic magic, and allowed to flow loose from the caster’s body.

Soon enough, a black silhouette within the violet dust took shape, one could make it out as a humanoid, for sure! As for what this was… As for what he was doing- His purpose? It was surely unknown. The air grew heavy, dampened with gravitonic use that weighed down at the shoulders of men and women whom allowed the miasma to come too close.

A voice, broke from the occultistic fog. White noise hissed throughout his speech to replicate that of Yokai-Human communication. With animalistic qualities, crackles snipped through his voice-

“I am looking for the man and woman, whom ventured my land seeking the man in white…”
A brief gleam of crimson glow shimmered from the ‘eyes’ of this figure through the fog.

“...Where… Are they…” It asked in a rather dried whisper, deteriorated into a slight wheeze.
(Xal)
Zanfiel: I mean you're not fighting Glacium.
Axanth D'arkeinth: ..Hmm..the fuck are you..
Upon the wooden bench of Nostvale's most notable mini-peninsula sat Caiside, enjoying the weather and all it brought upon the city: friendly people that seemed to stay out of one's way, and an abundance of humidity, ideal for the creation of lightning. Of course, he didn't intend upon fighting at all, though that goal was quickly interrupted by the presence of a mysterious cloud of what appeared to be a darkness aura of great power.

Ever the falsely yet still unfittingly happy boy, Caiside's weak smile grew, stretching from one side of his face to its opposite. The thrill of battle... The lovely sensation of death's door that the boy had lacked for a good week or so now... He desired it so. In compliance with his inner needs, Caiside cackled, his form quickly dissolving into a cloud of sparkling, red flurries. These shards jolted every which way, demonstrating an electrical nature.

Once his entire body had 'melted', the shimmering spheroid launched itself into the path of the unknown Xal's own cloud of aura. As it travelled, the ball deformed into the jagged shape of a lightning bolt. Not a second was spent in its new form, quickly, if not instantly, curving upwards and then downwards into the checkered pathway. A crater was not left, to Caiside's dismay -- however, a circle of glazed, scarlet scorchmarks found their home upon the stones.

Even faster than he dissolved, Caiside reformed into his usual shape, nearly a man with a decent stature. His cloak, now a bright hue of yellow, tainted the beauty of the surrounding landscape's greenish, meadowed gardens. A ring of wispy, cherry-tinted lightning revolved around the teen's waist, contrasting with his ridiculously colored mantle. "Yo! Whatcha' doin' here?"
(Caiside Haruke)
Through progression via air travel, a lone figure could be seen sailing just under the clouds above. Asura appeared to be steadily descending downwards, his eyes narrowing together as he came to realize that there was some sort of darkening fog above a portion of Nostvale.

 His lips pursed together, his great blackened wings extending as he glide around in slow, pacing circles. The sight itself was an odd one to behold to say the least, and then Asura's eyes widened in realization:

 The occultist had perhaps made another appearance?!

 Bulleting towards the scene, the large Drakanite appeared as a blur of sorts, before hovering in the air at last, his wings flapping at carefully timed intervals. Asura's head tilted up in annoyance, an aura of his own keeping the darkness at bay, seemingly disgusted with it's force as he grimaced.

 "Why do you keep showing up? And more importantly who are you looking for?"
(Asura Verenthorn)
Amy Wainwright: I know, I won't,
Amy Wainwright: And what's going on over there...?
He hadn't been paying much attention to the area around him, but when Amy pointed it out, he looked. "I'll be right back." He stood up, unwrapping his arm from Amy and floating over to the group on a whirlwind of magic, tilting his head curiously.

"What is going on?" His voice was aimed at anyone, but it was clearly guarded. He had a strong magical feeling about him, one much more than the average man. His fingers were curled around a staff, a frown placed on his face.
(Zanfiel)
Zanfiel: xD
Words and Movement- None of which was what he seeked. Priscilla and Sishio were not here, and thus, he was left with other responders. The silhouette levitated there for a moment, it’s head shifting slightly behind the fog to scan the entities that stood bravely before occultist’s gas.

From his perspective, relatively defined blobs took outlining shape of the entities in question. One of which, felt familiar- Glowing with a white-haze in the realm of darkness he traversed. The fog parted to reveal the newly arrival. Approximately an inch shy of 6 feet tall, levitating just inches more from the surface, awaited the caster whom terrified the civilians prior upon his entrance.

An exposed abdomen, ripped- was the first detail visible. Fine-tuned, with dozens of minor scratches, some of which turning out to be stab wounds, signs of impalement, and discoloration as a result of scabbing. His leathered flesh, once Yokai-hide was sewn to his body at it’s seems. Such, likely committed to with Shadowflame to torch and melt the flesh, and Hellstorm to tickle it together- searing it to his body.

His arms shown signs of exemplary blacksmith craftsmanship with a dark-look to it. Bars of metal twisted around his arms, encasing them like an armor, pronged at the shoulder blades with small spikes, and sharpened at the knuckles, finished with a boney-gray tone. However, such was not the most catching detail of this entity…

He brandished a hood that covered only up to the crown of his head, allowing those before him- Foreign and Familiar, to bare witness. A mask, borne of a human skull, sculpted to fit his face; A mark to shroud his identity. Upon them gazed, not eyes, but two symmetrical pits of void… Darkness, without emotion…

“If you know not of where the man, nor woman are… Stay out of my way…” He groaned, continuing his slow lumbering levitation, carrying his fog with him. Upon this small group, constant pulsations of gravitonic essence bared pressure upon them, almost as though the ground beckoned for their company.
(Xal)
Remaining airborne, the slight pressure of gravity wasn't even registered to him, as his body was without a doubt finely tuned. His arms rippled with muscle, and it was apaprent that he worked hard to maintain such a physique. Flapping his wings slowly, his eyes slitted together in a patient manner, a large cleaver and axe accompanying him this time around.

 Unlike his greatsword, they were actually sharpened!

 "Who is this man, exactly...?" He inquired, a bit nervous as he glanced over his shoulder and spoke low enough for only those near him to register his words.

 "We can not risk fighting in populated areas. If you're going to engage him, you should remove him from the city."
(Asura Verenthorn)
Caiside's maroon-tinted flames flared, a brightness flooding the surrounding area. A wave of harmless static washed outwards, likely frizzing the hair of those nearby, though not doing anything further. With no purpose other than to show off, the teen collapsed this expanded energy into his own aura, empowering it once again with a surprisingly potent, single bolt of electricity.

This man, Xal, was obviously the one who had inhabited the ruins of Alteros before his coming to Nostvale. Caiside was obviously no match, if his minor sensing ability was up to par, but the boy wasn't one to back down from his own teasings, his own proclamations. As such, he said, "I'm afraid I don't have enough energy to maintain my aura for much longer. Perhaps you'd fight me first, yes, brother?"

His use of the word 'brother' held a significance, a call-back to the pair of occultist's close meeting in the abandoned city of the Oscuri. With any luck, Xal would recognize Caiside as a Haruke, family, and refrain from killing, though there was no certainty. Even so, the boy was blinded by a lust for combat, a desire to clash endlessly with both his superiors and his equals. "Hurry up and answer, lest my power drains."

Caiside ignored the speech of Asura, blocking out everything aside from the thoughts of fighting and those who stood in front of those goals.
(Caiside Haruke)
The magic registered to Zanfiel, and he recognized it as occult magic. He also saw how the being had devoured several guards, as if they were mere strips of meat. So, he already had a goal to uphold. This thing had commited several murders and the guards here couldn't do anything about him. Zanfiel, however, was no mere guard.

The gravity magic was shrugged off with a smirk, the wind around him whipping away any such distractions. "I'm not quite certain what you're here for. Some person? I think you'll find it hard to get to them with the way you present yourself." He looked to Asura and frowned.

"This being shows no regard for life already. I doubt it would follow a challenge away from it." He clenched his fingers, and the knuckles could clearly be heard cracking. He stood in front of Amy defensively, his armor clinking slightly with the movement.
(Zanfiel)
She still wasn't entirely acclimated to people throwing around occultist magic like it was nothing... Nostvale had shown her that the first time around but dealing with it continually was still unsettling. However, no one had really done much with it whenever she could feel it. Things seemed safe after all.

This time around, nothing was peaceful. She hopped up, watching the rest of the theatrics, and decided to keep a closer look.

In all selfish honesty... she kind of wanted to see how Zan would deal with it. It was rather fun watching him work. She could help if need be.
(Amy Wainwright)
As much as he had a lust for combat, he wasn’t quite intending on it. However, his lack of care as to how he portrayed his magic use, did appear more destructive than it actually was. Obviously, he didn’t care for it, and the jump to conclusions from the entities before him only captured his attention for the worst. Caiside was in the worst of locations for the moment, especially with the appearance of Zanfiel and Asura.

“...Brother…” The words slipped from his lips in a dragged whisper, hissing with an animalistic crackle to finish. “...I haven’t time for scuffles for the man and woman wage far more importance…”
His head swayed slightly for the child, and then unto Zanfiel below, wincing behind his mask. He ascended into the air to join their ranks, and with the Drakanite’s half-shift taking shape- Assumptions were solidified.

“...You again… You’ve brought… Company.”

His motions, his voice, his very bodily presence all reeked of death… Undead? No, The undead couldn’t utilize magic on their own.
“Why…. Why do you keep trying to oppress me…” He asked in a quiet solemn tone, “Why do you keep following me…” He pushed on.


“WHY DO YOU KEEP TRYING TO HURT ME?!” He shouted out, a shrilling squeal whined behind his breath, an equivalent to a small motor going off to intensify his animalistic properties- A monster, in itself. His shout seemed to trigger a gravitonic response, far more aggressive. The fog that hovered close behind him brushed aside, it’s tail in the distance already beginning to clear. Few people, as insignificant as they were- All of which, the few that loitered into the gas, but slowly…

The gas condensed thanks to the gravitonic wave, but only enough to reveal the heads of those still wandering blindly in the fog, apparently leaving them with a dazed, and tired symptom; Drained to a weak degree. As for the magi before him, this could be seen as ‘warning shot’ of sorts. It was doubtful anyone would bother examining for any true damage behind the occultist at this point, considering he was already showing signs of aroused hostility- However, he did not make any sign of approach. He awaited for one of them instead to make a rush for his idle form.
(Xal)

Asura's arms remained folded together as he remained airborne for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he studied the depravity positively marinating around the occultist's being. His lips were pursed together in deep thought, assessing the situation carefully as he kept himself aloft within the confines of the air. The stagnation of further darkness disgusted him, a bright radiance surrounding his person as it'd fend off the darkened tendrils from approaching further.

 Asura's eyes were glowering with a fiery patience, though they carried an intensity that implied he was to not be trifled with. However, he did not yet move to land upon the ground, keeping himself level with the occultist as he spoke in a loud, yet clear-cut tone.

 "I do not wish to harm you, Occultist. But you are frightening people of this town, and if you're seeking people you'd be better off walking around like normal people. Cease your malefic aura and we can talk about this like civilized beings."

 Asura would slowly descend, wings receding as he landed upon the ground, opening his arms out carefully as he squinted upwards. It was a sign of trust, and one of the rare opportunities that Xal would recieve to actually be acknowleged as a person, or even an equal.

 "What will it be? Will you toss aside your pride and come join me upon the ground, and reign in your darkness? You are causing harm to the citizens of Nostvale, and if you continue on your current path, I'm sure someone less level-headed will seek actual harm upon you! Give your name, so we may avoid senseless blood-shed! I am Asura, of the Verenthorn family- what say you, masked man?"
(Asura Verenthorn)
Amy Wainwright whispers something.
May Hirano whispers something.
Just as Xal's 'brother' began his dash into the fog, into the fray, his aura flickered, a dying light. Unfortunately, it hadn't been long since Caiside's last training session with his hellstorm magic. Due to this, his mana was too drained to utilize the physically taxing technique properly. As much as the boy wanted to fight, as much as his bloodlust controlled him, logic won over.

Without his red lightning, no victory would be made that day, especially due to his additional lack of mana and, thus, lack of any other magics as well. Understanding the situation as well as his condition, Caiside said, "Fine, then. I cannot clash with you today, brothe-- " The lightning ring that once surrounded him perfectly dispersed with a smashing glow of crimson, signifying the final glow of hellstorm. Well, at least for the moment.

Shaking the embarassment off, the teen continued: "... Anyways, be wary, brother, for the next time we meet, I shall bring no company, and our battle will be only us." The last of the sparks that remained from Caiside's formerly potent lightning vanished, plunging his cloak into a much duller yellow, one that lacked its usual tint of scarlet. A swing of his cloak pushed the boy into the bushes, a rustling carrying him off beyond the group's sight, unless interrupted, of course.
(Caiside Haruke)

He looked to the Drakanite, tilting his head at his rather levelheaded response. Looking back to Xal, he didn't lower or lessen his aura. "I'd recommend letting those you absorbed go as well, less I show my 'less-levelheaded ways'." He frowned, and the air grew just slightly colder.

Why did he care so much for a city that wasn't his own? Perhaps it was simply the fact that innocents were being harmed, but this time he could do something about it. "So, what's it going to be? I could always defeat you and force them free, if I must."
(Zanfiel)

His brother had made his outro, and oddly enough- For the first time, someone had actually not only suggested, but took it upon themselves it upon themselves to not.... Attack him prior to knowing, to even begin understanding his purpose, and reasoning. The Drakanite had offered… Peace. How Xal yearned for such peace when he ventured blindly in the Wychwood forest. For a moment, his form softened up… Perhaps, these people weren’t so b-
A flicker of images kicked up, torrenting his mind; They reminded him of the many times he was beaten solely for his arrivals, his appearances. He had been hunted by the Glacium merely for escaping their captivity and dodging their attempts to question him- IN FACT, it was -this- very man that appeared in his memories once before.

Such a memory played back as soon as day, alongside a drakanite woman, as they were recovered from Wychwood. Arsa and himself were recovered in a state of near-death, it was -THEN- that he encountered Zanfiel. The distaste between the two, at least from Senju’s perspective… Was resparked.

...He remembered that moment as clear as dead, bringing a mild twitch. He hardened up, his right fist tightened as proof of such. Did that mean this man was Glacium too? Was he here to take him down? Could he be trusted?

It was clearly noticeable that his attention was -locked- upon Zanfiel, unmoving for the moment. The fog naturally dissipated, for his aura was condensing to his form now. There was no need to spread out his aura to ‘see’, for now he honed all of his focus upon one sole entity. He had found -a- target, as for his next move, it was heavily debated.

The guards behind him that entered the fog appeared disoriented, likely soon to recollect themselves to rush to the caster for his senseless antics.

“...You…. I remember you… Glacium Knight… You have distaste for those of my sort. Don’t you?”
(Xal)
"I don't truly care, if you leave me alone. I have more important people to attend to. Stay out of trouble, and I'll stay out of your affairs. Sound fair enough?" He replaced his staff on his back, folding his arms and waiting for a response. He glanced to the bench and noticed that Amy and that other girl were gone. Well, they must've gone to the castle. They hadn't passed him by, afterall, and Amy would tell him if she was leaving.

"My time is wasting." He seemed impatient. He didn't like leaving Amy alone, and with the way that girl had acted last time, he didn't necessarily trust her alone with that girl either.
(Zanfiel)
The attitude! The voice! It was undeniable now- This -was- that same Glacium Knight. Even now, he belittled him, condescending him as though he bode a far greater authority. His breathing intensified abit, blaring with a hollow feel within his mask. “...You Glacium are all the same. You, in particular-” A hum buzzed around his figure, now fixing himself in an aerial horse stance.

“-You see to us, as beneath you? Don’t you dare!-” A concentrated wave of gravitonic energy slammed down, aimed for only one target. It was a push, one that replicated the force of a full-blown punch to the face, aimed to send him pushed a few feet. “-Condescend me, Glacium.”
With that, conflict seemed inevitable, and oddly enough, this ‘monster’ would rather not see the destruction nor harm of the same people he’d come to seek aid from, if he had the power to stop it.

Thus, he slowly ascended higher, his empty husks glared back down to await Zanfiel’s approach. The initial attack was taunting enough- He didn’t find Priscilla nor Sishio, but he did get something he was looking forward to, a match to quench his bloodlust and hunger for battle. Finally, yet another release for his insatiable wrath.
(Xal)
He'd float up into the sky after him, a frown heavy on his face. The punch was something he hadn't expected, but his wind dispelled most of the force until he was only thrown back a foot. "I've been punched harder for insulting a mans pride! Is that the best you have to offer?"

Now he was justified in this fight. And, given the things hostile intentions, he'd give his full strength. As he floated in the air, the clouds would darken around him. The wind whipped viciously, and the air grew humid with moisture, before nearly freezing. A hurricane was about to begin.

Water droplets, massive, began to fall to the earth, and even larger amounts waited in the clouds around them, to be used in the battle. The wind carried them rapidly, throwing them all about. Hail began to fall as well, slamming down to the waiting ground. Nostvale would feel the effects of his wrath. "Come then, let us see what you can do!"
(Zanfiel)
The air grew cold, wind began to kick up and toil with his flight trajectory abit. It didn’t take too long, before water struck his body. Rain… Not ordinary rain either. It was in this rain and the cold, brisk gusts of wind that sculpted a world of mana around him. The very skies he once blindly flew within, was colored with hues of moving shades of blue. Without straining himself to focus his senses upon Zanfiel, he could -see- him in detail. Where the hurricane could make it harder for others to see, it made it easier for Xal. For once, he could fight a battle on ‘fair’ terms.

Hail battered at his form, the chunks shattering upon his shoulders to induce mild pain- Pain that could be ignored, but present none the less. He was outmatched, yet staying only for his pride. This was not a crime against man, but against Zanfiel- But in Xal’s perception, this was merely payback for the tone used against him. It was a pity that those below would fall victim to the fallout of such a clash.

“...You want to see what I can do, Glacium?” His chest popped out, and arms flexed at his sides. Instantly, a bubble to shape around his form, combating the ambience drawn by the wind. A white outlining encompassed with black static that tickled his shaping: Occultism with a telekinetic touch. Shards manifested around his form, diamonds that shined against the falling hail to distinguish from the hostile enviornment, swayed for his form. Glass-like, transforming into fine needles of cosmic energy and fading through his clothing and flesh; Such energy empowered him, pried from an alien source for such confrontation.

“...Then so be it…”
(Xal)

Remaining on the ground, Asura's arms enclosed together, frowning as his head craned up a bit. Studying the duo from above, his eyebrows furrowed together as rain came down.

 Oddly enough, they bursted into steam as they neared up, flames surrounding his body at a steady rate.

 ".....Great." He muttered.
(Asura Verenthorn)
Zanfiel was protected by the eye of the storm. The magic that Xal threw at him was near pointless, being tossed aside by the raging winds and the pure magical aura that Zanfiel exuded.

Xal, on the otherhand... He was not so lucky, to be within the eye of the storm. Spears of sharpened ice flew at him, followed by bombs of rock, water, wind whipping at his form. The ground around them was growing to be gruesome indeed, torn about by the various magics that Zanfiel thew out.

"IS THAT THE BEST YOU HAVE, TO WASTE MY TIME WITH!?" He sounded only angrier that he was forced to have less time with Amy, and so the sky raged more. It was a pity for the people of Nostvale, that they had to witness such an event take place.
(Zanfiel)
The thought of victory suddenly seemed to grow distant. This battle was taking a turn for the worst on his part, one-two, three spears launched for his torso- threatening to impale him. He snarled at the manifestation pinpointed with his mild sensing capabilities, giving a strong abdominal pulsation of gravity to attempt stopping them… To no avail.
One. Two. Three new wounds now marked his torso, the spears thankfully didn’t pierce through his body, but broke through the Yokai-hide, and pierced into his flesh to induce bleeding.

His breathing was growing heavy, and dizziness was setting in. The sensed presences seemed to blur with his movements, making it pestersome to get a lock on Zanfiel. “...Is that… All you’ve g-” Something hit him hard from behind, knocking one of the spears out of his chest and down for the village below. If the guards that were dazed by his fog weren’t experiencing hell before? They were feeling it now. A sphere of Earth exploded on impact with his pact, leaving his mouth agape, and a croak of pain to escape from his lips.

“...Y-...You vermin…” Yet another manifestation closed in, this time a manifestation of wind, balled up in a sphere to knock into his form. However, this one caught his attention upon arrival. He forced himself to turn, weighed down by these oddly, obnoxiously heavy rods of ice. The hush of the wind sphere quickly approaching only urged him to hasten, just barely evading it with the spears shifted in it’s trajectory.

A sting! A cringe… But finally, relief. The stagnamites of ice were shattered from his form, now raining down upon those below without mercy, battering on innocents, and magi alike. Their battle was going to take their toll on -someone- or -something-, it was only a matter of time. He turned for Zanfiel whom levitated within the eye of the hurricane, straightening out his body to fly full-speed for him, despite the winds that walled off his attempt. He had an idea…

From his sensory perspective, the winds painted the scene in a constant churning motion around a spot of void, amoungst it’s center, the opposing magus… If he could, close this ‘circle’, perhaps he could get closer to hitting his opponent.

His hands clasped together, with a resounding clap. The force alone seemed to be the aftereffect of gravity and cosmic magics enhancing his physical strength, shutting out all presences between the masses of flesh. A build up of mana, centralized between his slowly departing fingers, revealed just what he was up to. A small gleaming dot, taking form and expanding with time… The winds slown around his immediate form, redirected for the manifestation.

“...Don’t… “

A distinct hum evolved into a thunderous bass, filling this storm with audible volume for all those below to hear. It descended, leaving the air within the clouds to tickle as though in the wake of a mirage- It was as though, a new eye was under creation.

“Underestimate…”

His fingers slowly parted, allowing such a sphere to take shape, an attempt to stretch out the eye of the storm in a strategic combative method.

“Me…”

It was finished, with no effect upon it’s caster, the trump card had been unleashed…
Xal had manifested a Black Hole...
(Xal)

The black hole was a new surprise, and Zanfiel reacted as such. He flew backwards, away from the eye of the storm, into the waiting hurricane outside... And didn't seem to care at all. Projectiles narrowly missed him, spears aimed straight for his heart seeming to change diection just slightly, just enough to fly away from him.

Xal would not be so lucky, once more. The eye collapsed in on him, and the storm seemed to follow. Zanfiel was not pleased. The sheer presence of projectiles likely saved his life more than it harmed it, as rocks and ice careened into each other, shattering and being knocked out of the way, as wind continued to tear and rend at the mans form.

A hunk of stone would slam into the mask he wore, sending a long crack sideways through it, before Zanfiel frowned. He floated over to be right above the man and held his hand out. A simple beam of water expanded out, and grew, before slamming into Xal, sending him flying down, down, down. Into the water waiting below.

The storm stopped instantly, the stone fading to dust, the winds kicking down and the water and ice fading to be mere precipitation. Following the path he blazed, the Ex-Glacium landed at the waters edge, a heavy frown on his face. "So, still think I'm underestimating you?"

He was breathing heavily, and his face was actually bleeding from two locations. His nose leaked blood, flowing straight into his open mouth, or clattering to the stone, while he spit out a tooth. It clattered with a metallic sound, and it would be made obvious the tooth was already fake. Silver, coated in blood from the forceful removal.
(Zanfiel)
Asura braced his arm before him, squinting a bit as the ground shifted abruptly, the usage of magic being thrown around violently. Shards of glass violently scoured through the air, rain still pouring downwards as his hair became slightly matted.

 He suckedh is teeth gently, the cascade of explosive power being distributed amongst the pathways. He'd burst through the worst of the brunt, scooping up civilians and carrying them out of the way, instead of passively looking on. One small child was almost struck with a shard of glass, using his cleaver to slice the projectile in half before scooping them up.

 He'd launch them into the air, evasively moving about before he turned to see the fighting ending. As the two collapsed downwards, he'd glide over towards them, he'd extend his hand over Zanfiel.

 "Stay still." He muttered, a warm aura surrounding his hand as he attempted to heal him..but the sensation suddenly went cold, causing him to yell out in pain and fall downwards.

 His mana circuits were still cut off, and the back up was naturally excruiating. He gritted his teeth, clutching his hand as he panted a bit, gazing down at it in disbelief---Why would the Gods cast him aside, stripping him to the core? He felt useless at that moment, only able to move Zanfiel away from the occult male.

 "Are you both satisfied? You damaged the area over pride, and a small child almost lost her life. Do you not care for the well-beings of others, outside your own magi? These people have lives of their own, and should not be discarded casually. Atone for your actions."  He stated quietly, a harshness added into his voice.
(Asura Verenthorn)
Asura Verenthorn: <*Of course removed the occultists out from the pond before he spoke, okay.*>
Asura Verenthorn: I don't want anyone to be arrested for this, but it seems inevitable given the damage.
Zanfiel: I merely defended myself... Though I may have gone a bit too far.
Zanfiel: Regardless, this man assaulted me first.
She had headed out in time to watch the final moments of the fight, a strange, surreal picture of clouds being drawn into some sort of anomaly. The occultist, in the end, splashed into the water next to her.

She sighed. Seems Zan was fine after all. Forget whatever May said, she reminded herself.

More importantly, he was being yelled at... she ran on over.
(Amy Wainwright)
-CRACK-
The scene moved in slow motion, a moan croaking from beneath his mask, as a line intricately twisted and curled a straight path across his mask. A full-on impact with a rock, left a bassful groan dragged out in the short moments- However, it was not what marked the conclusion of this scuffle. The section of his mask that covered his mouth and nose had fallen off, and his head faced the flat end of Zanfiel’s open palm.

It was point-blank, and there was no use dodging… He could only stare back for what he imagined to be his face, with a snarl that could be easily visible with thin streaks of blood seeping from his lips. The moment grew tense, and time began to catch up to itself.

“GLACIUM TR-”
A flash of of blue consumed his vision, mana swallowing him whole and blinding him for the moment. The torment of the winds that whistled at his ears, only intensified the pain he felt of the beam boring into his chest. He couldn't find the air to breath, suffocating as he descended. The scene seemed to blur together, until-

The beam forced him down to the local pond just outside the pinnesula. A roaring splash swooshed at any of those saved by Asura with new participation- harmless water. Xal, on the otherhand, was now in a slown descent for the bottom of that pond. He could feel… Nothing beneath the surface. Only the cold of the water around him proved his as company now, along with the darkness. It’s ambience against his plugged eardrums felt oddly, relaxing- However, his lungs could only bare it for so long.

His fingers twitched, and mind trailed back to the battle and it’s results.
”Defeated… To be subjugated yet again, to be undermined… No, I am greater than this. I have far more value… Kudlak brought me back…”
He snapped back to reality, amidst an attempt to pull him out of the pond before he descended to far beneath the surface.

“FOR A REASON!”

His finished statement, turned out to be a random outburst. His arms curled inward, pulling away from Asura in a final burst of energy.
Had he managed to get any sort of remote leadway, the only direction he aimed to go… Was up! Up, and away from this situation as fast as he could, with the cry of the winds bending at his mercy…
He lost this fight, and thus, he was going to attempt to flee.
(Xal)
Zans hand snapped up to the fleeing man, and to put it simply, the winds drug him back down. As he tried to defy gravity, the mages own magic was simply too much for the battered occultist. He was jerked back to the ground, thrown onto his back uncermoniously.

Standing over him, Zanfiel tilted his head curiously, looking around with a sigh. "I am not going to prison for defending myself, though I'll answer any questions the proper authorities may have. I'll be in town for quite some time. As for this..." He looked away from Asura back down to Xal. "I'm sure the guards are curious why he was so... Hostile as well. I think they'll have a nice comfy cell for him."

And then he was done, turning his back on the situation completely to face Amy. "So, what'd I miss with that girl? She drug you off to the castle, I imagine it was something important." He had a cocked brow, obviously curious what would involve that.
(Zanfiel)
Asura would wrap his arms around the Occultist as he came back down, before pinning him straight into the ground with a single foot. Keeping his hands separated, the large Drakanite pursed his lips together, perhaps in distaste.

 "Do not flee when you have yet to atone for your mistakes. I still have not recieved your name...will you share it now, or will you be locked away as a disgrace, with no name. Come peacefully and you'll be released soon enough, you need not make this worse." Asura softly stated, staring down at Xal.

 "Where is he going to be arrested?"
(Asura Verenthorn)

His failed attempt to flee brought him face to face with Asura. He recognized his essence, as faint as it was now. It seemed almost voided, perhaps even stripped from his core- But the speed and strength proved superior to Xal’s own at the moment.
He was bested, and caught- All because of his failure to surrender his pride to another, to one that once condescended unto him. The many guards that were once taken by Xal’s occultistic fog were gathering around to gaze upon the magi that held their incapacitator.

His hunt for Priscilla and Sishio, only got him confrontation with Zanfiel and Asura. It angered him, infuriated him- Not that he simply lost, but couldn’t stand for himself against those whom he figured looked down upon himself and his people. How could he lead, when he could not stand… Did Kudlak make a mistake in bringing him back for another chance?

His brow twitched at the thought, ”No.” He shook his head slightly, finally picking up his eyeless gaze into Asura’s own. He was destined for something greater, he was sure of it, and he was intent on committing to just that.

“I… Am what stands, when others can not.” He started, white noise whining behind his voice, weak but present. “To those forgotten by the light, I guide by the darkness… I am one capable of true sight, in the world of the blind… I… Am Arachnis, and I am an occultist, with a purpose…” With that, there was nothing more to say.

He went silent, bitter at his defeat, and thus forced to contemplate for the future.