The Tale of a Lion and a Fox

[19:10] The cracking of bones, the sizzling of the skin, and the vermilion flames that enriched her skin and wrapped around her entire being was seen. Soft, skin that the fire was plucking away and showing the skin underneath it, yet not a sign of pain or stopping. The flames, even though they were eating at the delicate flesh, was also protecting them from harm - protecting them from the world.

Around her, the only thing that was capable of being understood was the red that present in their vision. Yellow strekas every now and then came to shroud that red, but nothing more of note was truly evident. The long, every extended lengthy claws that were sharpened enough to cut through skin and rip through bone protruded the skin, causing bleeding - yet when the blood came it quickly dispersed to ashes.

The smell of iron, copper, molten rock - a trail of flames, that was all that was going to be evident; even trying to talk to this enraged state of the Kitsune proved to be fruitless. Yet, when here sienna eyes and the black-lines made contact, the only thing that came into collision was the ever-wrapping flames of her person going through her hand and encasing it with the fruits of her labor.

The ground cracked and the sound of sandals drawing near could never be so evident, and the growls that escaped her prisoned throat was more than enough to certify what she wanted, to be free of the anger and violence - to be whole once again.

However, that wasn't going to happen yet.
(Yasuyoshi)
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[19:21] It'd been a trip, one that the Oscuri fallen from grace. Had intended to make for months. Yet, their health's faltering following the experiment which stole his Reika or perhaps which freed him of it. Had left the man unable to travel more than short distances without aid.

Dust was kicked up by the man, not from his nyeshk boots nor from a thunderous charge. No it was from something much more telling, a cane. The silvered spike at the end digging into the hard stones of the volcano. Each step assisted by a hard stab into the stone. Every moment in such intense head hat been excruciating to endure.

Even as the sweat coated his brow and the armor sagged loose over an increasingly gaunt frame. The man knew that he had to overcome the obstacles he'd faced before. It wasn't something as simple as visiting a former home. No, this had been the site of his second great failing.

Abandoning the town of Aurum.

Though at the sight of the inferno-engulfed kitsune the Oscuri couldn't help but grimace. Even amid the flames, even amid the effects of a genderswap, even with the heat-sickness that was starting to make breathing so hard.

That mask was clear, vibrant even in the Oscuri's dulled eyes that shone of jade. Engulfed in wrath and writhing in pain, why did they appear so much like how Ascalon viewed himself during the war for Dusk?

Had he not been filled with such an inferno of hatred for his foes. Had he not been so ready to charge into the maelstrom of carnage that war and battle provided. Yet, the Zanders could see that as of yet, this hadn't came to past. Perhaps the Kitsune hadn't yet became a feral beast. Yet.

"Yamayoshi, you've lost yourself amid the beat of drums. Why've you come to these old grounds of ash?" There was a flicker of memory that danced across the Oscuri's vision. Of a war that shook the heavens and would never end. Yet, it was just a memory not a vision. Not a call to arms, bound to eternal war was he no longer.
(Ascalon Zanders)
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[19:28] The city that was there turned to nothing more than ashes, wood that was once used to hold the houses of the Invidia came crashing down the instant that Famfrit and Yoshi attacked. The entirety of non-magi and refugees, the patter of their feet against the obsidian stone to escape what was happening didn't bring him delight. But, the screams and notions of the Oscuri did, it was akin to the voices of the wise to him, it was glorious.

Or, it would have if she was younger, still being capable of understanding what it was like to hear those screams. Right now, the only thing that was running through the head of the Kitsune was the notion and screams of the mother and father, their bickering and their arguments, the sound of skin being whacked and slashed at, the mental abuse and physical abuse of her.

If only it ended it there, but those same sounds, those same emotions, those same feelings only transferred to him. Because of that, the crackling of bones and the sizzle of skin was the thing present, followed by the overwhelming heat as the temperatures of the flames went higher, forcing a melting sensation as sweat was dripping down the very soul.

That anger, that rage, it didn't help that she was already hunting, seeing nothing more than the flames and the hatred that was ever so lingering and present. A simple step was enough to send the entirety of the wrapped flames to wrap around her right hand, now. This only forced their entire being to react, falling down to a knee, and letting the anger of the flames drench that single hand.

The things that happened in that hand was insane, flaming claws came out of the knuckles as that fist collided with the stone below. The gravity and heat of it overwhelming the stone and causing it to overheat and turn a vermillion red color. Steam appeared from the very center of it, going upwards.

The sensation of knuckles cutting against one another, pinching at one another, and forcing itself to rejuvenate with the same flames that sought to protect her and destroy others came. Yet, it only brought more agony, and that agony only made the horrible sights of the mother and him being abused become ever so frequent. It wasn't okay.

It was never okay.

Even when the question came, the only thing that came?

A growl, and screech.
(Yasuyoshi)
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[19:43] Beyond thought, beyond reason, beyond hope? Uncertainty was the only thing certain in moments such as these. The white tabard, displaying the cross of Azrael still ever present. Flickered amid the maelstrom that was the kitsune's wrath. What had caused such a degeneration? No, what foolishness did he have to ask such a question.

In their youth they'd seen such an expression of hatred before. Often amid those driven mad by the cruelties of the world. Those pushed to cause such pain and destruction upon others as a means of justifying their own anguish. For a time he'd thought only the warm embrace of his House. The wise guidance of his father, the loving embrace of his mother.

It'd been them that had raised an Oscuri to be better than the savage animal that he'd have been otherwise. He'd seen it in the eyes of every other Oscuri, that hatred for the world and desire to destroy it. Even his closest of mentors and friends had show-cased such a willing savagery.

He'd showcased much the same, in his days fighting under Akasha. What had made him the one to finally walk away with a semblance of his humanity when so many other of his kin had became ravagers?

Slowly the man struck his cane into the stone across from Yasuyoshi. She'd driven herself mad with fiery rage, pain brought about by her own wayward mana-circuitry going out of control. Normally, there'd be nothing one could do for such a condition.

Normally one would not find an expert upon the mana-network. A man who'd spent a decade learning it's intricacies and how to adjust and fix it's maladies. One would not find an Oscuri who'd tapped into the limitless potential of their House.

A shimmer, a flicker crossed the man's frame. Briefly traveling along those sickening black-lines. Coloring them a dark shade of blue, almost white. As a spectre floated above the Oscuri. A guardian of the Zanders household, a warden of it's descendants.

Yet, that power continued to vibrate about his mana-nodes, the atrophies network starting to swell with the raw power of the ralm beyond. Yet, his own mana no longer super-charged by the light of Azrael. Mixed with that spiritual power, taking it and melding it with the blood of a sick and dying man.

He was at the border of life and death always now. Just as he had been before, yet a different kind of intimacy. The former Oscuri raised a hand, their right. Formerly the weapon of Azrael now the tool of but a man. An eerie blue coating spread across it. The hand itself seeming to shimmer in and out of existence.

"Let me help you see."

Just as he spoke, the man's boots started to struck upon the hardened obsidian plains. Closing that protective gap between himself and the flame-mad Kitsune.
(Ascalon Zanders)
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[19:52] Even though Asacalon was there, endearing and in the middle of life and death, the only thing that Kitsune saw in his perphialls was a man holding a sword, letting those energies come across and sworn in with mystical aura that was so potent. The power of his was overwhelming even, but the flames?

The flames didn't know fear, they only knew pain, they only knew agony - the flames were weak in comparison to that of a calming man, but still strong enough to burn those in the way constantly. A deep breath escaped her mouth, but instead of air, it was ashes and black smoke that seemed to darken the area entirely, hiding her away from the sight of the Oscuri, and letting darkness come in.

But in that darkness? A long, arm of flames that were akin to a giant fox came across, sweeping and tearing at the armor that they were wearing, aiming to slap them all the way through the dark ashes, letting those flames sparkle that vermillion and letting that red and yellow color swipe at them before grabbing them in their fire clutches.

The armor would overheat, and it would sworn all around them before finally the collision of the rock and the Oscuri was made. A hole that went deep into the mountain. Only for the Oscuri to come out the other side, unscathed and landing directly in the snow part of what used to be Aurum. But with that landing that was perfect, another violent screech.

Yet, within that screech a simple ball of ever-growing fire and flames reached the zenith of the mountains, all before it compressed itself with the usage of the metaphysical and making it more into a flaming arrow. The direction of the arrow was random, unbeknownst, unknowing of where it would go or do, yet it landed just right there.

And, within that arrow, was her, a Kitsune that was envelop by the ever-growing, skin-tearing and bone-cracking flames that were ever so potent but true. Another, long winded screech as she stood hunched over. Her fire-like claws that were ever growing steadily landed against the snow, causing the snow to evaporate, and underneath it, grass land.

Yet that spring-kissed grass soon turned dry, and that dryness turned to blackness that swifted with the wind as a cold howl came from the mountain tops. Asacalon wanted her to see.

She wanted to be free, and be able to escape the notions, to see enlightenment.
(Yasuyoshi)
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[20:08] The approach hadn't been one of swift-feet, nor one of a trained warrior. It'd been the approach of a healer, as much as a being like Ascalon could heal. When the ash and smoke breathed free of the Kitsune he'd known it would lead to trouble. Knew that what came next would be as dangerous as any strike form a wild beast.

The shadows hid them and the Zanders was forced to bring a hand to keep the smoke from their breath. Knowing to breath such would leave them a coughing wreck as their strained lungs fought to battle the dark cloud and the betrayal of their master.

Though decades of warfare had not left the man's instincts without value. As a simmering sphere of translucent blue encircled the man's form. Shielding him from the collision into those hardened stones. Saved them even from the crash into the snow-plains below Aurum.

It'd been the start of the battle but it wouldn't be the end for the Oscuri. As they brought about a barrier about themselves, keeping not only the flames of the kitsune at bay but the biting cold as well. The man feared what an uncontrolled application of shifting temperatures would do to him.

It was for that reason that he'd fly into the air. A shimmering ball of spiritual power, the raw spirit of a man who'd lost what he was. The spirit of anguish as he looked back upon the kitsune and saw himself.

This time though they weren't lost amid the visions of a past life. Lost amid the visions of eternal war for the betterment of Humanity. No they where just a tired man, seeking to provide some light to the world.

Just a simple torch-bearer amid the darkness.

There was a flicker of silvery light amid the Zanders as he forced himself, forced his ailing body to move, to fight! The cane was cast to the side as their hand reached for the handle of the Lion's Roar. Though the weapon had long grown dull from disuse. It would serve it's purpose as the man twirled it about their head.

When the crack came it sounded as if a Lion was roaring, letting those who heard know it was not their pride which mattered. It was the lion's! It'd be that twirling mace-head which hurtled towards the fire-made kitsune.
(Ascalon Zanders)
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[20:17] Even the approach of the healer was nothing more than a threat to the primal, unwavering notion of the Kitsune. Yoshi was scared, and full of hatred of the events of Agartha, and that only forced her to keep on pursuing despite the ill intentions that came across her. She wouldn't want this if she was okay, she wouldn't want this if she was fine - but it wasn't up to him.

The flames were disguising them in a veil of flames that were akin to a destructive heat of flames to occur. The flames that continuously wrapped them through the battle, shielding them from the mana that was being thrown, and guiding the flames down upon them in the form of simple, long hands that slammed down upon them.

However, those long, fire-like hands wouldn't meet their mark to leave the exeuction needed. In fact, those flame like hands would bounce back and retract to the safety of her, causing the bones to continuously crack and the skin to continuously burn. If she waslucky, it was just the hands themselves that were being scorched and burned, going upwards at a slow pace.

It was disgusting, the sounds that were coming forth, yet there was nothing that she could do about it. She wasn't in her right mind, and as such, she would let the flames do their best. It would defend, and it would attack, but it would also bathe her in that same hatred to keep itself continuing and flowing. Letting herself float from the dying grass.

Yet, when Asacalon came in close proximity. A mighty screech came from her mouth, guided by the simple flames which caused the compressed gravity to simply push them away from them. The flames were controlling her every movement, making her do things that the kitsune couldn't do on her own, and it was exhausting to say the least.

Specatators and others that may have been watching could tell something was going off. Behind the flame-fused Kitsune, the single swipe of the tail soon started to be enwrapped by it. The flames taking the form of the long, fluffy, delicate-white and forcing it to tap against the ground and letting heat scorch it in its wake.

However, the flames wasn't done, but something was telling it to stop.

Telling her to take control of her actions, to fight about the flames - to control it - the simple words of a darling, little Kitsune - Miyo.

"You're better than this, big brother."

It wasn't enough to stop her, it wasn't good enough to bring her to a knee - to stop entirely, but something was holding her back, something was stopping her...

What was it?
(Yasuyoshi)
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[20:24] ** Yasuyoshi has inflicted an injury upon Ascalon Zanders. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[20:27] You learned the spell Flurry V2.
[20:34] Famfrit whispers something.
[20:38] Adonis Lelhua whispers something.
[20:43] The violence, the flames, the energy and the wind, all of these were dancing the part and forcing each of them to suffer because of this. Whip-play and swordplay came from Asacalon, and the retaliation? Simple, destructive flames that burned hotter than the lava in the mountains, destructive as the sun when it consume a planet in its movement, and ever hating to the point that it was blinding.

However, that hatred that Yoshi had for the parent overwhelmed them. The anger of Adonis and his cult pushed him further, but there was always that one chip telling them to calm down, to stop, to relax - to remember his purpose. The pink-haired, brown-eared kitsune dressed in blue, her emerald eyes coming into her mind as it seemed to slowly stop the relentless, dangerous assaults.

However, the ashes that she was causing by simply letting that fire touch the grassland made the wind engulf and absorb it. Soon the ashes would grow and release a black smoke that the Oscuri engulfed, causing their vision to blur and letting her sharp, flame-filled right claw to go through it.

Yet, even with that, it only pushed her to continue with the violence. The flames that wrapped around the claws pounced and burned at the armor, scratching at the white armor and going against the skin. Crossing against the black-lines that were there, simple, long claws that went deep but also cauterizing it, making it that much worse - burning it that much worse.

Now, they were in their grasp, and the final thing that she could do was just end it right then, right there, yet she stopped. The words of the little sister, the words of the friends that she made along the way - the flames of that same fiery passion stopped, entirely. Her vision was a simple blur that caused them to shake and take a step back.

"Stop!, Stop! STOP!" The words of the little sister plunged into her head, almost to combat the fires that were taking her form and manipulating that anger to feed. "You're better than this, better than father,better than those on the mountain" She took a step back, and soon found herself taking a deep breath to make the attempt to calm down, to realize the actions.

"...Asacalon?" The blood that was on their chest was coming, and a shake of their head. "What are you...doing here?" She looks over, noticing that she was no longer on the mountain, but in the snow. Her sienna hues looking at the crisp, burned hands that were showing harsher tones of the flames that Asacalon. The bones would creak, and the fair skin was a darker brown.

"I'm, sorry...I'm so sorry...." The actions committed and the pain that she felt around her hands were unbearable, burning even, a twitch and a grunt. Gravity pushing her down to the snow as she was once flying to just keep going back, scared to go forward.

Guilty as all sin, guilt eating her like a howling lion ready to feast, and the claws of them were on her soul and threatening to devour, she didn't stay for long.
(Yasuyoshi)
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[20:43] Adonis Lelhua whispers something.
[20:44] Famfrit whispers something.
[20:44] Famfrit whispers something.
[21:00] The fight wasn't ending swiftly, bad. The Kitsune was young, healthy, driven to greater heights by their own fire-ridden insanity. The battle was reaching a fever pitch as the ravager met the guardian.

Yet, he'd not given up despite the failing body he'd been left to live with. A burst of energy, pulled deep from the Oscuri's soul pushed him further and further. Attempting to reach those heights he'd stood atop before. Yet, it wasn't enough for the man.

Those blackened lines, mars of death wrapped about a man who'd once considered himself a true champion of Azrael. Now but a shell, a sicky corpse granted motion from will. He'd felt that the curse of Necromancy had been instilled in his birth. Was this how undead who'd lost their tethers felt?

He couldn't focus on that, no he had to focus on the battle at hand. Nyeshk boots sunk into the snow as barriers of mana flickered to life. Each shimmer blocking some vicious strike of flames or crushing weight. The longer the battle took place the more the Zanders felt their exhaustion starting to give out.

The guardian that floated about his frame was starting to shimmer and flicker under the stresses. Yet, as the battle reached it's most desperate point the Oscuri pushed harder, reaching deeper into the realms of spirits and the depths of his own. Those blackened lines flickers with a pale-life for but a moment.

In that moment he'd taken a ragged breath seeking the energy to keep going. What he found was toxins of smock and ash, trailing through his body and bringing his lungs to heights of pain he thought unimaginable.

Until the strikes hit, as claws dug into the man's ribs, cutting through plate and mail as if through butter. They could feel the burn as those talons cauterized throughout the swing. Already his mind was taking note of the position struck, it wouldn't kill nor damage his mana-nodes.

Yet, it'd end him in this battle. Into the snow the fledgling warrior crashed. They'd struggle enough to stay upright without the straining of battle, a strain which once would have brought endless euphoria but now only the weight of exhaustion.

Confusion and apologies, the signs of madness if he'd ever heard them. It was something he'd heard often from berserkers within Dawn. Those who followed the beating drum of their heart into battle. The only response gained from this beleaguered warrior was a rattling cough which shook those strained lungs.

Though as dulled eyes watched the Kitsune depart, he'd force himself up. Searching for a time, until they found that cane which had became a life-line. They'd rest a hand upon the circular top. Feeling a rejuvenating hum, a rush of familiarity.

The Lion, slinked back towards the lands where the sun set. Leaving behind the Dawn.
(Ascalon Zanders)
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