toe to toe the line

[Florian]

FLORIAN

Ash 6 122

Florian had not seen nor spoken to Rickter much of Searing, though not on purpose; adapting to these new surroundings and this newfound power was exhausting, not to mention having to somewhat wrangle the duo of Kathar that he had accidentally released. One tended to get into more trouble than the other, but Florian was not one much for disciplining others. Adrian and Marcel sat on a bench closer to the ground level of the Proving Grounds. They had not seen Florian's full display of magic and combat, and Florian, too, wanted to explore his mastery of Aether Siphoning.

That was what it was, wasn't it? Mastery. He could fight, yes, but in time, and in secret, he could see the flows of aether around them and in everything. He had learned to glean from that flow of aether the cues, the fractals, the heavy scent of flowers that marked the use of magic by different people. It wasn't just that; he could conjure aether in any form. It had protected him from the mistborn monsters in Zaichaer, wreaked havoc in Gel'Grandal, and now, in Kalzasi, he was able to use it.

Florian stood in the Proving Grounds, though not in the primary fighting ring. He stood off to the side, in a smaller zone. There were other spars going on elsewhere, but here he was waiting for Rickter. He had sent him the invitation in the form of a letter, for convenience. It wasn't threatening or angry, but an invitation to release any anger or pent up resentment, with no stakes. Florian had spent many years picking fights, regardless of whether he would win or lose, to relieve the stress that the city of Zaichaer put him under. It took a long time for him to realize the why, but it made sense. Now he actively sought to spar, just like he had asked Aoren.

Florian slowly siphoned aether from his earrings to prepare for the fight. He didn't siphon much; though they were average quality shards, he knew that Rickter was a skilled mage along with his other fighting capability and he didn't want to ruin his appetite.

[Rickter]

toe to toe the line

Ash 6th, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

When he had received a letter the day prior asking to meet at the Proving Grounds, Rickter had not honestly expected to receive such an invitation from such a person. Especially one such as Florian. Rickter knew, only very little, that the Lysanrin was now essentially a Demigod. He knew because like Talon the horned man smelled of burning ozone before, the raw potency of the Aetherium itself practically radiated off him last they met. He knew that Florian was also powerful with antimagic also, something that troubled even Rickter's powers of Negation when discovered at the time. Now though?

Now the wolf had reason to actually see Florian, as if there wasn't enough motive before, but between regrounding himself and the cycle of developments that played out, Rickter didn't exactly have time to make plans within the last couple of months. Things had changed, were changing actually, and the wolf needed to make sure he and his Pack were prepared for the forces at work. Thus, when he arrived it was in the simple fur-padded vest he would wear, over the beige trousers one would normally find him in when he would put on a shirt. Kalzasi was cool to him but certainly not cold, yet, so when he felt the crisp northern breeze on his skin; the wolf could only lightly smile in response to the cooling sensation.

The Proving Grounds had been a staple to him as of late, the wolf having spent much of his recent bouts here, fighting pack member after pack member no less. He learned well the values and limitations of himself and his packmates that day, and the wolf would never again forsake them as he did before. Which is probably half the reason why it had taken this long for him to even reach out to Florian, given that Rickter wanted to spend a bit of time reassociating with the Lysanrin whenever that time finally came.

A challenge to spar though had been the last thing he expected. And so when he walked on the battlefield of their arena, those who were also present noticed the shift in the air. A subtle cold that always followed the wolf wherever he went, noticed by the kiss of a breeze once he finally arrived. At the mere sight of him, those who were at practice stalled, eyes wide as the wolf himself walked through the center in stride. He approached the side of the arena where Florian had lingered, and noticed the two Kathar that had been brought back to Kalzasi with him.

Both were benched and kept to themselves more than anything, which is why the blue eyes of the wolf shifted from them, to the Lysanrin who he came to answer to just now. "I honestly didn't expect you to reach out to me. But, I'm glad you did." He admitted as he noticed the smell of burning ozone again, the tickle in his nose enough to itch as he nearly winced from a sneeze. "You sure you wanna do this?" He was as open as ever to test limitations, be they his own or the challenger in question, but he had never actually seen Florian as a fighter before. Maybe not then, but Rickter wasn't going to carry such mentalities with him now.

Not when he had multiple lives to account for, and a soul he would have to go to hell for and back just to save.

"What are the terms of this match?" He then checked with a fold of his arms, as he stood tall with eyes curiously locked on Florian.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Telion" "Hannah" "Patrick"

[Florian]

Florian stood and waited for Rickter stand across from him before he said anything. His intention was not to win any spar, but wanted to practice, he wanted to stretch, he wanted to learn more about Rickter. The demigod had begun to realize that everyone displayed their baggage when they fought. Every single past fight came through in their methods, their style. Their training, their heritage, their thoughts and anger. It all came through with every step and every swing of a sword and every cast of magic. Even the decision to use magic or not held weight.

He had nothing to prove in the Proving Grounds. He just wanted to evaluate Rickter.

Florian formed what could be construed as brass knuckles, but made of crystalized aether, over his hands, with the aether he had siphoned from his earrings. He could just as easily reabsorb this aether back into himself. He looked at Rickter, his eyes mirror-silver.

”Do your best, Rickter. I don’t care who wins or loses. We will spar until we decide we’re done.” It followed that Rickter didn’t realize he could be a fighter, and Florian could only assume that he had never faced someone who had truly involved themselves in the art of aether siphoning. Even now, Florian did not know the true depths it could be used for offensively, but he knew how to protect himself.

He didn’t know much about weapons, though, and he would have to learn rather quickly if he didn’t want to lose to the swing of Rickter’s sword. He would have to watch very carefully -- but from his previous experience seeing Rickter fight, the man relied heavily on magic.

”I’m ready when you are!” He called out. And then he waited for Rickter to prepare. Adrian and Marcel were hardly paying attention, though Rickter had arrived, laughing about a fight that was happening nearby.

[Rickter]

toe to toe the line

Ash 6th, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

The wolf's gaze never once lifted from Florian when he observed, awaiting to hear the rules of engagement once the challenger had made his preparation for battle. The scent of hot ozone flared through the air when the Lysanrin worked his wonder, and generated crystalline knuckles that accentuated his very fists. So that was the stipulation of the terms then? Well, that made things simple enough.

It was a battle of attrition between the both of them then, a spar to see which one might either overpower or outlast one another. The catch being, something Rickter felt thankfully aware of even, that magic, in general, wouldn't likely function normally in Florian's presence. "Understood." He agreed with a slight smirk in response, also mindful of the other warriors that'd come here to train today. Those poor sods...

Nobody had expected there to be any Proving today, honestly there wasn't even a plan for one, but it sure would've made a great spectacle for the rest of Kalzasi to watch. Not that the wolf pined for an audience, he honestly felt bad enough for everyone who would likely be shitting themselves in about two minutes. It was obvious Rickter would have to go a little beyond his normal methodology of approach with his opponent here. Florian being more than just an antimagic medium now, the wolf had to likely prepare for one hell of a discharge rate with his own magic. And not to mention the fact this would be a close proximity match as well.

Florian at initial glance never had the look of a serious combatant before, yet there was never mistaking the fighting spirit Rickter had sensed in him not long after they'd met. First in the realm of dreams, and then in the waking world where Fate's strands crossed their paths. "It'll only be a moment." He assured Florian before his blue eyes lulled to a gentle close, and the breath taken through his nostrils seeped deeply into his lungs. As the wolf continued to breathe deeply into his gut, the air around him developed a thickening pressure that overshadowed the arena.

Several of the other warriors in the arena that were closer to Rickter staggered, those within the combat zone suddenly drawing their attention to the other side. "What in Vhexer's name is this?" A Blonde Synnekar with remarked with a twinge of his wings, as a couple of the others stammered in response to what they saw transpire. "Wait a minute, isn't that-"

"Oh shit!" The other side of the arena already felt densely covered by his aura, as Rickter's exhale led to the generation of a cerulean mist silhouetting his figure. "That's Rickter Maze! Guy's already fighting another even after his latest Proving!" Yet it seemed like someone in the group knew what was best for them, especially when the wards around the arena started to flare up in activation. The very weave of the shields seemed to ripple in response to the ambient aether within Rickter's aura, before the Negation rune on his left shoulder and the Kinetics rune at the base of his throat thrummed vibrantly.

The light which burned from them lessened as both runes spread with definition, interconnecting in branches across the entirety of his shoulder as well as the left nook of his lower neck. The aura flared from cerulean to silver when his eyes glimmered, the pressure finally lifted when two small orbs of silver light manifested in orbit around his form. The wolf felt charged now, vibrantly full and posed of aether. The question was how he would withstand Florian and his antimagic, and for how long before the Demigod might actually recede. "We should... probably clear the arena."

Finer words were never spoken in Rickter's opinion. He wasn't going to be able to just take every blow on this one, not when he could smell the very aether burning off of Florian now. As much as he hated to inconvenience others in a situation such as this, he had to match his opponent to the best of his ability. Thus with another quick breath in Rickter exuded a layer of aether into his aura, generating a negation field that would hopefully at least lessen the time it took for his shields to wither away.

The wolf was literally facing the very anti-force of magic, that much he knew at this point, and so applying his own antimagic against such concept was already a challenge. Nevertheless, the next exhale generated another layer that would only dampen what it could of Florian's aura. Suppression would be impossible, but if his ward were clever like water, he could simply redirect the flow of the aura like a current within the Flux. Finally, with a raise of his fists, the two silver lights danced around him synergetically.

From the surface of his knuckles on down to his fingers, his entire hands became coated in a crystalline layer of aether, as he laced the first task of the wards into them while he pointed the left toward Florian. "You make the first move." He offered with another layer of aether laced over his crystalline shield, the last of his enchantments instilled as he tapped into his Kinetics rune next. He had generated a coated shield over his hands to physically withstand the full brunt of Florian's physical might, at whatever magnitude He came at Rickter with no less.

The second ward instilled wasn't to reflect but redirect each aetheric backlash into the aura around him, as he felt confident each struck block would help venerate the area ward around him. The trick was making sure he could not only keep up, but even outpace Florian by physical nuances as well. Success wasn't an option Rickter aimed to achieve in this fight either, no, if Florian wanted him to give it a good match...

Then the wolf would make certain his challenger was satisfied by his effort.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Telion" "Hannah" "Patrick"

[Florian]

Florian inhaled. Rickter was a well known fighter, and he could see as the man prepared his magic through his aether sight. The flow of magic into the familiar fractals of wards, and the unfamiliar-but-expected floral smell. He wasn't overflowing with aether, but that pointed towards other solutions, other sources of aether — his vitality, his divinity. His divinity, so fresh, so unexplored, so unknown. It scared him, and that fear was another chain that held him back. How could he preach what he feared?

Florian took a step towards Rickter, and then dashed towards him, closing the short distance and swinging with force the right aetherite-fist towards the wolf's chest. It was an easy, telegraphed punch, and it was likely Rickter could sense the aether being channeled in it. But Florian was prepared — no, expecting Rickter to block the punch with his arm. His eyes lit up in something akin to joy when the block happened, and then the true magic happened.

—

Aether siphoning was, primarily, a magic of reaction. It did not function well on its own, without outside aether — unlike most mortal races, Lysanrin were cursed from channeling any inborn pools of Aether. World magic, which took aether from the environment, was not bound by this curse. But it prevented them from taking runes, and from using their own inborn magic at any given moment. No, it was a magic that could only be practiced in the presence of outside aether, that which the Lysanrin could steal, siphon, absorb, consume. Aether that they made their own, that risked corrupting them, that could overflow if they drank too deeply. It was a line to tread that Florian had not tread yet so dangerously.

The aether that made up a negation ward was exceedingly orderly. Negation was a magic that followed rules, and followed them explicitly. Aether did what it was told to do, and it complied, exactly as it was instructed. It did not allow much room for user error, but for a masterful practictioner, it was a truly versatile use of aether. The aether that comprised a ward was patterned, and though those patterns could be layered and creative, they did not act outside of their scope.

—

At the moment of contact, Florian siphoned the aether that comprised his weapon in a fraction of a second, his fist completing the punch and making contact with Rickter. He saw the ward then, the spiraling fractals, and grabbed the aether in his fist, as if it were a mutable object, and caused a Disjunction in the magic. It was not just disjunction — no, this aether was orderly, compliant, and he forced it to defy not only the task it was set to do, but the structure, the flow. The disrupted, rebellious ward returned to an unstructured aetheric state, and pushed back against Rickter with a wave of force, like a broken dam.

At the same moment, Florian punched with his left arm, only to open his hand and touch the other ward, siphoning what he could in the brief moment that Rickter was stunned by his own magic rebelling against him. He smiled in that moment. Rickter would have difficulty recovering his magic for at least a few seconds as the anti-magic pervaded his aether. The wolf's plan worked under the assumption that Florian was a predictable being, that he would fall in line with a predictable habit.

Rickter did not know what Florian would fight like, and he had not revealed what he knew, what he had even thought he could do, until now. Not even to himself.

—

Florian was no longer a mortal. This was a fact he struggled to consider, that this Way shown to him by Mother Fate was his own. Aoren spoke truly - he was not just someone rebellious. He was Rebellion. His mother, dear Ava, had encouraged such temerarious behavior. From his early childhood he had the burning ember of rising above his circumstance regardless of what was expected for him. But he was childish, immature, and he struggled to truly grasp his domain for what it was. He oscillated between fearful and fearless, the struggling confidence of a man unsure of his place in the world. But he had been given a place in the world. How could he preach breaking free of chains if he struggled to break free from his own?

When he was a child he had been afraid of the dark. That very dark now provided him comfort. When he was a child he had been afraid of Kalzasi. That same city now provided him safety. His scars were now golden, cracks in his skin shown to the world for their beauty. Ever chain made him stronger when it was broken, every scar made him more beautiful when it was healed. It was not just the liberation that was vital, it was the process, the defiance of circumstance. He was not as concerned with the freedom it entailed as he was with the deliverance.

[Chronicle]

Name: Florian

Points: 10
Magic: These points can be used for magic?
Knowledge: 6 Lore Points
Injuries: n/a
Loot: n/a

Name: Rickter

Points: 10
Magic: These points can be used for Negation and Kinetics.
Knowledge: 6 Lore Points
Injuries: n/a
Loot: n/a