REGENT'S PASS

Kaleb would have not made a move against his army had he not been attacked first. In such a disadvantageous position, Weiss chose to press onward. Was it out of pride, or because he had confidence they could achieve what they were there for even with such a blow to their numbers? He was following the other male quietly, almost like a shadow… but he could see (and understand their motives, as it’d be odd if they did not show this kind of reaction) the uneasiness in their eyes, to have a potential foe show their true colors after pretending to be on their side.

Naturally, none of that happened. He was a man that followed his own words and promises strictly, no matter how unreasonable they might be. There was room for manipulation when he was acting as a king back at Tartarus, but it was not the situation he found himself in right now. He was a stranger, a guest, someone who was not invited nor wanted in this world. He’d stay… as long as that place and Weiss piqued his curiosity. 

- “Would you rather let  me go?”

- “Is it possible to win a battle without that many men by your side? And you would just let the one who slayed them free because you cannot stand them following your footsteps and enabling them to simply stab you in the back at a later time?

I believe I said I mean no harm… although I will not question your judgement, as it is only natural that you’d be suspicious of me right now. If you want me to leave, I will do so. But can you truly say you can win right now?

I shall put an end to whatever plagues you and gets in your way. This is the least I could do in this little trade of ours.”

He would get what he truly wanted later, demons were not so kind as to offer such tempting terms without expecting something else in return. He followed Weiss to the airship, but he’d patiently wait for his reply before joining the man in battle or simply leaving them when the battle was over.

The man had followed into the airship after all. He did not seem so large at this distance, where, if Weiss had been inclined to, he could have inspected the details on that black, black coat. But that only made Weiss grow warier.

“It remains winnable with these forces,” Weiss replied shortly, meeting the stranger’s eyes now that his men were momentarily occupied with operating the Lightship and he did not have to give orders. “The decrease in troops only means that I will have to play a somewhat larger role.” Even as he said those words, his mind sped with calculations. It wasn’t a bluff, entirely. The soldiers that already played their role for the most part, and he could surprise the Diva alone, while her powers had not yet awakened and her most dangerous weapons were inaccessible. At the same time, it was troublesome for the future. He had yet to invade Carbunculus, which would be more wary of him after this attack, and he needed sentries to manage the borders –

Ah yes, the “trade.” There it was: the catch. Weiss could actually have felt a kind of relief at that word, if it weren’t still inappropriate for the situation. It was much easier to deal with this stranger when he put that card out in the open. If the stranger hadn’t drawn it himself, Weiss had been on the verge of demanding it from him outright.

He had never been good at reading people, and so he did not even bother to try to gauge the man’s goal from those flat red eyes. He asked without hesitation.

“I will hear the terms of your trade.” he said, speaking quickly with the knowledge that the Lightship would land very soon. “Though, of course, if your goals contradict mine, I will be forced to refuse no matter how powerful your aid would be.”

Because he’d have killed Weiss without asking anything. A weak leader like that… in Kaleb’s eyes, those people were not allowed to exist, much less command anyone. This man seemed to know what he was doing, at least… and that is why he wouldn’t complain about the situation he put himself in. He had the opportunity to attack Kaleb, to try and defeat him… but he stood his ground. 

Weiss’ body was visibly stiff, but Kaleb said nothing about it. No one else would notice, eyes trained for this kind of stuff from since a such young age. Others would’ve knelt, but perhaps his pride made him refuse to?

It was something worthy of note, although it was not that important in their current situation. He would simply follow Weiss quietly and obey his commands without complaint. For now, he’d be his ally. 

He had nothing to lose, and nothing to gain.

But his curiosity was only growing, and that was sufficient to keep him tied to this world.

One step. Two steps. Closing the distance between them, he simply awaited for the king’s commands. For now… he’d lend him his strength.

The stranger…was truly coming closer.  Even as Weiss gave orders to his soldiers, who scrambled (some of them to their feet) to follow, many of them shooting back nervous glances at the figure who had just splattered their comrades’ blood upon the Olquinian stone without hardly a blink, he, too, watched that man out of the corner of his eye. This man was truly intending to follow them.

It was aggravating. What did this man want? What did he stand to gain from slaughtering Weiss’ men and then going on to follow them? As long as Weiss did not know the answers to these, there were no guarantees that this stranger would not interfere with their operations a second time, and even the powerful Meridian army could not afford to take another blow like that while in enemy territory. But it was also because of this that Weiss could not afford to mind the stranger now. The operation at hand – that was everything.

Even still….

“The target is at the top?” he confirmed. The tower by itself would take too long to climb, let alone the fact that the only way to its base consisted of a narrow road with the sea on either side. “Take a Lightship! There is no time to lose!”

The white belly of the flying ship soon swept over their heads, and as Weiss and his general stepped easily into it, he could not help but glance back at that figure.

To be honest, this wasn’t too far from the truth. The lives of his subject, people, worms that crossed his way… from such a young age, he was taught to believe they were all the same. Their deaths would bear little to no consequence, exterminating the weak and the ones who were in your way was something he was conditioned to do since… 

… he could not remember when he dared to think differently. 

He could not remember when he dared to think for himself at all. His voice came without an ounce of emotion, as if he was a machine programmed to respond to things in a set way.

- “…Quarrel? No, none. They were simply at an unfortunate place, you see. As soldiers, they threatened to eliminate me if I did not obey them. Unlucky enough to not chose to ignore me and go their merry way of conquering… 

… but for your nation’s pride, they chose to bring me down. This is simply the consequence of their actions. I bear no grudge against a stranger like you, on an even more foreign land.”

Although his words lacked any emotion, it almost seemed like he was mocking Weiss. Or perhaps challenging him, his authority… in some sort of way. 

- “With your numbers diminished, shall you step back or go forward? You can chose to ignore me or bring me along. I shall obediently follow you if you reward me with the necessary information I seek. Not a prisoner, but a guest. 

If not… you can just join your army as another decaying corpse, my friend. The choice is entirely yours.”

Just who was this man? No quarrel, he claimed.... If this man were a god, or aligned with them, then why would he hide it? But if he had nothing to do with this situation, then why would he be here?

Beneath Weiss' mantle, black claws flexed. At a better time, in a better place, Weiss might have at least considered fighting the man. But he did not know the scale of the enemy's strength, nor had he lost enough sense in this damned situation to think that if he won, it would be quick or unscathed. They were in the middle of an invasion, and as formidable a blow as this man had dealt to the ideal course of things, it remained that he was far from their first priority.

Almost as if in response, his general spoke. "Sir Weiss," she barked, "we've located the target -- in the tower!"

It was sad.

"But if it is humanity that chooses to place its faith in the gods, then far be it for us to interfere. Such a thing is not the sole determinant of a human’s worth."

"Nevertheless, there is…some truth to what you say. I wonder myself, if those that govern the worlds are right in their rule."

He tensed as the blade suddenly moved, though the man made no move to attack him again. The battle was over, it seemed, much to Alcor’s relief. Conversation suited him more than battle, after all.

"So you think that it is humans themselves that allow themselves to be restricted? It is true that if the gods did not exist, then Man’s potential would be unbridled…"

But a world without gods—without Polaris… He couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would be like. 

"…Fight them?"

Fight the administrator? His brow furrowed at the proposition. Such a thought had never crossed his mind, though such a thing would be impossible for him at any rate…

"This species called humanity is worth nothing in this world. That is because this world, too, is worth nothing. Nothing but a playground for the gods.... Yes...!" Before even Weiss himself knew it, he was pacing. "Without the gods, man's power would indeed be unbridled -- and what a sight it would be! Then, it would truly be worthy of being called man...and not the groveling, chained creature it has transformed into everywhere." Weiss had reached the other end of the hall, where, slowly, contemplatively, he picked up his mantle from the floor with his left hand. For a moment, the black fingers appeared as if they might struggle with such a nonviolent action, but it went without trouble. Before he might have placed the garment back on his shoulders, however, the next words he heard

"Is that your cowardice?" he asked in a hiss, turning with enough force that the cape in his hands billowed for a moment, then settled. "You have developed a will of your own, and yet you waste it...."

To be completely honest, nothing would’ve happened if his soldiers didn’t intend on bringing the people who refused to cooperate down. His visit there was mere chance, some kind unlucky fate… his blade crossed throats and quickly put those who opposed him down. He almost seemed otherworldly, like a God… or the devil himself. The blood dripping from his sword seemed to fail to bring the slightest concern to his face, knowing that humans were fragile and would die without much effort. 

No. With that, he’d surely get the attention of their leader… which, for now, was his purpose. 

- “…”

What he did not know is that Weiss was not too far away from his current location. Leaving one soldier alive for the sole purpose of reporting back to him was enough. The rest… were either dead or were out of his reach. The threatening aura that seemed to try and envelop his surroundings refused to leave, a clear invitation to whoever issued such an order when he was around.

And, in that tiny gap between buildings, a silhouette as black as Death itself.

"Earthen Spear!" he bellowed as he ran, and as he ran the ground rose up like a seething wave and punched through brick as if it were sand, and as the brick wall scattered he ran through the gap that was now several feet wide. The stone beneath his feet gave a push, and as fast as he could, he arrived at the scene.

For a moment, he was speechless. Meridian soldiers sprawled everywhere, bright blue armor darkening in pooling blood, the air dense with the taste of metal...and, in the center of that red, red ring, a long-haired man in black.

No.... In all likelihood, not a man.

Weiss quickly became aware of two things. The first was a small group of his remaining forces approaching from behind; he could hear their steps, and he held out his arm for them to stay back. The second was a pitiful metallic scrabbling at his feet -- the sole survivor, it seemed, who had fallen over in his attempt to get away. Whether he had been allowed to live, or whether this black-clothed figure had simply missed him.... Both seemed equally unlikely.

"S-Sir Weiss, sir!" the soldier gasped, struggling to his feet, looking alternatively at Weiss, then back to the figure with a cowering glance, then Weiss again. "He.... He...!"

Weiss did not need to be informed. He raised his sword, staring down its length at the stranger who had thrown an impossibly large and bloodied wrench into all his plans.

Religion was not so far-removed from culture, after all. 

"To be able to find one’s purpose in life… To be able to choose how one lives, and shape and change one’s own fate… That is a shining, beautiful thing."

"You have demonstrated it yourself, you who would disregard the laws that have been in place since before your kind’s existence."

He didn’t move, even as he felt cold steel at his brow, even as a droplet of blood slithered down his face, falling onto the ground.

"For humanity, or against it…? I have wondered that myself…"

"It is my duty as a sword to bring about an ordeal… And yet, I gave Man the tools to survive it…"

"But I have always questioned those ways. Is it right for humans to be tried and tested? Do the greater wills have any right in limiting human potential?"

Eyelids fell as he lowered his gaze, without moving his head. “Something like me should not have those kinds of thoughts…”

How ironic. He had such power at his disposal. He was “nearly god.” And yet, he was doomed to wander, lost and confused, not able to find a path for himself.

"It's deluded! And so is anyone who chooses to lean on gods like a crutch! Anyone who forgets that they are not an animal; that they can balance just fine on their own two legs, and even prosper, standing upright!" The tendrils on his wing oscillated fervently with the rising of his voice, and when at last it slowed and lowered, so did they. "People who forget this...have no worth in the world."

"Listen well: it is humanity who puts a god in the seat of power. It is humanity who allows that god to feed on their will, their dignity, their very lives, until the object of their idolatry swells and bloats upon the throne. It is humanity that, bowing and quailing before the behemoth they've created, forgets they hold the real power in their hands."

At last, Weiss flicked his blade up and away from the man's face, leaving a shallow splatter of drops across the forehead.

From the ragged breathing he had heard earlier, as well as the signs of strain that he had seen throughout the battle, Alcor could tell that the man was reaching his limits. Neither Alcor’s own injury nor the poison would be fatal to him. He would most likely still be able to overpower him if he absolutely needed to. Probably.

He didn’t move from his spot, keeping his eyes trained on the man’s blade. It was only when he spoke up that Alcor met his eyes. 

He found himself letting out a breath.

"I never claimed to be above humans."

Anything but. "Humans have the capability for growth, and change… Your species is brimming with possibilities, and has been since the dawn of time. You have the ability to make the impossible possible… The potential for true, personal freedom."

"Something like me, that cannot stray from laws that govern the worlds, that serves as nothing more than a tool of a greater will, would never compare." 

Perhaps he had let slip too much… His fondness for humanity had begun to show again, but now was hardly the time when one of his beloved humans was trying to kill him. 

"That's right. We're more than capable of deciding our own destinies. And yet! People insist on prostrating themselves before stale icons, letting themselves be toys beneath the feet of fate, when in reality, they are no more slaves and subjects than they allow themselves to think they are.... Pathetic, isn't it?"

Weiss finally stopped before the stranger, the length of his blade having raised to the point between his enemy's eyes. A single drop of the stranger's blood dropped to the marble floor, near the boundary of where carpet ended and cold white tiles began, a pinprick in total silence.

"I have no regard for the Laws brought forth by gods," he declared, once again speaking without acknowledging the question that had been posed to him. Neither of them, clearly, was feeling a great need to be forthcoming here. "Nor do I have regard for those who would support those Laws. If they adore the gods so much, they can join them -- in death."

It seemed that his enemy was moving, swiveling around to keep Alcor in his sight… So he could see him. That was problematic. Still, he was moving slowly, and that grotesque wing probably did much to slow the man’s movements… Perhaps the enemy would not be able to react to a sudden burst of speed—

He sensed movement. He moved to throw himself to the side, but the darkness suddenly vanished. His eyes betrayed him—blinded by the light, he hesitated for a fraction of a second—

"…!?"

It was enough. He felt the blade digging into his right upper arm. The man’s sword arm was powerful, inertia generated by the wing also strengthening the attack. Alcor was thrown to the side, only regaining control a few feet away—thankfully before he had collided with anything. He gripped his arm, more out of instinct than to stem the blood flow. Such a thing wouldn’t be able to kill him, after all.

…But that wasn’t to say that it wouldn’t cause him discomfort. He glanced at the gash, and the blood seeping into his sleeve. How strange. There was more pain than there should have been. 

"…Poison?"

Such a thing wouldn’t affect him as severely as it would a human, but nevertheless, he couldn’t risk making any mistakes here. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground beneath him which, miraculously, had not been ravaged by the man’s earlier spell. 

To think that he would have to exert himself to such extent simply to land a hit! But it was with satisfaction that he watched the opponent lower himself down, and then he let his eyes move even further down, to the fresh blood that now stretched bright scarlet fingers across his blade. From what the opponent murmured then, he knew that the poison had done its work this time.

A being in the shape of a man, that floated and used magic that was familiar and unfamiliar and could be poisoned and made to bleed.... Hah, if only he leaked answers as well as that red, red blood! But very well; if he could only take that blood then he would gladly seize it.

If what the opponent had revealed so far was about the extent of what he could do, then Weiss was confident he would not lose. But at the same time, therein laid the problem. Weiss had pulled out both his accursed wing and some of his most powerful moves thus far, just to try and hit the little gnat, while he had no idea what else was up those black-striped sleeves. Surely the opponent would have, by now.... Well, if the enemy was going to go all out, now seemed the likeliest time -- while poisoned and significantly injured to the point that he apparently no longer deemed flying the safest course of action.

So, perhaps Weiss should strike now....

With a brief shrieking noise from the blade, Weiss withdrew his sword with great force and began to walk towards his opponent.

"No better than man…" A rueful smile tugged at his lips, the words vaguely stirring up some unknown emotion within him. Perhaps there was some truth in that. 

No… If anything, humans were far above any god or demon.

Alcor tensed, seeing the black arm rise, prepared to dodge any blast of magic that would be sent careening his way, but it never came. Instead, darkness swallowed the room.

"…!"

The initial disorientation faded as quickly as it came, but the fact remained that he still couldn’t see. He could still sense the man’s presence—he hadn’t moved. But beyond that, Alcor couldn’t tell what he was doing.

He was faced with a dilemma: on one hand, he could use the darkness to conceal his escape—his position relative to the windows was clear in his mind, and shattering them would be an easy feat. But what if the darkness was limited only to him, and not the enemy? Flying into an oncoming attack would spell doom for him.

The alternative was to remain still, to wait and see what his opponent had in store for him, but that too was not without its risks. What to do…?

The man’s question paused his line of thought.

"The gods…?"

He allowed himself a small, humourless chuckle. “Humans may perceive him as such, true… That being said, I see no reason to answer you.”

"So you don't think he's a god...?" he muttered through gritted teeth, and it did not escape his notice that his voice had gone even softer. But that was the most he was able to glean from his enemy's words. "Ha! Have it your way. You'll answer me with your head!"

The man was moving again. Weiss had to turn to keep him in sight, slowly and methodically, muffling his steps as best he could on the carpet, though the glowing sigils always made it clear to him where his enemy was. (Had the shaking of his hand risen out of frustration, or strain?)

What was the opponent aiming for...? Was he just scoping out the darkness? But his movement, a semi-arc that appeared to revolve relative to Weiss, seemed to suggest that he knew where Weiss was.... However, he'd looked too shocked earlier for Weiss to imagine that the man could see in the dark, and besides, he was moving so cautiously. Was he just assuming that Weiss hadn't moved? Foolish.... Then again, the prince was dealing with a "man" who floated and used light magic that wasn't light magic and talked of gods and humans as if he wasn't any of them. Loathe as he was to admit it, Weiss had no idea what he was dealing with here. Who knew what this opponent was thinking....

Weiss had never bothered to suspend the darkness for so long before -- he'd never seen any reason to do anything other than go straight for the kill. But he knew he was reaching his limit. So, still hanging on, he crouched, and threw his weight powerfully forward --

But Alcor hardly had the upper hand. The third blast of Almighty magic had met its target, though the man seemed to recover quickly.

What was that thing protruding from his shoulder? A wing? On a human? More troubling still was the fact that his aura seemed to have changed—he practically radiated power now. At the same time, two different-coloured stones had risen from the floor, but their purpose was unknown to him.

Alcor’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t sensed anything peculiar about the man before, even as he had started attacking him, but now, with such a thing revealed… 

How much more was he hiding?

For the first time since their battle startled, Alcor was beginning to realize that he may have been wrong to assume that his opponent would be unable to overwhelm him. It wasn’t to say that he had underestimated him, no—humans could never be underestimated. Still, the likelihood of Alcor being driven into a corner had climbed, especially against that which was unknown to him.

"So even the humans here are but playthings to higher beings…" 

How saddening. But Alcor had little time to sympathize with the enemy. Just barely swerving out of the way, feeling the dark energy sear his arm, he circled about the man again, still in flight.

His best course of action… It was escape. The fight was becoming increasingly destructive, and Alcor had no idea just how far the man was willing to go to exact his albeit misaimed chagrin on him.

He glanced around the room quickly. The guards were approaching the doorway, though at the man’s command, dared not enter. If there was someone just as powerful as his opponent just waiting outside, Alcor would definitely be caught in a spot of trouble then. 

That left…one of the windows, perhaps? 

His adversary stood between him and the windows, and as he was now, Alcor was determined to keep as much distance between them as possible. But perhaps a little distraction would keep him at bay…

At the same moment, Weiss prepared his next course of attack. This opponent's flight abilities were proving extremely annoying.... Being that he was weighed down by a wing man was never meant to carry, inertia placed great power into his assaults, but dragged at his body when he needed it to swerve in time with an enemy that crossed the room in a breath. However, the stranger's next words interested him.

"That's right!" he shouted over the roar of flaring black energy. "So you know this, at least. But the gods are no 'higher beings.' They are no better than man!"

The spell that rushed at him next looked exactly like Wind Magic. In which case, Weiss would meet it with....

"Pillar of earth, trap them all!" he commanded -- behind him, the darker Raystone flashed -- and the floor exploded. In an instant, an enormous column of rock had burst forth from the ground, making jagged white teeth of the marble floor. He hardly gave it a glance -- there were enough workers in the capital such that it could be fixed before the day was over.

A moment later, the rock was struck by the opponent's magic in full force. The gales of wind that did not meet the rock head-on careened to the side and sliced a vase that he had never liked anyway -- it shrieked and smashed into silver porcelain on the floor. For a moment, it seemed that the earth shield would hold up, but the sheer force of the barrage proved too much, and it soon collapsed into small fists of dirt that bounced easily off of Weiss' wing, dispersing the wind attack along with it. A single flap blew away the dust in his face, and, standing over the wreckage of his Earth spell, the prince seized his chance.

Once again, the black arm rose up. This time, it did not move, and yet, everything around it seemed to, somehow --

Light vanished entirely from the room. From the hallway outside, Weiss heard the faint sound of the guards stopping in their tracks, and knew that all they saw within the frame of a doorway was an impossibly deep darkness. Indeed, all Weiss himself saw was the outline of the accursed hand in front of his face -- and, brighter, the outline of the glowing sigil that had appeared only to himself, encircling the enemy and highlighting that man's silhouette.

This would teach his opponent to zip around the room like a little fly. Under normal circumstances, Weiss would pour energy into the sigil so that it would immobilize his enemy, then immediately follow up with a powerful strike -- the Dragon's Charge. But instead, he wanted to stifle the light a little longer, so he could....

"Damned, or…divine, eh…"

The corners of Alcor’s mouth twitched upwards, a sardonic smile creeping onto his face. 

"I cannot be considered either."

He was “nearly god”, though that hardly made him divine. But now wasn’t the time for an existential crisis. At the man’s incantation, the room flashed a bright orange. Alcor looked up to see two giant fireballs hurtling towards him, and at the same moment, the man lunged in his direction.

"I see…"

He had two choices: take the hit, or risk running into the point of a blade. So the man was planning to trap him, eh?

Alcor didn’t move. He let the flames engulf him, but at the same time, launched himself upwards. The damage from the spell would be trivial to one who had a natural resistance to fire-based attacks, after all, and the column of fire would mask his ascent. 

When the flames subsided, the spot Alcor had previously been was vacant. Instead, the Septentrione was directly above Weiss now, oriented almost parallel to the ground. Magic flared up about his fingertips, and in a swift motion of his arm, he sent a barrage of light at his target.

Something was up.

Weiss threw himself to one side. The first blow barely grazed his shoulder, but he was too slow to dodge the next.

"Nnkghh!" The second blow struck like a small battering ram, just before he spotted his opponent, and he dug his feet into the carpet to avoid losing balance. It surprised him to realize that this did not feel like Light magic, but there was no time to contemplate that. Another was on the way.... Still gripping his blade, he drew his hand close to his chest and undid the clasps --

The third blow glanced off his body, immediately after his thick cloak was thrown backwards. It settled onto the floor behind him with a certain finality. This time, the light that had struck him cleared to reveal a massive, segmented wing; one that resembled a parasite more than it did a limb. Claw-like tendrils, waving back and forth in an eerie rhythm known only to themselves, protruded from what resembled a stiff black backbone lined with yellow spines...except that the entire wicked growth was extending out of Weiss' shoulder. It was hard to say whether the thin, abnormally long feathers made the image more tolerable, or even less.

The grotesque wing unfolded gradually to reveal the second horror -- that it had not replaced Weiss' real arm. Rather, that arm was a dark, scaly, monstrous thing -- enormous and golden-clawed, with spikes coming out of unnatural places and bony, wart-like bulges at the finger joints.

"Well?" he breathed, feeling newfound power now that he had unfurled the wing. It pounded through every artery and filled him up to the brim, like a liquid lightning. From the corner of his eye, he saw two crystals rise up from indents in the floor, one brown and one orange, to hover above the floor. So, the Raystones had recovered. "This is what gods have done to me."

But even as he spoke.... What was that noise from the adjacent hallway? A cacophonic clanking that drew closer by the moment.... Footsteps. So, perhaps the guards were actually good at something: hearing commotions. But they would only be a nuisance if they charged in now.

But Alcor was fast too. Reacting with superhuman speed, he sidestepped to avoid the brunt of the strike, quickly circling around the man so that he was a few paces behind him.

He hadn’t come out of the assault unscathed. He raised his left arm slightly, staring at a cut on his forearm. Shallow as it was, already, blood was seeping into the sleeve, staining it a darker red.

"That was quite impressive, human."

What a troublesome turn of events. He would have hoped to avoid any sort of conflict, but alas. His first instinct was to flee, but the fact that he was in an unfamiliar place caused him to hesitate. There was always the option of returning to the world he frequented, but that required some degree of focus—not something he had the luxury of having at the moment, with the man attacking him.

"I am uncertain as to what I did to cause your ire, but I do not intend to fight you. I told you, I am not your enemy." Though as he said this, his feet lifted off the ground ever so slightly so that he was levitating a few centimeters above the floor. The man was human, and did not command any demons, but it seemed he had other tricks up his sleeve. Alcor could not afford to make any missteps. 

"So, you do bleed." He allowed a smirk to cross his lips. But the wound was negligible, and the man who'd received it had barely even changed his expression. Weiss doubted that the poison on his blade would even have caught a foothold on such a shallow injury. The floating was interesting; he hadn't seen anything like it...but it was only floating. He would have to push a little harder, it seemed.

"Enough of the high-and-mighty talk!" he snarled abruptly, beginning to advance. "Well? What are you? Damned, or divine?" Weiss nearly spat the last word at his feet. "If you won't show me, I'll cut you open and see for myself."

"I command you to burn!" he intoned. At this, the room appeared brighter for a moment -- before -- two enormous spheres of orange fire came hurtling from above, and down at an angle towards the enemy, trailing thin strips of flame in their wake --

Alcor sighed. This was certainly a troublesome turn of events. It didn’t do, after all, to traverse the worlds only to make enemies.

And there was the question. Though it was likely that this world and the man were far removed from any ordeal that Polaris might send, Alcor was still remiss to tell anyone just exactly what he was.

It wasn’t something that he himself liked being reminded of, after all.

"I haven’t an answer for you." It wasn’t a lie—Septentriones did not ponder, or feel, or desire, and yet Alcor did all of those things. By definition, he could not be considered a Septentrione, could he? 

That answer was most likely not satisfactory. Though it was unlikely the man would be able to kill him, lest he had access to supernatural powers, it wouldn’t be very pleasant to be impaled on anyone’s sword. He had to choose his words wisely. 

However, it was true that the man did seem regretful about that vague reply... -- No, was Weiss about to be distracted here? "Not an enemy," he claimed....

"We'll see about that." Weiss crossed the room in an instant, the sword sliding from its sheath with the smooth hiss of metal. "We will spar, or worse. Defend yourself unless you want to die."

As he advanced, he muttered a brief incantation, allowing a flash of flames to rise around him, spiraling, then disappearing from sight -- leaving only a sizzling heat to seep into his muscles, electrifying them until they felt like hot iron, a coil waiting to spring. Yes...this was good. But more than that, it would be a warning to the "vagabond" that he was not an opponent to be taken lightly. This way, perhaps, Weiss would see the full force of this man's capabilities.