Beliefs

[Zerrif]

Author's Note: Okay, so I didn't get to writing. I blame going to my friend's house, and him having Odin Sphere, and litres upon litres of Arizona Green Tea. *_*

---

"Heal!" Gerik chanted, placing his hands softly upon D's neck. The Blacksmith was encased by the translucent green light, mumbling and groaning as he started to regain consciousness. The Acolyte looked up worriedly, only being able to hear sounds of battle in the trees.

"Gerik..." The blacksmith mumbled, trying to sit up. Despite the Acolyte trying to keep him down, he eventually won, having the other help him sit up against a tree. "Bascht... is--"

"With Muarim." Gerik said, assuringly. "She hit you pretty hard. You might have a concussion... how's your head feel?" He prodded softly at the crook of D's neck, where she'd delivered a furious Flying Side Kick. He was rewarded with winces and growls, the Blacksmith twitching slightly.

"Bascht... he went..." D mumbled, shaking his head. "You have to go help them. You... he can't..." Gerik just nodded, and stood up, adjusting his robe.

"Heal!" He chanted again, giving D another healing treatment, before he turned back to the trees. "It's alright. I understand." He added, before he closed his eyes and began to focus, before he started to run towards the sounds that he heard within.

---

"Flying Side Kick!" Muarim heard, standing in a defensive stance. He turned constantly, thinking he heard branches snap behind him. "No, that's a distract--" He thought to himself, before he whirled around on his heel, bringing his axe up, blocking flatly.

A crisp ring of a plated heel rang true against the flat blade of his axe, sending Muarim skidding back along the ground at the sheer force. This floating... woman was no joke. He brought his axe down to see she was already gone, gritting his teeth.

"Come on Bascht..." He grumbled mentally, hearing a rustle of leaves to his side. Rolling forward, he felt a whiz of air as she flew right above him, having struck right where his head had been. "You were supposed to have your spell ready ages--" He stared at the ground where he was standing, a large grin growing on his face.

"Whirlwind Kick!" Came the woman's cry again, and Muarim just braced himself for impact. He wasn't trying to dodge at all, bringing up his axe. Low, high, mid-- three successive blocks all happened before his eyes, before his hand flashed out, and clasped around her ankle. "Wh-what? H-how--"

"You always attack the exact same way. It's pathetic. You call yourself a Star Gladiator? I don't know how you got that prestige." Muarim said, raising his axe above her captured leg. Her eyes widened in fear, before the axe came crashing down. There was a loud crack as he brought the handle down right on her knee, making her cry out in pain.

He wasn't done there, though. Even if she was a female, there was no mercy in a fight for your life. He heaved her up, easily strong after having to lug around carts that weighed hundreds of pounds, before he slammed her down flatly on her back on the ground, winding her. She coughed to the side, not wanting to choke on anything, before she realized the point of all this.

A grey circle, emblazoned with magical symbols and markings was on the ground, and suddenly her legs were let go, the Merchant hopping back. She couldn't get up fast enough, looking up to see ominous black clouds right over her position.

"Thunder Storm!" Bascht called out, as a barrage of lightning bolts rained down upon the circle, the Star Gladiator's cries resounding through each crack and sizzle. The resultant force kicked up a cloud of dust, which whipped around the Mage's robes furiously.

"A...ahaha....HAHAHA!" Came her trilling, high pitched laugh, as the dust began to settle. She grunted, getting up onto both her feet, smoke rising off her body. "Is this the best you can do? I haven't come this far with practiced katas and known moves-- I EARNED MY RIGHT TO BE WHO I AM!"

"You pissed her off." Bascht said to the Merchant who just snickered. A smile crossed the Mage's pale features, his emerald green eyes twinkling with a sort of mischief that borderlined sheer evil. "Good. Go find Gerik, I've got this."

"Alr-- wait, what?" Muarim asked, staring at the Mage. "Listen, I don't know much about you but I don't know if you can handle--" The mage opened a palm at the Merchant, to shut him up. "Bascht..."

"No, she's going to learn that she'll forever regret with messing with me." He said, adjusting his glove. Muarim noticed something within the glove, a faint greenish-yellow outline in the shape of a rectangle, glowing. He smirked and nodded.

"I'm not lugging your corpse back to your boy, alright?" Muarim said. Bascht looked over his shoulder, a soft gaze on his features. "Yeah. That's right. Remember, you got someone to go back to. You can't be giving up on everything now. Gerik's there, doing his job."

"... You're still not finding him." Bascht said, that smile crossing his face yet again. Muarim nodded, and darted off into the foliage, leaving Bascht to turn back to stare at the recuperating Star Gladiator. "Now... how's about we get serious, huh?"

---

"Bascht's Mask..." Gerik mumbled, bending down to pick up the hard, plastic shell that the Mage had stripped himself of minutes earlier. He placed it inside his robes, as someone jumped out of the trees at him. Within an instant, he drew his mace and shield and was about to strike; scaring Muarim onto his back on the ground. "Muar! You can't be scaring me like that!"

"How is he?" Muarim quickly asked. Gerik blinked, before smiling and nodding. "Good. Come on. We've gotta get him over to Bascht." The Merchant got to his feet, spying the Blacksmith against a tree not too far off.

"Get him to--?" Gerik asked, before things replayed in his mind. When D went down, Bascht sort of... broke. He snapped. He understood what Muarim wanted now. Seeing that D was okay would probably calm him down some, and sort out some of the thoughts in his mind.

"Let's--" Muarim started, before a growling was heard all around them. He got to his feet quickly, and stood beside Gerik, as the Roween suddenly stepped out of the dense underbrush. "... Think they're finally deciding they want to fight, now?"

---

Bascht coughed, feeling the coppery taste of blood fill his mouth, and drip down the side. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, streaking crimson across his gentle blue robes, his chest burning with sheer pain. The Star Gladiator grinned as she surged forward, not letting up.

The knee that she'd just delivered to his chest struck like a hammer, and he knew that with her this close, anything he knew wouldn't help him this close. He could bring up his shield, but that would hinder his eyesight-- and she was so quick and nimble, either on the ground or in the air, that he needed to see every movement.

His right hand came up, his staff quickly hooking the incoming foot and barely guiding it away from his body. A fist soon came at his face and he heard the sickening crunch of his nose caving in, pain flaring in his face, sending him doubling over.

"You're a fool. Go back hiding behind your little shields where you belong-- but oh right, I can take those out too. Now how useless do you feel?" She asked, laughing as she stood over him. She brought a heel up to crush the Mage's sorry skull, but her foot hit solid ground, and not the delightful squish of flesh.

Bascht rolled around on the ground, despite the pain in his face. He got to his hands and knees, taking a swift kick to the ribs. He grunted, and mumbled very quickly under his breath, before he got up on his knees and fired a Fireball right at the Gladiator, if only to make some breathing room.

He coughed out more blood, getting to his feet, shakily standing. "You're the fool..." He grumbled, as he stood up straight, his body screaming at him internally at the effort. He dropped his shield and simply tightened his grip on his staff. "You're the deluded one. The only place I belong is here... in the fray. You're not going to strip me of that. You're not going to strip me of anything!" He clenched his free hand into a fist, and pointed it at the female. "This is where I want to be. And this is where I want to stay."