Garden Of The Abyss

Standing amidst the blinding haze of sand, Fedrin held his ground as the sound of frequent footsteps would manifest suddenly--then disappear just as quick. Popping up randomly from the ground below, either from in front of him, by his sides, or even behind him, the ghastly figure launched swift attacks, only touching the elf for a moment before retreating.

It was enough, however, even the quick, light attacks were enough for Kikomori's burning touch to damage the man right through his thick garments.

He's using this obscuring storm of sand to his advantage...I acted in haste; that was a mistake on my part. I have to get rid of it--but if I stop for a moment to cast a spell, he'll jump right at that opportunity, Fedrin thought.

Reaching under the tan pouch positioned on the jet-black, fabric belt wrapped around his waist, the elf with long locks of the sable variety retrieved a small, gray orb as he kept his guard raised for the impending attack of the sly, slippery foe.

Now, Fedrin thought calmly.

Without batting an eye, he stepped to the side just as Kikomori left the ground with both of his monstrous hands reaching towards the elf. Taking advantage of this moment of tangibility, Fedrin launched an open palm strike directly against the sternum of the passing, fiendish foe of his, knocking him back as he stomped his foot forward to cement the strength of his attack.

As Kikomori tumbled and rolled across the ground, beginning to sink into the plentiful holds of the sand once more, the elven competitor threw the minuscule sphere he held directly into the center of the blinding sand hanging in the air.

A magic stone!? Ren thought.

Taking on a blinding radiance for a moment, the sphere released its form as a violent torrent of wind filled the arena--cutting away at the stray sand occupying the air as Fedrin stood tall in the advent of the clear view returning to the battle.

"AS EXPECTED FROM A HIGH ELF, THEY LEAVE NO STONES LEFT UNTURNED!"

"...He really came prepared, didn't he?"

Watching as the battlefield was now clear of its detrimental element, Ren commented as he looked upon the tall standing elf, who looked completely unassuming amongst the hardened competitors.

"That's the kind of man Fedrin is; there are no half-measures taken in battle for him."

Speaking for the nature of his companion, Bakar remained as immovable as ever as his heart didn't seem to skip a beat at the unfolding battle.

As the arena was as clear as the sky on a summer day, Fedrin was fully prepared for the next assault of the intangible foe; listening for any alerting sounds.

Unexpectedly, Kikomori rose from the ground a distance away from the elvish mage as he soared high into the air with an extensive leap. Puffing his chest out as air was inhaled through his lipless maw, the air around Kikomori contorted; heat waves forming around the strange being.

"JUST WHAT IS KIKOMORI PLANNING? NOBODY CAN READ THE INHUMAN BANDIT!"

"Oh no...I just remembered something…"

Aiko watched in horror at the sight of the infamous bandit taking a strange stance amidst the air, with a chest puffed out, holding abundant air in his lungs.

"Yeah?"

Adjusting the collar of his expensive looking coat, Jae-Seong pressed the girl for what she knew as she looked at Kikomori further as if confirming what she was seeing.

"It's only rumors, but...the wanted posters described the leader of The Bane of The Breathing as possessing a steam affinity."

"Steam…?"

Ren repeated that word that stuck out to him, looking at the short, noble-born girl as she nodded her head.

I've never heard of that type of affinity before...crap, this world and all of its subsets! Wait, no--I remember seeing steam magic before! It was...Adelaide…Ren thought.

Remembering the memories of the time he was first brought to this world, remembering that golden-haired, fair-faced girl who betrayed him--his breath left his lungs for a moment as sweat escaped his pores.

"Ren?"

"I'm alright…"

Giving a hesitant smile to Aiko as the girl looked up at him with her worried jewels, her expression didn't seem to buy it, but they both returned their eyes to the battle.

"Steam, huh…? A mixture of fire and water, if I remember correctly...sounds dangerous."

"It can be."

That was all Jae-Seong said as he seemed moderately interested in the battle, flicking his glasses up as at last, it seemed the long, drawn in breath from Kikomori reached its maximum.

Releasing the breath that contorted the surrounding space with heat waves, Kikomori parted his jaws wide like a snake as steam propelled itself from his bowels in abundance--quickly filling the arena with the heated, obscuring fog.

"This again, eh? I guess you're pretty adept at fighting like a coward."

Fedrin whispered as his voice was muffled by covering part of his face with his arm as the steam pelted against his body, dragging his sweat straight out of his pores in plentiness.

It was only for a brief moment in a small window of sight awarded to him, but he watched Kikomori drop back down onto the ground--without a sound following.

He's coming, Fedrin thought.

As he held his staff tightly between his fingers, he felt his grip begin to weaken ever so slightly as his next drawn breath came in rugged, causing his throat to itch and begin to swell.

I see, of course this isn't normal steam; a foul being like you wouldn't use something so modest, he thought.

Beginning to cough as the swelling of his throat compromised his breathing, Fedrin's momentary distraction left him open to a quick strike from Kikomori, who swiftly protruded from the ground like a fish jumping from a lake, running his hand across the man's chest as he burned through his cloak and skin with ease--sinking right back into the floor.

Falling to a knee, the elf continued coughing as his various, steaming wounds continued to sizzle, dripping heated blood that hissed as it met with the sand below.

"THINGS ARE LOOKING DIRE FOR FEDRIN! KIKOMORI'S STEAM MAGIC MIGHT JUST BE TOO MUCH TO HANDLE!"

"No, come on, long ears…!"

Even through the heavy mist, it was clear to Ren by watching the silhouette of the elvish man that he was compromised by the steam.

Still, Bakar remained stoic--watching with eyes that didn't flinch at this development.

How can he be so relaxed when his partner is in danger like this…? Ren thought.

"...I wonder what a person like you wishes from Purgatory, Kikomori…"

Speaking with words that came with a cough, his quietly spoken words surely had no way of meeting the ears of the mysterious bandit, but he felt sure they would find him.

I didn't come here with a wish--not one I couldn't grant myself. It was thirty years ago now...thirty years ago when you left my side, Bellise, Fedrin thought.

"If you'd like to know why I have doubts about the triumph of that man--what I can give you is a simple answer."

"Huh?"

Looking at Bakar as his words were few and far between, Ren looked at the wrinkled, old man for his answer.

"Fedrin is not known as "The Unbreakable" because he possesses a body of stone or steel, or power which leaves him out of reach of other's malice. He is unbreakable as he has traversed this realm for three decades without giving in--not once has he faltered, not once has the thought crossed his mind to succumb to Purgatory. Simply put: Fedrin possesses a resolve that burns brighter than any other, even when reduced to nothing more than embers--he reignites it."

It was only with those words spoken from the old wisdom natural to the elderly competitor that those spectating felt a rise from the elf.

Raising his gaze, a spiral of unending, blazing will encircled his amethyst eyes, standing himself up despite the lethal nature of the unique fog; his throat felt as if it was being squeezed tight by an iron grip, allowing only faint, infrequent breaths in. The melted portions of his skin continued to be attacked by the heated steam, his eyes becoming bloodshot from the dense fog, his eyelids swelling--but his strength didn't dissipate.

I figured it out...after taking enough of your attacks, I figured you out, Kikomori...Fedrin thought.

Huffing as he stood there with legs that wanted to collapse, he waited for the next approach of his enemy.

"LIKE AN UNDEAD BEING RAISED FROM THE SOIL, FEDRIN TAKES ONE LAST STAND! CAN HE FINISH IT HERE AND NOW, OR WILL KIKOMORI CLENCH THIS VICTORY OUT WITHOUT A SCRATCH ON HIM?"

Asmodeus' booming voice wasn't enough to squeeze so much as a peep from the audience as the tense moment inadvertently caused everyone to hold their breath in anticipation of the next clash.

"He should concede...I mean...just look at the state of his body…"

Wanting to avert her eyes from the battle as she placed her hand over her mouth, Iris' words came out worrifully.

Allowing his staff to drop to the ground below as his fingers made the decision for him, Fedrin continued to huff as he eyelids became heavier, blinking as he listened for any signs of his foe.

...If I'm to be honest, most of my time here has not been spent in search of the keys. There is someone I've been looking for.

My wife...frankly put, was a warrior on a level far above my own. I was just a simple scholar, reading and writing day-to-day. Though she was a fearsome girl, the one thing she wanted most was a family.

So, when we were finally so close to that dream...and our child was lost to an untimely season of frost that swept through our region--she couldn't bear it. She was always so level-headed, but one day, all I woke up to was a letter by the bed saying that she had gone off to Purgatory to save our daughter.

I wasn't much of a fighter myself, frankly...I wanted to chase after her right away, but I couldn't so much as hold a blade between my frail fingers. So I trained and I trained, until after a few months--I finally worked up the courage to seek her.

That's where I find myself now. I am a wanderer. A seeker. I will save both my wife and my daughter--no matter the cost.

That's why....I can't fall here, Fedrin thought.