Elsinor Tarqqantes

"I'm telling you, Vistorice: if you don't think you can handle having to kill someone, you're going to have a hard time with the Trials. I heard that in the last ones, even the person who survived was on the brink of death when they collected her."

Evora, daughter of Antimony. Origins from Lirima. Female. Twenty-four. A phytomancer. Rarely seen without her hood. A pacifist, though she's too practical to ever follow those ideals. Clear, level-headed, and oh so boring. A great witch in her own right, of course - she'd have to be, in order to get this far - but completely lacking any kind of stylistic appeal. Perfectly polished, but with no shape of her own. A threat, if she could learn some individuality.

"And I'm telling you, Evora, that I'll find a way. Sometimes, one just needs to think outside the box.

Vistorice Morale. Origins from Craorag. Male. Seventeen. Looks so pale it's hard to believe the two of us could come from the same land, and yet somehow it's true. Wishy-washy, a pushover, but with a strong sense of what is right - too strong, arguably. Unlike Evora, he has a clear shape of his own. Unfortunately for him, however, he is a tree grown in all the wrong directions, leaving him to be effectively useless. Not a threat whatsoever, unless he learns to do what he must.

I jump down from the roof of the cabins, landing soundlessly on the main floor with the two who are currently busy chatting. They look up, confuse, but I just shake them off as I rise from the shadows. "No need to look so surprised; we're all mages here, after all."

Elsinor Tarqqantes. Origins from Craorag. Unknown gender. Twenty-two. Been known to make people run away simply by looking at them, and far too fond of the shadows to be trustworthy. Overly fond of grandiosity, and considerably morbid, but with one hell of a knack for reading others. Shaped in the same way that a rose grows through a fence; with a few bends and knots somehow adding to its beauty. Possibly the greatest threat on this boat.

Me.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" asks Evora, her eyes wide open. She looks less frightened than disturbed, and I can tell already that she isn't one to make an entrance. Presumably she arrives to a room much in the same way that she stands in one: without a single eye on her, only ever acknowledged when she's speaking - and sometimes, not even then. She must tire of her invisibility, though it doesn't show. I can see Vistorice shake his head at her, trying to discourage her from speaking. "I don't recall seeing you at the attendance ceremony earlier on today.

"The greatest of presences are felt, not seen," I say. My voice is dark, neither low nor high, and she blinks as she acknowledges my words. "As for who I am - I believe that's for you to find out in due time. But now is not that time."

She looks at Vistorice. "Elsinor Tarqqantes," he explains. "She's from home - sort of. More in the south. Most people around here know of her."

"Of them, darling. Gender is such a restricting term for those who so often live in true unity with the world around them."

I can see now that a few curious eyes are gathering nearby, each one eager to keep tabs on the exchange occurring before them. One or two people I recognize as potential threats, though most of them seem to be part of the endless flow of irrelevant people on this boat. still, it's always a good time to give a good show - to get into the head of your enemy before you come face to face with them is always a good idea.

"Are they always this obsessed with spectacle?" asks Evora. "Surely, people get tired of it after a while."

"How could they?" replies Vistorice. "It's absolutely fascinating to watch; apparently most people are already expecting them to come out victorious."

A small feeling of respect grows in my stomach when I realize that Evora, unlike most people here, seems neither enthralled nor frightened by me. Perhaps I was wrong, and perhaps the inside of her head is stronger than I'd expected it to be; even I can't magically sort through it, trying to figure out everything about its inner workings. I note this down - it will probably come in handy, later on - but quickly spot one more pair of eyes observing the exchange which makes it all much more worthwhile. None other than Elswyth, daughter of Idessa stands in the distance, an amused kind of look decorating her face.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some preparing to do; there'll be time for socializing later on."

And with that I vanish in a cloud of darkness, watching their eyes go wide as I disappear right before them. After all, Elsinor Tarqqantes knows how to make an exit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gajeel Ressaog

Gajeel was fairly certain he was seeing double. Everything, even the lovely tavern wench who was serving him ale, was in twos.

Including the annoyingly aggressive man sitting next to him. The man had black hair, a stocky build, and almond-shaped grey eyes-the looks of someone from Aavayoh. The man spent his time insulting the wench. Gajeel was getting tired of hearing the fool's voice.

"Look, can you shut your trap, already? I'm getting tired of your voice ruining my quiet time." Gajeel didn't bother looking at the man as he spoke; instead he downed another drink of ale.

"What did you say to me, fool?"

"Did I stutter?" Gajeel asked, glancing inside his empty cup. He held it out to the wench, who scurried off to refill it.

"Where are you even from? You don't really seem to fit in anywhere, do you?"

Gajeel didn't bother responding.

"Oh, he's from here," an annoyingly familiar voice chimed. It was Elysia Brisa, a woman he'd run into far too many times for his taste.

The Aavayoh man laughed. "Is that so? Aren't you missing something? Red hair, perhaps?"

Gajeel clenched his jaw, but refused to turn his head and look at the man, or Elysia.

"That explains it. You're a shame to your nation-an outcast."

The term no longer bothered him. He had been an outcast for so long that it no longer brought feelings of weakness or insecurity. Instead, it strengthened him, gave him a purpose. He wore the insult around him like armor, allowing nothing to penetrate it.

"I wonder... What did you do to receive such a mark of shame? Huh?"

The wench returned, handing Gajeel his drink. He downed it all, and calmly set the cup on the counter in front of him.

"No one around here really knows," Elysia stated. "My guess is that he pissed off the wrong person."

"No, this one... He's always been lowborn, haven't you?" The Aavayoh man stepped closer to Gajeel as he spoke. The room around Gajeel was spinning in circles, making him grin.

At last, he did what he wanted to do since first hearing that annoying fool's voice: he brought his elbow forward, and then slammed it across the man's face. The man stumbled back, wiping blood off his nose.

Gajeel grinned and cracked his knuckles. "Finally. A good brawl."

Elysia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Seriously, Gajeel? This is what, the fifth time?"

Gajeel stood still, allowing the man to dart toward him and tackle him. He slammed Gajeel across a table, cracking it down the middle, making Gajeel laugh.

"You're laughing?" the man questioned.

"He's a strange one," Elysia pointed out.

The man shrugged, and jumped on Gajeel. "No matter. I'll wipe that grin right off your face." He punched Gajeel in the jaw several times, making him blink several times. Stars danced at the edge of Gajeel's already dizzy vision, but he let the man get a few more good hits in.

At last, the man paused when Gajeel went completely limp. "Guess this fool isn't as tough as he looks." The man laughed, and started to stand up.

"My turn," Gajeel said. He twisted his legs around the man, flipping him over onto his back. He gasped as air whooshed out of his chest. Gajeel brought his knee up and slammed it to the left side of the man's temple. The man reeled back, giving Gajeel time to punch him in the eye.

Finally, the man shoved Gajeel off of him and stood to his shaky feet. Gajeel cracked his neck. "Let's see what you have, little man. Make this a good one."

The man practically snarled at him, right before he grabbed a chair and charged at Gajeel.

Gajeel twisted to the right and stepped backward, out of range of the chair just as the man swung it toward him again. Gajeel ducked, and slid his feet across the man's, trying to trip him up.

The man jumped in the air, avoiding it.

Gajeel pursed his lips. "Not bad..."

The man swung the chair at Gajeel again. This time, Gajeel caught it by one of the legs and pressed it against the man's chest. They both grunted, both trying to gain control of it.

This is probably a bad idea, Gajeel thought to himself. "No matter," he muttered out loud. He slammed his head against the man's. The man dropped the chair and reeled back, as Gajeel did the same. His head pounded furiously against his skull, thumping in time with his heart. His vision blackened before quickly returning. "That... wasn't my best idea," Gajeel murmured. He shook his head to try to clear it.

The man growled and closed his eyes.

"Hmm. Magic? About time," Gajeel said, raising his hands.

"Mathias al Thea and Gajeel Ressaog!" a stern voice screamed.

The man, Mathias, shot his eyes open at the same moment that Gajeel lowered his hands. Gajeel didn't know much about her, other than she was the Guardian of the nation of Lirima. Most of the rumors he had heard mentioned her as bubbly and polite, downright fun even.

Looking at her now, Gajeel suspected the rumors were just that-rumors. The woman was beautiful-pale skin and long brown hair, which was intertwined down her back in an intricate braid. Her mouth was set in a thin, firm line, and her eyes held all the fury of the devil in them.

"Both of you follow me to the ship, now," she demanded. "Elysia Brissa, you too young lady."

Without another glance or word, both males and Elyisa, followed behind the Guardian quickly.

"Ah, but first..." Elswyth started, walking toward Gajeel. There were too many of her for him to count, and he swayed.

The next thing he knew, he couldn't breathe. His lungs burned, desperate for air. He gasped, finally able to suck air into his lungs. He blinked several times, orientating himself.

He was staring into his own reflection. Narrow-shaped, silver eyes stared back at him, but his eyes shifted to the one trait that had once brought him insecurity: his hair. It was long, tied back at the nape of his neck, and was black in color, instead of red, which was honorable in his country.

He tore his gaze away from the water barrel, and now looked at Elswyth. She started to dunk him into the barrel again.

"I'm sober now," he stated before she could.

She smiled warmly and nodded once. "Good." With that, she turned and started to walk away.

Gajeel's long strides easily caught up with her. "The ship's leaving already?"

Elswyth nodded. "Yes. You three were missing, which was why I came to fetch you personally."

They were outside the small tavern. They were in a small port city in southern Craorag. It was bustling with movement. Everywhere people scurried to-and-fro. Gajeel strolled beside Elswyth at a respectable distance. As they continued, the streets soon became too crowded to stay as far apart as he preferred. The streets were crowded-much too crowded for his liking. People constantly bumped into him, paying no mind for personal space. He felt like he was in a rushing river, trying to walk against the current. Everyone was too close to him.

He was used to the open-space-isolated and away from others, not cramped in a place where people stood at every inch around you.

The smell of cooking food wafted to his nose from one of the many market stands that they passed. Other smells, such as sewer waste and body odor reached his nostrils as well, making him frown. The buildings were all made of sand-stone. They were in the more "privileged" part of the city-heading to the port across the way. The stones here were perfectly arranged, and many of the houses were larger than two stories tall. As they continued, they passed through several areas considered to be more "underprivileged." They even passed a man wearing rags sitting against a building. His eyes were glassed over as he reached a hand out to no one in particular.

Gajeel turned his face away. He could tell that Elswyth didn't particularly care for him. He suspected it was because she was serious about her job-about what she did, but then again he had only heard rumors. He was too flamboyant and reckless.

At least, that's what he'd heard before. He knew that he had been selected simply because he was "expendable." Having no one had its perks, but it also meant that no one cared about you.

If you had no one, then no one would mourn you.

The Guardians also knew that he wouldn't be afraid to kill the other mages if and when he had to.

Elswyth chattered along the way. It was Elsyia that answered her most of the time, making Gajeel realize that she and Matthias were also with them. He tuned out most of their conversation, not really interested in what they were saying.

It wasn't until someone else started to speak to him, that he realized he had drifted to the back of the group. "I heard most of the fight in there. It's true you were shamed?"

Gajeel glared at the woman who had spoken. She was young-probably in her early twenties. Judging from her pale skin and golden hair, Gajeel guessed she was from Lirima. "None of your business, Moss Eyes."

The woman frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's the best you can come up with?"

Gajeel smirked at her, crossing his arms as they walked. "Unless you'd rather me call you blondie?"

She gagged and shook her head. "My name is Roux, daughter of Calema."

"Okay, Moss Eyes, daughter of Calema."

She punched him in the chest.

He rubbed the spot where she punched him, but only chuckled. "You pack quite a punch."

"I know."

"And you're arrogant. I think I could grow to like you, Moss Eyes," Gajeel said.

"Your name is Gajeel, right?"

Gajeel nodded, but said nothing more.

"You're an outcast like me."

Gajeel wasn't sure what he thought of the statement. It was a fact; he was an outcast. He thought it was odd that someone would openly admit that, however. "Why would you just admit that out of nowhere?"

Roux shrugged. "I can be a bit blunt sometimes. I don't see the need to beat around the bush."

"Yeah, I could definitely get used to you, Moss Eyes."

They stayed to the back of the group, which grew larger the more streets they walked down. At last, they reached the outskirts of the poor district, and walked onto the port.

The dock underneath their feet swayed from the water below it. Elswyth led them up the ramp and onto the ship.

Gajeel cursed.

"What?" Roux asked.

"Nothing," he muttered, following after her. It wasn't long before the ship set sail, and Elswyth explained that they were heading to an island-a two day voyage. The mast and sails snapped and fluttered in the wind. The captain yelled orders to the men all bustling about, climbing and darting around, doing their work to sail the ship. The sweet smell of salt water slammed into Gajeel's nose, and it was the only relief from the body odor around him. Water lapped quietly against the belly of the ship continuously. The ship rocked and rolled underneath him, making his stomach churn.

His already pounding head and dizziness from the hangover didn't need anything extra added to it. But the rocking continued, making his knees buckle. He swallowed back bile.

"You look like you have never been on a ship before," Roux stated.

Gajeel shook his head. "I have, just-" He cut off, as his mouth started to salvate.

He darted toward the railing of the ship and threw up all the contents in his stomach. Seasickness, he finished in his thoughts.

This was going to be a long trip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aria Gracen

Aria was really starting to regret that she had volunteered for this trip.

Technically, she reminded herself, you didn't volunteer. You were chosen. She remembered her parent's joyous faces, saw the tears of happiness in her Mother's eyes. She recalled how everyone in her town had praised her-even those who never spoke a word to her before. Aria knew that to be chosen was a privilege, an honor, and yet she wished with all her heart that she could be back at home, singing with the birds and composing songs on her precious guitar. Antonia, she had named it. Her parents had shaken their heads, but after all, Aria had reasoned--if a sword or ship needed a name, why not an instrument?

Antonia had not been permitted to come with Aria on her journey, and the girl yearned the touch of the guitar's slender strings, of the musical melody that calmed her heart and rested her mind. Before she had left, Aria had polished Antonia's wood until it had shone, and dusted the slender wooden case Antonia rested in. She remembered talking to it-to her-that when Aria would come home they would sing their songs together and everything would be like it used to be. Again, Aria's parents had shaken their heads. And again, Aria did not care. Antonia was Aria's best friend. The guitar's tunes and provided shelter and a sense of belonging to the nineteen-year-old zoomancer, a sense of belonging that she had never felt with her own kind-humans. All her life, as far as Aria could remember, she had been the black sheep. The odd one out. No matter how hard she tried, no one accepted her. Perhaps it was just the way she acted. Squirrelly, someone called it. Always jumping around, looking like a frightened deer. Not normal, they said, we've seen this type of thing before. It's a shame really, but it can't be helped.

They almost sent her to the Mad House, for they said she would turn insane, but her parents stopped them-one act that Aria would forever be grateful for. And now, she was here-miles from home and with strangers for company. Since the Craorag recruits had been gathered, no one had spoken a word with Aria. They treated her like she was invisible, and she might as well have been. She kept her head down, trailed behind the group, and spoke to no one. All the while Aria longed for the familiarity of home, of Antonia, of her Mother's pastry cooking.

"We're almost to the docks!" Guardian Elswyth announced, startling Aria out of her thoughts. Pushing away a stray lock of ginger hair, the girl looked up to see that Guardian Elswyth had stopped in a gate that led through the city square-a marketplace filled with traders of different positions, rich and poor. A crowd of curious street children gathered around the group of magi, eyes wide and curious. A guard shooed them away, and bowed before Guardian Elswyth, muttering something under his breath. Elswyth smiled her legendary smile, and bid the guard to stand, which he did. Turning to the group of magi before her, Guardian Elswyth beckoned them forward, "Come, just through the square!"

Murmurs punctured the summer air as the crowd of selected magi surged forward like a wave through the gates, nearly unbalancing Aria and sending her toppling to the ground. Like a shell in the in the sea she moved along with them, her toes getting stepped on occasionally by someone else. Biting her lower lip, Aria moved to the left side of the horde of enthusiastic magi who seemed to be having the time of their lives. Trying to avoid another shoving incident, Aria ducked behind a crate and watched as the gathering of magi surged by her, no one noticing the little redhead from Craorag hidden behind a fruit basket. Seeing the last of them turn a corner towards the docks, Aria breathed a sigh of relief, bent down and rubbed her throbbing feet. I'll watch up with them later, I know where the docks are, she reassured herself and stepped out onto the street.

"Lady!" a foreign voice called. Aria whirled around, only to see a merchant of a nearby stall beckoning to her. Hesitant, she stepped forward and the man grinned a grin that resembled a sly fox's. "Lady like birds, no?" he asked, his words heavily accented with a dialect Aria could not place. Startled, Aria bobbed her head up and down without thinking, and the man's grin stretched even wider across his face, "I have birds. Lady want bird?"

"Ah, n-no, th-thank you," Aria stammered, suddenly wishing that she was back with Guardian Elswyth. Birds were her favorite animal. When Aria was a girl, she'd dreamt that she would be a bird, and fly far, far away. Far away from her own land where no one understood her and into the sky with the sun and the wind and the clouds. Aria couldn't stand to see one in a cage, locked up with their wings clipped. "I...I don't have any money, a-a-anyways."

The man did not seem frazzled by her sudden stammer. Instead, he turned around and headed back inside his stall while making frantic gestures at Aria for her to wait. Queasy, she did, torn between the curtesy of staying and the notion of escaping back to Elswyth. Too late, the man reappeared a few seconds later, carrying a metal cage carrying a single, beautiful white dove.

"She is pretty, no?" the man boosted with a touch of pride in his voice, "A pretty bird for a pretty lady. Only three silver coins for the bird! A good deal."

"Three silver-" Aria was interrupted when the dove made a soft cooing sound, and all at once Aria's heart was touched once again. Oh, how she longed to set the darling bird free, watch it soar into the pale blue sky. She didn't want the animal as a pet for her-all animals should belong free, that was her saying. Swallowing, Aria glanced at the dove staring up at her with wide brown eyes, and then to the paths that led to the docks. I shouldn't have stayed here.

Taking a deep breath, Aria looked the merchant in the eye, "I'm sorry, but I can't buy your bird. I don't have money, and, I-I must go. Thank you." Diverting her gaze, Aria quickly advanced down the marketplace's path, ignoring the merchant's cry of protests. Biting her lip in anxiety, she quickened her pace and muttered half-hearted 'excuse me's and 'pardon's when she bumped into people. She emerged out from the city square to the docks in a few minutes, and scanned the ships in the port for Elswyth or any of her fellow magi. Her heart seemed to stop as her eyes found no one. Surely they couldn't have left me!

But then Aria glimpsed a flash of braided brunette hair, with flowers woven in. Guardian Elswyth! The panic of being left behind setting in, Aria started running towards Elswyth, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps and her arms pumping at her side. The nearer she got, the more of the group she could see-but she also saw that they were boarding, and so she hurried on, nearly knocking an old fisherman into the bay on accident. Finally, Aria screeched to a stop beside Elswyth, and the Guardian spun around in surprise, letting out a startled, "Aria!"

"I'm terribly sorry, G-g-guardian Elswyth," Aria stammered, struggling to get her breath back. Her legs were already throbbing, "I...I got lost." Her insides seemed to twist themselves into tight little knots at Aria's lie. The dove's brown eyes popped into her mind. I should've set you free, little dove. You deserve to be free.

"My dear child," Guardian Elswyth exclaimed, and before Aria knew it she had been engulfed in one of Elswyth's legendary hugs, "Of course it is alright. Now, go!" Elswyth pointed to the ship and the rest of the magi being escorted onboard by stewards and squires, "Our journey is long, and you must rest, sweet Aria."

Aria dipped her head in what she hoped was a polite manner back in Lirima, and uttered a breathy, "Thank you," before stepping onboard the ship via plank. The Captain gave her a polite nod which she returned. Aria glanced around the room, looking like a lost puppy as she wondered where to go. There were three passageways from where she was standing, and she had no idea where her room was. The memory of the dove in the cage still haunted her, distracted her. Please go away, she begged inwardly at the vision of the white dove as she wandered down the hallways, following another magus from her country who was called Callus. I tried to save you. Stop looking at me!

The dove only continued staring, appearing wherever Aria looked, it's brown eyes wide and afraid. You could've saved me, it said sadly, but you didn't. You let me stay in my cage. I would die in my cage.

Isn't freedom what you believe in, Aria Gracen?

"Please, stop..." Aria found herself muttering, her heart clenching at the thought of the pure white bird dying in confinement, never to feel the winds rustling through it's feathers again, "I tried, I did, I tried..."

No, you didn't. You gave up.

You're not a bird like you dream you are.

You'll never soar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elysia Brisa

After I arrived in the port city, I immediately went straight for the boat. I didn't want to look around the city or have to pretend to socialize with everyone. I just wanted to get away from here already. I look over the side of the boat and I see everyone saying goodbye to their families and friends, feeling a pang of sadness. No one came to wish me farewell, not like I have anyone to even miss me. My village is probably already making plans on what to do with my house.

Well, I guess it wouldn't really be my village since they banished me a couple years ago. I told them I could have put out the fires if they just let me handle it, but no apparently I'm not "responsible" enough and "ruin" everything I touch. What do they know, they're just a bunch of mindless sheep.

They were so happy when I got picked, none of their precious children had to be sent off. It would have been great for them to grow a backbone and learn how to handle things without running to mommy and daddy.

I turn away from the site and look around the boat. I've never actually been on a boat before, I hope this rocking doesn't get any worse or I might get sick.

As I'm looking for a spot where I won't get sick, this girl with flowers in her hair walks over to me with this huge smile on her face. "Hi, I'm Elswyth!" She says, sticking out her hand. She's so preppy it's actually gross. I kind of eye her wearily and shake her hand. "I'm one of the Guardians, where are you from?"

I stutter out my response, "I'm Elysia, from Craorag."

Her green eyes widen as she looks at my choppy black hair, "Are you under 18?" There it is. Every time I tell people where I'm from, the automatically know that there's something wrong with me.

"No, I'm 20 years old. I just took it upon myself to be a teenaged vigilante, that got me into a lot of trouble."

I could tell she wanted to say something more, but it was time for her to go and welcome everyone to the competition. I didn't pay much attention to it, it was just a generic speech; probably the same one they use every time something like this happens.

Afterwards, we set sail and the rocking got so much worse, I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to the side of the ship and got sick over the edge.

Elswyth came over and said "Hey, why don't you go find your room and lay down for a bit." In her annoyingly perky voice.

I wiped my mouth, "I'm fine." And stalked off. I'm my own person. I don't need the help from some flower child. I carefully went down the steps to where our rooms were. Not because she told me to, but because I want to.

I finally found mine, I opened the unusually heavy door and slammed it close. Looks like I'm just gonna sleep for the next two days, not like I'll get much sleep during the competition. Holy crap this is the comfiest bed I've ever slept on. Although, that's not much considering my bed at home is made out of straw.

I close my eyes and try not to focus on the rocking of the ship, which doesn't take long because I can hear the other tributes around me being loud and obnoxious. Opening my door, I look down the hallway and see a girl with long black hair and the best posture I've ever seen step into a room labeled Lucia of Argi, she turned around when she heard my door open and flashed me this huge smile.

I waved back to her and closed my door again. Why is everyone so freaking perky on this ship?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Callus Therion

The world was filled with the clap of hooves and the incessant pounding of feet against cobblestone, the rush of society, and Callus was proud to be taking his good ole' time. Those that hustled, he believed, were those that wished life to move quickly, and those who wished for life to move quickly, he swore, were those that wished for death to come sooner. He was never one to wish for death, nor was he a fan of speed, so he was perfectly content with making each step count while those around him wasted dozens of footfalls in mere seconds.

Idiots, he thought, returning the smile of an elderly woman as he passed, don't they ever think about how short life is? A group of wrinkled men passed, shuffling as fast as their canes would allow. Callus narrowed his eyes, playing it off as if the sun were blinding him. Of course not. It seems no one takes time to appreciate the wonders of thinking.

He found his attention drifting to the hustle of the harbor. One ship sat in the water, thin boards leading up to it, and a steady stream of people walked up those boards, a few of them steady, others wobbling as they made their way up. He snickered as he saw one of them nearly lose their balance. Such a shame they caught themselves. Would've made for interesting discussion.

He turned to the line of venders across the ship, and a head of blonde stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of redheads. A smile grew on his lips. As he approached the boy he called a "friend," excitement grew in his stomach. He hasn't seen me yet...good. Vistorice was occupied with helping some man lift a trunk. He was struggling, chords thick against his neck, face red.

Callus was directly behind Vistorice, and with each step his lips lifted impossibly higher. He reached out slowly. I can get him... He clapped his hands on Vistorice's shoulders and hollered in his ear. Vistorice cursed and let go of the trunk. The man he'd been helping let go, too, so there was nothing to ease the pain that would result from the trunk when it would hit his foot.

In a last minute attempt to save his toes, Vistorice's arm shot out, and a thick layer of ice grew over his shoe. It offered enough time for him to jump back before the ice was shattered by the trunk. "Holy hell," he muttered, panting. He whirled on Callus. "Why would you do that?"

Callus couldn't reply, too busy dying of laughter. "It hurts, oh my, it hurts something fierce." He gripped his stomach, keeling over in waves of mirth. I can't wait to do that again. Perhaps next time it'll be an attempt to throw him overboard! At the thought of Vistorice helplessly dangling over the edge of a ship, he straightened his posture, chuckling.

Vistorice was unamused.

Coughing away his remaining laughs, Callus crossed his arms, matching the serious expression of the boy across from him. "And what has you so sour?"

"It couldn't possibly be because my foot was nearly smashed, or because I can no longer help this kind man move his belongings." He gestured to the man he'd been helping, and dropped a sack of coins into his palm. "Here, have these back. I'm afraid I'm on a tight schedule, and it'll take years before we can pick it up again."

"Why pay him back?" Callus asked. You'll just have to move faster to get that money back.

"Because, unlike you, I'm considerate. Now-" Vistorice stepped forward, brushing past Callus. "-I'm going to board. Please, walk at least ten feet behind me, if at all."

"Greetings to you too," Callus said, feigning offense. "Being my closest friend, I would think-"

"We are not, in any way, shape, or form, friends, Callus. Leave it at acquaintances." With that, Vistorice whirled on his heel, making his way to the ship that would take twenty-four mages to some over-the-top set of trials.

Callus huffed, running a hand through his hair. I try to be nice, and this is what I get in return. Oh well, I'm sure he'll get over it. He is a coin with two sides, after all.

He took a step with the intention of following, but an earsplitting ring filled his brain, and he was forced to shield his ears. Dread sneaked through his system like a snake, but he quickly sliced its head off, denying any trepidation to overcome him. This was a normal occurrence, there was no need to get fearful over something so simple. His eyes darted to the crowds rushing by. No one took notice to the ringing - they wouldn't, anyhow. Not even Vistorice was victim to the sound. It'll be over in a moment. Just...calm.

As the ringing faded out, hooves took its place, as did wheels bumping against the bumpy road. It seemed to appear out of nowhere, and the crowd flew to the sides of the wide lane, making way for a carriage rocketing towards them. However, one figure remained in the center, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to take notice of the set of two horses pounding their way to him.

Annoyance reared in Callus' system, and his feet matched the stomps of the horses as he marched to the slow-going figure. The one time it's acceptable to take it slow, you near stop in the way of things that will crush you! "Vistorice!" he hollered. "You are a fool to an astronomical degree!"

The boy finally seemed to break loose from his mind, and snapped his head to the carriage barreling towards them. His eyes were the size of dishes, his legs trembled as he took a few pointless steps back. Coward. Callus rolled his eyes, and came up behind Vistorice. His fingers became shackles about Vistorice's wrist, and he held his arm up. "Do what you do best, pal," he said, his next words a whisper. "Turn everything you know to ice."

Vistorice gulped, and that's all there was to it for the bracelet beneath Callus' hand to darken to obsidian, and a steady plume of ice to shoot forth from the blonde-haired boy's hand. The horses reared back, refusing to take one step closer to the icy clouds. From where he stood, Callus felt the bite of what left Vistorice's palm. He shivered. "Well," he said, "you've got some kick to you, I'll say that much." It'll be best to keep you around.

The boy shook himself out of his dumbfounded stupor, and wrenched away from Callus. He kept his head low as he continued onwards to the ship waiting in the harbor. The cloud was still thick around them, so when it disappeared, the prying eyes of the citizens of Craorag wouldn't narrow at them in disgust. No rocks would be thrown, nor would insults find their ears. They would be long gone. Such a shame, Callus thought, following cheerily behind Vistorice, I liked this place considerably more than any other in this fast-paced country.

His feet met the rickety boards that would take them onto the ship. But it's still too quick, and I'm glad to be leaving. Callus cleared his throat, careful not to wobble. "You know, Mister Morale, I'm thinking we'll have a fine time on this voyage, don't you think?"

Vistorice was still shaken up about his near flattening, evident in his voice as he replied. "As long as we don't end up sleeping beside each other."

~~~

Callus grinned smugly to himself as he came up behind a defeated Vistorice, staring at their sleeping quarters for the next two days. Oh, this is golden. "Looks like we'll be sharing the same space for a bit, eh?"

Vistorice's shoulders slumped and he seemed to shrink to half his height. The line of cots pushed uncomfortably close together was enough to send one with claustrophobia into a frenzy. "I think I'll be jumping overboard sometime soon."

"Aw, don't be like that." Callus pulled Vistorice out of the large space, into a corridor. The ship was already drifting full sail, and he would've been lying if he said he didn't feel nauseous. "At least let me push you, don't just end it yourself."

Vistorice's face was pure stone, and he paid the man beside him no second glance. "How kind of you. Anyways, I'm heading off to the kitchen. I'd like to know specifics on what we have."

Callus waved him off, glad he could be left alone. No one needed to watch him use the walls for support as he made his way through this ship, no one needed to stare as a sickening shade of green veiled his face. Damn the sea. It moves too fast, and I'm left trying to hold my insides together. A rough wave sent Callus' shoulder into the wall, and he groaned, pushing back stray hairs.

He continued on this way until he came to a set of stairs and, after making sure no one was around, used the rail to lug himself up, gripping his stomach. His teeth dug into his lip as his head surfaced from the staircase and the vomit started to rise. I guess I'm the average landlubber. If only I'd taken a liking to hydromancy, maybe this tragedy wouldn't have happened. He nearly thought of throwing a mental insult at psychomancy, his specialty, but stopped himself before any degrading ideas entered his brain. "The mind is a beautiful thing!" he hollered, rushing over to the ship's edge so he could lean over. Immediately everything he'd eaten that day was dispelled from his system, and he was left groaning in disgust at himself.

Orange flashed in the corner of his eye - it reminded him of the comforts of Craorag - and he turned to the source. The owner of the bland shade of red tore her gaze away from his bent form, but Callus regarded her existence before she could scurry away. "Well, hello to you too, Miss Gracen."

As soon as she laid eyes on him she narrowed them, and immediately took off in the direction she'd been going. Callus, reluctantly, pulled himself away from the ledge and jogged to catch up. He rested his elbow on her shoulder. "How are you on this fine day, Aria?"

Aria shrugged his arm away. "Fine."

How rude. I try to spark up conversation, and she just ignores me. Typical. He had no intentions of giving up there. "How do you feel about the voyage?"

The corner of her mouth pulled down. "Fine."

"Wonderful," Callus said. He opened his mouth to keep the spark of the conversation going, but he clamped it shut - not because he figured his breath must be putrid, although that played a factor - but because, coming from the other side of the ship, there was a cacophony of cheers and booing.

He was drawn away from the boring enigma that was Aria, and picked up his pace as best he could without pulling more of his morning meal onto the deck. This is another such instance in which I will accept moving quickly. What in the world could that be? Remembering his manners, he offered Aria a simple, "I'll speak with you later," to which she replied, "Please don't."

Curiosity spiked within him every second. It dueled with the nausea, soon diminishing it entirely, his mind taken off the unsettling rock of the ship. Once he'd made it to the stern and come out from behind a stack of crates, he finally saw what caused all the ruckus. He took a few steps forward, excitement popping in his veins, adrenaline. A smirk crawled upon his face. A little tussle going on here, eh?

A crowd of mages had assembled around two people, offering words of encouragement to the one they'd placed their bets on. One, who Callus identified as Gajeel. He sneered. Figures the brute would be in the center of all this. Now...who's the other fellow? Dhruva, that was his name.

The two stood a few feet apart, going round and round in circles, crouched into stances Callus could only guess were meant for fighting. He immediately fell into a trance, throwing all his focus on taking in every detail about the pair. Gajeel had a fierceness to his face, a malicious smile - no, not malicious, a satisfied smile painted his face. His eyes flickered every now and then to the crowd, sparkling with delight.

Dhruva, however, was an entirely different matter. But something radiated off of him, something so strong that Callus couldn't help but detect it. His watch buzzed in his pocket. That boy has one strong focus. Something went off in his brain just then, and his smug grin deepened. He tuned out the cheers of the audience around him and reached into his pocket, running his thumb across the back of his watch. I've been waiting for a risk such as this. Shh, he thought, regarding his pocketwatch, I know you're anxious; give it a moment.

He dug his nail into one of the grooves of the watch just as Dhruva took a calculated swing. Gajeel ducked, throwing a punch of his own, which Dhruva predicted and avoided. Let's brush up a little, shall we? He felt the energy from the watch curling up through his fingertips and slowly push its way up to one of his major arteries. Once it hit that mark, it rushed through him like ice, soon coming to rest right behind his eyes.

Callus projected that coldness to the back of Dhruva's head, plunking him right in the center. His shoulder twitched right in the middle of a swing, and he missed Gajeel's face by a few inches. The opponent took this moment to slam his fist into Dhruva's nose, and an audible crack made Callus cringe.

He still cheered along with the crowd at his success. I'm such a talented young mage, aren't I? The expression on his face showed only amusement.

Gajeel pumped the air with his fist, giving a proud cry as Dhruva stalked away, holding his nose. "I am, once more, undefeated," Gajeel said.

Callus' tongue got the best of him in that moment. "That cocky grin says you believe so, but is that the truth?" Because, last time I checked, I was the one to catch him off guard for you.

The crowd erupted in surprised "ooh's," and Gajeel whirled to face Callus. He was not intimidated, rather, he was expectant. Who says I can't make my own fun? "Perhaps you'd find better comfort down in your quarters? Top decks no place for a tender being such as yourself." Gajeel's grin said he thought himself clever.

Callus crossed his arms. "And yet here you are." At the crowd's sounds of approval, he shrugged. "I would go, but it seems you've riled me up a bit here."

Gajeel's smile faltered just a bit, but it was enough for Callus to notice. Then again, nothing got past him. Ever. "Well," he said, "mind having a go at it, you and me?"

Callus stroked his chin, as if deep in thought. This worked out far better than I thought. "All right, I'll bite." He took a step forward to enter the circle when a frigid palm landed on his shoulder. He looked back to see Vistorice. No, he's too unsettled to be that one... The blackness of his bracelet hadn't gone away.

Callus smiled, patted the boy on the head, and took a step back. "It's fine, Vistor. I'll only rough him up a bit. Nothing to kill him." Vistor narrowed his eyes, and flung his arm out towards the opponent before fading into the background of the crowd. Callus raised a brow. Strange. But he's strange in general.

"You gonna fight, or what?"

Callus rolled his shoulders. Another idiot that moves far too fast. I'll have my fun. He turned, fell into a crouch much like Dhruva had done, and held his fists in front of him.

Gajeel was the first to swing. It happened so suddenly he almost caught Callus in the same way he'd caught Dhruva. Almost. A chuckle burst from his chest. "What, don't want to warn me first?"

"Then it wouldn't be a fight."

"Oh, no, but I'd know when the fight began. Take this as a lesson-" Callus launched his arm forward, skimming his knuckles across Gajeel's bicep. Close enough.

Gajeel flinched and threw himself to the side, and the crowd blew up in laughter. His old smirk faded to a disgusted frown. "Can never be too cautious. However, after that little thing, I'd be willing to bet money your punches would feel like the tap of a fly."

Callus scoffed. "Well, we're nearly the same height, of the same build, so I'd assume you're not much better."

Gajeel seemed to take great offense to this, and Callus couldn't have been happier as the man lunged for him, hooking an arm around his throat and forcing him to the ground. Aha, finally, a time when speed is encouraged! "I don't think it's all too fair if you're holding me here for four seconds instead of seeing if I'm still physically able to stand, no?"

He seemed to toss this through his mind for a moment, and Callus took this moment of closeness to transfer what was left of what he'd brought behind his eyes into the man. His nails found residence in Gajeel's forearm. Callus saw the little rushes of white barrel through the man's veins until they arrived in his skull and he rose off of him. I'm magnificent.

"Do you yield?" Gajeel asked, towering above Callus.

Callus simply sighed and rolled his eyes. How boring this has become. He swung his legs out, tripping Gajeel. The burly man crashed to the deck, and Callus hopped to his feet, switching their roles. "Does that answer your question?"

With a growl, the man was back on his feet, hands cast to the sun. Before he could react, Callus was blinded by a flash of light, and soon his nose had suffered the same fate as Dhruva's. Right, photomancy. I forgot. He stumbled backwards, gripping his nose as the rush of warm blood spilled past his fingers.

A pair of freezing hands caught him before he fell back - Vistor, once more, and Callus was grateful to his promiscuous mother for giving birth to such a child.

Callus wasn't even given time to thank the boy before the image of Gajeel's face was upon him, and a fist was coming at his eye. Dread dropped in his stomach like a weight. Maybe this wasn't the best idea of mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vistorice Morale

If I were to awake as Vistorice...

I had taken a dirt trail to the city, counting the footsteps that were left there by the people before me. Every indent had a different marking, in size, shape, and depth. Some were repeatedly beaten into the dirt floor, and most disappeared when the rain began to pour down.

I smiled; I loved the rain.

Each drop's life-span fell short as they dissipated into the ground, but some were lengthened as they trailed across my skin. I could feel the power they gave; the rain grew colder when it fell around me.

The city had many indications of being by an ocean, other than the vast ocean itself. If it hadn't been raining, the air would feel just as moist, and the shops sold various items pertaining to voyages. I was told to buy nothing; preparation was unnecessary, I assumed. The others around me ran about frantically, whispering sour nothings at the "horrid" weather. With every passerby, I grimaced. They were unappreciative of the beauty that comes with a brewing storm. However, I did feel uneasy, because I was supposed to be boarding a ship, and storms weren't great for that kind of plan.

I saw the ship soon after I entered, its largeness and shape taking control of the skyline. It was so vast that I had to turn my head back and forth to see the whole thing. A herd of others crowded around it, growing wet as time passed by. These are the people I must outdo. Shouldn't be too hard, I thought, growing competitive. I twirled the bracelet on my wrist with the opposite hand. Touching it gave me a sense of empowerment.

I walked briskly towards the dock, realizing how easy it was to pinpoint those from Aavayoh and Vasileio. There was an unusual female standing apart from the rest, her black-haired roots bleeding into the purple dye. She appeared fragile, and I almost mistook her for a Lirimani, considering her skin was pale like one. I wanted to speak to her, but another man caught my eye. He was physically attractive, thinning as my eyes trailed down his body. Muscular above, yet useless below. I frowned slightly, but the expression was no match against his prevalent scowl. Both stood alone, but not in a lonely sense. It was an authoritative decision to remove themselves from the crowd of other magi; I disliked them.

"Vistorice!" a familiar voice called. Callus wrapped his arm around my shoulder and walked in line with my steps. From the corner of my eye, I could see his fiery red hair. It made me cringe, but I was calmed when I looked into his grey-blue eyes. They were almost platinum, and they flickered with a vicious luster. One glance at me made his face soften. Stepping away, he raised an eyebrow and cautiously lifted his hands as a defense mechanism.

"Uh, Vistor?" he asked warily, giving himself a forewarning of who I was. I should be just as lucky, for Callus happened to change personalities quicker than I.

"Oh, no! I just hate that hair of yours. It's awfully red, don't you think?" I asked, beginning to stride faster towards the ship. People were beginning to step on; soon the fragile girl and attractive man were both following the group submissively.

"It's the law, Vistorice," Callus said with the undertones of a growl. I was well-aware that his hair was natural for the most-part, but I insisted on poking fun at him. It was amusing to see his face contort with sudden frustration.

"Yes, the law. But do you need to dye it as much as you do? It's rather much," I teased, walking ahead of him. He stopped, watching me with swift eyes.

"It's natural!" he called, ignoring the odd looks of people around him. Most ran past in a hurry, searching for shelter, but neither of the young men needed to settle away from the rain.

"I'm sure it is!" I called back, stepping onto the wooden platform, raised above the ocean. The planks shook under my feet; they were unstable, yet still reliable. Hysterically, Callus ran to me and continued to argue. Every step held a syllable of his words and a quake of the dock, both ceasing as the ship came within reach. My hand would touch the structure if I was to reach for it, and I felt as if it was ethereal, holy.

"I jest, Callus, but this..." I pointed at the entrance. "This is real." His face deepened, mind taking his worldly frustration and eradicating it. All that was heard, the pitter-patter of the raindrops against wood as it gradually degraded with moist.

We entered, sealing our futures like stone-casted tombs. Stepping back seemed so simple at the time, but there was only one choice: moving forward. It was either commitment, or shame.

It was an easy decision.

~*~

If he were to awake as Vistor...

"Uh, Vistor?" Callus asked, a sense of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. Vistor didn't nod, nor did he give any verbal sign of affirmation, but Callus just knew he was correct.

"Alright," he muttered, shrugging it off. Vistor wouldn't speak, so there was no point in any attempt of conversation. The most Callus said the whole time was, "Jeez, you'd think the rain would let up on a day like this, huh?" Of course, he didn't receive an answer. Not from Vistor.

The rain was less beautiful than it could've been, for Vistor saw the downpour as a burden. It endangered their voyage, and he would be damned if they postponed the thing. The ship's normally light brown color darkened with the wetness, and Vistor grimaced as he stepped aboard. It was an adventure he committed too, but he still disliked the responsibility. His bracelet shook against his wrist as the ship rocked back and forth on the water. Everything felt off-balance, but the disequilibrium soon became a commodity to movement. Vistor stood against one of the ship's edges, back facing the sea. It made him feel in control, at least a little bit. Callus stood near, but far enough to be unassociated with the cryomancer.

A girl with unevenly colored hair walked around with uncertainty, avoiding all interactions and, seemingly, sounds themselves. She made eye contact with him, and he nodded to make the exchange less awkward. Her cheeks heated as she scurried away like a dormouse. Vistor frowned, thinking negatively of her, but another man caught his attention. The way he stood screamed confident and suave, but his eyes diminished that to a sheer coldness. Vistor chuckled as the man's eyes followed a woman walking by. She dismissed him with a wave of a hand, causing him to pale even further into indignation. He sighed heavily and looked around to see who had witnessed the rejection. He noticed Vistor, scowling.

"This isn't a show!" he called across the ship. Everyone within hearing range turned to look at Vistor, curious as to why Mathias al Thea was shouting. They took one glance at him and then followed his eyes to Vistor, who stiffened. Under their evaluation, Vistor grew heated. The small sense of control disappeared as several of the magi physically looked down at him, from the upper-floors of the ship. He even felt flushed when people looked at him on the same level. He had been degraded with a mere raise of the voice. It unsettled him.

Two sweaty palms and two crimson cheeks later, Vistor was more than distempered. Calmly, however, dishonorable. Mathias, whom Vistor had no previous knowledge of, turned and laid his forearms against the ship's railing. The way his back curved as it bent forward was unnatural, but the position itself seemed comfortable. Vistor paid no attention to anything else, only the way his bracelet tightened around his skin. The obsidian coloration could be seen from underneath his dogged clothing. Vistor felt disgraced with what he wore, for it labelled him as piteous. The fabric made the grey appear disheveled, and Vistor was ashamed to put it on in the mornings. The garment was dark, but the crystals were still prevalent, although they were hidden. Callus could sense the ensuing actions, for Vistor adorned a look of determination. It was as if Mathias had wronged him and Vistor needed to avenge himself.

Vistor raised his head to gaze longingly at each drop of rain in the sky. It had gone unnoticed for a time, but the water above their heads made Vistor stronger. His hand rose slightly, staying close to his hip, but furthering enough for free movement. His eyes latched onto a single droplet above Mathias, and then another, and another. One of his fingers flicked every time his eyes moved; the tremor was purposeful.

With every flick, a drop of rain froze into hail. Gravity then followed its course, and the sharpness of ice fell onto Mathias' head. He recoiled in a slight pain, like Vistor had planned. A red puddle formed over Mathias' exposed skin, where the blades of ice had landed. Vistor felt no remorse for what he had done.

If he had awoken as Vistorice, then maybe, but today was different.

For Vistor, it was an easy decision.

Nobody makes a mockery out of me.

~*~

Whether Vistorice or Vistor, the expedition had begun.

Shame, the root of inspiration.

For he had been chosen, put up for this trial.

And he'd go 'til success, meanwhile...

Occurrences of day changed based on his identity.

Vistorice-

Vistor-

Still gone, gone for destiny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Garnet al Thea

A blasphemously idiotic tribute had brought a brown ball of furry filth onboard the ship. As if this crime wasn't horrendous enough, the tribute, who was clearly pitifully lacking in the contents of their skull, had neglected to keep their muddy beast under control and away from the future Moon Queen's one of a kind dress.

Garnet flicked her hand in front of her in a shooing motion. "Go away, little mutt ball. Shoo."

The rodent shook its disgusting excuse for a tail and stuck its slimy tongue out at her. It jumped up and used the rustling fabric of Garnet's dress as a cane for its filthy paws. Garnet let out a rather unqueenly shriek and kicked the beast off. It fell away with a whimper.

She peered down at her dress. The gossamer gold fabric was now marred by little brown paw prints. She wanted to cry. Now her dress was ruined. Guardians only knew if the stains would ever come out. Even if they did, the scrubbing it would require might destroy the coloration entirely. And until it was fixed, the dress no longer matched the bone in her hair.

This was absolutely unacceptable. Whoever was responsible for bringing the miniature monster onboard would be the first Garnet would kill on the island.

Her hands fell to her sides in flawless fists. Presently, she was in a narrow wooden hallway between the ship's railing and the inside area of the deck. She only knew the floor was wooden on the observation that the floor swallowed up the sound of her high heels as she stalked across it.

A nauseatingly high pitched voice squealed from behind, "Ooh Muffin! There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere, little guy!"

Garnet spun on her heels. Her lips were poised to demand from this lack wit newcomer how they presumed to call the future Moon Queen a 'little guy', but at once she observed that the girl in question was speaking to the muddy monster.

So this was the pathetically unintelligent being that had brought forth the horrid creature onto the boat. Garnet sized her up with a gaze filtered by disgust. The woman was older than Garnet was by a number of years, but she bounced about with the enthusiasm of child. She scooped the brown ball into her arms and Garnet instinctively flinched at the thought of the effect such an action could have on her image. Obviously, the woman lacked either the perceptiveness to comprehend that effect, or the proper decency to care.

Garnet strolled up to the woman (while remaining at a safe distance from the mutt, of course) and balled her hands on her hips. She cleared her throat in a manner perfectly befitting a proper young lady of her high birth.

The woman turned around and lifted her head. For the first time, Garnet had a clear look at the woman's face. Garnet recognized her at once.

The woman was Elswyth, Daughter of Idessa: the Guardian of Lirimia.

Garnet's mouth was silent but her mind spat out every curse she knew. She forced her lips to curve upward in a dazzlingly beautiful smile. She batted her eyelashes for good measure.

"Hello there." Garnet's hand fluttered to cover her throat as if she were amazed to meet this peculiar woman. "You're Elswyth, Daughter of Idessa, are you not?"

Elswyth smiled and clutched the beast to her chest. "That is I."

"I am a huge admirer of yours." Garnet shook her head as if she were amazed. "The work you've done...it is incredible. Truly."

Elswyth's grin widened. "It feels so good to be appreciated," she admitted in a squeal. "All the other Guardians take all the credit so often..."

"I am sure they do," Garnet agreed. "For certain, they must be envious of your success. I know I would be. Who would not?"

A if to remind her of what a rude little piece of dirt it was, the filth in Elswyth's arms let out a piercing bark. A change in expression came over Elswyth's face, but Garnet couldn't identify what it was.

She looked deeply at Garnet for the first time. "What is your name?"

Garnet slipped into a perfect curtsy. "Princess Garnet al Thea, of Aavaoyoh, if it please you."

Elswyth's mouth folded into a frown. "No, it does not please me." The monster howled again. Elswyth's frown deepend. "Muffin tells me you are unkind to dogs."

Garnet's heart began to beat faster in an unpleasant rhythm. "I do not know what you are talking about."

Elswyth glared at Garnet, surprisingly intimidating. "Muffin says you kicked him and called him a....monster was it?" The dog made a sharp noise. "Oh, I'm sorry, mutt ball. You called him a mutt ball."

"I have not the slightest idea what you speak of," Garnet said smoothly. "Perhaps Muffin is mistaken. There are a great deal of other young women on this ship at present."

Elswyth's glare was as pointed as the tip of a knife's blade. "Garnet al Thea, the only person I like almost as little as I like an animal hater is a liar. If I were you, I would do well to try not to displease me in any other way, or else you may find your time on the island is tragically short." Elswyth skipped away down the hall like a child, her tattling terror held close in her arms.

One day, when Garnet was Moon Queen, she would make sure that Elswyth would lose every last ounce of respectability she had: which wasn't saying much. Elswyth and Garnet's father were similar in that manner. They, unlike Garnet, didn't have much pride to begin with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei al Thea

Mei felt like she was being watched.

She glanced around the docks, and sure enough there were a few tributes looking at her. That wasn't what was making her skin crawl though. It was expected for everyone to be sizing each other up at this point. There was something else, a presence that made her uneasy.

A pale, blonde-haired boy standing off by himself caught her eye. He was talking to himself. No, a shimmer in the air.

A spirit.

A shiver ran all the way from the top of her head, down her spine, to the soles of her feet, and she unconsciously gripped the hilt of her sword. Mei couldn't abide things that were not of this world. The first spell she'd ever cast, accidentally, was to send her master's demon back to the Void. She itched to do the same to this spirit, but wasn't altogether sure she could even accomplish it. Banishment was a very difficult spell.

She tried to ignore it's ethereal eyes following her movements, and went back to staring at the ocean. Mei had never seen it before. It was beautiful, and terrifying. She was a little uneasy about the journey. The ship, as large as it was, seemed flimsy in the face of those vast open waters.

A young girl ran by, distracting Mei from her reverie. It took her another look to realize that the girl wasn't running on the dock. She was running on the water, her necklace glowing like the sun. Controlling the surface tension of the water, especially while running, was a difficult feat for any Hydromancer, in particular for one so young. Mei was impressed.

Others had noticed the talented girl as well. Not to be outshone, one of her fellow Aavayoans, a beautiful noble girl, created a ball of light that left her hands to dance around the docks. It zipped around the ship, up to the crow's nest, where it flitted around the head of the lookout.

The poor sailor swatted at it, clearly afraid, while the girl and a few others laughed. Having been at the receiving end of too many of the nobles' "jokes", Mei was finally going to do something about it.

She drew her sword and whispered softly to it, eliciting a glow in response. Using all her concentration, she traced a shining rune in the air with the tip of her sword in the direction of the ball of light. With a final surge of power she released her spell, cutting the tie between the ball of light and its caster, effectively dispelling it.

As the light winked out, Mei sheathed her sword, noting the lookout's smile of relief. She also felt the Photomancer's eyes hurling daggers into her back. Mei certainly hadn't made a friend in that one, but she turned around and faced her squarely, her conscience clear.

With a glare the beautiful girl turned, her shining black hair whirling out behind her, and stalked onto the boat.

Guardian Elswyth was on deck speaking to the captain. Mei began to make her way up the gangplank, figuring they'd be on their way soon.

"Oh, can I say it? Please?" Guardian Elswyth was asking the captain something, bouncing up and down excitedly.

The gray haired captain of the ship laughed good naturedly. "Go ahead, Ellie, I'll tell the crew to weigh anchor." He turned and walked away, and Guardian Elswyth took a deep breath.

"AAAAALL ABOOOOOARD!" Elswyth yelled at the top of her lungs, startling a red-haired girl standing near her so badly she almost fell. She giggled. "Sorry dear, should have warned you."

All of the tributes began to crowd onto the deck. Mei found herself uncomfortably close to a very tall, intimidating woman. She looked down at Mei, and their eyes met. "Abjurer," she said somewhat coldly as way of greeting.

Looking into her eyes, Mei suddenly knew why the woman made her so uncomfortable. "Demonologist." Mei had never had a good experience with a demonologist. That had been the specialty of the master of the house that she was raised in, and he had been a very cruel man. She edged away from the woman as quickly as she could.

She brushed past a young girl with long black hair, and caught a glimpse of unsettling blue eyes before the girl looked away and hid behind her bangs. Mei shivered slightly from a sudden chill and moved on to stand in a spot relatively free of people next to the railing.

Standing closest to her was a man she recognized from Aavayoh. He was leaning on the railing looking up at the sky. He felt her looking and glanced her way. He nodded in greeting and then went back to looking at stars that none of the rest of them could see.

"Alright everyone, listen up!" Now that it seemed everyone was on deck, Guardian Elswyth was addressing the tributes. "We've got a two day journey ahead of us to the Island." The giggling girl Mei had seen earlier was gone, and this woman was deadly serious. "I suggest you take advantage of this time to rest and build up your magical energies. Once on the island you will likely have no such luxury. If any one of you harms a hair on one of your fellow tributes' heads on this ship, you'll have to answer to me. Unless you want to wake up with ten rats burrowing into your intestines, play nice." The silence on deck was so absolute, you could hear the vendors in the market hawking their wares a mile inland. "Well that's everything, let's enjoy the ride everyone, it's such a beautiful day!" Elswyth finished with a cheerful smile and bounced off to the captain's cabin.

Mei looked around at her fellow tributes. Some were huddled together, forming alliances. Others were standing off by themselves, lost in their own worlds. A couple were glaring at specific targets, a few more glaring at everyone. It was going to be a long two days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Atlanta al Thea

The city square was bristling with the hustle and bustle of the crowds of people as we arrived at the marketplace, led by Guardian Elswyth herself. The people's whispers and stares followed me as we cut a way through the mob, with Elswyth calling out for everyone to stand aside every now and again. I admired the fact that her voice was always cheery, her smile never faltered, and her kindness at no time faded during our journey-which had just begun. All twenty-four of us-twenty-five, if I included Elswyth-still had a two day trip by ship to the island of the Guardians, and after that, the true test begins.

And then I would finally be able to prove myself as a true magus of Aavayoh.

My mother's parting words rang in my ears, "You are now a Thea of Aavayoh, but always remember that you are born of House Cervus-and you shall do your family proud."

House Cervus, I pondered thoughtfully while our group was led past several stalls towards the docks, Sigil: a stag. The symbol of nobility.

Saying: We Do Not Fail.

"We do not fail," I mumbled under my breath, the sea wind ruffling my brunette hair.

"What?" a female voice asked curiously, and I whipped my head around, previously unaware of my surroundings or that I had been muttering out loud. A girl stood next to me, staring at me curiously with grey-blue eyes. Her ginger hair told me plainly that she was from Craorag, although I could not decipher what area of magic she specialized in. At the academy they taught me well how to recognize the magical specialty of other magi. Phytomancers are usually female, and xenosorcerers usually are the ones who do not socialize much. And of course, I am not deaf. I use my ears to my advantage, even for street gossip. At times gossip have a fragment of truth in them.

I gave the ginger a brief nod to acknowledge her presence, as Mother had told me to do so, and explained, "I was repeating my family's sayings. Forgive me if I'd disturbed you."

She cracked a grin, falling in step beside me. The sea port was in plain sight now, the marketplace giving way to the calm, blue sea. I breathed in the crisp, ocean air, suddenly feeling less stuffy in my best dress-a satin blue one that came down to my ankles, complete with my necklace of a Celtic sun, my Focus-and relaxed subconsciously. The sea, the ocean, the water. It was where I belonged.

"Do you always speak like that?" the ginger asked as Lady Elswyth weaved her way through the horde of fishermen and sea merchants who bowed before her. Seeing that the both of us had fallen back, I quickened my pace to catch up when the ginger took a gentle hold of my arm, pulling me back. "I'm Aria, by the way. Aria Gracen."

I turned towards her, feeling a slight prickle of irritation settle in my stomach, but I smiled politely and dipped a small curtesy, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Gracen. I am honored to be competing against your side."

Aria laughed awkwardly, pulling me up by the elbow, "Aria's fine. You don't have to call me 'Lady' and be so formal. What's your name?"

Startled that I had forgotten this part of the customary greeting, I stammered, "Atlanta al Thea, Lady Ar-I mean, Aria. Previously titled Atlanta al Cervus, of House Cervus of Aavayoh." Inwardly cringing at how discourteous I sounded, I was glad that Mother was not hear to see me like this.

Aria raised an eyebrow and started walking again, "Are you always this formal?"

I was about to reply when Aria looked downwards, looking nervous unexpectedly, and she fidgeted with her hands, "I'm sorry, Atlanta-I mean, Miss Atlanta. Lady Atlanta? I-I-I did not mean-"

"It is fine," I smiled at her-my one true smile in days-and glanced at our group of magi growing further in the distance. Guardian Elswyth had already arrived at a ship at the far end of the dock. Entwining my fingers in Aria's, I pulled her forwards, careful not to trip over my elegant blue dress. Extremely beautiful it was, hand-made by Mother and her ladies, but it was as unpractical for this journey as it was beautiful. Aria, I noticed, was wearing what seemed like men's clothes, complete with a black travelling cloak that trailed behind her. It made her petite form seem twice as big, and her head seemed almost lost in the hood of the cloak.

I wondered how I'd look in a travelling cloak like that.

The both of us caught up with Lady Elswyth as the rest of the Selected began boarding. Seeing both of us, Lady Elswyth sent us a cheery smile and a wave. Aria waved back shyly, seemingly becoming much more timid in the presence of a greater number of people. She gripped my hand tightly as we walked into the belly of the ship. A steward greeted us inside, dressed in a smart blue-and-white uniform, and bowed politely. I curtsied, as usual, and Aria awkwardly copied me, and nearly ended up face-first on the floor. Resisting the urge to sigh, I straightened my back as the steward asked for our names and which country we were from.

"Atlanta al Thea, of Aavayoh, kind sir." I stated, moving aside so that a female from Vasileio-Fabionna, I think-could pass through where another steward greeted her.

The man checked a scroll in his hands and nodded, his brown eyes warm, "Welcome, Miss Atlanta, aboard the Harmony. Your room for the journey is number 21." He handed me a set of brass keys that were sitting on a table behind me, before bowing once more, "Everything you need has already been escorted to your room. We wish you a pleasant journey."

"Thank you, sir...?" my voice trailed off as I looked into the man's eyes, curious. Behind me, Aria fidgeted with the sleeve of my dress, seemingly unaware of what she was doing.

The man chuckled, "Brickenden, good lady. John, son of Brickenden, from Lirima."

Another cutesy, another dip of the head, "It has been a pleasure, Sir John, son of Brickenden." With that, I let go of Aria's hand and started down a hallway with an arrow conveniently reading 'Rooms 20-25'. Eager to get to my new room, I picked up the helm of my dress and hurried down the carpeted hallway, my heels making hardly any noise on the ground. Turning a right, then a left, I finally came to a magnificent, towering mahogany door with the words, 'Atlanta al Thea' engraved in perfect cursive on the wood. Mentally noting to write a letter to Mother about the grand ship and my journey to the islands, I took out the key Sir Brickenden had given to me and inserted it inside the keyhole. Giving it a small twist, the lock clicked open and I pushed open the door.

Inside stood a room of grandeur, fit for a Queen. A glamorous golden canopy bed sat daintily on ivory legs in the middle of a room, placed stylishly on top of a white tiger's skin. I had heard of these rare and ferocious animals who were very nearly extinct, and my heart did a little leap of excitement at the sight of it's head, and its glassy brown eyes that stared up at me. Diverting my gaze away from the tiger skin mat, I closed the door lightly and stepped forward, letting out a breath that I didn't even realize I was holding in. A rosewood writing desk, complete with a matching chair, were placed in the corner of the room. A stream of golden light beamed gently onto the room from the porthole, giving the chamber a homey type of feeling. Sighing, I let myself drop facedown onto the covers on the bed, burying my face in the velvety covers. Even Lady al Aireton, the wealthiest woman I had known back in Aavayoh, had not a chamber as great as this.

Mother would kill to be here. I thought, then quickly shook the ridiculous notion away. Atlanta, don't be foolish, I chided myself, Mother is an honorable woman, and so is Father. Do not joke about death.

Nodding to myself, I got up from my facedown position on the blankets and turned around, messing up my hair, but I hardly noticed. Staring at the pearly-white ceiling, I heard the ship give its traditional three hoots, before feeling the vessel move from beneath my feet.

"It's begun," I said out loud, a million thoughts swarming my mind, my heart pounding at the speed of light. It's begun.

You are a Thea of Aavayoh, Atlanta born of House Cervus. You know our words.

We Do Not Fail.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elysia al Thea

IGNORED WARNING AND TRIED AT HOME

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mathias al Thea

DID NOT HAND IN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dhruva al Thea

Relaxing was easy when you had nothing to be afraid of.

I knew I could win, and I knew it would be easy as pie. I wasn't scared, not even because the boat was moving a bit too fast for my liking. Still, I looked better than the Lirima girl who was leaning over the railing, looking positively green.

I lounged near the cabins, twisting my earring back and forth absently, watching the few who dared to walk along the deck of the ship, occasionally stumbling on the moving wood. It took some time to get used to the movements of the ship.

I yawned and stood, barely managing to clutch the railing before I fell. The ship had its dangers, but even so, I wasn't about to give up. A quick rub of my earring calmed me, and I exhaled sharply, throwing a wink in the direction of a brunette Vasileian as she passed me, and her eyes nearly rolled all the way back into her head.

I stumbled down the stairs, but laughed off the trip as I passed a pretty, sweet faced blonde, and she smiled at me sweetly. The people were all kind so far, or extraordinarily bitter, but that wasn't something I could fix.

"Anyone got something to do around here?" I poked my head in the bunk area, where a few people were dealing out cards and others were creating sparks of magic with their fingers, but none of them paid me any attention. There was a shortage of guys, I'd noticed - only about a quarter of the twenty-four selected to be in the Trials were male, including me. The Trials would be a woman fest - if any of them could get along. Girls fought.

I sighed and left the room, but not before giving my earring another twirl and giving the dark haired girl playing cards - rather recognizable, as she was from my homeland - another wink, nearly tripping back up the stairs. The ship lurched again, but I was getting the hang of it, and I shifted my weight as the boat rocked itself back to a semblance of balance.

I swung myself into a small room where a dark-haired girl - woman, really - was sitting, moving small puzzle pieces around a map. Her white linen robes hung neatly around her, and I grinned.

"Elswyth, right?" I smiled at the Guardian. "I wanted to say thank you, for bringing all of us, and escorting us. Must take a lot of patience, eh?"

"Dhruva?"

"Yes."

She jumped up and engulfed me in a hug. "My goodness, you're all so sweet! A few others have been in here and I just love all of you, my goodness!" One hand brushed her hair out of her face as she spoke quickly, and glanced me up and down. "You're all delights, really, it's no worries for me to be on the ship. The others are very busy setting up with your Trials. Oh, you'll love it!"

A laugh escaped before I could stop myself, and I found myself smiling. "Well, it's a honor to be here, Guardian. I'm sure the Trials will be wonderful."

"Oh, but they'll be hard," she assured me, a wide smile still staying fixed to her face. "The sky won't be as beautiful as it is here, you can trust me. Don't worry, though, sunshine, I'm sure you'll all do wonderfully!"

"Uh, thank you." Her spirit was adorably cheerful, but I wasn't the type to stick around, especially with all the sky talk. I scratched the back of my head and smiled uncomfortably. "Thanks, miss."

"Oh, do make friends, Dhruva," she added as I approached the door. "You'll need them, you know."

"Thanks?" I felt like I was being repetitive, but there was nothing more for me to say before I slipped through the door, Elswyth already returned to her map-thing. The deck was looking bright as ever, so I headed back up, a frantic clutch at the railing the only thing saving me from toppling down the stairs as the ship lurched again.

Although it was still light outside, the sky was darkening, rays of the sun sparkling against the waves as they pushed the boat forwards. The green-looking girl was still sitting out, but she looked ready to vomit over the deck, so I steered clear of her and neared a dark-haired girl, her green eyes reflecting the golden drops of sunlight on water eerily.

"Excuse me, but I have to ask, what do you study?"

She barely glanced at me. "Phytomancy, if you must know."

"Really? That's fascinating."

"Really."

"Really." I smiled at her and fiddled with my earring. "The sky is pretty. Guess you enjoy the earth more, though?"

"Why?"

"Plant magic."

She turned to me, her eyes flashing brightly. "What's your specialty?"

"Astronomical Physiology, mainly relating to the stars." I smiled at her. "I get powerful at night."

"Wow. You must love the stars, then."

"Well, of course!" I grinned wider. "They're beautiful, and mysterious, and you don't always see them, so they're always special when they come out at night. Ever wonder why people wish upon stars?"

The corners of her mouth tilted upwards, ever so slightly. "Why?"

"Because they're powerful."

"Like you, I suppose?"

"Well, yes. Honestly, the sky is my favorite part of earth."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the sea. "I'm trying to focus."

I bowed lightly, another grin turning up my mouth. "Oh, of course."

I wasn't doing too badly, then, in the making friends column.

I moved back to my seat, clutching at railings as the sea lurched the boat back and forth, and relaxed again in the chair I'd claimed at the beginning of the voyage, watching the conversations and the silence happening across the boat as the sky darkened further and those beautiful stars rose.

I'd miss them most if I never saw the sky again.