Evora, daughter of Antimony

(USED THIRTEEN)

The area was lush with vegetation, a welcoming sight for Evora's mind. She felt calm, at peace as she looked with distant fascination between both people and ground, the shrubbery slowly snaking its way over her feet until she kicked it away with a shrug. Plenty of magic, her focus already drawing on her mind energy. She smiled. Smiling was not a thing to be had in such a game of life and death such as this, yet she only cared of the plants, and of perhaps her new shadow, Elsinor. They were quite nice.

And then they ran and blood flowed and lyk cri oh god y must time hate me my skills r slipping away

anYWAYs so lyk elsinor used their mighty might hands and stuff and they lyk killed lyk her own kind her name was lyk weird idek lololol jk her name wasnt that weird but who can keep track she was weak easy to take down amiright god

#crieverytim 

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Althia, daughter of Galena

My first thought is the easy way out - use my own blood, and it''' work, right? Blood is blood, and the markings look ominous enough for me to want to try it.

I hear a scream, though, from someone around me, and as I and half the other mages watch, a boy frantically scrubs at the markings with the blood streaming from a cut on his wrist - with a start, I realize that he clawed his way to the veins with his own fingernails.

The scarlet blood, nearly the same color as his dyed hair, flows freely, and it's not longer before another tribute attacks him, pawing at the cut on his wrist. One more follows, and the three are wrestling in the sand, and I realize there has to be another answer.

One punch from a dark-skinned Aavayoh boy and more blood spills, coating the upper lip of a girl I realize I know - Sierra looks different with her face streaked in crimson.

I back away from the battle quickly, and bump into a willowy girl who, despite her appearance, looks more than ready to kill me if it'll save her life, and strangely, I almost feel the same.

Clutching at my necklace, I duck from her reaching arms and start running, back into the battle that has quickly arisen - two girls claw at each other's eyes, while the boy who first bled lies on the ground, motionless.

I kneel, hoping to heal him, but it's useless, and I remember that I shouldn't want to heal others, I should want to save myself. The blood that is still dripping down the boy's arm, though, isn't enough for me to use, because when I rub it onto the ominous black markings twisting up and down my arms, they barely fade. His blood is not enough.

The smell is enough to make me sick, even though I've dealt with worse before when learning how to heal - at least everyone here still has their intestines inside their body.

So far.

Branwen approaches me, her temple bleeding, runny red matting her eyebrow and her hairs to her forehead. "Althia," she gasps, and I notice that her hand is stained the same red - it's covering a hole in her stomach. "Can you heal me?"

I almost say yes, but as Branwen is tackled by another tribute, seeking her blood, it's too late, and I have to run from the scene.

The sand would almost be pretty if it weren't covered in blood, if mages weren't using their powers against one another too soon, tan sand clumping together under the droplets that hit it. A few tributes are kneeling, scraping nearly all the skin off their hands with the rough sand as they try to rub away the markings that condemn them.

Only a few succeed. The rest only manage to bring blood, and then the attackers come, the glistening red their dog whistle.

The dark-haired Aavayoh boy is fighting another tribute, his markings all but faded, and as I watch, the drops of blood that land on his hands as he pummels the smaller into submission sink into the pores, then erase the blackness. With a sickening grin that's offset by the redness of his lips, he vanishes into the jungle, which is quickly darkening. My stomach sinks almost as far as the sun has in the maybe hour I've been out here. It feels like forever - and then, it feels like barely a minute has passed.

I kneel next to the girl the Aavayoh was beating, and the broken nose and busted lip can't disguise her curly brown hair, and the innocence in her wide gray eyes. She can barely smile at me.

"Excuse me, darling," I whisper, quiet as I can, "but I'm a healer. If you'd let me have some of this, I can help you."

She smiles, surprisingly, and murmurs back, "I can do you a favor too. Water will clean this off of me, and then I can wash your hands in it."

The thought of washing my hands in water fouled by her blood makes me sicker than the sea voyage did, but I nod and touch my necklace slightly. Before beginning, I whisper, "What's your name?"

"Eira," she murmurs, then lets her eyes flutter shut as I set to work. We're near enough to the jungle line that no one bothers us, and by the time I finish, healing her wounds as best as I can, the sun has nearly set, and everyone who could leave is gone.

"Quickly, please," I beg, and Eira sits up. Water begins to flow uphill, a sight that amazes me, but what amazes me more is when she uses the salt water to scrub the drying blood off her face, then hold out the murky pink liquid in a ball.

"Put your hands inside of it," she urges, smiling. I do, and can nearly feel the water surrounding it cleanse my hands. She giggles when my face lightens, and my hands do as well, for when I remove them, the black markings are gone.

She walks over to a dark haired girl splayed on the sand, and with a tug on my magic, I can tell she's beyond healing. "Do you think she's mind?" she asks softly, and I shake my head.

Eira does the same to her own hands, and the markings disappear. Letting the water drop and soak into the already-bloodstained sand, she smiles at me from where she stands next to a dead body, a strange picture - the tiny girl, no older than fourteen, fifteen, at the most, with the blood-stained shore. "Thank you," she calls, "for helping me."

The sun is almost gone, and I shrug, unable to make out Eira's features anymore. "It was my pleasure."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to. Helping people is what I do."

Eira lets another smile go, then turns, searching the horizon. "You should find a place to sleep," I suggest, unable to let the girl go without a bit of mothering.

She nods. "I'll see you, I suppose."

"Let's hope it's not at the end of these."

Two forced smiles from the two of us, then Eira walks into the darkness, and I go the opposite direction, trying to decide if anything on this island is safe.

From what I've been through so far, nothing is.

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Sierra, daughter of Maldiva

 Sierra fell onto the ground as the ship suddenly came into a halt. The apple she was holding tumbled out of her hand, as she felt it slide off her hand before she went on all fours on the cold wooden planks.

Migraine suddenly entered her system ; she clutched her head, hoping the pain would subside. But it only made matters worse. She was lying on the ground now. Did she even hit her head? Or was it only migraine and anxiety she earned the night before?

She had only a few moments to think when two magi dressed in black robes suddenly half-lifted her. She tried to scream and wriggle out of the strong grip of the two muscled men, but all in vain. This was it. The trials are going to start, and she was about to start it with a painful head.

The two men mercilessly dragged her until she was outside, sun rays stinging her dry face. They dropped Sierra on the scorching sand, in which Sierra shrieked in pain.

But that didn't take enough to snap Sierra back into reality. She only bounced back when she saw a black mark the size of a cantaloupe glossed on her hand. She stood up as fast as lightning.

She almost screamed; her head spun in all directions, panic evident. She knew this curse far too well. Former Lirima leader was inflicted by this curse at dusk, and it was only a matter of time before Uryel went down to finish him. and by now there is no known cure unless game maker tampered. It dawned on her that she was going to die like this. Death by Uryel.

She desperately scrambled throughout the bodies of her fellow magi, hoping to find out the person who casted the curse on her. A closer look told Sierra that everybody was inflicted by the alleged curse, and to that it was impossible for Sierra that the culprit was within them. A magi far wiser and stronger could have only summoned that curse on twenty-four people at the same time.

"Hey, you! Soon-to-be dead people!" a male voice shouted as the lot of magi cocked their heads into the direction of the offender. From there the party saw a small crystal panel lodged against a sand dune, and inside the sand dune were the Guardians. The voice must have came from the red-haired man, as his sassy voice fitted with his outrageous hair. She couldn't remember his name, but she know he's from Craorag. They've studied about him in school.

"Welcome to our little home, everyone!" He exclaimed, beaming gleefully. "I think you're going to like it in here. We have so many plans for you all. . . The first of which starts now."

Sierra shuddered on the spot.

Most of you have probably noticed the black markings that appeared on your hands a moment ago. I am pleased to inform you that this is the start of the first trial- specifically, the Trial of Sorcery. See, if those markings are the sigil of an extremely powerful spirit named Uryel-Deathbringer. It's his prerogative to reap the souls of everyone who bears those symbols. Trust me when I say you can't fight him off. Better magi than you have tried. hey're dead now." He continued. Sierra's stomach started to churn, panic starting to raise once again.

"However, you have some options. Uryel can't stand sunlight- he has to wait until nightfall to take your lives. In addition, I've left you a way to break the curse- scrub the stain with enough blood from another person, and it'll come right off. Super simple, right?"

The magi were dead silent. Some were very confident, smirking at the terrified expressions of the other tributes. A girl from Lirima she doesn't recognize smirked. Sierra realized that if she keeps wearing the terrified expression on her face, she would be a target. So she tensed into an expressionless face.

"Get enough blood. Get it fast. And don't forget to have fun! After the first kill, it all gets so much easier." And then they disappeared. The crystal pane was inhabiting none now.

And then Sierra ran opposite from the bloodbath. Unfortunately, a guy named Enzo of Siyamak (she saw his name tag in his shirt) chanted a spell behind Sierra, to which she heard the whirring of knives from behind her. She quickly changed her pace of running, just in time for the first knife to hit a nearby tree.

Sierra ran faster, catching a silent curse from Enzo before she was too far away. He attempted to attack Sierra again, this time with a fire projectile. It was an utterly stupid move. It would only be a waste of magic power if it had hit her; It would only form a halo shaped burn on her back, and then he would have to finish Sierra officially, but in this case, Sierra was able dodge Enzo's attacks once again. Enzo curset yet again, but Sierra was still in range. "Mind-coniungere!" A shot of red-black light shot out of Enzo's string. There is no doubting about it now. This psychomancy of Enzo's just too strong. It hit Sierra on her back. making her fall face first in the hot sand.

White hot pain quickly flooded Sierra's back, as Enzo was manipulating her. What psychomancy does is it occults communications between souls or with spirits. So in Sierra's body is completely manipulated by Enzo's mind magic this second. Sierra twitched and twitched until Enzo finally reached her, a smile curled up in his face. "Well, well. Thank you for giving your blood to me, madam." He said with a seductive purr. Sierra's eyes were bulging, as she screamed, holding on for dear life, Enzo's focus, a string tied in his right hand, waved. And Sierra was thrown into the water.

She was still at the shallow part, still twitching and screaming at the pain housing inside of her.

Miraculously, another mage was rather kind enough to go after him. Enzo valiantly turned his string away from the half-drowning Sierra, which resulted Sierra to break free from the curse.

Looking at who distracted Enzo - a girl from Lirima - the two fought. With the girl using zoomancy and Enzo still using psychomancy. things have turned when the Liriman girl controlled a bird straight into Enzo's eye, but Enzo quickly controlled the bird with more mind hocus pocus, leading the bird now flying towards the Liriman girl. The girl quickly fled, knowing that a million doubloons could be in line if she loses.

Knowing that this could be Sierra's only chance to finally damage and kill Enzo, she brought out her ever lastingly gleaming and shining topaz. She pointed it valiantly at Enzo, who was now weak after all of his magic drained out from the past spells, was catching his breath on the ground. It was Sierra's turn.

With a sympathetic voice, Sierra sympathetically chanted : "Leaf-rasorium." And leaves sharp as razors shot out of the topaz. She may not have the best ability in terms of phytomancy, but it was her next most skilled talent when it comes to being a mage. It hit Enzo in the waist, where blood is sure to spill out. Enzo shrieked and cursed in pain and agony, whilst Sierra was running toward him, out of the water.

"You piece of blonde twat!" He muttered offensively. He once again shrieked in pain when Sierra pressed her black mark on Enzo's waist, leading Enzo to cast bloodshot eyes on her. "My family will never forgive you for this. Alas!" He said accepting his fate while lying on the ground. Sierra's eyes began to sting, but she has to do this for her family, and of course her life. "Then I can end your suffering right now. Globus Ignis." And a fireball collapsed into Enzo's body.

Sierra can't even look back. After her spell, she silently said sorry to Enzo and ran away to hide in the forest, tears evident in her eyes.

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Roux, daughter of Calema

DID NOT HAND IN

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Branwen, daughter of Yrlissa

The island the 'arena' was on was very small, covered with a very green jungle. I was pleased with that; it meant that I would have an advantage in this incredibly gruesome game. The isle hummed with energy, I could feel the vegetation ready to be brought to life with a little encouragement from me. If only I wasn't here to die, I would have enjoyed my time on the island very much.

The long journey had made everyone on the boat a little bit weary of each other, especially since one mage had already lost her life.

A tingling sensation on my hands suddenly caught my attention. Rolling up my sleeve, I glanced at the black marks that appeared on them. I frantically tried to rub them off, but to no avail. Fear overwhelmed me—if there was one thing I learned at the academy it was that black marks never were a good sign.

"Hey you! Soon-to-be-dead people!"

I turned my attention to a crystal panel on the ground, where the face of the guardian TIg appeared.

"Welcome to our little home, everyone!" I couldn't understand why TIg was so excited, unless people from Craorag were naturally cruel. Maybe that was just him, some of the magi here looked very pleasant. "I think you're going to like it here. We have so many plans for you all...the first of which starts now." I bet it had something to do with the marks.

"Most of you have probably noticed the black markings that appeared on your hands a minute ago. I am pleased to inform you that this is the start of the first trial—specifically the Trial of Sorcery. See, those markings are the sigil of an extremely powerful spirit named Uryel—Deathbringer. It's his prerogative to reap the souls of everyone who bears those symbols. Trust me when I say you can't fight him off. Better magi than you have tried. They're dead now." What a lovely thought.

"However, you have some options. Uryel can't stand sunlight—he has to wait until nightfall to take your lives. In addition, I've left you a way to break the curse—scrub the stain with enough blood from another person and it'll come right off. Super simple, right?"

Seconds after the words were spoken, the satchel I had been carrying vanished, leaving me with only my focus and the clothes on my back.

Despair coursed through my body as I glanced around at my fellow magi. They too looked around, studying the faces of every mage, unsure whether they should make the first move. Silence was the only thing I could here. Every mage all had one feeling most prevalent on their face: fear.

I felt sick, how could I kill one of them? How could I live with the guilt that I had taken their life away, even if it was for such a short period of time? They had every much a right to live as I did, it wasn't fair. On top of that, the idea of washing my arm with blood utterly repulsed me.

"Get enough blood. Get it fast. And don't forget to have fun! After the first kill, it all gets so much easier." With that the image vanished.

It was only when a dark haired boy with equally dark eyes turned towards me that I realized I had to do something. He smiled wickedly as his body morphed, twisting and turning and bulging into a monstrous wolf. The sight was sickening. Mathias was a large man to begin with and that equated to an equally large mutt.

The grin Mathias had on his face when he turned translated into a snarl on the dog's muzzle. A low growl reverberated in his throat as he slowly moved towards me.

All around, I could hear the screams and cries of others as friend turned on friend in a desperate attempt to save themselves from the wretched curse.

I backed away from Mathias, slowly and carefully, watching as he followed, crouched down and ready to lunge. I was scared—I didn't want to die yet. "Please don't do this, I don't want to hurt you." The wolf made a noise that almost resembled a laugh, as though he found the thought appalling that 'little Branwen' could do any harm to him.

I fingered the vial with my focus on it, breathing deeply and slowly. I briefly closed my eyes, sensing the ground underneath me. I was searching, searching for something that could save my life and prevent Mathias from losing his. There wasn't much vegetation here, as sand wasn't a big favorite of plant life, but I had to try.

I opened my eyes in time to see the dog pounce—and giant roots erupting from the ground. Rocks and dirt cascaded down from the roots as they twisted themselves into a cage around the shape shifter. Mathias howled in protest, running himself into the walls of his prison again and again. The roots gathered themselves at the top, twisting into a roof—there was no escaping my creation.

I peered through a crack at the wolf—now turned into a man. "You want to let me out?"

"Not really, no." I was sure he could turn himself into a mouse or a fly and leave if he wanted to, but I wasn't going to suggest that. At least right now he was kind of shocked at my display and thrown off his game.

"You're leaving me as live bait." He glared, his cruel eyes staring daggers into me.

I shook my head and sighed, "I am not. But if you are worried about being killed you should have thought about that before trying to kill me." I turned around, as shouts and cries and magic echoed through the air. I needed to leave the area before the deaths became any higher. "If you happen to not find your own way out of that by an hour before sun down, I might release you. Have fun."

I had only moved a few steps before Arian, son of Eydis ran into me, knocking me to the ground and pushing the wind from my lungs. I lay there for a minute, the pain in my chest and lack of air preventing me from moving anywhere. I stared at the Arian, watching as he fiddled with a vial full a red liquid in it.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this Branwen. You seem like a very nice person." His attention turned to summoning spirits. The air chilled, until every breath taken froze in the air before dissipating. Vague shapes appeared on the sand, inching towards me and slicing at my body. I couldn't go down like this.

As my chest recovered, I stood up, speaking very firmly. "Arian, that's your name right? Why do you have to take another life when there are so many dead already?" I motioned to the bodies that littered the beach, the blood flowing like rivers into the vast ocean. Some were so disfigured that I couldn't see what they once looked like. I just wanted to use that blood and be done with this awful scene. A few magi were battling fiercely in the distance, but most had moved away.

"That's just the thing! You almost didn't even know who I was. I'm tired of it! The people of Lirima think of men as second class, the filth of the earth! We are just as good as you women are."

Getting Ari to start on a rant worked in my favor, he lost his focus on summoning awful spirits. As I moved towards him, holding my hands out in a submissive gesture, I stopped short. The area I stood on coursed with power, vibrating and humming. I had stumbled on a hot spot. Immediately, I felt for a vine that I felt growing on the edge of beach. I tugged it forward, willing it to wrap itself around Ari as I spoke.

"I know Ari, I know. But just because some people think that doesn't mean all people do. I believe that you have just as much talent as the mage, so why take your anger out on me?"

"I want my revenge, and if I take out a daughter of Lirima, everyone will know my name!" As he finished speaking, the vine pulled itself tight. Arian gasped, his eye bulging. "What...what?"

It was only when the blood started pouring out of his body in streams of crimson that I realized I had lost control of my powers. The vine stabbed and squeezed Arian like some sort of a pin cushion. I poured energy into my focus, pleading the vine to stop. I didn't want to kill anyone. I couldn't kill anyone. My efforts only seemed to make the blood flow faster. "I'm so sorry Ari! I can't stop it! I can't control the vine!"

Ari only groaned, his body becoming limp and finally, after an agonizing minute, dropping to the ground.

"No!" I screamed as the vine slithered away. I ran over to the fallen mage, dropping to my knees and feeling his neck for a pulse. There was no beat. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Tears dripped down my face as I pulled his body close, hugging him to me, as though that would bring him back. "I didn't mean to."

The beach was now empty save for the fallen magi. As the blood from Arian washed over my hands, cleansing them from the marks, guilt washed through me. I was a murderer. I was an awful person. I should be dead.

Yet I was still alive.

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Arian, son of Eydis

ATTACKED BY RABID HAMSTER

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Lucia of Argi

When the Guardians said that today would probably be the most interesting day of the Trials, I most certainly didn't realize just how interesting it would be, because honestly, who could expect that interesting meant getting the Uryel curse. Getting the Uryel curse most definitely was not on my bucket list, but neither was getting up at 6:00 this morning. I had to work with what I was given.

Immediately following our 6:00 wake-up, we were lead outside and instructed about our curse and what was to be the cure. Everything went silent, and no one moved. As everyone slowly began to understand when the Guardians meant, chaos began and the first drops of blood began to fall upon the ground, dying the green grass a dark crimson. Mages were casting spells as fast as they could without tiring themselves, and others had resulted to simple brute force to get the blood. Foci were strewn across the ground, some lost in the opening minutes of the battle, others shed out of fear they would be a hinderance. Though, this was not the time to lose your focus.

Already one of the girls, the one who was so kind to me yesterday, is splayed out on the ground, blood dripping from a head wound. Her amber eyes lost the flicker they seemed to have yesterday, and were dull and lifeless. Magi flock around her like birds, harshly scrubbing at the black dots on their hands using the blood gushing from her head.

I could only stare in horror as the group crowded around her body turned on each other when they realized that her blood couldn't be split between the three of them. Soon her body was accompanied by two more, leaving the third person practically bathing in the blood. It was disgusting.

Everyone was acting so much like animals, that I couldn't stand to be anywhere near any of them, so I ran off into the protection of the trees. Maybe later I would be able to dart out and steal some blood off the ground, but for now my goal was to survive.

I stopped running to collect my breath, and sat upon a tree stump. My hand brushed against so ivy growing on the side of the wood. I inhaled sharply. Cantor's Ivy.

I pulled at the ivy, putting a single leaf in my mouth and stuffing the rest into a pocket on my pants. The leaf of Cantor's Ivy replenished my energy, and sent a euphoria through my muscles, but not messing with my mind.

If there's Cantor's Ivy here, who knows what other plants are here.

I dropped closer to the ground, and smelled a small plant, before adding that to my pocket. I found more plants, some of which could be used for a protection potion and began to tear the leaves off.

Suddenly, footsteps crunched through the underbrush to my right, and I froze, dropping all the plants I had collected. A protection potion couldn't help me now. Two girls rounded the corner, quietly chatting. The froze when they saw me, and looked at each other. One of the girls, a Craorag without red hair, smiled deviously, and the wind began to spiral faster. My hair began to whip into my face, obscuring my vision, and I had to focus most on my energy on not falling over, because falling would surely mean death.

The other girl, from Aavayoh, dug a sword into the ground, waiting for me to be killed.

Acting on instinct and adrenalin, I grabbed a piece of bark from the nearest tree and dug it into my skin, causing blood to pool. Then, I rubbed the blood onto the bark, biting back a scream as the wood dug painfully into my flesh. Using quick and precise movements, I brought the tree to life.

Hopefully this won't be illegal.

Hello tree, I'd introduce myself, but I don't have time. Get rid of the girl in front of me. Preferably drawing blood in the process. Thanks. Oh and get the other girl away too. I don't want to die.

Instantly the rush of fatigue following the animation of a large and already living object hit me and I doubled over. The tree swung its large branches, successfully knocking out the oncoming girl, and the winds died down immediately. The tree froze in its position, all the power drained out of it.

The other girl laughed, either because there was fresh blood or because I was weak and drained. But, instead of coming after me, she walks away, still chuckling under her breath and swinging her sword from side to side.

Maybe she's waiting until I'm passed out.

I knelt over the now dead body of the girl I killed; I didn't even know her name. Scooping a puddle of the still warm blood into my hands, I smother the black spot with the blood. Much like the animation process, the blood first discolored my skin before seeping into my pores, taking the black spot with it. Exhaustion swept over me, as if I had been the one to cast the curse, and not one of the Guardians, and I collapsed onto the dirt in a sweaty heap. I barely had any energy left, but I needed to create a form of protection, just in case the Aavayohan girl came back.

Dirt on the ground, Air in the sky,

Head to my charm,

Grasses beneath my feet, every creature nearby,

Protect me from all harm.

Immediately after the last symbol, my hand fell to the ground and my vision subsided with the fading daylight. One could only hope that I would wake up with the morning sun, and live to complete the other items on my bucket list.

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

Fabionna of Elita

By nightfall, I have to kill... Or I get killed...

Why did I ever sign up for this? I knew I was going to have to kill soon enough, if I wanted to survive. Yet this is literally forcing bloodshed. What is wrong with these people?

I stare at the intricate design now imprinted on my left palm. Wow, how guileful of them, a design of a vine... I doubt that was on purpose, yet it's such a devious coincidence.

My senses are on high alert, yet this girl? Boy? I'll just say it, it sneaked up to me. It seemed to appear out of the shadows. In panic, I quickly manipulate the grass between it and me growing it into a wall to stop it for a while, and I take off running. Manipulating grass is one of the easiest spells in Phytomancy, so no special ingredients are needed.

Running into the woods, I distance myself from where we arrived, using the same manipulating spell to cover up my tracks. Once I'm deep enough within the forest, I slow myself down for a rest. Looking back towards the direction I just came in, I'm shocked. The grass I manipulated has grown sky high, yet it didn't even take me that much magical energy! Come to think of it, casting the spell did seem kind of effortless... The magical energy must be very strong on this island! In school, the teachers told us, wherever there is strong magical energy, spells will be easier to cast, but very hard to control... That must be what happened there!

A tiger appears between several trees, wow my senses are getting weak. It doesn't really seem to want to kill me, but I quickly retract a few steps away from it. All the while scanning the the forest floor for some flowers for casting a protection spell, just in case.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to me, zoomancy... The tiger seems to read my mind, and starts walking to me menacingly. I back away from it slowly, wanting absolutely nothing to do with it. I trip over something, thinking to myself, of all things, a tiger is going to end me, not even this stupid Uryel curse. Yet the tiger seems to not care about me at all, I look in the direction I was just standing in, a majestic deer was standing right behind me the whole time. I send the deer on its way, adding a little bit of my power to it so it can outrun the tiger.

Dusting myself off, I look down at what I tripped over. Oh! It's exactly what I needed for a protection spell, a Salsify root. Not that I need it anymore, but I dig it out and put it into my pocket, just in case.

I continue walking through the forest, not really knowing what to do... I decide, I'm going to not let anyone get blood from me, but I'm not going to go on the hunt for blood either. If I meet someone in here, I'll obviously try to get enough blood, but if I don't meet someone here, well Uryel will have me to feast on tonight.

I walk around the forest, just gathering flowers, roots and vines for different spells. As I do so, I find myself in an open clearing. A field of joy, a field where I can feel at home.

Laying here, the deer suddenly bursts through the forest. Even though I am shocked, I'm glad to see, it again. That means the tiger didn't get it. I get to my feet, slowly petting the deer. These are the times I kinda wish I had zoomancy, so that I could actually talk to these beasts of nature.

A scuttle from behind the deer panics me. I quickly pull out the Salsify root, one hand on my vine which is tied in my hair. I cast my protection spell, "Naturæ na süm protéctirer nach dorir!" Careful with the different syllables. Quickly a tangle of vines grow from the ground, surrounding me in a cocoon. Yet it keeps on growing, wider and wider, further and further away from me.

A yelp from outside reminds me of the deer... Oh no, the deer! I quickly move the vines away, letting them to return to there home in the earth. In the deer's position, lays a handsome boy, Mathias. With blood pooling out of his chest, what happened!?

Seeing as his blood is flowing freely, I quickly wipe my palm with his blood. The stench almost making me sick... I feel gross, and there are still sticky stains of blood on my palms. Yet the black marking has turned red, almost as if fire, like it's going to consume me.

I lay underneath the falling sun, the sky is lit up with blues, oranges, reds and purples. It's beautiful, yet it reminds me of blood, of my sin. I curl myself up into a ball, a ball of shame, wondering what really happened back there... Mathias... Oh! Shape shifting...

The sky seems to darken at my thought, and if Uryel is not coming for me, this fire will get me soon enough.

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

Alegria of Eerie

My ears have excluded all sound except for the loud beating of my heart. I've never felt such a thing before. Was it excitement? Was it anxiety? Was it fear? It feels as though all the preparations I've been practicing all this time exploded into nothing but a faded memory.

I'm too thrilled to think more rationally.

Everyone's been itching to run away after having Elswyth take care of our belongings. I'm glad I don't get too attached with anything, but it still feels wrong to have something taken away from me. As soon as I stepped out onto land just a few moments ago, I went into someone's mind and tried to focus on his thinking instead on having to endure with mine, which was hopeless.

I've failed to reach someone who's still sane, though.

It's too soon when my ears have gotten used to the thumps of my chest. All I hear now are gentle crashes of the waves against the sandy shoreline, and the whistle of the wind weaving through these thick, otherworldly creatures of nature. Elswyth made us walk obediently into the heart of this forest, and soon enough we've circled around an enormous tree.

It's just there. The way we're together but not hand in hand makes the motive of this so clear to me.

We're here to draw blood.

As if I've not realized so many things prior to this moment, a searing pain starts spreading across the length of my arm. Smothered across as if in black ink is an image of a skull, and I feel the sealed power moving within me. It's another thing I have to decipher before it's too late.

"It's the mark of death." We all whip our heads into Elswyth's direction. "You can avoid its occurrence by smearing it with someone's blood."

Blood.

"By your own doing."

Mama.

". . . May the odds be ever in your favour."

You're sending me in there to kill.

There's that pause where my heart fails to make a beat . . . just before cries of anguish start filling the air.

Someone starts running to the opposite direction. I couldn't think properly. The beating hurts my chest and clouds my senses, but even through them I manage to come behind the other mage. Even through all the chaos I've even managed to control my feet and run.

I'm breathing too heavily. He's beginning to slow his steps, and he's wrong to let his guard down.

I could see what he's thinking . . . It's not far from the others' corrupted views. It's not far from mine.

I close my eyes and start to penetrate his mind and destroy it with his own fears . . . but I too have let my guard down.

"Are you stupid?" He's that shamed one from Craorag. He steps on my stomach hard and I wince. I grit my teeth and look him in the eye, but he still continues to talk. "You chose the wrong enemy."

With the strength I still have I push a kick to his legs. He stumbles slightly, and I take the chance to introduce pain to his brain and let him drop to the ground finally. Plants start to wrap around my ankles but he's weak. He's weak. He continues to scream as he tries to take hold of his head.

I hope you scream louder.

He does.

His chest is rising and then dropping in abnormal rhythm . . . And I know I never wanted to see someone dying . . . But I've never seen myself in that position either.

I reach for a rock. It isn't long when its dark surface is coated in red.

Eira of Nessus

DID NOT HAND IN

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

Anahid of Jaidev

Honestly, I am starting to really tire of the vow of silence. Mother insisted that I take it, one of her clever ideas of seamlessly sneaking me into Jaidev society after my father's disappearance, but I don't see the importance of her doings anymore. Obviously, the Guardians are well aware of my Necromancy; why else would they have chosen me out of thousands of applicable Vasileians?

It is at this moment, my hands transforming into endless shapes as I desperately try to communicate with the boy in front of me, that I broke my sacred vow. As soon as I did, I felt my Vasiliean pride claw its way out of me, but that might have been my voice. Luckily I haven't forgotten how to form my tongue to speak legible Vasiliean; it's the throat part that I struggle with.

"I...I need your blood."

From the look of pale horror on his face, I'm guessing he didn't expect to hear that. Luckily for us, I dabbled in the Dark Arts. This spell wasn't immediately dangerous, but as soon as the sun sank beneath the cresting waves, it would be. Uryel-Deathbringer never showed his face in daylight. There was a rumor he was so utterly grotesque that a mere touch of light could turn him to dust.

The sun was hanging dangerously low, the sky a mosaic of colors ranging from reds to yellows and everything in between. Back in Jaidev, we cherished moments of peace. The world showed its true wonders twice a day. Once in the morning and once in the evening: Sunrise and sunset. On a normal day, I would be sitting on top of my roof, marveling at the unique sight before me. However, this was the Island of the Guardians. Nothing of the sort would be happening under their watchful eye.

The boy was twitching. He eyed me with a nasty glare and I immediately knew I couldn't rely on his compliance. Whether he liked it or not, I was getting his blood.

"Come here boy." I slipped a hand into my back pocket and pulled out my obsidian ring. I couldn't risk anyone seeing it until now.

His eyes almost popped out of his skull when they laid eyes on it. Obviously, he had made the connection.

"Necromancer!" He screamed, frantically searching for any sign of life. "She's a Necromancer! Treason! Treason!"

Surprisingly, I wasn't shocked that the Guardians didn't kill me on the spot. Somehow, they had known and decided not to kill me yet. Yet, being the key word. The boy, unfortunately was out of luck.

"I'm extremely sorry about this. You see, I'm a survivor. This is what I do best."

My ring hummed as I focused my energy on it. Smoky tendrils rose out of the glittering jewel, reaching like hands towards the boy. Before I could even blink, he was surrounded in a veil of darkness. I couldn't see him for a few moments, but I heard his body slam against the sand.

A stream of blood poured out of his nose and I smiled.

The black marking easily faded away, but the blood refused to wash off my skin. Even after I rubbed my hands against the sand and swished them through the ocean waves, it was still there.

I suppose your decisions really do define you.

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

Enzo of Siyamak

(USED 13)