The afternoon started to wind down on top of Mt. Sononcoly. At the base, more and more of the Shanli stood around as they awaited another tour through the caves in search of the wounded.

  Fewer people were brought out to be healed; thankfully for them, fewer corpses as well.

  Of the few black-nailed Sentar’i to be healed outside, all of them were tied up and sent away courtesy of the Cosondera.

  At the center of it all stood the man in charge of the attack, the red cloaked Deraviv, Axerick.

  He kept his head pointed up as his eyes canvassed the large height. What his eyes couldn’t see were events on top of the mountain and the unfolding battle therein.

  On the summit of Mt. Sononcoly stood the man in charge of the defense, the Black Nail leader, Tyru.

  His hand laid on a wall made of thin air before he turned his head to the blue cloaked opponent across from him.

  Ythan stared sternly at the old Sentar’i. His junior colleagues in black were still in the midst of recovering as they watched from the outside.

  For now, it seemed like the battle waged between Ythan and Tyru.

  “What drives you to action like this?” the Sentar’i asked. “Is it personal pride? Or perhaps it has something to do with your surname.”

  Ythan remained where he stood. Only his eyes made any movements.

  “We can’t choose the family we were born to, nor can we choose which duty to carry out. From the day we exist to the day we die, our surnames determine our destinies. The more renowned the surname, the greater the destiny.

  “Such a fate can consume a Sentar’i, to the point that it’s all they have in their lives. Is this the life you chose, or one that was thrust upon you, a consequence of your surname, your destiny?”

  Ythan only maneuvered around Tyru. The old Sentar’i took a few steps forward just to discover another transparent wall. He then placed his hand on that barrier next.

  “I accepted the destiny placed upon my surname. I accepted all of it, until it was taken from me. Taken from my family. Everything I’ve been doing has been for the sake of my surname, all for the goal of regaining what was taken from us.

  “As long as the Cosondera remain, my surname will always be synonymous with disgrace. That is what’s consumed me all these years. Once you’re gone, I can reclaim the destiny placed on my surname and its spot at the top.”

  “I don’t care about your surname nor your destiny,” Ythan responded. “I do this not because of some foolish family pride, but because that’s the job required of me, of us. Whatever becomes of my destiny, it’ll be because of my actions and my decisions, not my ancestors’.

  “At the end of the day, I manifest my own destiny. At the end of this day, yours will run its course.”

  Irritated by those words, Tyru charged ahead ready to reengage, but more walls hindered his progress.

  In fact, it seemed like everywhere the Sentar’i turned, another barrier was there to keep him in place. Meanwhile, Ythan moved wherever he pleased as he inched closer to his opponent.

  Tyru placed a hand on another wall and it became as clear as Ythan’s trap that he wound up boxed in by the transparent walls as if he were in some sort of maze.

  Ythan picked up a stone before he bashed it to pieces. A sharp tipped rock remained in his hand, he lightly tapped the point then firmly gripped the makeshift weapon.

  Despite his predicament, Tyru simply chuckled as he watched his enemy stroll closer.

  “Your spatial arts are impressive,” he stated. “It must take a lot of aura to build multiple [Airboxes] in such a way.”

  He glanced over at Conon and Onyl who could only stand and watch from afar.

  “And with enough space to keep your comrades out of the fray too, a lot of aura and concentration. ‘Such a valuable commodity, aura is’. I’m sure you’ve heard that too.

  “Tiny parts of power emitted as smoke. The source of strength for any Sentar’i. But what would happen if it wasn’t strong enough?”

  Smoke formed from head to toe around Tyru. Ythan stopped his trek as he watched more and more gather around the old Sentar’i.

  “What if all your concentration and aura were insufficient? The source of your strength undone by the source of your enemy’s?”

  In an instant, a large quantity of smoke rushed out of Tyru and traveled through the many invisible chambers of Ythan’s [Airbox].

  It was indeed a maze as smoke wrapped around many corners, none of which were close enough to the Neraviv.

  Ythan did step back however, uncertainty covered every part of his face. Eventually, smoke cleared out of the maze and Tyru had a better sense of the [Box’s] dimensions. He sensed his moment.

  “Behold! The extent of strength and aura!”

  Without a single step or flinch, Tyru unleashed a torrent of smoke and wind massive enough to break through the many invisible corridors.

  So much power burst out and with such rapidity, that Ythan had no time to respond.

  Conon and Onyl backed away quickly as they shielded their eyes. Shock kept Ythan still. For the first time, he appeared uneased.

  His opponent sported a confident smirk as wind cycled around his right arm. It moved with such force that it produced a loud continuous rumble.

  Finally, Ythan snapped out of his stupor and stuck his hands out. Blue circles appeared in the back of his palms, but Tyru zipped right up to the Neraviv. His arm roared as it wound up to strike.

  “Too late!” he yelled before he let out a devastating punch.

  The full extent of Tyru’s attack, the [Howling Wave], landed squarely on Ythan’s gut. A loud boom produced from the impact.

  Grass parted from the ground; rocks turned into pebbles. Ythan’s blue cloak tore at the hem, tattered by the sheer force of Tyru’s aura.

  Swiped off the height, Ythan bellowed in pain. His yelp faded in the distance as he and several rocks descended out of view.

  An eerie silence befell the field. Onyl and Conon watched in horror before they telepathically arrived at the same conclusion: they were on their own.

  Tyru turned to the two Tyrovivs. A huge smirk appeared on his face. Things appeared to take a turn for the worst.

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  The rest of the mountain trembled in an aftershock to the blast. Many rocks plummeted from their spots, but people weren’t exempt from gravity and its pull.

  Quin and Arthur tumbled out from a hole before they rolled down a slope to some outer field along the height.

  Both fighters rose up gingerly, they stumbled as they tried to find something to help them up. A few trees littered the area while shade covered the landscape.

  Other mountains took up Quin’s view as he reached his feet first. Disorientation gave way to determination when he rushed at his opponent.

  Just as Arthur nearly recovered, he was met with some haymakers. Quin swung furiously as left and right hooks bopped Arthur’s head every which way.

  Finally, Quin’s boot planted itself across Arthur’s face and the young Sentar’i flew to the ground.

  Even more out of it, Arthur teetered in his retreat. Quin took the moment to shake off his sore left arm when it dawned on him. Out in the open, his wind arts could roam free.

  Quin ran a few steps before his body twirled. Left foot on the ground, he spun out his right and a high breeze emerged.

  His [Swirl Kick] caught Arthur in the small of his back, and he let out a loud groan in his flight.

  A tree caught his fall as he bounced off the wood and landed on his back, all with a thud. Quin, eager to put this fight to rest, charged at his foe.

  Arthur rushed to his feet and braced for the coming attack. When Quin was close enough however, Arthur immediately ran up the tree next to him.

  By the time Quin reached the spot his opponent stood, Arthur flipped over the Tyroviv’s head.

  Quin felt a slap on both sides of his face before he felt the weight of his opponent behind him.

  Head yanked, Quin was dragged down and landed back-first on a pair of knees. Arthur used those same knees to launch the Cosondere into the air.

  Flung back, Quin rapidly flipped over several times as his body appeared on a collision course toward another tree. He never lost track of his senses.

  Out of a page from Onyl’s playbook. Quin spun back to the tree and landed on its trunk. Aura directed to his feet, he rebounded off the arbor at great speed.

  Arthur, who thought he created some separation never saw his opponent hurl himself back until Quin’s knee connected with his spine. In no time, Arthur was back on the ground.

  This was it. The type of advantage Quin had seen from his fellow colleagues time and time again, except he was the one in control.

  The improvised training done. The on the fly learning. It finally started to show. No longer was he new to the mechanics.

  As he watched Arthur slowly rise, a certain truth entered Quin’s mind. He had the upper hand, all thanks to the people who helped him get this far.

  It seemed like in true earnest, he finally started to perform like a Cosondere. A tinge of satisfaction flowed in his heart.

  “Noo!” yelled Arthur, perhaps he too caught wind of the momentum swing. “I refuse to yield to people like you!”

  “Do you seriously think you’re doing the right thing?” Quin asked.

  “Do you? At one point, you weren’t a cloak. You’re going to tell me you’ve seen nothing but good things the whole time?”

  “Trust me, I’m not going to tell you that the Cosondera are the best thing in the world. I’ve lived ten years in their backyard, I’ve seen all I needed to see.”

  “Then why are you siding with them?”

  “I’m supposed to side with you instead? Say what you want about them, but the Cosondera don’t go around killing innocent people or Yerps.”

  “So what, you think that means they care? They’ve never cared about anyone. Things are only fine when they have their way, when you’re out of their way.

  “You and your family could be minding your business, but end up in their way. You could show up to them begging for help pleading with your life, but you’re in their way.

  “Sentar’i or Yerp, if you don’t matter to them, then your matters won’t matter to them.”

  Quin displayed a puzzled look. “Are you trying to justify what you’ve done at Comi?”

  “I’m justifying my hate of the cloaks! You lot talk about doing this for peace, but it’s only the peace you want!

  “Things were supposed to be better when I stood out. When me and my brother were both Sentar’i. After the struggle we had going from place to place, it was supposed to be better. My brother taught me how to be a fighter. How to stand up for myself against other Sentar’i.

  “But life taught us both how heartless you are. How you take and take, to the point that we have to take. But we’re in the wrong. We tell you our problems and you dismiss us again and again.

  “Then you take again, eventually taking loved ones away if we piss you off enough. Arch Tyru is absolutely right when he says the real problems are you. We can never live the life we want as long as we’re in your way.

  “That’s why you all have to go. To get our way, we have to get you out of our way, period.”

  Up on his feet, smoke began to form around Arthur.

  His expression became more and more hostile as he gathered more aura. His arms formed an “x”, the back of his hands showed blue circles.

  Quin readied himself for his foe’s next move, when Arthur vanished in full view.

  Quin’s eyes zipped back and forth. He dragged his foot back slowly. He tried to sense any clue of Arthur’s presence. Then out of nowhere, multiple clues showed from three different sides.

  At once, Arthur appeared by each arm and in front of Quin. Unsure where to block, the Tyroviv was left wide open.

  A flurry of strikes connected one after the other. One to the temple. One to the kidney. One to the ear. One to the gut.

  As fierce as they were fast, the punches felt unceasing. Quin endeavored to turn this around.

  He jutted a jab to the air with hopes it catch its target. Instead, the target caught him.

  Arthur twisted Quin’s wrist and discomfort appeared all over his face. His free arm tried to release Arthur’s grip, but it was still too weak.

  Quin only opened his midsection to a strike, and Arthur rammed his knee through the sternum.

  The Tyroviv doubled over when his jaw was clocked back. Before he could even drop, Quin was bombarded by the multiple foes.

  Utterly pummeled, Quin’s body practically limped, attacked from different angles back to back.

  It ended with a wallop to both sides of his face. Brief but powerful, his knees buckled under his weight as he collapsed to the ground.

  Arthur quickly dropped as well. The circles on his hands disappeared as he desperately gasped for air. He seized as he wheezed and both fighters could only move at a crawl.

  Quin dragged himself through the grass to the rock wall. His view of the scene went in circles, his ears picked up the sound of his muffled breaths.

  Arthur’s breaths steadied as he rose up to a knee and watched Quin reach the wall.

  “I’ll make you disappear,” the Sentar’i said in a low voice. “Just like you made my brother disappear.”

  Arthur sprinted past Quin and up along the rock wall. Whatever his foe’s next move was, it gave Quin time to recover.

  The momentum he had earlier seemed to dissipate entirely. If things kept up, it won’t be the only thing to go away.

  As his senses settled back, Quin ruminated on everything he had been fighting for up to now.

  The perception of him among the Cosondera. His desire to dismantle the Sentar’i spirit. His yearning for better treatment of the Yerps. His efforts would have been in vain if it all ended now.

  He refused as he stood up along the wall. He had to be better, for the Yerps, for his dreams. It was time to do or die.

  “You cloaks took my life away, and now I’ll take yours!” Quin heard from above.

  Arthur jumped off from his height and descended toward his foe. The impacted trees beside him gave Quin a clue that he was about to be crushed under an [Airbox].

  Unaware of how large, Quin felt he had no chance to escape by foot. So he used the wind.

  Quin jumped off the ground then with both hands, blasted his [Gust attack] point blank at the wall.

  He darted like an arrow as he flew across the field. Arthur’s [Box] crashed against the ground with force. Quin’s foot barely avoided the crush.

  He landed on the grass with a slide and nearly rolled over. Across from him on top of flattened grass wobbled his foe. With Arthur’s miss, Quin had his chance to make his own final move.

  The Tyroviv got up and charged as much aura as a second could allow him. He took a deep breath as he used both hands to send out another large [Gust].

  Arthur, unable to react quickly took the full brunt of Quin’s wind arts. The force of the [Gust] not only shoved Arthur up to the rock wall, but also had him bounce off the stone barrier.

  Quin trampled the grass beneath him as he sprinted up to his still airborne foe. The two looked like they would collide with one another when Quin took another breath.

  Instantly, a whirlwind enveloped him as he brought out his [Iron Wind].

  Instead of Arthur bumping into him, the heavy draft Quin summoned bumped his opponent up in the air.

  Arthur flipped over as he reached his apex. Finally, Quin hopped back to catch his foe with one last attack.

  Quin rushed up to Arthur before he jumped off the ground and twirled his body in the air.

  With extra spins, Quin thrust out his right leg and sent out the most masterful [Swirl Kick] he could muster.

  A thick sheet of wind pounded Arthur’s face before he even landed. The vigor of Quin’s [Kick] stopped Arthur’s fall and the Sentar’i barreled back to the wall with a horizontal spin.

  Arthur’s head slammed into the solid rock with such a wham, it cracked. His body then plopped to the ground.

  Seconds went by without any movement by the Sentar’i. Quin panted as he dropped to a knee. He watched for any sort of trick. His breaths returned to normal as Arthur remained low.

  A calming breeze picked up across the field. As more time ticked away, the moment and feeling became obvious.

  After his efforts and all that he’s learned, it all culminated with this, a hard fought battle that concluded in triumph.

  A smile on his face, Quin closed his eyes and raised both arms in the air. He felt the wind pick up as it grazed his body. The cool soothing air congratulated him on his victory.