Tournament Final: Twilight's Star

[Hera Ledro]

Really sorry about the delay. My e-net's been acting screwy these last few days, so ALL of my work on this battle has gone to hell. I had to start it all from scratch.

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Combatants - Jacob Wylliam King and Wylliam Morgan (Ghandi vs. professor13)

Eternal night. Endless day. Infinite darkness and ceaseless light. It was the paradox of twilight.

The World That Never Was had remained as it first was: that of the meeting of two opposites. It had not changed since the defeat of Xemnas. No decay, no growth, just eternal existence. It was, after all, nothing.

But nothing would play host to the final battle, the battle that would decide the hero who would lead the universe to salvation or demise. The hero who would succeed or fail in their task, and the fallen who would have the honour of falling to such a power.

The white top of the castle had, in some way, returned to its former self. Castle Oblivion, though it was assumed destroyed with Xemnas, somehow remained. Whether the work of a god or a miracle of nothing, it was as it was. The swirly, black patterns stood out, defiant on the silvery metal of the castle. The walls rose but a few feet off the ground, and sloped downwards into the eternity of twilight nothingess. Even death did not come here, for there was no life for it to take.

A bright white flash erupted above the castle, and two figures were sent sprawling onto the top. The first was a young man, wielding a spear of obvious power. The second was a boy, human in appearance but with the distinctive marks of a hybrid. Above the scene, the flash erupted again, and ten figures appeared, eight surrounding the perimeter while two stood in the center. Each one was garbed in a different colour from the rainbow, with two garbed in gold and silver, strength emanating from each of these mystics like a thousand suns. In the middle of them floated the ninth and tenth figures, female. The first was garbed in black, with ghostly pale skin, while the first was garbed in white, dark skinned and brilliant.

When they spoke, all of them spoke as one. "Warriors. The chosen ones have fallen, and so you must take up their mantle. We have lived on through the generations, never interfering in the tasks of mortals but always watching, always aware of their suffering."

"Now we are given the chance to amend that mistake. One of you shall leave here, and be returned to his people. The other shall ascend and become one of us, our link to the mortal world and our dark harbinger to the wicked. They shall be granted power beyond their imagining, but only the purest and most powerful may be given this honour."

"Fight on, warriors. You shall have no advantages or disadvantages here; it is a test of true strength, and you must fight on your own. Know that your powers have been restored, but you have been returned to your original states. One shall rise, one shall fall, but both will be honoured in the highest respect!" The flash brightened the sky again, and the only things left were Castle Oblivion, the warriors, and an ominous wind...

 

[professor13]

This is really getting old, Wylliam thought with a scowl as he righted himself from the ground, using his spear for stability. Once again, he found himself in an entirely new setting, this one more disturbing than the others combined. Just looking around was confusing. It reminded him of the parodoxical trip through the dimensions: totally moronic. Oxymoronic, to be precise.

In an attempt to shake the disturbing contradictions from his mind, he glanced around for things he was expecting. In a twisted irony, he both succeeded and failed in his endeavor: There was indeed robed figures and an opponent, but this time the floating wierdos were ten in number, while his apparent opponent was a kid. Definitely unexpected.

Suddenly, in chorus, the Rainbow Robes (as Wylliam dubbed them in his mind) began to speak, "Warriors. The chosen ones have fallen, and so you must take up their mantle. We have lived on through the generations, never interfering in the tasks of mortals but always watching, always aware of their suffering."

Wonder how long it took them to get this timing down? Wylliam thought with a smirk.

"Now we are given the chance to amend that mistake (Gee, thanks). One of you shall leave here, and be returned to his people (That should be the prize for winning). The other shall ascend and become one of us, our link to the mortal world and our dark harbinger to the wicked (There's no way in hell I'm wearing one of those robes). They shall be granted power beyond their imagining (maybe I was hasty about the robes), but only the purest and most powerful may be given this honour (Then hurry up and give it to me)."

After a few closing statements, the Rainbow Robes dissappeared in another flash of light, leaving the two opponents to do what they willed.

"Sounds like this is the big one," Wylliam said, flashing a grin at hie foe. "I think we both know what comes next, right kid?"

Without hesitation, Wylliam charged in at the boy. As he got closer, he shifted into a slide with his right leg extended, his left leg pulled beneath him, keeping him upright, and his spear pulled behind him from the left. At the end of his skid, he forcefully swung his spear clockwise before him, resulting in an attack with an arc of almost three quarters of a circle and a radius of five feet.

What will you do? Wylliam thought confidently, you could always leap, but what goes up must come down. How will you defeat my spear with just your bare hands?

 

[Hera Ledro]

((OOC: prof, you forgot that Jake's Soul Shredder hangs on his back ))

Jake roared and lunged for his opponent's latest apparition, but as he did, everything froze. In an instant, a flash resonated through the air and he was hurtled through space. He landed squarely on his back, slamming into a giant plate of metal.

He groaned and pushed himself up. "Little bastards," he muttered darkly. "Think they're being all high and mighty..." He allowed several curses to fly from his mouth as the flash erupted above him for a second time. Appearing from the flash were ten robed beings, two of which Jake had already seen. But before he could protest, the mystical beings spoke in unison. Jake promptly shut his mouth, narrowing his eyes in loathing but also keen to hear what these arrogant creatures had to say.

"Warriors. The chosen ones have fallen, and so you must take up their mantle. We have lived on through the generations, never interfering in the tasks of mortals but always watching, always aware of their suffering."

"Now we are given the chance to amend that mistake. One of you shall leave here, and be returned to his people. The other shall ascend and become one of us, our link to the mortal world and our dark harbinger to the wicked. They shall be granted power beyond their imagining, but only the purest and most powerful may be given this honour."

"Fight on, warriors. You shall have no advantages or disadvantages here; it is a test of true strength, and you must fight on your own. Know that your powers have been restored, but you have been returned to your original states. One shall rise, one shall fall, but both will be honoured in the highest respect!"

The flash erupted again, leaving Jake to ponder their words. His thoughts were interrupted by his opponent, who had apparently recovered as quickly as Jake had.

"Sounds like this is the big one," the foe said with a grin. "I think we both know what comes next, right kid?" Without warning, Jake's opponent dashed forward and sent an arc of energy towards him.

Jake responded instantly. He backpedalled a few steps and flipped onto the short wall of the structure he'd been flung on. He jumped forward with a roar, drawing the Soul Shredder zweihander from its place on his back as he flipped over the arc. Jake landed on his feet with a loud crash. Flames rose around him as he stood up, and when they dissipated he stood there in his Dragon form, the Soul Shredder glinting in his right claw.

He was nearly seven feet tall, with bright red scales along his body. Black patterns of scales ran along his arms, legs, tail, and back like a giant tattoo, and his black-limbed wings flared out defiantly. The gold-fronted membrane of the wings glinted in the unknown light that reflected off the metal structure, and his golden plate-like belly scales gleamed radiantly. His tail slammed on the ground defiantly, some of the spines clattering together ominously.

"Nice try, but I'm done fooling around," he called. "It's time I stopped showing off and started doing some real fighting." A grin crossed the Dragon's face as he spoke. "You think you're up to the challenge?"

Another plume of fire rose around the Dragon, but this time it was golden. It dissipated quickly, leaving him transformed. It was no great transformation, as the only physical change was the growth in muscle size, but the golden aura that pulsed around him was the true signal of his strength. With his power doubled, Jake would be a hard player to contend with.

It didn't help the foe that his personality had become far more ferocious, either.

With a feral snarl, Jake lunged at his foe. The tip of the Soul Shredder screeched as it scraped along the metal ground. With a whirl, Jake brought the Soul Shredder up and down, the metal whistling through the air for Jake's opponent's right left shoulder.

 

[professor13]

((OOC: Holy starvation, Ghandi! Let's see if I can explain this away...))

As his foe lunged over the spear's arc, Wylliam stared at the grand weapon in the boy's right hand.

How in the world did I miss that?! Wylliam thought stunned with shock. It was at this point that his brain realized the truly astonishing fact... HOW THE HELL IS HE HOLDING THAT IN ONE HAND?!

As Wylliam stood there, trying to overcome these unlikely phenomena, something occured that almost prompted him to leap off the tower, in the hopes that the afterlife was a bit more mundane: the young boy turned into a dragon.

Nope. Not gonna think about it, he promised internally, if the kid wants to be a dragon, let him be a dragon. Why do I need to wonder HOW THE HELL HE GREW RED SCALES, A TAIL, AND SOME DISTURBINGLY SHARP CLAWS?! ...crap, I thought about it.

It wasn't long before his foe (Henceforth, I dub thee Dragon Boy, Wylliam mused quietly) took the initiative and returned Wylliam's earlier charge, with some added intrest. It appeared to Wylliam that his foe had gone under a more subtle transformation after the mind-crushing one. His speed was incredible, but the same could be said of Wylliam's reflexes.

As the sword came screaming down at Wylliam's right shoulder, Wylliam dashed forward and slightly to the left, passing the dragon on its right. As he was beside him, Wylliam leapt a few feet from the ground in case his foe thought to use his tail to trip him.

Upon landing, Wylliam whipped around and grinned, though he was sweating a bit. His opponent was quite fierce, and holding a rather large sword with ease. Wylliam didn't want to test the validity of the Rainbow Robes' "rebirth."

"You may have the body of a dragon," Wylliam called with confidence, "but I have the eye of a wyvern!" He began to dash at his opponent while continuing, "Not to mention the mind of a cunning strategist..." Finally, while leaping high into the air, "... and the grace of an eagle, swooping down to snare its prey!"

After his nacissism monologue conclude, Wylliam began his descent, aiming the point of his violent downward thrust toward the crown of the dragon's skull.

 

[Hera Ledro]

"You may have the body of a dragon, but I have the eye of a wyvern!" Jake heard the call and whirled around, gripping his blade tightly as a low growl rose in his throat.

The spear-wielding warrior began a headlong dash towards Jake, and Jake tensed more, raising his hackles fiercely. The foe called forward, in continuation of his previous cry, "Not to mention the mind of a cunning strategist..." After a great jump into the air, he roared the final note of his monologue "...and the grace of an eagle, swooping down to snare its prey!"

The warrior lunged forward, ruthlessly thrusting the spear towards Jake's head.

Jake made his move like lightning. He rolled forward, folding his wings against his body. As he leapt up, he lunged forward, creating further distance between himself and his foe. With a whirl, he slashed through a metal spike that extended above the wall. The metal severed and began to fall down, but Jake grabbed the severed spike with his tail and flung it in the path of his descending foe with a great roar. The spike whistled furiously as it soared towards the descending spearman's head.

He wasted no further time. He brought his left hand into chamber position alongside his body, channeling his energy. He brought his hand to its opposite side and extended two fingers, slashing horizontally just below the spike. Even if his opponent managed to dodge the hurtling spire, there would be a slashing wave of energy to greet him.

"Some strategist," Jake muttered condescendingly.

 

[professor13]

"Oy! You moved!" Wylliam yelled from the air, apparently indignant that his foe did not allow him to thrust his spear through his opponent's skull. Merely seconds later, a metal spike was streaking through the air in his direction. Heh, no problem, I'll just...! His scheming was interrupted by the sight of an energy wave trailing below the flight path of the spike. Nevermind. This is a problem.

Thinking quickly, Wylliam grit his teeth and pulled his extended spear back over his head. When the spike reached his position, he slammed his spear downward onto the spike's top. Using the force of the blow to his advantage, Wylliam managed to delay his descent by forcing an upward inflection in his momentum. However, it was still no sure thing; the energy wave continued to get closer as Wylliam continued to descend.

The line between life and death is often very fine. For Wylliam, on this day, it had a breadth of mere millimeters. The energy wave passed just beneath the dragoon as it continued on its trajectory. Wylliam would have breathed a sigh of relief, but since he had put so much concentration into avoiding the energy wave, he had given no thought to his landing, resulting in his crashing down upon the castle roof. So much for an eagle's grace.

"Okay, Dragon Boy," Wylliam mumbled from his heaped position of the ground, "You're... not bad." Wylliam slowly got to his feet, shaking slightly from the force of the impact, yet grinning from the thrill of the match. After swinging his head as if to clear it of instability, he looked into the face of the dragon, smiling wildly, yet warmly.

The shock of the fall was already beginning to fade; a testament to Wylliam's experience in falling from great heights. Wylliam looked to the ground at the shattered spike between the two combatants. It had broken into four pieces of about equal size, perfect for projectiles.

The dragoon ran to the pieces of metal, shouting, "Counter Volley!" Upon reaching them, Wylliam drew back his spear like a golfer would a golf club, then swung forcefully, sending the first piece rocketing toward his opponent. In the same manner, he fired off the other three, then chased after them, aiming a flat, parallel spear thrust at his foe's golden underbelly.

 

[Hera Ledro]

"Dammit!" Jake cursed. He hadn't counted on his opponent being so resourceful, what with the obvious lack of modesty. Even so, it just made the battle more interesting; why wouldn't Jake want a challenge?

He allowed himself a quick breath and jumped forward, foot-claws lifting off the ground as he made a dash. He folded his wings around his body, using his energy to propel himself. A roll to the side was greeted by the whizzing of a metal shard nearby Jake's ear. He wasn't so quick for the third and fourth, though.

The second was easy enough to dodge, after rolling in the opposite direction, but Jake had underestimated the speed of the third and fourth shards, erroneously believing that their speed would be weakened from whatever drain the first two shards had on the warrior.

He'd never been more wrong.

Jake tilted his body upwards, refusing to panic, and unfurled his wings. The immense speed he'd been travelling at allowed for his wings to re-direct his path without much trouble. Even so, the metal shards raked across Jake's belly, spattering blood over the black-and-silver floor.

The Dragon child roared in pain and tilted to the left. He berated himself again, for he had failed to see the warrior coming behind the spikes, so focused was he on his flight. The spear point slashed deep into his right arm, and Jake flapped upwards with his wings reflexively, instinctively aiming to daze the foe by bludgeoning him with the limb of his right wing. In the air, Jake folded his wings around his body and did a flip, landing in a kneeling position facing the way he came. He unfurled his wings and let out a low growl, appalled that he was being so foolish today.

His arm and belly were dripping blood, despite the fact that the wounds were beginning to close from his regeneration process. Pain seared through his body, but he'd long since learned to repress the feeling. He chuckled wryly at the path of blood he'd left in his flight.

A dark laugh came from Jake's lips, changing into a laugh of happiness and exhileration as it continued. The thrill of the battle was finally beginning to wash over Jake, and his pupils narrowed with renewed focus.

"Haha! Wow, it looks like I have a challenge," Jake mused, still chuckling. "Oh, this is going to be good....this is going to be real good." He flexed his claws and let out a deep growl, an outright challenge to his opponent. "Yeah, let's see what you can do...what you can really do..."

Alright, Jake, he thought, Let's look at this. Spear-wielder, total ego-maniac, and a kick-ass fighter. Heh, looks like he really will be a challenge. He allowed a quick thought back to his lessons. Yeah, that should do it...

"Alright, mister 'eye of a Wyvern', let's see what you've got," Jake called in open defiance. "If you're named after a pathetic excuse for a Dragon-wannabe, it really can't be that much..." He flexed his claws and entered a ready position. His legs were apart, and his left claw was raised in front of his forehead, palm outward. The right arm was in chamber position, and his tail arced underneath the left of his unfurled wings, slightly tucked in to allow for a quicker dash. "Let's see if you're as tough as you pretend to be..."

 

[professor13]

"Gack!" Wylliam let out as a large wing slammed into his face, confusing his senses and instilling a temporary vertigo. Blindly leaping back a few feet, Wylliam lost his balance and fell onto his rear; nothing debilitating, but it was a little humiliating. He quickly got back to his feet, having regained his equilibrium, and stared across the roof to his opponent.

Suddenly, the dragon let out an unexpected laugh, filled with exhilaration. "Alright, mister 'eye of a Wyvern', let's see what you've got," the dragon called, "If you're named after a pathetic excuse for a Dragon-wannabe, it really can't be that much..."

Funny... those strikes to your stomach imply something a bit different, Wylliam thought with a smirk, before the dragon finished with, "Let's see if you're as tough as you pretend to be..."

Wylliam grinned twice as wildly as before. "How convenient!" he shouted, crouching in preparation for a quick dash, "Showing off happens to be my all time favorite thing to do!" With that, he took off, but not in the direction of his opponent. Whatever martial art that dragon practiced, charging straight in would be a good way to be beaten most ruthlessly. Instead, he began to circle his opponent clockwise, spiraling sharply inward to arrive at the dragon's left from behind. Then, after crouching low to the ground, he leapt forcefully, spear first, toward the base of the left arm in an attempt to, if not sever it completely, make it more of a decoration than a functional limb. Of course, if he missed, he would still be propelled about fifteen feet into the air, where Wylliam was confident not even the dragon could attack him. Whether Wylliam's confidence in this matter had any more base than his confidence that the universe indeed revolved around him remained to be seen.

 

[Hera Ledro]

Yes! Jake thought triumphantly as his foe began to circle him. Jake had counted on the fact that his bulk would intimidate his foe into going for a less close-ranged attack, allowing Jake more time to dodge and retaliate.

Jake had long since dropped his blade, in order to prevent anything from slowing him down. This was going to be a real battle, no weapons for him. If his foe decided to use a weapon, so be it; it just made it more of a challenge for Jake. He liked a good challenge, he did.

As his foe circled him, Jake remained in position, allowing his foe to get behind him, but keeping his ears poised so that he could hear his foe coming. His strategy depended on it, so he needed to keep his wits about him.

And then he heard the foe push off.

Jake moved instantly. He crouched and pushed upwards, flipping backwards into the air. However, he never landed. Instead, he righted himself in the air and floated on the spot, body relaxed and wings curled menacingly. "Couldn't be any more predictable, could you spear-boy?" Jake unfurled his wings and shot out into the sky. Floating more than fifteen feet out from the edge of the castle, he called out tauntingly, "Let's see how good you are in flight, or is that too much for your spear to handle? Crappy little stick, anyways."

 

[professor13]

Crappy little stick?! Wylliam thought with shock, I'll show you who has the crappy little stick! Without a single reflection upon the total lack of sense in his latter thought, Wylliam charged toward the floating vision of his foe, keeping his eyes locked onto those of the dragon. It wasn't until Wylliam had leapt onto the low wall surrounding the roof that he realized just how far away his foe was, and just how far down the ground was. Unfortunately, his momentum didn't realize or care, leaving Wylliam perched rather precariously on the edge.

Stupid kid... with his stupid wings, he thought grumpily, trying to resist gravity. It was futile, however, and Wylliam knew that, one way or another, he was soon going to be leaving this wall behind. The closest landing he could immediately spot was a spire almost fourty feet out in the direction of the dragon and thirty feet down.

...this is gonna hurt like hell, isn't it? Wylliam speculated gloomily. With no alternatives available, he let his center of gravity shift just a bit further beyond the edge, crouched down, and, a little awkwardly, pushed off with all his strength; spear extended forward. If the dragon dodged, then Wylliam would be able to land (painfully) on the opposite spire-topped tower. If the dragon decided to take the spear, Wylliam hoped the Rainbow Robes would realize his victory before he plummetted with the dragon corpse to his death.

 

[Hera Ledro]

"Damn!" Jake cursed. He'd hoped his opponent wouldn't be fool enough to jump. Instead, what did the idiot do? Jump!

I am so gonna regret this, Jake thought grumpily. The instant his foe's feet left the metal ground, Jake shot straight down, thinking nastily as the spear-point grazed his tail, I'm trying to save your life, you idiot! The wind roared over his scales as he shot more than thirty feet down in the air in three seconds, and took a steep turn to the left. His belly was an inch from the wall of the spire that had been below him.

The spire itself was not large, and rather thin. How far down it went, Jake had no idea, but he whirled around it all the same. When he came to the back side of it, the one facing away from the metal castle's wall, he made a short slash with his claws. The metal was only a foot thick, so Jake would be able to tear through it in a matter of seconds.

Two more swipes of his claws, Jake had bore through an inch of the metal. With a great roar, he slammed his body against the spire, sending it toppling over. The tip screeched as it connected to the wall, and began to slip downwards. "No!" Jake cried. He spread his wings wide and shot up underneath the spire, catching it. It wasn't heavy to him, but it was awkward.

He let go and flew several feet down, ready to catch the warrior should he slip. "Hurry up and land on that!" he cried upwards.

 

[professor13]

Wylliam's body slammed into the horizontal spire, then began to slip off to the right. Before he reached the point of no return, however, Wylliam had the presence of mind to throw his body weight in the opposite direction, leaving him lying quite winded on top of the makeshift platform. Slowly and carefully, Wylliam raised himself into a sitting position with a leg over each side, and began to shimmy himself toward the thicker end of the spire. When he reached the point where the spire met its tower of origin, he lowered himself onto the latter, placing his feet carefully on opposite sides of the tower's new sky-light.

After giving an uncomfortable cough and putting on an embarrassed grin, Wylliam called out apologetically to the dragon, "Er... sorry about your tail, and thanks for the platform." He then dropped his grin and looked at his foe with a rare seriousness etched into his face. "...However, we are opponents in this match. I can appreciate your respect for life; believe me, I never kill when it's avoidable."

"Still," Wylliam continued, a grin beginning to creep across his face, "we are both finalists in this multi-world tournament. That means we both have a pretty good idea of what we're doing."

Suddenly, Wylliam's grin reached its maximum as he said, "Plus, I immediately recognized your laugh from earlier. You and I, we love a fierce match. If you try and save me from my own battle choices, what reason do I have to believe you're taking me seriously? Fight me with killing force, and don't sweat it! For I," Wylliam shouted before dashing back across the spire toward the castle wall, "am Wylliam Morgan, the Dragoon with the Wyvern Eye, and I simply cannot die!"

Upon reaching the point of the spire, he leapt mightily up toward the castle roof, sending the spire back on its screeching course down the side of the wall. At the crest of his leap, he reached out and grasped the ledge from which he had fallen earlier and pulled himself up. He did a quick inventory of what parts of his body were the sorest, which turned out to be his right shoulder and his head, then peered back over the ledge to see the state of his foe, very... very carefully.

 

[Hera Ledro]

This thread is now closed for posting. Apologies for the delay in the closing, but uni's been biting me like a rabid dog.

Judges, please post up your decisions!