He had left a letter upon her bed pointing her towards him. The night air was still warm and filled his body with vigor. He had decided it was time to bring back the monster that he had made.

Alstair held in his hands a black mask. It was covered in fine black scales and would cover a man's face with ease. He let out a deep breath and placed it upon his features. It felt like a second skin. Shielding him from the blood he had shed in Mugroba. Standing upon the roof of the Seventen Headquarters he looked out upon the city a spear in his left hand It's bladed point shining in the moonlight. Whipping around his cloak snapped and tore at his throat like a beast.

"I am sorry Ilythia that I must have you walk this path like I did so many years ago." He whispered the words snatched away with a single tear.

The mid-afternoon air had the consistency of sap as Ilithyia sat on the curb, her shirt clinging to her like a second skin. She'd already walked half the length of the city, lingering a few moments to look at something soothing before moving on. The entire afternoon had been one monologue after the next, all telling her the same things; you aren't half in love with him anymore, you're in love with him. You can't be the mitigating force, you are either for or against him. You must either live as a creature of someone else, or take the reigns and control what you can. Each revelation had been weighed against itself, weighed against the others, until nothing made sense and she could only say his name to herself, a totem to call upon everything that had happened in the last days. Alstair Murdoh. Alstair Murdoh. Alstair Murdoh.

Flinging herself from the street, she began her rounds again, losing herself in the city. Her very breath was a poison to her, and she hated every gasp she pulled through her lips. She was riddled with self-disgust and self-consciousness. He makes me feel beautiful; when I'm away from him, it's worse than it ever was. I feel like I have power when he talks about our plans; they are not my plans. Have I done a thing for myself in since meeting him? A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Oh course, the dress. Yet I even bought that because of him. Shivering, Ilyia bit her lip, realizing none of this, none of it mattered. I'm forsworn, I gave him my word. I have grown in the last week more than ever in my life, and yet a decision made in ignorance is my fate. I cannot walk away knowing what is plans are, I cannot walk away because I love him, and I cannot walk away because something in me, something I don't know whether to hate or love, agrees with him.

The barracks loomed above her, and she walked though the broad doors as if their shadow was that of the gallows. Her heart was heavy with its burden of confusion and hope. As she entered the room, she saw the note. Collapsing on the bed, she glared at it for a minute before picking it up; she read its terse message quickly and sighed. Smoothing her features and retying her hair, she made her way to the back of the barracks, towards the stair that led to the roof. It was a long, long climb, but she made it, and standing near the exit, she looked out, unsure if she wanted to continue.

((Ignore this))

Alstair stood before her. His face hidden, spear in hand. He was still imposing even as he fought back the urge to throw himself away and castoff all that he had done.

"It is time you learned why I am the way I am." He said slowly as he stared at Ilythia his voice hard and as cold as a piece of steel. "The reason I speak of dead warriors is because I am one of them."

Oh dear lady. The figure rose out of the dark like a shade, and Ilithyia had to catch herself in the doorway, her feet slipping mid-step. Her already frayed nerves were now shot. She gasped quietly, and touched her face as she felt something warm running down her cheeks. Tears. Her face was leaking. Wiping them away with her wrist, she tried to stem their flow.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she nodded quietly, willing to accept anything at this point, but utterly unable to speak. She quietly pulled on the anger at Morde, at her orders, and slowly felt her broken, confused self being pulled back by the strings of rage and honor.

"Are you afraid Ilythia?" He asked standing utterly still. "Is that why you look at me like frightened animal?"

As he spoke He flexed his field letting the mona flare up like a star falling from the sky. Fires seethed in their memories.

"Well! Come here Ilythia face a dragoon!" He yelled pointing the spear towards her. "Can you kill the man that loves you?"

And Time Stood Still. She stared at him a moment, the scaled mask, the spear, the firey halo that surrounded him, the blazing resolve in his voice, and for the first time in her life, she knew true, animalistic terror, untempered by any other emotion. Her very instincts told her to flee, to escape before her life was burned from her in a firestorm. Her knees gave, and it took sheer force of will to remain standing. You are going to die if you don't leave! Run, now! GO! Yet years of suicidal thoughts and regenerating fatalism were as deeply ingrained into her psyche as a tattoo of self-hatred, and the hard live-or-die training of officers of the law made her stand, locked her knees, narrowed her eyes.

Without any warning whatsoever, Ilithyia lunged. Using her long reach to her advantage, burning the adrenaline that terror had birthed, she nigh flew. Grabbing the spear just below the point, she forced it from Alstair's hands, simultaneously spinning on the ball of her foot and thrusting into a kick that sunk into Alstair's gut, toppling him. Spinning the spear in one hand over her head, she quickly pointed it at his throat, inches away from his Adam's apple. Leaning down, she looked at him, eyes void instead of heated, and her field flicked with what was the beginnings of a storm of her own, as yet nebulous and uncertain.

"I can kill you, Mr. Murdoh, the question lies in if you will allow yourself to be killed." She flicked the weapon back, and handed it to Alstair, holding a hand out to help him up.

Alstair stood without her aid. His face hidden so that only his lips could seen in a pleased smile.

"Then let us begin." He said quietly taking the spear and tossing it to the side. At the same time he brought a knee up with incredible force and speed aiming for Ilythia's torso. The night was young and he knew that it would take time to make her into a monster like him.

Ilithyia fell back, landing heavily on her rear, gagging on the acid that shot up her throat. Coughing it back, she shakily rose, looking at him. What in Alioe's name is he doing?

Suddenly, his last sentance sunk in; the man who loves you. He loves me? What? She stood, unsure what to do next, only sure that she had better get into a defensive position or face that kind of attack again, however, she didn't move, only readied herself for she knew not what.

"Get up a FIGHT!" HE yelled as he took a step towards her his field seething with raw energy. "Or I will kill you! Let yourself go and FIGHT!"

His voice was loud and clear as his entire body tensed ready to lash out and strike with enough force to kill an man is they were caught off guard. He hated himself right now.

Good goddess, has he finally snapped? She looked at him, knowing her first success had been a fluke, and that she would not repeat it. Although every bit of her logic screamed that this wasn't a fighting situation that she needed to leave and find Alstair help, she steadied herself, wondering if perhaps she ought to just stop and walk away. Something, however, needed to prove itself, and so she went from passive position to an active stance.

It was hard to size him up in the dark, so she pulled on memory. Ignoring his scarred shoulder, she lashed out, first aiming some punches to his core, followed by a rather lackluster jab with her knee. She wasn't into the fight, and it was showing.

Alstair managed to block most of the hits enduring the few punches to torso and seizing the knee with a vice like grip. With a single fluid motion he took a step forward and tripped her causing her land upon her back. With his other foot he ground his heal on her right hand.

"Do better than that Ilythia. If you are going to be by my side you need to fight like every time is for your life." He said almost as if a teaching to a student. "I want you by my side but, you need to be able to stand upon your own two feet and carve your own future."

She fell back again, and goddess damn it, it hurt. The pain in her knee faded, however her back wasn't use to the abuse of the last week and a half. As Alstair ground his heel into her palm, she bit back a cry, and looked up at his with worried, betrayed eyes. What was he doing, and why should she fight him like this? Grabbing his ankle, she shifted it off her hand, and sprung back up, rubbing the palm over her tunic to stop the stinging.

"What? You're confusing me, Alstair. What... what do you mean?" She didn't wait for a response, because he obviously wanted her to fight. So, instead she lunged again, aiming her shoulder for his midsection, springing forward quickly.

Alstair shook hie as he easily threw her into a headlock and brought up a knee into her abdomen.

"I'm doing this so you don't die!" He scolded throwing her back and staring at her disgusted.

"Right now If I die this is all over. Anaxas will be killed by it's own rotted heart and everything we have held will be ripped apart! You need to be able to stand and fight! Take you destiny from me and become a dragoon Ilythia Lutgardis!" He explained as he took of his mask and cloak tossing them to the ground. "I freed myself of destiny seven years ago. Can you rise to that level and join me?"

She was really getting hurt now; things that had been strained almost a week earlier were getting re-pulled, and her exertions of the afternoon weren't doing her any good either. Yet Alstair really believed what he was saying, and Ilithyia heard her influence in his words. She really had shaped the course of his beliefs, she was the temperance to his passion. That, more than anything, made her stand straight again, and really decide to spar.

She went in this time thinking, aiming more hits below the ribcage, however her eyes were always looking for an opening, and she used each one with precise execution, bobbing and weaving, less blocking hits than not being there when they fell. She took some damage, but this time she was prepared and just moved on, always flicking in and out of range.

Alstair smiled as she began to actually take the fight seriously.

"That's better!" He grunted when one of the blows landed heavily into his stomach. "More like a real warrior."

Doubled over he lunged forward scooping Ilithyia by the waist and lifting her high. With a second step he threw her to the ground and back away readying for for the next assault.

"Better. But not perfect." He said smiling as his filed crackled with energy the mona flying high on his own soaring emotions.

She landed hard on her tailbone, the shockwaves actually making her cry out, stars dancing in front of her eyes. She lay on the ground gasping for a minute, aching every time she tried to stand, until she finally managed to stand on her own. He's awful chatty for an insane fighter, she thought waspishly as she rotated her hips, hearing the crack as the cartiledge settled. Ilithyia was annoyed now; she had been very good at the academy, and here Alstair was showing her up like a trainee on their first day!

This time instead of shooting forward, she began her circle like the sparring match, looking for a weakness, knowing if she waited long enough she would find one. As they rotated she saw a moment where his elbow wasn't low enough, and she kicked, actually striking for once, close to the kidney. She knew she wasn't fast enough at the moment to fully recoil, but she had a plan.

Alstair let put a gasp of pain as the blow landed. It had been a careless mistake at best. A fatal flaw at worst and a nuisance at the moment. With brutish grab he bent the knee by pressing onto tendons and surged forward intending to send her back onto the ground again. His mind registered teh fact that right now her other leg was free. Oh well, a blow from that wouldn't be fatal.

Not only was her other leg free, Alstair's hands were both occupied. Ignoring the pain in her leg, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders and flung her elbow at his face, the hard bone clipping him somewhere in the neck/face region, she wasn't sure where, because she felt herself falling... and was bringing him down with her. Only she managed to slide her free lag across his body, and was preparing to land squarely on top. There was so many things that could go wrong, but she was willing to take the risk.

Alstair felt his jaw shoved sharply to the left. That was going to be bruised to Alioe knew what in the morning. Freeing his hand he used his body as teh driving force and shifted his so that it would be a tackle forcing them to the side. It would hurt like since he was landing on his right but, with a little luck he could at least get onto his feet first and get her beat.

They toppled on their sides, at least reverse to what it had been in the spar. However, landing on her hip, Ilithyia gasped, tucking her chin into her shoulder, pain etched across her soft features. She was more hurt that Alstair, and so it took her longer regain mobility. Trying to banish the colorful blurs that marred her vision, she tried to stand, and failed, mostly because it was painful rather than impossible.

"I submit." Waving a hand, she looked up at him, tired but nowhere near exhausted or expended. She was mostly ready to end this game; she was annoyed, but no longer wanted to fight.

Standing Alstair clutched his shoulder. Electric pain surging through his body.

"No. You cannot submit." He said plainly. "Treat this as if I am your killer Ilythia. Now get up and fight."

Slowly he took a few steps froward his right dangling uselessly at his side and landed a swift kick to her ribs. As he did this he thought back to the day when his teacher had done the same thing to him in Brunnhold. There was no giving up or submitting. It was fighting to live simple as that.

After the second blow hit her ribs, Ilithyia rolled away and stood, actually biting back more painful gasps by gnawing on her lip. Oh FUCK. She looked at him, glaring, finally some anger blazing in her, enough that she was willing to stand and not attack. She was amassing bruises and pain,and she was no longer confused.

"Who the hell do you think you are to order this from me?" her hair was falling from its neat queue and her uniform was getting ripped and torn from too many skids, but she was stormy and no longer cared. Holding her side, she spat blood and wiped away the red spittle. "What do you want? Do you want me to kill you?"

Alstair smiled. He was pleased she had finally gotten angry! It was an exquisite sight to him.

"No I don't intend to kill you Ilyia." He said smiling. "I'm forcing you to stand strong. To become the most beautiful woman in all of Anaxas. I want you to stand as strong and as powerful as the sun itself! Now stand and fight my warrior woman!"

As he spoke he offered a hand to Ilyithia his field crackling in delight. He remembered how his teacher had forced him to this point and then shoved him beyond making his a true warrior. Would Ilyithia be able to go that distance as well?

Ilithyia still, still didn't understand. He's not making any sense. But now her blood was going; so, you want to fight? Fine. Rolling her shoulders, she let drop every issue she had held onto to, allowed them all to slip free. She didn't care about his words, his plans, or him. Ilithyia faded from existence, and her training took over, more so than in a long, long time. She hadn't focused so on something since she had been free of the daily pain of Brunnhold. But you wanted it, wanted an opponent, and by goddess you will go down.

Ilithyia attacked again, eyes sharp as knives. She continued a barrage of hits and misses, taking some glancing blows but ignoring them. However, this time when the opportunity came, she didn't ignore his weakest spot. Ilithyia rammed into Alstair's scarred shoulder, taking hits and ignoring better placed areas for that one success.