The sun was just beginning to set across the Lawn, its golden light casting long, fuzzy shadows across the lush green grass, still moist from the summer rain that fell throughout the day. A few heavy clouds still hung on the horizon, bright colors burnt on their lumbering forms. Classes were out, and despite it being the dinner hour, the Lawn was strangely crowded. Already buzzing with the magic that was regularly practiced, the air almost sang with a mixture of hushed, excited voices – not only from the students, but almost from the mona itself.

A small gathering of curious students hovered near the grinning monolith that marked the Lawn's center, forming a rough circle around two boys who were, by the looks on their faces, already quite prepared for a duel.

The younger of the two, pale and dark-eyed, with unkempt hair to his chin, wore a sneer that could not even begin to contain the indignant anger crackling in his field. Nauleth raised a hand to point at the darker-skinned older boy, voice heavy with challenge, "Now that we're out on the Lawn ... Why don't you say that again like you can put your money where your mouth is, or would that be asking too much from the likes of you?"

Siduri's glared intensely out at the other boy from beneath the fringe of his long, dark bangs. It was a look which, when properly applied, would send most first-years running. Although he was older than his adversary, he was no taller than Nauleth, and possibly even shorter, had he cared to measure. Needless to say, he did not care to measure. Even so, what he lacked in physical stature, he certainly made up for in demeanor, or so he subconsciously consoled himself by thinking.

The young galdor had already removed the coat of his uniform, which now lay neatly folded on the grass behind him. His shirt sleeves were rolled precisely up to his elbows, the folds in the fabric flawlessly creased, with no excess wrinkles. Even when in a wholly studious mode such as at present, having just left the class where his altercation with the other boy had begun, it was clear that he took very meticulous care of his appearance. His dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, and small gold earrings, no wider than a single piece of thin wire, gleamed in his earlobes.

As he returned Nauleth's challenging stare with an expression of frigid anger-turned-scorn, he raised his chin, sneering in proud defiance. When he spoke, his tone was controlled yet venomous, and meant to carry for the benefit of their spectators. "In case you didn't hear me well enough the first time, I happened to mention that you are a poxy half-wit who doesn't deserve the Siordanti family name. Is that clear enough for your atrophied mind to comprehend, or should I put it all into one-syllable words for you?"

Nauleth's eyes narrowed as what little self control he had beginning to evaporate like the moisture in the grass under the sun. In contrast to the well-manicured student, the boy's jacket was unbuttoned, open to the sash at his waist, revealing his collarless undershirt, and saved only by the grace of a regular cleaning. It took effort for him to regain a semblance of composure, and as the younger student did so his face slowly melted into a mask of unrestrained contempt, "You can use as few or as many syllables as you'd like. If your name was worth anything, you wouldn't be in the market to steal anyone else's."

Drawing himself up to his full height, Naul laced his fingers together, stretching them in front of him and cracking his knuckles, exhaling slowly, his field a crackling mess of anger strong enough to make the crowd's hair stand on end.

"Is that all you've got? Because I already know we can trade words until the moon rises and it would only prove you've made up for what you lack in a decent bloodline with fancy clothes and a lot of time alone with books." Nauleth grinned coldly, beginning to draw his field together and consider a spell.

Siduri's fists were clenched so tightly they were shaking. As Nauleth finished speaking, however, he forced his somewhat overlarge hands open, flexing the long fingers. His own field was radiating a cold fury, more contained than the other boy's, but no less volatile. As furious as he was, there was no way he planned on openly displaying the somewhat significant extent to which these taunts and insults were affecting him.

His facial expression remained frozen in the epitome of purest apathy, appearing almost bored save for the faintest curl of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. "Alright you coddled brat," he sneered, beginning to draw in his own field and mentally skimming through possibilities for his first spell. "Let's see if you can't make your father proud of you . . . for once. Maybe if you spent more time studying instead of throwing away the life that daddy's money might have bought you, he would give a clock about what's going to happen to you next."

((Mind if I step in?))

You could almost feel the air burning between Naul and Siduri.



A young, bronze-haired girl gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.



A tall man in his final year of schooling whistled from the back of the crowd, long and low.

The onlookers whispered and gossiped amongst themselves, watching the verbal duel and hoping lustily for an escalation. Violence seemed imminent.

((Welcome aboard and thanks for the crowd. Naul may love it now, but he will hate it soon enough.))

Nauleth grinned, enjoying the older boy's well-kept displeasure and the excitement of the gathering of students. Knowing just a taste of his weaknesses was not enough. There was more, and Naul wanted to see it, to expose it. While Siduri's own words were rather difficult to handle, especially those that brought up his strained relationship with his father, the younger student was smugly confident in his studies and committed to making sure Siduri would not have room to question his abilities again.

"If you're so confident I'm not a good student, that must mean you think you've got some kind of an advantage. I might as well level the playing field, then." The boy sneered haughtily, glaring at Siduri over the sharp curve of his nose. With a chuckle, he raised a hand and began to incite the monite for Dullness, focusing his field and struggling carefully to keep his words to the mona as controlled as possible.

At this, Siduri's eyes narrowed slightly. Nauleth's words were certainly an irritation, and he despised the way his opponent so successfully pandered to the crowd, but even then he decided not to rise to the his bait; by saving his breath for the spell he was about to cast, he would improve his chances of having a somewhat timely retaliation.

"Level the playing field". . .he's about to try and cast something that will restrict my own spell-casting abilities, he realized in the back of his mind. If that were indeed the case, he ought to attempt to retaliate with something that would have an equally lasting and disruptive effect on his opponent, preferably something visual in keeping with the theatrical aspect of their duel. Keeping his gaze fixed on Nauleth, he blocked out the clamor of the crowd and began to focus on the mona in his field as he started to murmur the words which would allow him to cast Pain.

The mona buzzed somewhat reluctantly, though they followed his controlled directions. The Dullness spell sapped at Siduri's concentration, skimming off his ability to focus on the crowd and the wind. All the little things became harder to see, Naul seemed slightly harder to focus on. The world seemed like it was wrapped in cotton.

Siduri's lips kept moving on the Pain spell, as that was where most of his focus lay.

In the back of his mind, he knew vaguely what had happened; however, he also knew that the most important thing was to complete the spell. With all the mental energy he could muster, he focused solely on the mona, shutting everything else out; he could barely perceive most of it anyways. He had to finish the spell. . .

Nauleth grinned despite the murmurs of hesitation from the mona, too much anger and excitement invested in the situation to really pay attention to the resistance he felt in casting. The younger boy saw that Siduri was still casting his own spell, but he stepped closer anyway, taunting, "Now we'll see who's been throwing away more ... you. Or me."

He could have paused to try and determine the older boy's spell, but instead decided to take advantage of his success with Dullness. Focusing his field again and taking a few more steps forward, Naul began to intone the monite for Depth Perception, hoping that if the combination worked, he could find creative ways of downing the older boy.

The Dullness spell ironically made Siduri's casting momentarily more concise. He had to focus all his will on every word, articulate his intentions with directness and sincere need. The Pain spell hit Naul before he had the opportunity to fully direct his second spell. It was excruciating, twisting his stomach into knots. It was not quite enough to stop him speaking but the Pain spell was a slow burn and it wasn't going to go away. If Naul wanted to win he was going to have to finish casting quickly and attempt a counter before he was completely incapacitated.

The younger student managed to stifle a whine, wincing at the pain and terrible taste of the older boy's spell. The promise of increased agony only seemed to push Naul closer to the edge of selfish rage, and the turning of his stomach made his casting more urgent and yet more angry. He stopped approaching Siduri, not wanting to stumble and look foolish, but continued his spell through grit teeth.

The boy stopped caring about the crowd's attentions and began to let the slow burn of the spell fill his senses. First, his father had to go and write him off. Why? Because he didn't approve of his son's aptitude for finding weaknesses in others? Stupid. Then, of all things, this title-less excuse for a galdor on the Lawn pipes up about how he was being groomed and considered for an internship with who? Yeah. Brilliant coincidence that was. What a joke. How could this boy possibly be a better choice than himself? How would his father even know the difference anyway? It's not like he even really paid attention.

Oh, Nauleth was clocking pissed.

The younger boy hardly let a breath pass between the ending of one spell and the beginning of his next, mind racing frustratedly, dark eyes gleaming. He simply acted, focused on the dark-skinned boy and no one else. Without waiting on the success of Depth Perception, he inhaled sharply and did not bother to counter, practically growling the monite for Push, barreling at Siduri with his voice and field, even while standing still, wanting to see the boy fall over first at any cost.

Siduri had started in on the monite for Nausea as soon as his dulled reflexes would allow him. He couldn't afford to spare the time it would take to gloat over the successful casting of a spell, not under the influences of dullness as he was now. There was no attention to spare for the crowds or the Lawn, and little even for Naul himself. The single most important thing would be fore Siduri to get this spell out in time before his opponent had a chance to disrupt it. Had he been operating at his full analytical and strategic potential, he might have sought to act differently, to counter, or to gloat and taunt, or to pull of a somewhat more complex spell. Now, however, he was forced to devote all the energy he could muster to the completion of this single spell.

In the back of the crowd of onlookers, a man watched the fight with keen interest.

He did not wonder why no one interfered; seldom had he seen two young men looks so purposeful, so passionate, so deeply dedicated to each other's destruction. It was intoxicating and horrible at the same time.

He was not the only one to feel the vibrancy in the air of the Lawn. The mona were in full gale force now, swirling around in a maelstrom of energy. The very oxygen in his lungs seemed to burn with the boys' purpose and hatred.

Refusing to interfere, he decided to continue his silent vigilance. This was going to get interesting.

The Depth Perception spell barreled through the air at Siduri, slamming into him like a clawing hand. Naul's momentary loss of focus meant the spell only clipped Siduri, causing one of his eyes to water and sting. His left pupil blew out, the viciousness of Naul's intent causing an unstoppable physical response. Naul's agony increased and the mona began to hiss at the lack of respect they were getting from either duelist.



Siduri's quiet focus was more pleasing to the mona than Naul's enslaught. The Nausea spell hit Naul dead on, though with less potency than it might usually have due to the underlying effect of the Dullness spell. The combination of pain and sickness was enough to make Naul want to wretch. His push spell only managed to bump Siduri back a few steps, his temporarily damaged eye and inability to concentrate forcing him onto one wobbily knee.

Siduri stumbled back, then went down on one knee, swaying as the fuzzy world around him came slightly more into focus. He had to squeeze his left eye shut to keep water from pouring out of it. From his good eye, he could just see the blurry form that was Naul, and he gritted his teeth angrily, the small amount of satisfaction he felt at the humiliating result of the Nausea spell countered by the fact that he himself had nearly gone down. Immediately, he struggled to his feet, although the world was spinning in the mist around him.

He knew he would need extra time if he wanted to prepare another spell, as a result of the Dullness and now the Depth Perception. Were he to cast either against his opponent, he felt confident he could regain an advantage; however, he preferred to stick to simpler spells with which he felt more assured of success given his reduced casting ability. Dullness would have been easier, but he felt oddly compelled not to use it; it would show that the playing field between them was indeed leveled only when his own abilities were reduced, and thus prove his superior ability. After a few seconds' deliberation on what might normally have been a split-second decision for him, Siduri settled on casting Sting.

Nauleth stumbled, the combination of searing uncomfortable pain and nausea quickly becoming an unhappy and unstoppable force in his body. While he was still a bit too far away from the older boy to make him a viable target for his magically-induced illness, there were a handful of by-standing students just within a few steps' range. Veering in that direction, the younger boy still managed to aim for the nicest pair of shoes to lose his dinner all over with a quiet, gurgling groan.

He barely caught himself from actually running into the students by sticking an arm out and catching a shoulder of some other bystander with a shaking hand for balance, but he did not bother to mumble much of an apology other than an uncomfortable grunt. He turned slowly, wiping his angry face on the back of his hand, and resumed his now much more careful but still obviously unsteady walk towards Siduri.

Feeling the anger in the air, even from the mona itself, did not seem to be enough of a warning. The swirling and the tangible emotions in the air only seemed to escalate Naul's selfish sense of indignant purpose. Slightly humiliated, more than a little self-righteous, and still terribly angry, the younger boy stopped only a handful of feet away from the older student, who seemed to be waiting for something.

Breathing unevenly, Nauleth sneered before raising his hands again to cast, "Don't tell me you're tired already? Surely, we were just warming up ..." He wavered a little, fighting to stay upright, focused, and in control of his chaotic emotions.

His sneer melted into a grin as the dark-eyed boy flexed his field in the already frustrated air, inciting with quiet, smoldering anger his own Pain spell.

((I'm sorry guys, Siduri is the one who's been forced onto one knee, on account of his eye being damaged and the dullness spell.))

Felicity Dunpeaty screamed as she felt warm vomit fall directly onto her new shoes. The remains of the days lunch, roast veal with mash and peas, splashed onto her stokings. It took a moment for the wetness to seep in, contaminating her clothes with a meaty, acid stench.

"Ahhh-lioe!" Felicity screamed, bursting into tears and running hysterically through the crowd. All the students around her rushed out of her way, some shrieking as stray flecks of bile touched their immaculate uniforms.

Naul's agony and sickness gave the mona pause for thought. Naul was dangerously close to falling or causing a very painful backlash. His intonation was off, his mind was in a shambles. Naul's spell fell flat, despite all his efforts he hadn't come anywhere near close to casting Pain. The mona about him almost moaned, whirling and cautioning. It was as though the air was full of prickly electricity.

As soon as the younger boy realized his spell had refused to work, everything in his hurting, angry mind fell apart. He just sort of snapped. If he was going to be furious, everyone was going to know exactly how angry he was – everyone.

Oh, no, you're not going to refuse me now. I am not going to just let this go by and be humiliated by you, too. You are not taking this away from me. He thought in utter frustration, although he did not say anything out loud to the mona, his words could almost be felt as a physical thing. Instead, he took the closing steps to stand directly in front of Siduri, almost watching him cast. He was breathing hard and he could hardly hear above his own furious pulse in his head.

"This time, you're going to listen." He hissed out loud, more like a growl, but he was not speaking to the older boy at all. Nauleth hardly had to gather his field, so thick and terrible was the air with magic. It's not like he could've focused anyway; his thoughts were already maliciously inclined. He raised his left hand across his chest as he began intoning – there was no request in his words, however, but only demand – the monite for the same spell that had failed, Pain, but his hand was not for casting so much as ready for a swift backhand once he was finished speaking through grit teeth.

((Moved some words around I didn't like. Nothing else changed, tho.))

Siduri's good eye narrowed slightly. Even through the fuzz of Dullness, with one eye out of commission and his depth perception out of whack, he could tell that Nauleth was a whole lot closer than he ever wanted Nauleth to be, particularly in the context of a duel. This boy was far too unpredictable, even for his calculating mind, and that fact alone was enough to make him wary.

Whatever his younger opponent had planned, however, he knew he would most likely be unable to counter or anticipate it, particularly not in his current state. Once again, he attempted to block out everything but the spell in his mind, as he continued to bend his wavering focus on speaking the Monite for Sting.

Siduri did not have the chance to get past even the first syllable of monite. The mona exploded, filling the air with painful non-noise. All present, save the particularly stalwart and a few professors, clutched at their ears. Naul's body exploded in angry pain. His head bloomed with firey agony, it felt as though a long claw was being dragged down his scalp and around his body, leaving him powerless and sore. His forward momentum threw him into Siduri, the remains of his earlier expulsions smeared onto the older boy's shirt. Naul's skin burned, forcing a hideous, primal scream from his lips before he passed out completely. Siduri felt a trickling of the runoff, like a bitter warning, bugs were crawling over him. He was burning. His lungs were filling with smoke. All of his positive thoughts were momentarily gone and there was nothing to do but to despair.

The vicious moment passed. For the first time in most of their lives the galdori students could not feel the mona. It had pushed away from Nauleth and the duel. No one would be casting magic there for the rest of the day.

It was the startling lack of presence that Alisoina felt draw her forward. The fight had not passed her notice, however, in a words, she was short and no one had wanted to let her though. It wasn't like she had much of a chance to watch, though, for shortly after she'd arrived and made her way forward, it was over and the utter vanishment of mona made her want to cry. What in Alioe's name could possible be happening here...?

Somehow, though, she managed to claw her way to the front, and saw a disturbing sight; the last minutes of the fight. There, an older boy who was obviously foreign (trash), and a younger student, who looked to be in better form. That is, until things began to go wrong. Now Ali stood near the front of the crowd, hands covering her mouth, tears forming in big greenish-yellow eyes. Somehow or other, the mona had up and dissipated, there was vomit and the younger one was on the floor and goddess what was going on? She wanted to go forward and try something, anything... so she stepped back instead, allowing the shame of her own fear and uselessness sink into her. Yet she waited, clinging to a wall, eyes catching everything of the aftermath.

((Yeah, sorry it took me so long to post... 13 hour cartrips = no fun))

With his depth perception still impaired, Siduri's collision with Naul sent him stumbling backwards, losing his balance, his good eye wide with shock. As soon as he had regained some sense of where he was in relation to the rest of the world, he scrambled rapidly back to put some distance between Nauleth and himself; his head still fuzzy, he wasn't entirely sure what had taken place, but even then he could recognize that it had been awful. He had felt, if only for a few seconds, the terrible anger of the mona, and could only imagine what it might have done to the other boy. Under normal circumstances he would have certainly taken the opportunity to gloat, but now he wanted nothing more than to get off the Lawn and change into a clean shirt.

The man in the back of the crowd had seen enough. His mouth twisted in contempt, he turned and walked away from the fight, ruminating on the events that could turn man against man like a pair of vicious beasts.