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"If you are no creature of darkness, then what are you really?"

Anarel felt the force once more. It pulled on him; every part of his body, and the surrounding area. He gasped for air, as it felt that it was being drawn right out from his lungs.

He faltered to one knee as the ground cracked to become uneven, straining against the constant force that continued to plow against his being.

Modi wavered at his belt. The blade felt the force as well, tugging downward from the clasp at Anarel's belt. Thinking quickly, he grabbed Modi's hilt, and concentrated deeply, just as he does with his arrows. It was difficult to manipulate mana into an object without Magni to help him, but it was still possible.

The blade took on a brighter, subtle glow as his mana flowed into. The ground cracked in response to the output of sudden energy. Using the force of the gravity that threatened to crush him, he unclasped the dagger, and its blade plunged into the ground, tugging his hand along with it.

As the blade sunk down, a long split began to snake its way from the point where the blade struck the ground. It ran from him, and underneath Omie's legs, dividing wider as it grew longer.

Suddenly, a barrage of tree roots emerged from the depths of the ground's crack, gliding at Omie from behind and threatening to wrap her in their gnarled grasps if she was not too careful.

((I imagine that the pillars are very tall ones, like a building a few stories high.))

As the ball of gravity collided with the ground, it sent a shock wave of intense force. Anarel was caught in the wave, the force taking hold of his body and slamming him quickly to the ground beneath him. The ground cracked underneath his weight.

"Grah!"

When the wave died down, he pushed up off of the ground on all fours, wavering slightly with his head hung low. "Just like me, eh?" His body finally stood upright. Anarel tilted his head upwards to meet Omie's gaze, who was high atop a pillar once more.

"I highly doubt that. Your kind of sorcery is something I have not yet encountered, until now." He could see his breath puff from his lips from the cold atmosphere that had suddenly infiltrated the Coliseum.

And with that, he leaped up onto one of the immobilized roots, feeling it retract back as he pushed down hard onto it with his legs. He reared back his legs, and as the root swung back into place, he was launched high directly to where Omie hovered above the pillar.

"You must be something more than a creature born of Asgard, to be hand selected by the gods to serve as nothing more than a deadbolt to their closet!" Anarel teased her in mid-flight, hoping that her anger would somehow cause her judgment to be clouded.

He simultaneously positioned Magni and retrieved two silver arrows from the quiver, slinging them back and tugging tight.

"When the Gods see fit to label one...a monster, was it?," Anarel narrowed his eyes at his target as he sped forth, growing closer, "...Perhaps they had good reason in doing so!"

He released the arrows, and they shot forward, making a whizzing sound as they pierced the air. Anarel stayed close behind the speeding arrows, almost keeping speed with them as the they flew toward Omie.

If she speaks the truth, and even the Gods could not stop her, then what could I possibly do?

He shook the thought from his mind.

Anarel was bashed in his side by the chain whip, sending him flying into the pillar. The impact caused him to arch his back; his mouth coughed blood.

He fell limp to the ground, stirring only after a few minutes of lying motionless. He grabbed his sides, curling into a ball. His eyelids were clenched tight.

He spit the blood that began to pool at his mouth, opening his eyes as he did. Anarel was not one to become angry, but he had not been in this much pain in years, and he was not enjoying it. Not one ounce of it.

He pushed off of the ground once more. Anarel found himself on face down on the ground too many times for his own liking. His body wavered slightly, his white, layered garbs now stained with soot, dirt, and speckles of red.

He turned and faced Omie.

"Testing my strength...eh..." he lazily gripped Modi's hilt, taking a few staggered steps toward her position. "You claim that you do not want to kill me...," He stretched out his hands and arms, forming a cross with his body while pulling Modi from the clasp at his belt, "But look at me. My visage is torn and battered. I can feel Hel's familiars upon me." His arms then fell limp to his sides.

"You test my strength, and for what?!" he said, scorning her through his teeth. He ran at her with Modi's blade, aiming for the place where the arrows had pierced her.

Anarel's eyes widened as he was tugged forward by her hands. He felt the dagger go in further than he would like to. His shoulder leaned against her stomach, as he had crouched down to fully aim the blade into her gut. Anarel's lips parted, chapped, and dry.

He did not look at her, nor did her glance about. He stared straight forward. The wind swept past him, carrying with it the dust from his body. The chain necklaces that adorned his neck clinked softly in the breeze.

His voice came through, raspy, and bent. "Yes...Loki. You spoke of him. God of mischief, trickery...flame....," A sudden flashback came to him, of his father, teaching him about the many Gods and Godesses that came about during the birth of Asgard.

He wanted to let go of Modi, but his warrior instinct told him naught. His firm grip remained on its hilt.

He furrowed his brow and pushed out any feeling of pity for Omie that had now begun to swell in his heart.

"And what of me...?," he whispered, voice raspy from the blood that caked his throat. Anarel was smart enough to read between the lines, but did not posses the patience to dance around the obvious point that Omie was making.

"Has this bout proved me worthy of your replacement, 'O mistress of gravity?" A trace of sarcasm lingered in his words.

He now stood up fully, his gaze still to the wall behind her, hand remaining on his dagger.

((I went to back to reread everything, and I just realized that the illusion of the blue chamber was only brought in for a few seconds, and then disappeared. I was under the impression that they were there for a while. Must've misread. Sorry 'bout that. sweatdrop ))

He felt the weight lifted from Modi's blade as it was emerged from her gut. He now glanced to the side of him.

Anarel thought about what she was offering him. A burden, it seemed, unto him, to defeat a God. And one so infamous as Loki himself? He swallowed hard and clasped Modi back to his belt.

But...Anarel reasoned to himself...if this is what my mother spoke of, maybe I can find...

Anarel stared at the Coliseum's damaged floor. Telythia was a city so far away, and he's heard stories of many men who have gotten lost in their journey's to the sacred city. He has never been there himself, but maybe...

His hand grabbed his mouth and chin, scratching off the dead blood that dried at the rim of his bottom lip. Anarel smiled slightly, eyes wavereing to meet Omie's gaze. For a moment, he felt like he was taking a risk, something his calculative personality did not quite welcome.

"If...," he coughed, "...even I cannot even defeat your image Omie, a simple shadow, mind you," his smile grew wider, "...how am I to defeat a god, in all of his splendor and glory?"

He knew many answers to many questions that would puzzle any normal creature, but an answer to the question he had just asked of Omie, he could not find.

Magni now reflected light from its invisible limbs, an effect that only happens when mana has been channeled through it for too long.

Anarel reached up to grab her wrist once more, but found that his own hand passed through it.

He felt his body slowly restore. The feeling ran through him like ice cold water, relieving the burns and the wounds that adorned his frame.

He cleared his throat. He wanted to thank her, but nothing came from his mouth. He only returned her smile with that of his own.

Maya?

"And where am I to find this child of yours?," he called to her before she took her leave of the Coliseum.