Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lithian curled his toes in the sand, barely feeling the burn of the kernels as he lowered his center of gravity and rooted his stance. Whipping his tendril of water back in a defensive half-circle around him, he let a heavy breath rush from his lips. Across from him, Casseth waited, just as out of breath and equally covered with dried sweat.

They’d been working their techniques on each other for the better part of two hours, on and off, and Eowyn’s sun now beat down on them with all the force of high noon. Lithian, for his part, had stripped down to nothing but a sash about his waist and loose pants, rolled up tight to his knees. But he still felt trapped in a balloon of heat, remaining clothes clinging to his skin as though they’d been caked on and plastered there, muscles stinging with use. At least his tolerance of the sand and heat was significantly higher than it once was.

Seconds after he moved to sweep in again, twisting his left foot out and around and drawing up his water to strike, a voice interrupted from a distance, and Lithian froze in place.

“Casseth — Casseth!” The speaker was a girl. Their age or perhaps a year younger, pale and bubbly with a head full of white-gold ringlets, and cheeks smattered with glinting green scales. Pureblood dovaa, as far as Lithian could tell and dressed in a lightweight, elegant but simple laced dress. “Here you are,” she stated as she approached, just noticeably out of breath. “I’ve been looking…all…” Her cheeks warmed as her eyes flit between Casseth and Lithian, lingering briefly on Lith before darting back abashedly to Cas and staying there as her expression turned questioning. “Is this a friend of yours…?”

“Yes,” Lithian cut in, answering for himself before Cas could. With a flick of his fingers, he sent the water under his control rippling over and around his palms like gloves with a current to wash them before tucking the water back into his flasks and stooping to dry his fingers on some of his previously discarded clothes. “Lithian Bhardvaris,” he said, holding out a hand to the girl and pushing a smile onto his lips even as his eyes flicked between her and Casseth. She stood close enough to him, that was for certain. “A pleasure to meet you.”

The girl flushed brighter, glanced to his hand, and then back to Casseth. After a long moment of hesitation, she took his offer, shaking uncertainly. “Irida Pemerith.” Immediately after letting go, she looked back to Cas. “You said you wanted to take me somewhere this afternoon? It was a surprise?”

“Oh, this is—oh.” The girl visibly relaxed, though her cheeks stayed warm, and she graced Lithian with a quick dip of a curtsey. “Casseth speaks of you often,” she said. “I’m sorry if I seemed tense, I just…some people…I didn’t…” She laced her fingers together, composing herself with a smile. “I wasn’t sure of your relation to him.”

Lithian shook his head, but found himself hard pressed to respond immediately as he glanced again between the girl — Irida, he reminded himself — who seemed to gravitate as though by magnetic pull well into the reaches of Casseth’s personal space, and Cas himself. He seemed to recall Casseth at one point mentioning a person of interest that he wanted Lithian to meet, but Cas had expressed interest in multiple girls in the past without any of them seeming to pan out.

At Cas’ words, though, Lithian blinked, dragging himself out of his musing. “I…the ‘pit’?” His brow furrowed slightly. “Isn’t that the place where your friend, Takhi…?” Lithian trailed off, remembering the word ‘surprise’ and closed his lips, though a pinch of concern remained in his expression.

He hadn’t been completely comfortable with the concept of the fighting arena to begin with — a crude, underground spin off of the same sorts of tournament fights staged on the Plane for training warriors, but geared to those seeking violent thrill instead of good sport. To make matters worse, it seemed to gather most of its fighters in the form of hybrid renegades whose lives clearly ‘meant less’ to those running the place, and gave them a false sense opportunity for glory. Or riches, if that was their aim.

“Oh you should come with us,” Irida said after Lithian let his hesitation linger too long. “I don’t mind in the least. Perhaps we can get to know each other better? I feel as though I know you better than you know me, given how much Cassie has spoken of you.”

Lithian blinked, attention jerking back over to her. ‘Cassie…?’ After shooting Casseth a Look, clearing his throat, and putting up a genuine effort not to look thoroughly amused, Lithian smiled. “Well, if you’re sure it wouldn’t be a bother for you and…Cassie…” His smile broadened, “…I’d love to come.”

Chuckling at Casseth’s look, Lithian knelt down and gathered up his clothes as well. After tugging them on — despite his personal discomfort with the idea of doing so without washing thoroughly first, given his body’s state — he followed cooperatively after Cas as his friend took the lead, his own visible sign of distaste with the arrangement the way he continued to pluck at and resituate his clothes as they walked.

As much as Casseth had spoken of this so-called “Pit” in the past, Lithian had never actually visited in person or attended a single match, and though he didn’t precisely approve of the establishment, he was curious to see how the place was handled in practice and what it had to show for itself. Irida, on the other hand, began to look visibly out of place almost as soon as they began making the trek below ground.

After passing through the first ticket gate, they followed the remaining stragglers down a broad, winding staircase that seemed cut out of the earth itself. From there, they were shuffled onto one of two loading platforms, and dropped down another level, where they made it to cheapest viewing bay, already half packed with eager bodies. Lithian might have been more uncomfortable with the sheer number of dirty, clustered, loud bodies if his attention hadn’t been so distracted by the enormity of structure itself.

Previously, he had expected something far less than the colosseum on the Plane — a poorer, dustier knock off version with more blood — and while, in some respects, the pit did not ‘disappoint’, it was rather filthy and not lacking in questionable dark stains, the presentation as a whole was much more than that. In size alone, it challenged the Celestial Plane’s colosseum: sheer, sweeping rows upon rows upon rows of viewing levels that circled around in a perfect dome cut of pure rock. They were completely below ground, the entire area lit with a blazing mixture of fire and glinting aedaun magic, and at their center, the pit itself.

Massive, it stretched long enough to line a thousand hastars or more from nose to tail, perfectly flat, and circular with eight ‘normal’ doors spaced out evenly on the north and south ends and two massive stone gates facing opposite each other to the right and left of their current position. What did they unleash on these fighters? Not just each other, but beasts as well? Dragons? What did one risk simply by being a spectator, and what kind of insanity would it take to volunteer for such a fight?

“Takhi…?” Irida repeated, drawing Lithian out of his staring in order to focus back on the conversation at present. Irida looked two parts unsettled, and one disgusted, though she seemed to be doing her best to smile despite the rest of her face’s disagreement with said expression. “She’s a close friend of yours?” Her brow pinched slightly, and then she jerked towards Casseth, eyes widening at the come on and rude commentary of a rather grungy looking oblivionite who’d just stumbled into her. He proceeded to laugh as he staggered off, likely under the influence of more than a sip or two of alcohol. “She…she sounds very…impressive,” Irida said, swallowing and brushing her fingers over her shoulder. “You sound very impressed with her, anyway…”

Lithian watched her pluck at the lace of her dress. She looked like a marbled figurine, glistening white and carved to perfection, set amongst crudely hacked wooden peg dolls.

“How…long does this performance last?” she asked.

Lithian watched the exchange between Casseth and Irida with distracted interest, half of his attention on the crowd’s growing hubub, cut off moments later as an announcer’s voice echoed through the stadium. Magically enhanced, clearly, it cracked at the edges with excess energy, the speaker’s words reverberating off the earth and stone walls. Lithian listened to Casseth too, though, his eyes drifting down to the various doors as Casseth spoke, and wondering what the experience must be like for the fighters.

What would genuinely motivate a person to risk themselves like that?

Casseth finished his explanation with almost perfect timing. Seconds after, the first two doors were opened. The first and second fights passed without much incident. As Casseth had said, they seemed to be mostly dedicated as warm-up exercises for the crowd. Lower-level fighters eager to prove themselves but not necessarily ready as they thought, making for matches over in minutes. The third, however, opened with slightly more of a show.

At first, Lithian assumed the fighter closest to them was pureblood oblivionite — near black in skin tone, riddled with scars, and eyeless with a mostly shaved head and tangled mats of her remaining hair. When the fighting sequence opened, however, it became immediately evident that she — as did most of the fighters — sported mixed blood. Weaponless, she fought first with curling, black-purple ripples of diabi magic which writhed around her like a living fog, but the instant her opponent moved in, she jerked her body so suddenly, it looked like a puppet master was controlling her from above, twitching her limbs into motion. With the movement, water pulsed upwards like a geyser from the stadium floor, and Lithian’s eyebrows arched.

Previously unnoticed by him, there were circular grates scattered all across the arena like dark blemishes along the otherwise pale sand. All of which, apparently, covered buried water sources, much to the advantage of a seasoned peisio. But what was a healing clan doing in such a bloody arena?

Almost immediately after he thought it, her geyser twisted, sweeping around like a battering ram on invisible strings and barrelling into her opponent. The two fought intensely, seemless enough that Lithian found his eyes rooted for most of the match, visibly wincing at the harsher blows and tallying what their damage would be to each other: what would need to happen to heal them. It wasn’t until some minutes later that he noticed Irida, her eyes blown wide like a groda and face — if possible — paler than ever. Her knuckles, too, where white, fingers locked on the cloth of Casseth’s sash as though petrified that, somehow, the fight would levitate up and land amongst them on the attack.

When Lithian opened his mouth to comment — or, at the very least, voice his concern — the crowd erupted, and Lithian’s attention darted back around just in time to see the oblivionite-dovaa’s head smashed through with the weight of a mace. His stomach dropped, bile hitting up against the back of his throat even as he swallowed it down, and he turned his eyes away, tightening his fingers on the rail to keep them from shaking.

Irida looked worse for the wear. “Casseth…? They—? Is that—? Can they—? Is that person…?” She squeezed her eyes shut, visibly quivering and covering her lips with her palm. “Please, I…can we…? I can’t…this…” Something approaching a whine escaped her lips as her expression pinched more. “I’m going to puke…”

Lithian nodded, following gratefully after Casseth as he lead Irida out from the surging crowds. While Lithian was shaken, he wouldn’t have outright asked to leave, but the opportunity to escape was a welcome one regardless. The entire concept of the arena unnerved him, and even if deaths were ‘rare’ it still came off as barbaric to him. Unnecessary extra bloodshed in a world already too full of hate.

Irida, for her part, stayed close to Casseth, clinging to him like a shipwrecked sailor to a rock in a storm. When they made it back to the surface, the sun stung Lith’s eyes, glaringly bright, and he edged to the side, stepping into the shadows of a nearby overhang and watching the couple’s interaction with a strange feeling of dissonance.

It was…distancing, to watch them, and unsettling in ways that frustrated him, most notably because Lithian knew his frustration with it was unfair. Irida had given him no reason to dislike her — and he didn’t dislike her, for that matter — but neither did he want her with Casseth, and that was an unfair selfishness that he was potently conscious of. She seemed kind, genuinely friendly, interested in Casseth, and — squeamish or not — willing to experiment. She had come down with them, after all, and Lithian could hardly blame her for wanting to leave. He’d been uncomfortable with the scene that transpired.

But no matter how he argued with himself, watching Casseth brush his fingers through her hair, over her cheek, and speak to her in gentle tones made Lithian’s stomach knot. He stopped watching them, waiting their interaction out, instead. When he heard ‘goodbyes’ being spoken, however, he glanced back — just in time to watch Casseth dip his head, catching Irida’s lips in a quick, chaste kiss.

Lithian’s face burned, throat seizing up on him momentarily, and it wasn’t fair. He shut his eyes, forcibly turning his head away to stew in the heat of his own blush and waiting until he was certain Irida had left before venturing a glance towards Casseth.

Immediately, Lithian tensed, shoulders going rigid under Casseth’s hand at the words. “You’ve been thinking of signing up?” he blurted. “Yourself as in…to fight? Casseth—” Lithian bit back the rest of that sentence, all embarrassment or frustration at watching Casseth and Irida vanishing under the chilling weight of raw dread. “Cas…you…how could…?”

Brow furrowing, Lithian worried the hem of his tunic between his fingers, shaking his head. No matter how he struggled to shove it from him, the image of that hybrid woman ran again and again through his head. Crushed, like a beetle beneath a hammer. To think of Casseth…

Lithian shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, anger and confusion and fear knotting together in a sickening mixture in his gut. “I would kneel before you and beg you to reconsider if I thought it would have any effect on your decision…”

Lithian blinked, eyeing Cas’ hand as it slid up and curled around his horn, then flushed and forced his eyes away again. “Er. Yes,” he agreed. “She…seems lovely. She’s very…pretty.” ‘I suppose.’ “And kind. She seemed very friendly. Not overly so, that is, simply…ah…” Lithian rubbed at one of his horns. “Mm.” Pushing a smile onto his lips, he made himself look Casseth’s way. “I’m happy for you, and not surprised in the least that she’s interested. Her parents clearly have no taste.”

Lithian chuckled, his stress easing away at Casseth’s warm attitude and a genuine smile taking the place of his previous concerned frown. “Oh yes,” he teased, shooting Casseth a laughing grin. “The mountain man, Casseth. So wild and unruly. Your passion is truly terrifying and I quiver at the thought of it.” He butted his shoulder gently against Cas’ with a narrow, smug look. “I’m timid and peaceful, Casseth. Surely if I can handle you, Irida can? Or am I simply blessed with practice and patience when it comes to taming wild and…” Lithian eyed Cas’ shoulder, flicking his finger to usher of a stray smear of dirt, likely from their time in the arena, “…dirty things.”