Tehran's beady eyes widened as a body was tossed toward him. Quickly, he grabbed the man by the neck, nearly killing him with he grip while he stumbled back. But the bull quickly found his footing and shoved the male forward while muttering. "Forgive me."
The blade of the Psychic cut too deep into the body of a brute being held by a bull, since said bull shoved the mass forward to meet the weapon.

Now either the swing was forceful enough to cut the body in two or the shock of the body coming back to the thrower would catch the blade under the rib cage.

On either one, Tehran would use the certain pause to ram his massive fist into the side of Torm's head, pushing his human shield deeper onto the weapon or tossing it aside altogether.


Ottaga let out a Bull's cry that would nearly match that of the Frostarian's, swinging his own ax forward.

Clang! The sword and the ax came together as Ottaga strategically put them in a battle of strength. He had turned his weapon in such a way that it would catch Jaek's own in the slight space between blade and body of the ax.
His weapon may not be forged by the weapon smith's of the North but. It wasn't forged by some fools playing with fire. His muscles flexed as he pushed to keep Jaek's blade from coming down and into his shoulder.
"This is good." He chuckled while grunting, loud enough for the pale being to hear but close enough so that the message was only for him. "Let all the anger out. I know it must've been hard to face the fact that Ottaga Boff let you go. A Frostarian like you with so many connections." His nostrils flare.

The goons were still advancing.

The muscles in Jaek's arms bulged and pulled taught beneath his skin as he matched the bull's strength. These creatures were almost shear muscle and raw power.

"The loss of me is more dire for you," the Frostarian sneered, getting his face closer to the Minotaur's so they could smell each other's breath. "Not only do you lose the benefit of those connections..." Again, that sadistic grin of Jaek's spread across his features, baring his long and pointed canines, "But you now have me pursuing your head as my prize." The Nephilim forced the blade of his foe's axe down so that the points of their weapons dug into the floor at their feet. He pressed his head up against his adversary. "And you know how relentless I am."

Torm is unsurprised when the minotaur uses his accomplice as a shield, he assumed that would happen. However, what did catch him off-guard was the immediate sucker-punch to the side of his head upon being spun sideways. Granted, the body of the brute did not split, but he was certainly impaled by the weapon. When the brute fell by the wayside, it took Torm's weapon with it, deactivating mid-fall for a nice fling across the room, only to clatter against a wall, a light-blue smoke wafting from the weapon.

Suddenly weaponless, Torm is caught momentarily out of the loop when he takes that blow to the head. However, he recovers quickly. Rather than being ragdolled to a distance, like the minotaur had likely been thinking, the Psychic instead turns on his opponent. For a moment, there is a vacuous sound, as if the air itself was being sucked away in a moment. Before he raises both hands, fingertips splayed forward, unleashing a burst of electrokinetic energy, shocking Tehran with a furious amount of bright blue lightning. The sudden shock, and the sudden convulsion of his muscles, would likely fling the gun from his opponent's hands. Granted, even if he held onto it, the voltage would not only cause him more harm than simply tossing the weapon (both due to the additional conductivity of electricity into his hands, and the potential nerve damage of forcing himself to grip a metal object being electrocuted. The latter being potentially permanent.), but the barrel was now warped by the sudden transfer of energy and heat and the rifling was ruined, rendering it useless and even outright hazardous to attempt to fire for fear of simply detonating.

After a moment, the Kiffar takes a step back, breathing in a slightly more labored manner than before, and says "If you give up now, I promise you some leniency in the court. Don't make this worse for us both." It was fairly clear the psychic still had much of his strength left, but perhaps there was something he knew that the minotaur didn't. Maybe that burst of energy made him weaker in some fashion.

Tehran cried out and fisted his hands as electricity rippled across his skin and stunned his muscles. Immediately his weapon flew from his hand, clattering across the floor and bumping into the foot of a bystander.
Once the shock passed the bull took a knee, snorting and breathing heavily as a thin smoke rose from his body. He flexed his hands and blinked firmly a few times as he swayed lightly, his heart beating quickly and his breathing ragged. Once Torm was done talking he shook his head from left to right, snorting once more before rising to his feet. "Bite me." He puffed as his eyes narrowed and he stamped his hooves. Evening his breaths he squared his shoulders and burst forward towards Torm, ready for a match of strength.
Boff men had created a ring around the two, their weapons raised in case the scale tipped too far against the Black Bull.


Ottaga pushed his soft fuzzy forehead up against the cool skin of the Frostarian's forehead. He smiled at Jaek's chilling grin, unphased by it. Well the hair on his back did raise a bit. Nonetheless, He stepped forward, his own muscles flexing and straining. "Certainly." His nostrils flared. "So show me a challenge!" He roared as he reared back and slammed his head right up against the Nephilim's.
The bull was made for head butting so he would be unphased by the blow he caused. When it hit, it would either cause his foe to stumble away from him or simply to jerk his head back. If he indeed stumbled, Ottaga would unlock his ax and bring it swinging back around for Jaek's knees. If not then Ottaga would simply chuckle menacingly.

The headbutt had caught the Frostarian off guard and threw his head back, causing him to shove against the bull's block. Recovering with haste, Jaek took towards the Minotaur once more with murder in his eyes. A trickle of blood would begin to make its way down his face from the wound inflicted by the headbutt, angering the prideful Northerner even further.

As soon as the distance between the adversaries had been closed yet again Jaek brought the black-as-night blade down to sink into Boff's shoulder. Were he to parry, the mercenary would spin around and send the length of his blade headed for Boff's midriff. The obsidian of Northern volcanoes was quite durable and, if refined properly, equally as sharp. Long ago the human ancestors of the Frostarians had learned to use obsidian for spear points and arrow tips before the knowledge of how to work metal came about.

Were the blade to hit it would cleanly cleave a beast such as Boff in two. All that stood in the way was whatever minor armor he might be wearing and his own flesh. The spine would cut through like a twig if the Minotaur didn't manage to block. Anticipating his enemy's combative prowess, however, Jaek planned to take a step back from the expected block and send the tip of Mortem in for a jab to the abdomen. Perhaps he'd be able to skewer the Minotaur like the beef he was.

As Tehran charged him, the psychic was prepared. However, doubtless to the surprise of the charging bull, he did not evade his opponent. Instead, he caught him and stopped him dead in his tracks. The Kiffar had the bull's horns in his grip, and was actively pressuring his head downward, held for just a moment to speak "Warned you." before delivering a vicious knee to his opponent's jaw, which would no doubt send him stumbling backwards. A moment later, Torm spins around for a vicious kick to send his opponent sprawling.

Either he would beat this bull at his own game and demoralize him, or he'd break him by hand if necessary. Lethal force was always the last answer.

Ottaga let out a hearty laugh at the look on Jaek's face after the headbutt. If the being wasn't so murderous then they could've been best friends. Truly. Giving a puff, the ring on his nose jiggling, he throws his head to parry the Frostarian's dark blade with his horns. The parry made him grunt for the blade nearly took off a portion of his horns. But he had to stay on his hooves. Again the weapon came swinging around and the bull had to knock it away with his axe, quickly stepping backwards as the next attack was a jab. "Hurt are you? Kill me then Frostarian! And when you're done tell me how it all works out? Tell me how it mends you!" He bellows, voice deep as he threw his axe against the dark blade, parried where he could with his horns and strategically glanced off shots with his bracers. "Tell Big Ottaga how it made it all better.." He coo'd, charging the Frostarian once more.

Tehran grunt and snort as his charge was ended by a grab at his horns and simply pushed the Kiffar back a few feet. He pushed and turned left and right as the male locked him down, much to his dislike. Then, with very little warning he had a face full of knee of which he jerked back from. While shaking his head and flexing his jaw he reacted too late to feel a foot connect with his chest and send him stumbling back. He nearly fell but bounced himself back into his balance. There was a good distance between them now but Tehran would wait to see what move his foe would make.
The ring of thugs shifted and flinched as Tehran was tossed about.

Jaek let out an infuriated snarl and met the Minotaur in his charge. Like the Frostarian, Boff could wield his rather large weapon with ease and quickness, making it more of a hassle to deal with than what would normally be the case. He'd be able to block more, as what had been the case so far. The horns didn't help. All Jaek had brought with him was Mortem...

The ring of weapons colliding sounded, a cloud of sparks erupted, and Jaek decided to make a move.

Putting every ounce of strength he could spare into pushing back on the bull's axe, wary of the blade, he took a quick step closer to the Minotaur, ducking his head underneath the reach of his horns, and opened his maw.

Many forgot that Frostarians were a very combative species, willing to use whatever they could to reach victory. The advantage of having fang-like canines was definitely not lost on Jaek. He intended to plunge those very teeth into the neck and collar of the bipedal bovine.

Torm calmly reaches his hand out, and his weapon jumps from its location on the floor into his grasp. For a moment, it ignites, before he simply shuts it down and affixes it to his belt. All the while, gazing around at the people surrounding them. With his weapon retrieved, now he had options. His first move, deal with the gaggle of idiots who decided to stand around a telepath who has achieved any manifestation of telekinetic ability, and expect to be fine.

The Kiffar starts walking toward the minotaur, calmly taking steps, hands in fists. His gait was surprisingly intimidating for someone with such a deceptively thin frame. He wasn't charging this creature, that would be stupid on a multitude of levels for someone of his stature and natural physical strength. No, he was just going to walk up and punch Tehran through a wall, or a ceiling, it didn't matter at this point.

"All of you must focus. Cast your mind outwards and find the very edges of the forest without moving a centimeter." Ithilwen spoke softly, all three of her eyes looking at the circle of beings in front of her. They were standing in a wide circle in a clearing of trees, their hands linked, their bodies turned towards the center, and their eyes closed. The only sound was that of the forest and the soft, single note of Ithilwen's voice. The Court Mage was guiding them, gently nudging their minds back on track when she sensed them straying too far and exhausting themselves.

It was early in the day, just when the sun was peeking over the horizon. The time of the year was fall and the early morning temperatures were biting, though this could bother Ithilwen any less. She rose and dropped her temperature to her liking, she would teach her apprentice this later. The circle of young vessels shivered and tried to still their chattering teeth. Not only was the task given to them difficult, but their master had made them come out in numbing cold. They continued to chatter and shiver, their collective consciousness wavering and weak, until Ithilwen finally sighed. "I am assisting more than necessary already. I will not also tell you how to warm yourself. Fix this problem so that we may continue. I will give you five minutes."

The circle of 16 broke and the peace of the forest was broken by the bumble of the Chosen scrabbling for items to make a fire. Ithilwen's third eye rolled as she summoned a book and began reading.

Winielle's insistent snoring was cut short when she felt a book hit her in the face. She had woken up with a start, yelping loudly and nearly falling from the bed. "Who?!? Wazza...! Huh..?" She'd looked around, only to see Ithilwen in the doorway, fully garbed in her purple cloak.
It is the day.
She had said in her monotonous voice before turning and drifting away. The book that was now half open on the floor, was subjected on noses. The page it had fallen open to was snoring.

An hour and a half later, Winielle found herself meeting the whispered Chosen. A group of young individuals who had been rigorously trained by Ithilwen in order to magically assist Zenith during the Cold War. They were all different shapes, sizes, genders, colors, and even species, but they all had a black and simply designed third eye on their foreheads. It was more of a tattoo that showed what group they were in. Winielle had been greeted with incredible warmth from the 15 Chosen. They had touched at her horns and quizzed her on her realm. It was like being a child again and she loved it! 15 friends in a matter of moments! The little party quickly concluded at the sound of a high tone, a tone that the Chosen had come to associate with Ithilwen, their Master's summons. She made them circle up and link hands while explaining to them their task. They were to create a barrier around a portion of the Zenithian woods in order to keep the Zenith Folk safe during the Fall Festival! They all had whispered excitedly at the prospect of such a respected task but never guessed how hard it could be.

Now they were all scrabbling for items to make a giant bonfire and Winielle was being tugged along, not that she minded. She bounded off to join them, assisting them with her powers where they asked. In no time, the stones, kindle and wood was set. All that was left was for a Brown skinned female to light it with an elemental ball of flame. She then tended the fire for a few more moments until it was eating away at the fuel. Then they all circled up and cast their mind out again, the fire's warmth helping them focus.

Ithilwen watched her Chosen, and Winielle, link up again, watching how the fire warmed them almost immediately. She sent away her book, it vanishing into thin air as she stood and entered their circle. she began drifting around them, doing what she did before. She gently nudged their minds on track, or gave them minuscule hints to finding their way. This quiet, cult like activity continued until a Blue skinned male with a single horn sprouting from his forehead gasped and shuddered. Then it was a domino effect as the rest of them had their own reactions. "Excellent. Now. Create the barrier. Build it. Imagine every stone and every wall. Make it strong. Assist each-other." she plainly told them, while continuing to walk around their circle. Her set of eyes were closed, leaving her third eye open so that she could see what they were all working on. She nodded in approval and helped where needed.

The Land Hums
Ithilwen & Her Water Student


Long ago during the reign of King Yeibold, Zenith's 6th king, a young woman with three red eyes introduced herself to the kingdom. Within 3 days she could be found routinely feeding the stray cats of Zenith or meditating near the sea, in the forest, and in large gardens. All of her eyes would be closed and she would run her hands along the earth.
After 2 weeks, novice scholars, thinkers, conspiracists and the like would leave their activity groups with a feeling of enlightment or a look of embarassment. She would spend her time in the city squares displaying her skills with magic. Not for coin, but just to see the glow in the people's eyes and the smiles on the children's faces.
When a month had passed she had successfully read straight through 3 whole bookcases in the prestigious Zenithian Library and would be caught stroking and petting the feline ears of the Librarian himself. Lines would form around her whenever she dared to be still in public areas. They brimmed with mothers and fathers urging their children to the beautiful Triclops who's smile was as big as her dark hair was long, and who would happily heal their ailments for nothing in return.
The coffee-skinned female had a name for herself as fast as the moon went through its cycle. She was called a Gypsie, She of Many Eyes, Starfruit, and many more names. But her actual name was Ithilwen and she'd come to Zenith for its culture and its library.

Over time, after much begging, stalking, and prodding from aspiring magic-users and scholars, Ithilwen finally broke and began taking on students. It mattered to none that she was only in her early twenties. Triclops aged slower than averge anyhow.

Sometimes Ithilwen would visit houses during the morning, hold demonstrations in seated gardens in the afternoons and spend her nights reading in the Library or listen to the librarian tell her things. The order of events was subject to change, or not happen at all. She still enjoyed time to herself.

Soon though, Ithilwen recieved her first Element Whisperer. It was a girl with beige skin, large green eyes and bluntly cut hair. Her name was Emut. The girl was frustrated. After taking to Water Whispering so easily and advancing with such promise, she had hit a rock of sorts and could not seem to progress any further. No matter how hard she studied, reviewed, or practiced, the water would no longer listen to her.
During the first week of lessons, Ithilwen simply ordered her to call to the water and when she would fail, the liquid splashing to her feet after trembling above her hands, Ithilwen made her do it again. It frustrated her pupil to no end.

Emut would focus all of her senses, perfect her stance and relax her hands. But again and again she wound up wet, watched the water deny her, or struggled to make it take shape. And there, sitting in her crosslegged position with all three of her eyes watching was her Teacher. But how could she call her a teacher? All she did was tell her to do something she knew good and well she couldn't do, and quietly sit there, judging her, when she indeed failed. Besides these moments, at the start and end of class, or when they took a break to eat and drink, she was lively and full of philosophical questions. She would play in the sand or squat down in the water, luring fish to her wiggling toes while biting into whatever food she had suspened in the air beside her mouth.



The sun was lazily making its way towards the middle of a slightly purple sky. Clouds were thin, wispy, and moved slowly across the blue canvas. There was a gentle spring breeze, carrying warm air and the smell of fish being hauled in by the men down at the port. It was early in the day so not many people were on the beach besides the fishermen, and maybe a few people out to enjoy the warm sunrise. Besides those beings, two young women were sitting in the sand close to the lazily lapping water of the sea. One was sitting and observing the standing female make fluid motions with her arms.

Emut inhaled deeply, held it, and then released it through gently pursed lips. She wiggled her toes in the cool sand and slowly flexed her hands in front of her breasts, a motion that made it seem like she were about to grab something tricky, Her eyes were closed and her form relaxed. After a few more inhales and exhales, she paused. Then, in a beat, she began something that looked like dancing. She swayed, turned and moved her legs and arms in fluid motions. Her feet were gliding over and through the sand while she circled her wrists and moved her fingers all while gesturing to the sea. When she would gesture to the sea, it would shudder and shyly rise to her prompting. Emut inhaled and moved more, furrowing her brows as she started to not gesture at the sea, but point and call to it. The water gurgled and would rise up but then drop back down. Exhaling sharply, Emut lifted her arms and-

"Stop." Ithilwen said firmly, watching Emut drop her arms and hunch over while panting. "Are you a Water Whisper or an Earth Whisper?" She said while standing, dusting sand off of her butt. She was wearing some velvety, royal blue top that hugged her breasts and formed a turle neck. It's sleeves only graced her shoulders. On her legs were something like cargo-shorts but more feminized and with many more pockets, they were burgundy in color. Her hair wisped near the small of her back in soft, dark brown curls. She didn't wear shoes.

"I'm trying! It just.. It's like it's afraid of me!" Emut whined, still hunched over but her attention on her Teacher.

Ithilwen shook her head and smiled gently. "Water is very soft yes? Wet?" She grinned "But it's not a rock or a pickaxe or a sack of butter. When you Whisper to it, you're not commanding it, you're forming a partnership." She said while approaching Emut with her hands on top of her head. "I've been watching you all week. What you're problem is, is that you are seeking to control something that cannot truly be controlled. Water is alive just as much as you or me. Would you like someone to come along, grab you by the neck, and force you to gyrate?!" She threw her arms out before dropping them and shaking her head.

Emut stood up straight and listened, wanting to understand.

"Your movements are perfect, truly. Yet, even when you relax and do that little breathing excersise, you're still tense. Give yourself to the water. Whisper as if you are seeking the water not for your own selfish will, but to spend some time with it." Ithilwen gave a low nod and slowly stepped back.

Emut watched her for a bit before looking down at her own hands as she flexed them. Then, she slowly started repeating her movements from earlier. This time, the water did not respond at all. Emut tried moving in more fluid motions, whispering louder, or focusing on one spot, but nothing happend. Soon, she stopped and simply stared out at the sea with her brows low and her breath coming in small gasps.

There was a long silence as Ithilwen rubbed her chin and gazed through her pupil. Then she perked up and bounced over "Do you even know how to dance?" She grinned, her hands flexing at her sides.

Emut squint her eyes and turned to look at Ithilwen as if she were trying to make another stupid joke. They'd been rolling in all of last week whenever they sat down for lunch and Emut was just about sick of them. They were only funny to her. "If this is another one of those dumb jokes.." She started

Ithilwen sputtered and laughed, remembering one of her jokes from last week. "Oh..huhuh..~ No!" She rubbed her cheek and let her smile fade some before coming back "As much as I wish it was, it's not! I'm serious. I must take you dancing! We'll take a break from this and we'll go dancing, okay?"

Emut's mouth opened and closed in an effort to object. But Ithilwen put her finger on her lips.

"Ssshhhh. I am the teacher and I know best..~ Tomorrow night! In the Pink and Blue Villa! A good friend of mine is aspiring to be a bartender. He's been spreading word to everyone so everyone will be there." Ithilwen shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. But it was, and she'd been excited for this bash for over a week. "I'm gonna teach you how to dance." She said with finality. Then, with a wave, she hummed, hopped and swayed away.

Emut sighed and slowly sat down in the sand while rubbing her temples.

The Pink and Blue Villa was alive with Zenithian nightlife. The area was large, grassy, and walled so that its guests were contained. There were bars and seating sections set up everywhere and like any party there was a main mass of bodies that moved to the low but skin tingling music. Trees were dotted along the walls, shimmering with glowing insects and blooming with luminescent flowers. The party was alive with color and a range of emotions. Beings could be seen stumbling and giggling with intoxication, preoccupied with another in secluded corners, or absorbed in the bass of the music.

Emut gulped at the entrance to the Villa before glancing over at the horizon. The sun was long gone. Usually she would be home, settled into a cup of sweet tea, relaxing, and enjoying time with her family. But not tonight. Tonight she was scantily dressed(at the prompting of Ithilwen) and nervous at the sudden change in routine. "How can someone so skilled in all things magic indulge themselves in things like this..?" Emut mumbled to herself while taking her first steps toward the mass of dancing people. She felt that Ithilwen would be right at the center of it. "She should be home.." Emut whispered to herself as she breached the crowd and had to almost fight her way through, her cheeks staining red as hands and body parts brushed her numerous times. Then, a blue skinned being turned to her and grabbed her hand to spin her this way and that before letting her go while chuckling happily. Emut teetered to a stop while trembling and hugging her hand to her chest "Studying.." She breathed.

"Emut!" came a familiar voice from the crowd. She spun and turned to meet the voice only to see a flurry of hands and three wide eyes. She was embraced, tightly and then held at arms length by her shoulders. It was a grinning and flushed Ithilwen
"You came! I thought you wouldn't!" She laughed, seeming breathless. "Do you like it?" her eyes widened eagerly and she bounced on her toes while her hips kept swaying to the beat.

Emut, her senses swirling from everything going on, furrowed her brows and looked her Master up and down. A blush crossed her face. Ithilwen was barely dressed. One wrong move and.. she dragged her gaze back up to three shimmering eyes "Uuuhhm.. It's nice..! A-a little skimpy for my tastes but.." She was interrupted by her Master's bubbling laughter.

"No! The party! Do you like the party?!" With a flick, Ithilwen turned her student around and hugged her inappropriately close. "It's beautiful isn't it? So many people enjoying themselves!" She noticed how tense Emut was but ignored it, continuing to bop to the low music and gaze at the people enjoying themselves.

There was a long lapse between shared words. Then Emut squirmed out of Ithilwen's hold and turned to face her "So! I'm here to learn right? Let's get to it then shall we?" She smiled an uncomfortable smile.

"Oh! Yes! Dance!" The female triclops snatched Emut's hand and pulled her close before sling-shotting her into a group of dancing peoples while she stuck close behind.

Ithilwen sang and danced and twirled Emut, encouraging her to let go.
"Let go..! And don't try to Let go! Just.. Let go! Feel it! You have to feel!" She would say in bits and snippets.
Emut was spun and twirled, dipped and hugged. It was extremely uncomfortable for her but after a while, her shoulders grew tired from being so tense and her feet started to her from trying to anchor herself in one spot. So out of exhaustion, she stopped caring and let herself be taken. Then, in her third hour of being at the party, she was giggling and dancing. She held hands with Ithilwen and warmed at the eager approval in all of her eyes.
"Yes! I see you, flower! Bloom!" Ithilwen grinned while swirling around her.




Emut grinned. She bounced. She was breathless. She felt weightless.

"Whenever you're ready you can start.."

The sun peeked over the horizon and gulls cried while gliding over the shallow waters. The sky was purple and blue, detailing what time of day it was.
Ithilwen sat on a sand dune with her legs crossed and her hands gently holding her ankles. All three of her eyes were trained on her student, Emut, who was breathing in and out with her eyes closed and her palms facing the sky.

The Triclop's eyes fluttered in annoyance. "Emut. Enough of that. Let go.

Emut winced and glanced at her teacher. "Sorry.." She murmured while sheepishly puling her gaze away. "Habit.." She said to herself in a low voice. Then, standing up straight, she shook herself out and sighed while gazing out at the ocean.
...
...
...
Inhaling, Emut began to move. She slowly turned on the spot and made waves and circles with her arms. She pushed left, right, diagonally and forward while gently rolling her head. The water in front of her purred and jumped when she moved. It curled and rose as she swayed her arms and turned her fingers. And as Emut progressed through her dance, the water danced through the air as if entranced with her, eager to follow her will.
Emut herself grinned and laughed breathlessly, her eyes wide as she gazed at the water that moved to her signals. She felt as if a weight was lifting off of her mind, and restraints were being pulled from her arms.

Ithilwen grinned and watched as her student squealed happily and began dancing and twirling along the beach, the water twining through her fingers and curling around her arms.

"There you are flower.. I see you bloom.."