Half-Bloods R • 2 : Growing Shadows

C • 6 : Bubbles in Water, Webs in Leaves

They'd been training in the Root Eye for weeks without food, and with almost no water at all. His body was sore, his arms felt like they were about to slough off, his legs compared to water more than they did jelly at this point. His lungs were tight, and he could barely breathe as his heart sill slammed against his chest. He was drenched in blood and murky red water. Yet despite his sorry, drained state, his sister stood flawlessly before him, as if she had barely trained at all.

She looked at him, her pink irises glimmering in the moonlight, "We'll fight till you hit me at least three times. Even if it takes days or starves us, we'll push forward."

He nodded, thinking inward at one of the sixteen princes, the one he accidentally unlocked during his training.

"Prince of Gluttony, Vothel, chimeric form," a massive hole opened in his chest, revealing a pit of teeth and eyes as his skin turned black. His eyes darkened and his horns shortened as his hair turned to grey flames. His mouth was covered over by a layer of skin.

Villin watched him in silence and flicked her tails, signaling to start their battle.

He tore forward, his entire body aching as the ground shattered beneath him. He punched and slashed with arms while mana gathered in his palms. Villin blocked and deflected each attack with a single hand and line tail, never flinching, perfect as usual. He snarled in frustration, letting loose the mana he had gathered and creating a set of whips that he swung wildly with his four arms. Villin swiped away the attacks, striking the whips with her cord-like tails and backing away as Vaelan pushed forward. She deflected another two attacks and kicked Vaelan's side, almost making him puke.

He grabbed her leg and tossed her aside, smashing her against a tree, the sheer force of the attack forced him to stumble to the side. He grabbed his side where she hit him, gasping for breath.

"Doesn't count, brother!" Villin appeared next to him, kicking him on his other side and quickly stepping away before he could counter.

He fell to his knees and swung his left arm at her, she caught the attack by his wrist and crushed his arm into droplets of mana. It didn't hurt, it couldn't, but he still flinched nonetheless.

"I remember you fought much harder during the burning, brother!" She kicked his face and leaned down to whisper, "Where's the Vaelan that pummeled agents into literal pulp just for touching us?"

"We don't need that anger, it's too violent, too cruel. What we need is restraint, a concentrated and focused mind," he huffed.

"That's not what I've seen," she said, squatting down as he sat himself on his knees.

Vaelan turned his head up to her, "You had another vision?"

She place her hands against his face and her eyes turned pale white, all life leaving the orbs, "Look."

He saw a shattered, desolate city, lingering in black mist. Bodies lay beneath rubble and blood stained the concrete as a bloody figure stood tall above the fouls smelling massacre. The stench of blood and rot crawled into his nose and stung his eyes, the taste of death lingering on his tongue. Beneath the figure's feet sat three dead humanoids in white uniforms with masks covering their faces, a corpse with blonde and orange hair clawed at the figure's ankles. Black raindrops fell from the depressing grey sky above, the raindrops burned everything they landed on, adding pale steam to the black mist.

The figure turned its head toward Vaelan, it was him. A different and angrier Vaelan with blood and mana splattered on his face. His torn shirt revealed a massive chunk of his torso to be made up of mana, his arms were fully mana-made, and his right eye was gone. The expression that the other-him wore, it bore a silent rage that burned unlike any other, malice poured out of his empty eye socket. The other-him began huffing and puffing, before grabbing at his head and tearing his claws through the skin, before then releasing a painful scream. He radiated three intimidating auras, auras of hatred, death, and destruction.

The sixteen princes were controlling the other-him.

The vision stopped, he was once more in the forest with his sister. Barely a minute, maybe half, had passed.

"We need you to be stronger so that you don't lose control, so that city stays safe," Villin let go of him.

"Then let's get stronger-" he reached out his hand "-Let's go home."