The Unorthodox Being

The Voice

5 years have passed. As I was feeling good I decided to post an extra chapter.

As the Knight awaited the decision of the Host, Avlon's eyes became unfocused, he was unaware of Mariam and Robson's bodies reforming as the voice from earlier occupied his thoughts. " How did they come back to life? " whispered a child. Although some shushed the child, another answered, It is because the arena is embedded with life-forming cores, from Longevity Beasts on the other continents. A formation was created allowing the recreation and replication of life even after someone has died. The operation and or activation of this process is controlled by the owner of the arena. The accuracy (ability to complete the process, without leaving internal or external blemishes or any missing memories.), the speed of the process, and how long or often the formation can operate, are determined by the strength of the Life Forming Cores and the inscribed formation. Avlon was shaken out of his daze when Barax called out to him. The winner is MARIAMMMMM!!! screamed the host, as Avlon turned to look in Barax's direction, he gestured to the arena and began to walk that way. Setting his gaze on Robson, a male 11 years of age, 5'1 in height, and relatively handsome with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a smooth jawline, Avlon said "You shouldn't have committed so much to that strike Robson, you ended up overextending.". Robson looked at Avlon, a classmate he hadn't spoken to once. "What do you know? You only play around with Archery and Knife combat, swords are different." Avlon scoffed at Robson's remark before looking at Mariam, who Barax was talking to. She was beautiful, with long auburn hair, blue eyes, an oval face, smooth eyebrows, and plump-red lips, It was someone you wouldn't expect to be drawing blood. Mariam was 10 and was still growing, surely into something lovelier. "My name is Avlon, son of Grim." Mariam looked at Avlon and sized him up before responding, "My name is Mariam daughter of Bravem". Her voice was pleasant to the ears, something I commented on, however, this seemed to be only Alvon's and Barax's opinion as Robson seemed less inclined. Scoffing, Robson said "What is so special about you anyway, your.." Robson trailed off as he saw the headmaster looking at him with a stiff smile. "Goodbye to you." With one last vengeful stare at Mariam, Robson walked away leaving Alvon, Barax, and Mariam to chat. Barax looking at Robson's departing figure, was amused and said "He seems quite sour about the loss." Barax the only named (means to have a surname) child took control of the conversation by suggesting the group tours other fights and competitions occurring. Five hours later it was announced that whoever signed up for the Ranged events should report to the shooting range. Looking at Mariam she nods, accepting our company. On our walk to the arena only fifteen minutes away, we enjoyed some food bought from a passing vendor. On arrival, there was already a crowd forming as the event drew a larger crowd as the day progressed.
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Ten minutes into the event Barax stepped up to shoot, readying his bow he drew a full moon before firing his first arrow. Five minutes into the session, Barax held a solid score of 70 points, placing him in second place. He was 20 points behind first and with five shots left, Barax fired, hitting three of the five targets he aimed for bringing him to 75 points. This was just 15 points short of a tie, the overseeing Range-master(one who has mastered more than five ranged techniques) asked Barax if he would like to attempt an aura shot. If he successfully executes the aura binding and hits the target, he will be awarded 19 points, more than enough to claim first. Calming his breath, Barax remembered the teaching of his father while drawing his bow, a red-haired man with a wild and barbaric look watched on, his scarred face tense. The bow resembled a beautiful full moon drawn, and as Barax readied the arrow he took a deep breath, and an aura similar to that of a wild animal, filled the air. It slowly collected into the arrow, low thrumming was heard, as the arrow gained a red tint. Released with a flash, a bright red streak followed the arrow as it blasted a target. The deafening silence was broken by a resounding cheer, pride bloomed on Barax and his father's face. He had done it and secured 1st place, it was a great achievement for Barax as it solidified the supremacy of House Vermont at ranged weapons. "I did it!!" Barax exclaimed. "You sure did" Barax turned around to see his father Raxan Vermont of The family of Vermont.
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As they finished speaking Mariam wished Alvon good luck, responding with a nod, he walked up to the range. He drew his bow with a deep breath and an aura filled the air. Alvon's bow and arrow trembled, everyone stopped speaking as they watched a hazy figure form from the dense aura. With a roar of the wind, Windbreaker shot arrows in rapid succession, as fast as he could notch them arrows flew, and before one even blinked over 20 arrows were fired. Raking in a score of 80 points with 10 shots remaining, the crowd was thoroughly shocked. Without wasting a moment, Avlon proceeded, firing nine of the remaining shots to gain 90 points and take second. Though all this was a special showing the best shot had yet to arrive, and so with his last shot, a hazy figure solidified from his aura momentarily to reveal a startling figure. All of it was then absorbed by the arrow, and the experts there wondered what would it feel like, to be on the other end of that arrow. Thunderous roars of wind spread through the range as if Gusttra the god of wind was angered. The arrow flew toward the target with a bright streak of colour alternating between black and grey. Colliding with the target, a bang resounded, shaking the arena. Everyone stared at the pulsing arrow within the dust cloud, its disintegration happened almost immediately after contact. A man of thin stature stood in a long coat with the hood over his head, "That arrow didn't disintegrate because of the power, it was because it was made entirely of energy and as such it lost its form." Coming to this conclusion the man walked away to a carriage, as he took one last glance at Alvon he spoke one simple phrase "Umbratine, creation, and destruction."