This story belongs to me and my creative mind. However, most of the characters, names, and places all belong to their respective companies, so don't yell at me for copyright infringements! Remember, Italics represent a person's thoughts or the telling of past events.

Enjoy...

:Faraway Dreams:

Chapter Four:

Fedrich's mouth had the consistency of wet dirt as he murmured to himself. "The sandman wasn't being kind last night."

He leaned up from the bed, muscles tense and his bruised torso still echoing the pains from yesterday. Shoving the sheets aside, he swiveled his legs out and stood up, arms limp and hair matted against his scalp. Taking a few slow steps to the dresser, fingers fumbled through his vest pockets until he procured a potion. Uncorking the small vial, he swigged the bitter liquid and rolled it around his tongue to lessen the dryness before swallowing it in a gulp. Hopefully, he wished, the potion would ease the residual pain and let him fight today's trials at his best.

"Goddess, what time is it?" Fedrich rooted through his vest again and pulled out his pocketwatch, the hands revealing that it was a little before six 'o clock. A groan came from his throat as he replaced the timepiece. "Only an hour..."

Stripping off his sleeping shorts, he donned his working pants and tied on the wraps for his feet. Shifting his shoulders, he slid on his normal green vest and then his mythril woven vest for the added protection. Snapping on his two necklaces, tying on two more wraps to supports his wrists, then tugging his large brimmed hat over his ears completed his appearance. He picked up his sword and tied it's scabbard to his belt, then left his bedroom and went to the front room of the Hall. As normal, the Regulators were gone, probably at the gate to the city and preparing for the patrol. Luckily there was still coffee leftover in the pot, so he poured himself a cup to rouse his body from sleep.

"It feels like weeks since I've gone out, but it's only been four days..." Fedrich took a seat on one of the thick wood chairs, slouching and sipping at the brew. "Four days, and two more to go..."

Silence answered his quiet thoughts, not that he expected a reply. A hand reached over and plucked an apple from a plate on the table, a small breakfast before he went out to a cafe and had something more filling. He took a few bites, savoring the tart flavors and the underlying sweetness. Taking only a few minutes more between the coffee and the apple, he discarded the core and set the mug near the wash basin, then left the Hall and closed the doors. Stretching again, feeling his joints give a satisfactory crack, he began jogging towards the Aircabs and to his destination at the castle courtyard.

..........

"You feeling good this morning?" Illis yawned.

"Better'n normal since you mention it. Why?" Gerick replied, glancing back at the dark clothed woman.

"Because I'm still feeling sore from yesterday. Having to do twice the work as normal is starting to wear me out."

"Oh?" He arched an eyebrow. "I guess your starting 'ta get rusty. You remember when it was just us 'an Gordan on the field, right? That was for almost a year and you did just fine."

Illis harumffed. "It's not like that was ever easy. Besides, the monsters are more powerful and numerous these days."

"I suppose you got a point, but we're still goin' out."

Illis growled, crossing her arms. Ruthy looked at her sister momentarily, then to Gerick. "Aren't you worried?"

"Nope." He replied with a grin. "Can't let fear get the better of me."

"But what if we run into trouble? Isn't it risky to go out, just us three?"

"How? We haven't lost a fight yet!"

"Don't you remember? Fedrich was worried about us being outnumbered too greatly last time he was with us! Didn't you say that the Vice's are gathering again? What if we run into them?"

Gerick looked back again, adjusting the weight of his hammer across his shoulders. "Then we go after 'em and kill them all in one sweep."

Ruthy's face whitened. "All of them?"

"Now that it's just us, we've gotta give it everything we have. No more playing games with them, it's all or nothing."

Illis snorted. "More like win or die."

"Enough, Illis!" Gerick shouted, startling the woman. "All it's been outta your mouth is why this and why that, too hard and too much work! What in hells name happened to you? What changed you into this whiny little brat?"

Illis' eyes hardened at his accusations. "What's happened to me is that you're starting to go off on patrols with no damn sense about you! When it was the four of us we could take on enemies easy, and Fedrich made it even simpler. Now it's us three, the monsters are more dangerous than ever, and you still give us the same odds as usual. What's happened to me indeed! What happened to you that made you blind and stupid!?"

Gerick stopped walking, then turned to face the woman while allowing his battle hammer to slide to the earth as a support. Illis followed suit, hands on her hips and her chin tilted up in defiance. Ruthy kept her distance, worried eyes flicking between her sister and her elder leader.

"Are you sayin' that I'm not fit for command?" He asked, temping her into stepping over that line.

"What if I am?" She posed, shifting her weight from one leg to another. "This isn't the military, Gerick, I'm free as the next person to say what I think."

"I know, but insulting my methods isn't somethin' I'd let slide."

"And what would you do about it?" She avoided answering the question, hoping to force the man to see her side before saying something she would regret.

Gerick remained silent a long moment. His fingers scratched his beard, good-natured smile absent and replaced with a grim expression that he constantly bore while in the Guards. He ceased stroking his facial hair, lowering his hand slightly. "I'd ask you to leave and not bother returnin'."

"No!" Ruthy cried out, running to her sister and grabbing her shoulder. "Don't say it, sis, don't leave just because he said he would!"

"And why shouldn't I?" Illis looked down at Ruthy, expression still just as harsh.

"Because...Gerick's right, and you are, too!" She took a breath. "We can still go out and patrol the city wall, even if it is dangerous. We could hide in the hills if we see any group of monsters too big for us to take." She then looked at Gerick, the elder man's expression unreadable. "I agree with Illis, it is a big risk if we go out with just us three. I'm tired and so is she, and I bet you're just as sore but too prideful to admit it."

"I'm in perfect shape to go on the patrol." Gerick reiterated.

"Then you'll be going alone!" Illis shot at her leader.

"Stop it!" Ruthy screamed, catching both their eyes. "Stop fighting!" Collecting herself for a moment, she stood tall and stared at Gerick, meeting his eyes. "Gerick, it's too risky to go as we are. You'll end up patrolling alone if you go, so unless you want Illis and I to leave, then we're going to meet with Captain Cecil and get some help with the patrol."

Gerick, flustered, grinned weakly. "Now look, we-"

"Are you going alone or are we going to meet with Cecil?" Ruthy repeated forcefully, giving the older man a start.

His mouth gaped, trying to work out words. After several seconds, mind racing and his eyes darting here and there, he growled and swung his hammer over his shoulders, walking back inside the city walls. Ruthy smiled, then winked at her sister as she moved to catch up with him. Illis remained still for a moment, stunned by her sister's outburst.

She was able to make Gerick change his mind about the patrol! Damn, she did what I couldn't do after endless attempts! Something's changed her...she would never have done this a month ago, a week even!

Illis shook her head, then walked to follow the other two. "Gods help the person who crosses her now..."

..........

"Warrior Karst is down!" The judge announced, motioning to the victor. "Warrior Adagio wins the third round with a time of three minutes and fifty seconds!"

The group of warriors, much smaller since yesterday, applauded the efforts of the man as he descended and walked away, comrades slapping his back. Fedrich made a mental note to stay clear of the man's kicks less he receive a broken leg like his opponent. Healers assisted the wounded fighter off the platform, tears running down his face. The judge shuffled through a thick collection of papers, squinting at them.

"Numbers five hundred eighty three and thirty six! Warriors Fedrich and Saturos!" He called.

Fedrich flexed his fingers, walking through the crowd around the platform and jumping up. He went to the center, seeing his opponent was a man of average stature, bearing a flail with an extra long chain. The judge stepped in, pushing them to five paces distance between each other. Satisfied, he looked between them and lifted a hand.

"Alright, engage!" He dropped his hand, scurrying back.

Fedrich stepped forward and drew his sword, but the man's flail snapped to life and nearly hit his head. He skipped back, Saturos spinning his flail above his head to create a solid defense from any position around him.

"Ha ha! You can't attack without getting smashed to a pulp!" The man laughed, spinning the weapon even faster.

Fedrich growled, recalling seeing a previous bout with this man and another armed with a sword. All that Saturos did was spin his flail, striking the man as he tested the weapon and winning by default once five minutes was up. He worked purely on defense and was willing to let the clock decide the battle.

Damn...I don't know how to get past the flail and strike without getting tangled up in the chain! There's got to be some way I can cut it or attack from a distance...

"Going to stay put? Good, then hold still!"

Fedrich paled as the man adjusted the spin of the flail, seeing it arc up and come down like a falling rock off a cliff. The Burman jumped to the side, the spiked ball smashing through the wood platform. Yanking it, he started spinning it around again while holding his ground. Fedrich remained just short of the weapon, forced to a stalemate as he couldn't risk life or his weapon to a blind attack. Either his arm would be broke or his new sword would shatter, neither a desirable outcome.

How can I get through to him!?

...attacking while they are readying a spell...

Fedrich's expression lit up, the sudden memory of the dream offering a solution to his seemingly perfect strategy. Grinning, he lifted his arms and laughed. "Come on! You want to win? Then come and attack me instead of swinging that toy like a coward! Take a shot at me! I'll even stand still to make it easy on you!"

Saturos frowned. "No one insults me, bastard rat! Die!"

The man swung his flail up and sent it sailing for Fedrich's head. The Burman, defying expectation, ducked to his side again and dodged the head of the weapon. Clawed feet scratching into the wood for grip, he ran forward and lashed out violently with his sword. The gleaming metal stuck the chain, and to the surprise of both warriors, cut clean through it and rendered the weapon useless. Saturos stood in mute shock, even as Fedrich landed next to him and jumped up, punching his jaw and sending the man into the sky with the force of the blow. Both landed, Fedrich on his feet and Saturos on his back, eyes rolled into his head. The judge quickly approached, and after checking his body, stood.

"Warrior Saturos has been defeated. The winner is Warrior Fedrich with a near record of one minute and ten seconds!"

The fighters remaining all applauded and cheered, rousted by the quick and decisive match. Fedrich descended to rest against the walls before leaving for another meal and a short nap. A few of the men he passed offered words of praise, slapping his shoulder or simply knocking fists together in a typical soldier's congratulations. Close to the doors of the courtyard was Flaure, the young girl simply offering a thumb's up that Fedrich returned along with a smile. Her battle was won in the record time of the Festival, fifty-nine seconds, and in a single move.

..........

"So how's Fedrich doing in the Festival?" Cecil asked.

"He won both times yesterday." Ruthy replied quickly, smiling at his success. "Now he's got two more trials today, and there's no chance he can lose!"

Cecil chuckled at her enthusiasm. "You're mighty confident in him."

"He's been training for this every day. There's just no one alive that can match his determination to win."

"Best wishes to him, then." He nodded, looking off into the field. "So how're things doing on your end, Gerick?"

"Ah, if it wasn't for the Vices bein' a nuisance, then it'd be great." The man replied on a sour note. "Plus I've got both ladies here staging protests about the patrols."

"They've got a point, you know, not even I'm gusty enough to go fight monsters with only two men as backup. It's just plain foolhardy to try, better to have numbers on your side than theirs." Cecil shrugged his shoulders, waving his hands out. "It's good that you're still willing to go it outnumbered, but not everyone's got your style of running the gauntlet every day."

"Bah, you're all getting soft, I say." Gerick scoffed, increasing his pace.

Cecil smiled at his attitude, looking to the two sisters and seeing them both with the same look.

The four continued the treck through the grasses around Lindblum's walls, reeds thinning out with the summer heat but still dominant over the landscape with the surplus of water in their roots. The sun was pouring all its energy onto the land, sitting nearly at midday with only a few puffy clouds to block it's view. Airship traffic was heavier than normal, an influx of people coming to the city to witness the Festival of the Hunt. The increase in people walking the streets in gaudy clothes and asking for directions made it even more apparent.

"Hey..." Illis muttered, slowing down. "Hey...! Up ahead!"

The others stopped quickly, weapons drawn as Illis pointed to a spot close to the Lindblum walls themselves. Dark figures, small but noticeable, were moving carefully along the massive stone barrier. Ruthy took a step closer, hand over her squinting eyes. After several seconds, she lowered her hand and shook her head in worry.

"Vices?" Illis asked.

A nod of red hair. "I could only see a dozen or so."

"There could be more, probably are." Illis frowned. "I say we leave them be."

Gerick snorted, starting to a jog. "Not this time, ladies, we strike and strike hard!"

"Leave 'em be, old man!" Cecil shouted to no avail.

"Either help me or let me run to my death, you two!" He shouted back.

Illis paused, gripping her hands and growling like a feral cat before striking out to a run. "He'll be the death of us, the bastard."

Ruthy hesitated only a moment before pursuing her sister, and Cecil followed suit with a heavy sigh.

The four made quick time, running up hillsides and skipping down the steep slopes of valley walls. The Vices didn't seem to notice their presence, continuing to walk alongside of the wall. Several minutes passed by, the Regulators all grouped together and waiting for the monsters to pass by.

"There's more than a dozen." Illis whispered to the others. "Two dozen or so..."

"Doesn't matter now." Gerick stood and hefted his battle hammer. "Let's go!"

The elder man and Illis stormed down the hill towards the Vices. Cecil and Ruthy followed along the top of the hill, waiting to sweep in on the monsters to split them apart. As soon as Gerick struck the first blow with his hammer, cracking apart the skull of the wiry creature, Cecil leapt down to assist.

"Keep up top and shoot the ones with staves!" He ordered. "Those cast magic, they have to go down first!"

"Right!" Ruthy nodded, stringing an arrow to her longbow and pulling it taught.

The Vices all stopped their patrol, immediately turning back and moving to swarm across the offending humans that struck them unaware. Swords rang out as they collided with one another, hisses and bellowed curses echoing off the nearby stone walls. Arrows rained onto the monsters, one every few seconds as Ruthy tried her utmost to stay accurate and take down as many targets as possible. Cecil jumped from the last rise of the hill and let gravity take his sword through the shoulder of a Vice, downing the monster in a clean cut. A sudden explosion of fire erupted across Gerick's position, scorching earth and flesh.

Damn! There's still more of them! Ruthy clenched her teeth, eyes trying to discern the Vices that held swords from the ones with staffs or wands. She let an arrow fly, the metal tipped projectile piercing through the chest of a Vice with a wood rod in its grip. There were nearly a dozen bodies already scattered on the field, but the redhead could see that the tides were starting to shift from their favor to that of the monsters.

"Just die!" Illis screamed, sword crashing down against the curved Vice's blade.

The creature hissed and chattered in reply to her outbursts, stabbing viciously with its sword. Illis managed to duck back, swinging again and managing to knock the blade from its grip. Rushing forward, she rammed the creature and sent it down, then ended its life with a quick stab to its neck. The warrioress then charged forward, engaging another Vice and getting a lucky shot that stripped it's fingers from the hilt of it's sword. Standing firm, she drew back and beheaded the creature as it's screeched in foreign pain and tried to pick it's sword up.

Illis suddenly found herself enveloped in an inferno, fires springing to life and ravaging her clothes, flesh, her every sense. She screamed out in agony, falling to the earth as her legs failed her. The flames died within a few seconds, but the burns and immense pain still pounded on her brain, leaving her helpless to move. Her clouded vision saw a Vice approach, sword held up and ready to finish her off. Before it could act, an arrow pierced it's skull and knocked it down. Legs appeared in front of her, dark brown boots and tanned pants, holding off the remaining Vices while shouting muted words at her. Gritting her teeth, she pushed through the pain to shove herself to a sitting position, sword still one with her hand. She saw as Gerick spun his hammer wildly, letting momentum and force knock the two last Vices off their feet long enough for Cecil to finish them. Hands gripped her shoulder, and a familiar face pressed itself to hers.

"Sis!" She called, voice muted beneath the roaring in her ears. "Sis, wake up! Say something!"

The two others came to her side, talking to her in deaf tones. Ruthy, at least the person who looked like her, pressed a bottle to her lips. Illis opened her mouth and let the potion slide down her throat, the bitter liquid starting to numb the pain across her body. The voices surrounding her started to clear up along with her vision, and she could tell that it was Ruthy tending to her injuries while Gerick and Cecil stood around.

"Sis, can't you hear me?" The redhead asked, voice clearer, piercing through the din in her ears.

"I'm...yes, I can." Illis replied, voice unsure.

Ruthy smiled, leaning forward to hug her sister. "Thank the Gods, you looked like death."

"She always looks like death." Gerick snapped in good humor.

"You, old fool..." She replied, a pained grin touching her face. "Look like a burnt piece of meat."

"Well, it looks like it was a good thing I came along!" Cecil interrupted, finishing wiping his blade clean of blood and sheathing it. "This was hard...those damned Vices are getting tougher to work over."

"Told you so, Gerick." Illis added, forcing her legs to unfurl and let her stand, Ruthy assisting. She glared at her leader, the elder man covered in similar burns and bruises, and licked her cracked lips. "We can't do this by ourselves anymore. Even with Cecil...we still took a beating worse than ever. We can't go on like this..."

"Feh...you're probably right." Gerick huffed, taking a potion from his vest and downing it. "But that doesn't mean we stop the patrols, we just bring on some new people and take it from there."

"If that's what it takes." She shrugged off Ruthy's hands, finally sheathing her sword. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she straightened her posture and shoved her hair back behind her ears. Despite feeling raw all over, she wasn't ready to surrender to the injury. "Now let's collect the spoils."

..........

Fedrich stretched his arms out, flexing the muscles to keep them loose and ready for his last fight, the deciding battle to see if he would become a Hunter or fail. The warriors around him were all murmuring to one another, mostly insults at the end of the current fight. The judge, with incredible patience, inspected each of the two warriors on the platform. Their fight had gone longer than five minutes, and as such, was being determined by who had delivered the most wounds to the other.

"Warrior Jamis has three notable injuries upon his body, and Warrior Lavian has four notable injuries. In accordance with the rules of the Festival, I hereby declare that Warrior Jamis is the winner of this battle! In accordance with the powers vested to me, I hereby declare that he is no longer a warrior, but a Hunter! Congratulations, Hunter Jamis Narayan, and welcome to the ranks of those worthy to take part in the Festival of the Hunt!"

The warriors offered weak applause, most of them jeering at the two for not being able to finish their duel quickly. Fedrich was surprised at the outcome, most warriors present now able to limit their duels to under two minutes. However, the two showed equal skill and ability, so a stalemate seemed all the more evident under the time limitations.

"Numbers five eighty three and seventy two, Warriors Fedrich and Flaure!" The judge called.

Fedrich's expression widened, fear clenching his chest at the sudden declaration. He knew Flaure was among the fighters present, and although he expected to fight her somewhere down the line in the Festival, it didn't lessen the blow. After watching the resounding battles that took place on the platform, now it was his turn to take part, and against the strongest of warriors present.

Shake it off, it's now or never. It's time to see where I stand against the legends...

Pushing the fear back below, he walked to the platform and jumped up, seeing Flaure present and waiting for him. In her hand was a sword, long and thin, covered in decorative patterns that made it look like an item for display. The judge approached and escorted them to their starting places, then sure that they were ready, stepped back and raised his arms up.

"Warriors, engage!"

Fedrich rushed forward and lashed out with his short sword, a move that Flaure easily blocked. He knew, from studying her fights as intently as he could, that she seemed to draw out the fight to measure her opponent's moves and plan her attack from there. Making the first strike was a means to testing both her reactions and the durability of her thin sword, being quick and strong enough to absorb a strong hit. He jumped back and waited for her to make the next move, sword up in a defensive position. The young girl started circling around the platform, Fedrich following suit to keep her at a distance.

"Testing me, then changing to a defense. You're expecting to lure me into this fight." Flaure commented, an arrogant smile tugging at her lips. "A decent strategy, surely based on your observations of my fights."

"I won't give you the chance to measure yourself up to me and find a weakness. You'll have to go in blind this time."

"Blind, you say? You speak as if I haven't studied your fights as well, seeing what strengths you lay claim to." She lifted her sword up, shifting her body sideways to lessen her profile. "Let us see, then, which of us has the advantage."

With a quick jump, the white clothed girl stabbed forward with her sword and forced Fedrich to duck to his side. The Burman's short sword moved to slap her blade away, but she drew it back, forcing a miss and an opening in his defense. With equal speed as before, she stabbed ahead and pierced Fedrich's shoulder with the tip of her sword. The Regulator growled in frustration and pain, backing off and returning to a safe distance. Flaure kept her grin, pointing her sword at him in a simple protective stand.

"Speed, agility, both attributes that Burmecians are above standard in ranking. However, it seems you lack the basic combination of those skills, reaction."

Fedrich remained silent, instead opting to attack directly again. His sword met her own blade, and he could feel the vibrations from the strike run along the metal. It clicked in his mind that her sword wasn't meant for direct combat, that it's primary goal was to deliver a killing strike unobstructed. If he could use that against her, he reasoned, then perhaps he could cause enough damage to the weapon to render it useless. Gathering his focus, he lashed out again and forced the girl to block the attack. Keeping up the offensive, he managed to force her back a step and bring concern to her expression. Her emotions broke through in anger, and Flaure had to circle around Fedrich's body to redirect the strike from his sword and allow her to gain distance from him.

"You don't seem all that willing to go on. Can't manage a fight on brute strength alone?" Fedrich taunted.

Flaure's forehead creased. "Bothersome nuisance. You wish to test your theory?"

Changing her stance, she lowered her sword and held it parallel to the ground, pointed behind her. A sudden outburst of light emanated from her body, tendrils of light moving as if alive across her torso and arms. The tendrils snaked to her sword, and it gained an unearthly glow like that of the sun.

"Below the earthen clay, a martyr's vengeance! Seraph's Rage!" She chanted, swinging her sword up and pointing it to the sky.

A rumbling began where Fedrich's feet stood, and an explosion of light shot into the sky right in front of his body. He screwed his eyes closed, but the blinding light still seared his vision. His body quaked in pain, it felt as if his fur was being burnt off his skin. Seconds later the light disappeared, and Fedrich nearly fell to his knees as pain wracked his legs and chest. He tried to open his eyes, but the effort was almost unbearable to do. It dawned on him why there were rumors about her being a match for General Beatrix, who else could summon that kind of an attack so easily?

"Mock those who are your superior, do you?" Flaure spoke in a haughty tone. "You types always believe that you have the right to say whatever you want to whomever you want. It takes measures like this to teach you where your place is. You should be thankful that I only let it graze you, a direct strike would have undoubtedly killed you."

"You arrogant child, don't try and force nobility into what it takes to be a warrior. Being of a noble family doesn't make you a superior warrior!"

"Two minutes!" The judge called, interrupting their words.

"I beg to differ. Without my position, I would never have attained a skilled style and technique as I possess."

Fedrich tried again to open his eyes, but he could only make out fuzzy shapes in a white haze. Flaure's position was barely viewable, but he managed to force his legs to step back slightly as she moved towards him. He lifted his arm, sword nearly a part of it, and hoped to bluff her into keeping a distance long enough for his eyes to clear up. Gordan's words from the previous day came to mind, and he forced a smile. "Knowing a technique only makes your skill sharper, but it's still sharp to begin with. Sharp enough, I say, to beat you!"

Flaure laughed, voice light and humored. "Words, Burmecian, mere words. Come, prove them to me if you believe it to be so."

Fedrich gritted his teeth, trying to focus his strength again and to ignore the pain. His grip on the sword felt as normal as possible, like it wasn't even necessary to think about it. For a moment he knew that the sword was as much a part of him as his hand would be, an extension of his strength. In that one moment, something in his mind clicked. Fedrich suddenly was aware of something that he could do, some kind of attack that seemed as natural as his practice routine. His eyes, almost recovered, drifted to the stain of the dragon on his sword. The image seemed to urge him on, like it was trying to remind him about something more that it could offer instead of just being a weapon. He looked up to Flaure, the girl staying put as she observed him and waited for his attack.

What is this? What is it that I remember now? It's like something just woke up, something that I've known about ever since I got this sword. Is this what he meant by blessed by dragons?

"Alright...I'll trust it..." He whispered to himself. "I'll do it. I'll win this fight!"

Following the sudden ingrained actions that he came upon, he shifted his feet and brought his sword up to rest against the tip of his muzzle. A stunning display of lights shone across the sword, spiraling around his body and falling into the surface of the sword. Whipping the blade out and then forward, foreign but familiar words rushed out from his lips along with a tremendous pull at his strength.

"Goddess of purity, bring about the Reaper's winds! Cherry Blossom Storm!"

Without warning, an ethereal spear appeared in the sky and fell to the earth at Flaure's feet. It glowed brightly for a second, then exploded in a mighty roar. Hundreds of objects, pink and red cherry blossoms, circled around her body and exploded in turn with violent and fiery heat. Flaure, stunned at the attack, screamed out in pain as the blossoms touched her body and exploded, the heat alone singing her exposed skin and clothes. Seconds passed by in agonizing slowness, but the display ended and the platform around her body appeared as if it was scorched by fire. Flaure herself was barely on her feet, loose clothes ruined and barely clinging to her body. The remaining warriors and the judge were all spellbound, mute to the incredible display they witnessed.

"What...in hell...did you do?" She wheezed, dropping to her hands and knees.

Fedrich, weakened by the immense strain of the attack, fell to one knee and tried to keep standing in that manner. The proper answer came as easily as knowledge of what he did. "A skill of the Dragon Knights, dragoon magic."

Growling like a wounded animal, Flaure forces herself to a shaky stand on her legs. Her eyes glared at him, inner anger lighting them like a fire. "I don't care...what tricks you have...or how you learned them. I will...defeat you!"

Fedrich's own anger came to surface, and he stood up and did his best to shake off the weariness that plagued his limbs. He raised his sword up, and Flaure did the same. With almost comic slowness, the two charged one another and attacked, locking swords together in a stalemate. Fedrich summoned a final push and brought Flaure's thin sword down, the tip hitting the platform. Moments later Flaure's hold on her sword failed, and the weapon clattered to the ground with an echoing result. The two stared at one another, not taking in the obvious result of her loss and his victory. Seconds later, Flaure shuddered and fell to the ground, expression still taught with anger.

The judge ran onto the platform and bent down to check on her, seeing that she was only unconscious. He nodded, then stood up and lifted his arms to gather the other's eyes. "Warrior Flaure has been defeated! Warrior Fedrich wins the fourth trial with a time of three minutes and forty eight seconds!" The judge stepped to Fedrich side, taking an arm and lifting it to the sky. "In accordance with the powers vested in me, this man shall no longer be known as a warrior, but as a Hunter! Congratulations, Hunter Fedrich Castor, in joining the ranks of those worthy to participate in the Festival of the Hunt!"