***note this takes place many years ago
The Annual Elvish Battles. In Kloredell there is a yearly match, or rather ten matches, among the elves. There are ten arenas each with about 50 participants, fighters and mages mixed, each in an every-man-for-themselves death match. High mages resurrect the fallen quickly and remove them from the arena. Each arena is a couple acres in area across specific terrain. This year, Masoj Foret is the oldest one can be to participate in the event, 15 years of age. While coming close to become one of the ten champions twice in the past, he has never actually won a match.
Masoj recalls the his talk with his father prior to his second year of school.
“Son, you must decide where you want to concentrate your studies. Do you wish to train with weaponry or magic. Which weapon will you specialize in or which ways of magic will you focus on?”
Masoj has already thought about this question for some time. He knows that even mages get training in weaponry in between magic classes. He thought about all of his courses he took, experimenting in every subject of training. Every week, he couldn’t wait to go to his azure and red way basic training classes. He decided to concentrate on those two ways. He chose the axe as the weapon he will specialize in during the brief classes on melee combat.
“I want to concentrate on the azure and red way,” stated Masoj, “but I want to become efficient with the use of axes like you.”
That was the day that shaped Masoj’s life the most up to this point in time, and he knew it.
“Masoj Foret,” called the Battle Director from a high podium, “to the Forest Arena.”
Masoj walked the great distance to where he was to fight. In front of him was a large, thick forest. He knew he best performed in the wood, but also knew that some students have died in this arena because it is so easy for a high mage to miss a fallen student in the thicket. He walked into the woods, admiring his two battle axes on the way in. The match had not started yet, but he knew from prior experience that in order to win he had to know the arena as best he could. He quickly walked around the perimeter, and wandered inward a bit here and there. Then he heard the familiar booming voice from above:
“Let the games begin!”
Masoj quickly scanned the area for nearby foes, and saw none. He crouched down and and moved quietly. Suddenly he saw a young student foolishly charging at him with two swords from his right. Masoj smirked as the student’s blades fell upon Masoj’s axes. They mingled attack sequences briefly, until Masoj decided to finish him off. He looked into his adversary’s eyes and controlled him with his mind, forcing the naïve student to stab himself. His body then floats up above the woods to a levitating elder and is revived.
“All too easy.”
Masoj moved from the area quickly so anyone who heard would not find him there. Moving slowly, he spots a mage about his age sneaking around, unaware of his presence. Masoj mutters a quick incantation and his right axe becomes ablaze. Masoj eyes his target and throws the axe at him, guiding it with his mind into the back of the neck, dropping him instantly. Masoj quickly goes to retrieve his weapon and sees two fighters clashing weapons. The sound of metal on metal is sure to bring others to his location. The left student kicks the right to the ground and seems to surely have victory, but the grounded student, a year or two older, performs a miraculous recovery, rolling to the side and spinning as he quickly shot up to his feet, blades outward, and ending in a neutral stance with his opponent. Masoj shoots a fireball at them and blows them against a boulder. Then he takes a moment to mutter a longer incantation and both the fighters are enveloped in a pillar of fire.
Masoj runs quickly away from the scene in hopes no one else spotted him. However, in doing so he stumbles over a tripline and falls to the ground. Knowing that this is how he lost last year, he quickly summons an invisible force field for a few seconds just in time to block two arrows. He rolls over and blasts a large fireball in the direction the arrows came from, and spots his pursuer leaping down from a branch. The tall, lanky elf nocks another arrow. Masoj quickly waves his hand across his body as he gets up, causing the archer’s bow to move to the side and miss the target widely. The archer drops the bow and equips two daggers and charges with great speed at Masoj, who immediately mutters a single word and is consumed by flames. Masoj moves his axes to block the dagger strikes with the speed and fury of a wild fire. Knowing his enemy is still moving too fast, Masoj teleports ten feet away, a spell taught to him by his mother. Masoj sends out a fireball, but the elf dodged the projectile with his great agility. However, Masoj expected this and sends out a shockwave from him, toppling his opponent, followed by an incantation summoning a well placed meteor onto his foe, cracking his spine.
Masoj looks up and listens for an elder to announce this arena is over, but hears none, and knows that this fight is taking longer than usual. He knows there must only be one person left. He takes a minute to recover and then starts on his feet. He then experiences a strange feeling. He notices his feet are off the ground and he feels weightless. Then he notices his body is being flung into a nearby tree. He slams into the tree with his back and falls to the ground. He stands up slowly and then feels a sharp pain in his stomach. He leans forward and spits out blood. Looking around wildly he spots a dark figure about twenty feet away in the midst of casting a final spell on him. Masoj punches with his fist and watches the mage cower forward. Masoj whispers a phrase “Blaze of Adrenaline,” and gains the energy to stand up. Masoj shoots his hand forward again, but the enemy mage does the same, canceling his magic. His foe, stepping forward, summons a ball of darkness in his hand and shoots it at Masoj followed by a continuous black stream. Masoj shoots out a stream of fire with his right hand. Both magic streams meet and explode between the two. The streams of magic interlocked with each other, Masoj slightly closes his right fist slightly and opens it back up to create a ball of fire traveling down the stream, but it has little effect.
Then, Masoj’s head spins in circles. The enemy’s stream of darkness is getting closer as Masoj is unable to concentrate on what he is doing. Masoj realizes the dark mage is getting in his head. He finally musters enough energy to send a pulse back into his foe’s mind, just before he would be consumed by the darkness. The mage, becoming unsteady, is forced to take a step back to regain his balance. Masoj quickly unleashes a fireball with his left hand, which hits the mage and blasts him across into a tree. Masoj’s stream of fire finds its way into the stomach of his greatest match yet and explodes. Masoj watches as the mage falls face first into the ground, takes out and axe and gets ready to throw it at his victim, but stops short after noticing his body begin to levitate off the ground. He watches as the corpse rises up above the arena.
A loud voice shouts out, “Winner of the forest realm: Masoj Foret!”
Masoj feels his body being lifted up above the woods. He is moved by the Archlord of Professors to a high podium next to the 9 other winners. Looking around he sees many people: friends, family, and enemies. All of whom are cheering for him alongside the other nine champions.
