FoH Part 2: Aspects

Selkie was not typically the nervous type. If anyone were to describe the Painted Satyr, the list of words might include things like elusive, collected, observant. But not nervous. Never nervous. Until, apparently, coming to Harara and deciding to take part in the competitions.

Why here, why now? They were good questions. They were not, however, questions Selkie was entirely sure that they could answer. The city itself was like a man made jungle, and more than once Selkie had become hopelessly lost in it. The hustle and bustle, the loud announcements from the screens… it set them on edge in a way they had never felt before.

Even here, in the middle of the casino, with the tingle of magic on their skin… it didn’t feel right. At least, they supposed, there was air conditioning here. Selkie had never really been fond of false environments like this, but… they had to admit that it was certainly better than the oppressive heat outside. That was one thing they knew, without a doubt, that they would never grow accustomed to, no matter how many times they experienced it.

Focus, Selkie, they reminded themselves, pulling themselves back out of their thoughts. It was so difficult to slow down the thoughts, here. They were almost louder than the crowd - though such a feat seemed truly impossible. The swelling crowd was still cheering after the last match, a wave of wordless noise that seemed to engulf the entire arena. If they were going to stand a chance here, they would have to find a way to drown it out, at least a little. How could anyone focus on magic with such a roar in their ears?

Selkie let their eyes drift across the arena once more, taking in its splendor - for it was magnificent in its own way, wasn’t? Even if it wasn’t the sort of beauty the Satyr preferred, it was difficult to deny. The polished stone floor sparkled in the light, and the pillars were carved so intricately - had Selkie not been a bundle of nerves and about to compete, they would have been drawn towards it to investigate those carvings further. Surely, with them as such a focal point, there had to be more to that intricacy than sheer aesthetics?

Focus. Again, they had let themselves be drawn into their thoughts. The entire purpose of scanning the arena was to try and locate the best spot, where the light could hit their creations just right… Selkie knew that this was the only competition they truly had the potential to emerge victorious in. They had never flown before, least of all on the back of one of those Sol Rocs, and they were not nearly as proficient in combat as they would have liked. But using aspects…? It was something Selkie had relied on in day to day life for a very long time now.

A memory sprung to mind, unbidden. Swimming beneath the depths of the ocean with Connie just behind them, dipping down towards the reefs they loved so much. A sound above them of another, submerging, and Selkie quickly shifting the water about them to coat them in an illusion. There was never any danger if one knew how to use their Illusion aspect properly.

And then… and then it was time.

Selkie had very little time to gather their thoughts before they were being ushered into the arena. Their time, it appeared, had come.

They had spent the previous days growing accustomed to Harara, as much as that was possible, and training for this particular event. Selkie was not foolish enough to believe that they were strong enough to win the competition, but they knew that they, at the very least, wouldn’t embarrass themselves in this one. And that… that would have to be enough to go on.

Here, in the center of the arena, the lights reached their zenith. For a moment Selkie was almost entirely blind under their glare. And then… the noise. At the sight of the next two contestants, the crowd burst into raucous applause once more. It was like the roar of a wave, sweeping across them. Deep breaths, now, Selkie, they told themselves, gaze sweeping across the crowd. Searching… and there! They’d have recognised that soft pink hair anywhere, those coral-like horns, the encouragement in her eyes… Connie had promised she’d attend the match, and she hadn’t let Selkie down.

Now it was their turn not to let her down.

And so it began.

Kalama had been training for a competition like this from a very young age. Her aspects were what she clung to, what kept her going, what made her who she was. Where would she have been without fire in her blood, after all? That was what her mother had said. She could still remember it. “My little Kalama has fire in her veins,” she would say as she watched her, a proud little smile on her face. “She must control it or it will eat her alive.”

Dancing on a starlit beach with fire in her hands and eyes was one thing. Competing for the Pharaoh… now that was something else entirely. Kamala had dedicated her time in Harara to pushing herself further than she ever had, ignoring the lure of the hotels and casinos and shiny things. She didn’t need the jingle of coins to keep her going. She had never needed that. All she really needed was a challenge.

And this was supposed to be the best of the best, wasn’t it? Was there a more perfect chance to show off, to prove herself? Kamala thought not. She had busied herself with stretching to prepare for her own bout, paying little mind to the match before her own. She didn’t need to see how others did it, because she wasn’t going to compete like the others. She grinned to herself as she raised her arms over her head, leaning back slightly before throwing herself forward to reach for her feet.

Just keep your movements graceful, she reminded herself. Footwork is always key.

The music from the speakers had dipped back down to a low point, something softer that would only build as the battle went on. A hush had fallen across the crowd, too, all eyes on the pair of contestants that graced the arena floor, analysing. Determining who they thought would win before either had done a thing. Now, what to focus on? Selkie had carefully observed the previous matches, watching the strategies employed by the other Painted Satyrs and Browbirds. There were a few options. Focus on one's own aspect creations, disrupt the other’s, or focus on the fight. The most successful so far, they had made note of, were the ones who tended to focus on a balance of the three. It was a delicate balance, they knew, so here was hoping they could maintain it.

Creation? That was easy. Selkie could manage that.

With a sweep of their arm, they called forth their water aspect, a large torrent rising upwards - with the water there, it was easy to shape. And so they did so, keeping an eye out on their competition, who very clearly boasted a fire aspect. Well, Selkie could certainly handle that. With a slight smile on their face (someone, at some point, had mentioned something about showmanship, after all), Selkie turned to glance back at the audience, seeking out the comfort in Connie’s smile. It was so much easier to shape the water into branching coral when they weren’t alone.

And yet… it was a distraction. A distraction that gave Selkie heart, yes, but a distraction nonetheless. It should have been sound that caught Selkie’s attention; they should have been more aware. Instead, it was the singing of fur, the sharpness of the heat against their skin. Holding tightly to their creation, Selkie whirled to face their opponent, a new kind of determination on their face. Clearly their opponent, a warmly coloured and tusked Browbird, was going to focus on the battle.

Well, that was just fine with Selkie. They’d just have to up their game. After all, it was a rookie mistake to ever make the first move, whether you were battling with weapons or aspects. It gave away your hand, allowing your opponent to respond with more information.

Selkie wasn’t going to rush into anything. They could take their time with this competition. And so, with the wave of a hand, they called on their illusion aspect, the coral formation of water shimmering and sparkling, growing and shifting in colour. The illusion spread further than was immediately visible, however - unless one had been paying close attention, then they may have noticed the shimmery aura about the Satyr.

This was the kind of competition that Kalama was built for. The bright lights, the loud music, the roaring crowd… it only added fuel to her ever present fire. The only thing that could have made it better would have been a sandy arena, the roar of waves in her ears. For it was on the beach that she truly shone. This, though? This could work.

She was at a disadvantage, she knew. It was a simple matter of water beats fire. But being at a disadvantage had never stopped Kalama before, now, had it? She’d just have to push herself harder than she had before. That was no problem for her. A challenge was always welcomed by the Browbird.

And so she spun, ducking low only to rise up with renewed, heightened fire, feeding the flames of her fire aspect creation with a steady breeze from her wind aspect. What water extinguished, air would ignite once again. The flames spread hot and high, curling into wild shapes - first a lion, then a dragon, then a chimera of the two. It was as her burning flames reached their height that she lashed out again, reaching for her Satyr opponent with another little spurt of flames.

This time, though, they didn’t connect with them. There was a soft shimmer of light where her opponent had been but a moment before, and nothing. What - ? But Kalama didn’t have time to process what had happened before she a torrent of salty water collided with her creation, then herself. It was a collision power enough to knock the breath out of her lungs, and she took a startled step back, shaking herself off. How had the Satyr managed it?

There wasn’t time to think. She needed to get her head back in the game, needed to focus and shake it off. If she let herself falter like this, it was all over. It was, after all, primarily a game of showmanship. And so Kamala did what came naturally. She turned her brilliant smile from her Satyr opponent to the crowd, spinning away on the now slippery surface of the arena.

Her fire had disappeared in a cloud of steam in what Kamala imagined had been a rather dramatic and showy attack on her rival’s part. So she was going to have to top it. A simple enough task, in theory. In practice, she was going to have to manage to do it with incredible focus while simultaneously focusing on her mysterious opponent.

Alright then, Kamala, get to it.

So they had been right. The Browbird hadn’t been looking for the illusion magic. That was a nice little advantage - but Selkie knew they would be more on guard this time around. Time to be more cautious. They had managed to buy some time, of course, causing the Browbird to have to rebuild her fire - so Selkie could safely do the same.

The water rose around them, swirling in a spiral about their body. A touch of illusion and… there, little fish amongst the whirls of water, an entire underwater scene. Out of the corner of their eye, they could see the building flames once more, burning ever upward and into the shape of a bright and blinding ship. Selkie knew what was coming, but they did not know if they had enough time to account for it. Of course… there was nothing for it but to try.

The ship of living fire descended upon their ocean, and Selkie moved themselves and, with a wave of the hand, the wall of water parted before the flames, rising upwards and over the sides. The Browbird, deep in focus, pulled back, but the creation was large and unwieldy and they had opened themselves up to further counter attack.

In the blink of an eye, Selkie was gone.

Wait. Where had… where had the Satyr gone? Kamala, holding her creation steady with almost the entirety of her focus, swung her head about wildly. Where had they gone? A soft shimmer was the only clue that they had closed in on them, and once again, Kamala found herself pushed over by a solid wave of water, colliding with one of the intricately carved (and so very sturdy) pillars. The sharp crunch! as she made contact with it was concerning, but Kamala still had bigger things to think about.

With her out of the way, the Satyr called the wave back and turned to the large creations in the center of the arena. It was taking all of Kamala’s focus to maintain it, but she knew it was only a matter of time now until it was gone.

The swirling, shifting cloud of water above her ship looked much like a whirlpool, but when it broke it became a heavy rain cloud, the rain eating away at her ship first slowly, then all at once as it split in twain, the water rushing the fire with another thick fog of steam - steam that rose up almost immediately into small, intricate patterns that seemed to match those carved on the pillars.

Well, that was certainly one way to lose.