Flashback Rabbit Soup

[Xavior Silhouette]

Spring 02 502AV Winter had long since passed and Xavior had spent most of it in his room eyes faced out toward the ocean’s horizon. Although snow flurries had blocked his view at times his eyes continued to gaze. The sun would rise and set, the moon would rise and set and there he stood. The cold caress of the wind on his face was what he imagined Leth’s hands felt like. It was something he craved, he yearned to feel once more. Sat in his cold room it was short of a miracle that he had not perished from the frigidness. The wood worn where he would pace, speckled with deep gashes from his claws and feet. But the ice had begun to melt, along with the stone around his heart. When he first stepped foot into the home Christy and Evan looked at him as if he were a ghost. His black form stepped through the door frame silently and slid out toward the fire that burned at the center of it. Evan was busy as he stirred the broth within a cauldron, home smelled heavily of cooked herb and onion. “That smells delicious,” Xavior grunted out. Evan and Christy remained silent as their eyes continued to stare. Xavior’s rusted, red, eyes looked over them both, brow furrowed. “Ahem, is everything alright?” “Oh! Yes, yes everything is just fine,” Christy said. “It is just we haven’t heard your voice in, 60 days?” “Yes, just about all Winter,” Evan said. Xavior’s eyes drooped as he looked to the floor. Wings furrowed close to his back and ears flattened. “I, I didn’t realize how long--” “Don’t worry about it,” Christy said and slid up next to the Zith. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Xavior hugged her back and allowed the woman to guide him to a seat which he gladly accepted. Evan looked him in the eye with some concern but his tan face soon turned to a bright and genuine smile. “We all got our battles Xavior, I’m just glad you one your first one,” Evan said. Xavior chuckled along with Christy as she sat as well, “we were about to enjoy a bit of rabbit.” She handed Xavior a wooden bowl and readied a second. He passed it along to Evan who took it and placed it beside him, “Evan is a great cook. That is why I married him.” Evan chuckled, “woman I learned all of my skills from you.” Xavior looked over at Christy who went quiet, fair skin flushed, “oh shush it love and dish up some food for Xavior.” “It is not necessary,” Xavior began but Evan grabbed his wrist and held it steady. “We gathered that, not even the holiest of men could survive a fast like you have,” Evan ladled some meat and veg into Xavior’s bowl and did the same with Christy’s. “But you still got taste, why not enjoy it while you have a tongue huh?” “I guess that is fair,” Xavior smiled as best as he could. “Thank you both for your kindness, I know I haven’t been the best of guests.” “Nonsense, you’ve been the best guest we’ve had over. You’re easy to please!” Christy said and giggled. “Besides, you’re like our good luck charm!” “How so,” Xavior adjusted his posture and smelled the brown liquid. “Well since you’ve arrived business has been great, I actually sold some of my own paintings too,” Evan said proudly. “Congratulations, I didn’t know you painted,” Xavior sniffed the brew once more. The sweet scent of rosemary mixed with potato, carrot, and gamey meat brought joy to his body. Not hunger, but rather pleasure in the smell. “You don’t know a lot,” Christy said. “I’m just glad you didn’t decide to stay in that room too much longer. We could have died and you’d be lost as a statue in a closet.” “Leth has certainly been watching us all over the past few days,” the trio nodded in a moment of prayer. But soon Evan eyed Xavior as he smelled the rabbit soup, “well do Ethaefal’s eat through their nose?” Xavior knew it was a tease and chuckled, “it just smells so good.” “Let the boy, I mean man, enjoy himself,” Christy said. “But it’ll get cold if he doesn’t eat it,” Christy shot Evan a look only a woman can. That don’t argue with me sort of look. Xavior held back a snort of laughter but soon brought the bowl to his lips. He slurped the broth as the warmth of it filled his mouth. It was ambrosia. A perfect balance of saltiness and a natural sweetness from the veg. A hearty and thick aftertaste from the meat and fat that had rendered from the meat and coated his tongue in savory oils. Again he tilted the bowl back again and took in a carrot cooked till it was tender but not tasteless. He brought the bowl away from his mouth and chewed. His eyes looked over at Evan who sat and watched him intently. Eyes wandered over toward Christy who sat with the same sort of intense gaze. Brows raised, “what,” he asked before he swallowed. “So?” Christy said. “How is it?” Evan finished. “Oh, well its amazing,” Xavior said and brought a hand to scratch the back of his head. “I, I don’t remember having something that tastes as good as this.” “Great success,” Evan proclaimed and clasped his hands. “See hon, you’re good enough to cook for the gods,” she teased. “If I ever see Leth again, I will cook this very meal for him,” Xavior grinned. “Oh no you don’t, I’ll be the only one to present this soup to him,” Evan chuckled and playfully shoved Xavior. “Hey, hey, a little less noise you too,” Christy giggled, “you both have a long life ahead of you still. No need to race to the finish,” Xavior and Evan nodded. “May the life continue to be prosperous,” Xavior said. “Here here,” Christy and Evan said in unison.

[Xavior Silhouette]

As soon as Xavior’s body moved through the doorway and into the wide halls, his heart fluttered with apprehension. It would be the first time he would roam Lhavit without the escort of a Shinya. Many questions of what if weighed heavily on his mind as he began to walk toward the staircase that spiraled inward toward the peak. Before he entered the tighter stairs his ears perked. The soft sound of feet as they swiftly moved up the stairs made him step back in fear. He looked around the hall and toward the open banisters. Wide columns were in place and lined the edge of the hall equidistant from each other. As the sounds of hurried footsteps grew closer he stepped toward one of the columns and pressed close to it. Wings folded toward his body as he hid in the shadow of one of the columns. Feet grew louder and he could guess about how close the strangers had grown. His heart beat faster, “please do not be looking for me,” he thought. Soon the footsteps were accompanied by a sound that Xavior did not expect. But it was welcomed as his head still looked out toward Zintia. His silhouette at first glance would give the impression of just a simple man leaned against a column. But if examined closer it would be apparent that the silhouette of his body wasn’t actually shadow but black fur and wings. The sounds that made Xavior’s heart soften and relax was laughter. “You aren’t going to catch me,” a girl’s voice called. “I’m almost there, you can’t get away from me that easy!” A boy’s voice retorted. Xavior’s eyes closed as he heard the two kids pass him by quickly. Their laughter began to grow quiet as they rounded a corner and began to ascend the next set of stairs down the hall. “That’s a relief--” “You really shouldn’t hide yourself you know,” Xavior felt a soft hand land on his shoulder. Head looked over his shoulder and was met with a woman’s gaze. Black eyes sat among the pool of rich, tan, skin. Face was as sharp as her gaze, smile lined with gently jagged and pointed teeth, “there are some in this city who will be very accepting of you.” “Oh um, hmm,” Xavior didn’t know what to say mostly from shock. “Shh, just enjoy yourself. Glad you decided to finally come out of your hole,” the woman said before she quickly ran off toward her kids. Xavior stepped back into the sunlight and watched the woman round the corner as well. Something welled within his body, a sensation that he hadn’t felt before, hope. The bridge’s expanse did not compare to those that connected the five peaks that made up most Lhavit’s city. Soon Xavior found himself on the outskirts of Surya Plaza whose natural stone gleamed in the sun’s light. A fine coat of morning dew covered the gray stone and stood in puddles that were disturbed by the Zith’s steps. He could hear a low rumble, the citizen’s voices carried from the distance. He looked up at the buildings that lined the square before he rounded a corner and was greeted by the busy center. “These people made all of this,” he asked himself, “its so grand.” He scanned the crowd and studied the way people dressed it was much grander than his own. Torso exposed as the sheet of plain, white, fabric was wrapped around his waist in a dhoti style. The fabric, loose on his legs, fluttered along with the sash. He didn’t mind the odd looks he received from those that passed him by. Too drawn into the scale of the city that he had only seen partially veiled in night. The inhabitants seemed to keep their distance as he moved through the city. It was only when he realized the voices had quieted that he looked down. Eyes stared at him in mild shock and horror, “what is this beast doing?” “Have you signaled a shinya,” another voice murmured. Xavior’s smile had quickly diminished as he heard the murmurs. He looked over the frightened faces that surrounded him. Heart thumped loudly in his chest as Christy’s frantic cries echoed in his head. He remembered the first time she saw his form and although he said it was fine at the time the reaction still managed to leave a wound. “Uh, hmm,” he said. “I, I am not a threat to any of you,” he said hesitantly and began to continue to walk forward. The crowd parted but the density did not diminish, it felt as if he was being suffocated by the stares. “Liar,” someone called. “Its a filthy beast, whose killed many, don’t believe a word from his filthy mouth,” Xavior began to panic as the crowd drew in closer. He growled in an attempt to scare them away and it worked for a moment but only seemed to aggravate the situation. “Let us through, let us through,” distant voices called among the rabble. The hatred that was spat from the crowd was too much to take in one go. Eyes wide with terror as the fear on the faces turned to hostility. Wings splayed open as he squatted low in defense, eyes continued to watch as the walls closed in on him. With a strong flex of his muscles a gust of wind blew past the people. Body took flight as he quickly flew over their heads and aimed for the misty peaks. The red sash around his waist had slipped free and fell to the ground, wilted on the stone floor. The shinya who had pushed through the crowd looked at Xavior as his form flew further away. One had a long bow and began to draw a thick a thick, long arrow back. His muscles flexed and wavered as he took aim on Xavior. His partner noticed the bit of fabric left behind and picked it up. “Syrian, stop,” he said loudly. Syrian relaxed his form, “why Jeremiah? It is just a zith! Now it is a free zith,” Syrian grumbled. “It always was a free zith,” his thumb rolled over the fabric, “how many ziths have you seen that walk around in broad daylight?

[Xavior Silhouette]

As soon as Xavior’s body moved through the doorway and into the wide halls, his heart fluttered with apprehension. It would be the first time he would roam Lhavit without the escort of a Shinya. Many questions of what if weighed heavily on his mind as he began to walk toward the staircase that spiraled inward toward the peak. Before he entered the tighter stairs his ears perked. The soft sound of feet as they swiftly moved up the stairs made him step back in fear. He looked around the hall and toward the open banisters. Wide columns were in place and lined the edge of the hall equidistant from each other. As the sounds of hurried footsteps grew closer he stepped toward one of the columns and pressed close to it. Wings folded toward his body as he hid in the shadow of one of the columns. Feet grew louder and he could guess about how close the strangers had grown. His heart beat faster, “please do not be looking for me,” he thought. Soon the footsteps were accompanied by a sound that Xavior did not expect. But it was welcomed as his head still looked out toward Zintia. His silhouette at first glance would give the impression of just a simple man leaned against a column. But if examined closer it would be apparent that the silhouette of his body wasn’t actually shadow but black fur and wings. The sounds that made Xavior’s heart soften and relax was laughter. “You aren’t going to catch me,” a girl’s voice called. “I’m almost there, you can’t get away from me that easy!” A boy’s voice retorted. Xavior’s eyes closed as he heard the two kids pass him by quickly. Their laughter began to grow quiet as they rounded a corner and began to ascend the next set of stairs down the hall. “That’s a relief--” “You really shouldn’t hide yourself you know,” Xavior felt a soft hand land on his shoulder. Head looked over his shoulder and was met with a woman’s gaze. Black eyes sat among the pool of rich, tan, skin. Face was as sharp as her gaze, smile lined with gently jagged and pointed teeth, “there are some in this city who will be very accepting of you.” “Oh um, hmm,” Xavior didn’t know what to say mostly from shock. “Shh, just enjoy yourself. Glad you decided to finally come out of your hole,” the woman said before she quickly ran off toward her kids. Xavior stepped back into the sunlight and watched the woman round the corner as well. Something welled within his body, a sensation that he hadn’t felt before, hope. The bridge’s expanse did not compare to those that connected the five peaks that made up most Lhavit’s city. Soon Xavior found himself on the outskirts of Surya Plaza whose natural stone gleamed in the sun’s light. A fine coat of morning dew covered the gray stone and stood in puddles that were disturbed by the Zith’s steps. He could hear a low rumble, the citizen’s voices carried from the distance. He looked up at the buildings that lined the square before he rounded a corner and was greeted by the busy center. “These people made all of this,” he asked himself, “its so grand.” He scanned the crowd and studied the way people dressed it was much grander than his own. Torso exposed as the sheet of plain, white, fabric was wrapped around his waist in a dhoti style. The fabric, loose on his legs, fluttered along with the sash. He didn’t mind the odd looks he received from those that passed him by. Too drawn into the scale of the city that he had only seen partially veiled in night. The inhabitants seemed to keep their distance as he moved through the city. It was only when he realized the voices had quieted that he looked down. Eyes stared at him in mild shock and horror, “what is this beast doing?” “Have you signaled a shinya,” another voice murmured. Xavior’s smile had quickly diminished as he heard the murmurs. He looked over the frightened faces that surrounded him. Heart thumped loudly in his chest as Christy’s frantic cries echoed in his head. He remembered the first time she saw his form and although he said it was fine at the time the reaction still managed to leave a wound. “Uh, hmm,” he said. “I, I am not a threat to any of you,” he said hesitantly and began to continue to walk forward. The crowd parted but the density did not diminish, it felt as if he was being suffocated by the stares. “Liar,” someone called. “Its a filthy beast, whose killed many, don’t believe a word from his filthy mouth,” Xavior began to panic as the crowd drew in closer. He growled in an attempt to scare them away and it worked for a moment but only seemed to aggravate the situation. “Let us through, let us through,” distant voices called among the rabble. The hatred that was spat from the crowd was too much to take in one go. Eyes wide with terror as the fear on the faces turned to hostility. Wings splayed open as he squatted low in defense, eyes continued to watch as the walls closed in on him. With a strong flex of his muscles a gust of wind blew past the people. Body took flight as he quickly flew over their heads and aimed for the misty peaks. The red sash around his waist had slipped free and fell to the ground, wilted on the stone floor. The shinya who had pushed through the crowd looked at Xavior as his form flew further away. One had a long bow and began to draw a thick a thick, long arrow back. His muscles flexed and wavered as he took aim on Xavior. His partner noticed the bit of fabric left behind and picked it up. “Syrian, stop,” he said loudly. Syrian relaxed his form, “why Jeremiah? It is just a zith! Now it is a free zith,” Syrian grumbled. “It always was a free zith,” his thumb rolled over the fabric, “how many ziths have you seen that walk around in broad daylight?

[Xavior Silhouette]

The air whistled by and rang loudly in his ears. He felt the muscles on his back burn as the wings were stretched tight. The air’s current kept him afloat and offered some relief for his body. The forest below moved slowly below and paralleled the clouds. Five peaks jutted from the earth below and extended well past the clouds. Though as the cool air tickled his fur, saturated in moisture, a fog began to haze his vision. Tears had given way to sweat and mist and concealed the outward appearance of pain. Xavior’s muscles burned particular along his back but the gentle airstream he began to glide on offered some relief. Body lazily rocked to the right as he began to turn back toward the peaks, “I, I could go back to the house,” he thought, “no. I can’t do that, maybe there was just a misunderstanding?” A hand reached to his waist to search for the red bit of fabric, “petched, I lost it. Maybe it fell off back there?” Eyes rolled toward Zintila while his lips curled into a frown, “maybe it’ll be returned to me?” A deep grumble rolled through his chest. “Doubtful, I guess I should go to the Shinya and let them know my situation.” Xavior’s wings flapped as he looked from one peak to the next. He began to fly toward one of them before he paused and then began to fly toward another, “hmm. Which one was it again?” Eyes closed as he thought back to the morning he was removed from the comfort of home and asked to remain in a cell till nightfall. “Christy, the Shinya I passed over the bridge,” he began to fly toward Zintia once more. But his eyes scanned over the plaza, “I went through the plaza and to the left!” He flew more confidently as he began to glide toward Shinyama. The tip of a wing tickled the underside of a cloud as he flew toward the peak. Clouds grew closer to the ground as the air from below mingled with the chill. The warm air stream that allowed Xavior to stay in flight also caused the clouds to almost follow him as he lowered closer to the peak. He didn’t want to stir up more concern as he looked for a suitable area to land preferably without too much public. But the clouds made visibility difficult, but was a benefit in that it concealed his body and dampened the possibility of alarm. The large patch of smooth, flat, stone differed from the buildings that surrounded it and was large enough to be seen. “That looks like a good area to settle down in,” he thought. Body grew closer and the training area grew larger and larger. Body rolled out of the cloud ceiling and soon found himself close to land. “Oof, I think I’m coming in too fast,” he cursed and spread his wings wide. Feet extended toward the ground, toes splayed as he braced for impact. His knees were bent naturally and helped his landing to be painful but not agonizing. The solid stone sent a ripple of pain through his body inertia kept his torso in motion. Hands outstretched as he fell forward and caught himself on the palms. Eyes closed tight with the rest of his face as he expected to plant his face into the ground. It was luck that kept him from such a fate, body poised on the balls of his feet and hand. Sharp nails scraped across the plaza while his body slid to a stop wings still sprawled wide from his torso. “I, I’m alive,” he said aloud. Eyes opened and confirmed that he had indeed stopped. Heart continued to pound as he slowly stood up. A tightness in his legs shot pain through his body enough to make him collapsed back onto his rear, “Petching Hai, mother of shyke that hurt.” His hands moved to roll over his tightened calves and winced as the tight muscles refused to yield. “Could have been worse,” Jeremiah said. The sudden voice started him, eyes swiftly drew to the man’s body. A small smirk played across Jeremiah’s face as he looked at the Zith as if he was a child with a scraped knee. “Could have missed the plaza entirely,” he said. “I suppose that is true,” Xavior settled and returned to massaging his legs. He heard others move about and looked up. Syrian was dressed similarly to Jeremiah. A light blue robe along with a white sash whose tips had been weaved blue strips of a silky material. However, Jeremiah’s sash was black with white stripes weaved into it. Other people began to file into the plaza as well 20 people in total. They all had different variations on what Xavior assumed was standard attire and was curious what each stood for. Syrian had walked up behind Jeremiah and nodded his head in agreement, “yes it could have been much worse.” The acolyte had a long bow that had been threaded over his shoulder and clung tight to his body, “sorry about earlier.” Xavior’s head tilted, “the city doesn’t seem to know about your urm situation.” “Oh, that.” Xavior’s lips curled into a small smile, “its nothing really.” Eyes flicked down as he began to feel his legs unlock themselves. “Why do I lie,” he thought to himself. “Hmph, if you’re sure,” Jeremiah began but paused and reached into his robe. “Seems you had dropped this,” he unrolled the red sash and extended it with his hand toward Xavior.

[Xavior Silhouette]

Xavior took the offered Sash, “thank you. I had come here to at least alert the Shinya to my situation.” He paused when Jeremiah’s hand remained outstretched, “uh did you want compensation for your service?” “What?” Syrian said. “Ha, no no I am offering a hand to you,” Jeremiah reached over to Xavior’s hand and gripped it tight. “You really are new, I thought Ethaefals were supposed to be wise,” he teased. Xavior felt Jermiah begin to pull his body from the ground. He got the idea and moved his legs and pulled himself to his feet. His body was hunched over, the adrenaline had worn off and revealed a stiffness in his back. Hands rubbed against his back and massaged the thick spine, “I hope you didn’t pay good money for your information.” Xavior flashed a grin, “but I do believe my problem has been solved, I should be on my--” “Where is he,” a voice called. Xavior watched as both Syrian and Jeremiah eyes widened before they turned toward the woman who swiftly approached. “You two out of my way!” Both Jeremiah and Syrian’s body were pushed aside with force a force that Xavior couldn’t see where it manifested from. Thelma was dressed in a deeper, richer, blue robe that seemed to be more tailored for her body. She stood in front of Xavior, black, eyes studied him with a stern facial expression. The simple look she gave was enough to send ice water down his sore spine in an unpleasant way. White teeth on display, lips curled into a cross between a grin and a snarl. But there was a hint of familiarity to her a part of his mind nagged that he had seen her before. “Did you have to be so rough,” Syrian said and rubbed his shoulder. “Shut it or you will wish your legs were no longer attached to your body,” Thelma all but growled at the man. Xavior’s ears were folded down as he watched the exchange. He almost wanted to risk flight once more despite the minor injuries. But when those eyes fell on him again his body would not respond to his thoughts. Syrian seemed to be in the same boat as he shrank back behind Jeremiah. “So you, you are an ethaefal,” she asked with a fierceness. “Uhh, yes mam,” Xavior flinched back as Thelma’s body suddenly bent forward. She hummed to herself and looked on either side of Xavior’s head before she pulled back and brought a hand to the base of her chin. “Do I intimidate you,” Thelma said. “A little,” Xavior replied. “Good! Means I haven’t gone soft, you can relax though.” She said and punched Xavior’s shoulder. “Oof,” he grunted, “even if I do relax my arm won’t.” “Tsk, you complain more than my son,” her stern face flashed into a small smile, “though you have the right to complain. I don’t know my own strengths.” “He also had a hard landing just moments ago mam,” Jeremiah said softly. “He’s probably still sore.” Thelma shot a glance toward Jeremiah before she turned her attention back to Xavior. “Nonsense,” her hand landed firmly on his shoulder, “I’m sure he never looked sturdier, isn’t that right?” “Oh hum, yes?” “Wonderful then you’re going to stay a while right? Hey, maybe get him a weapon or something, get some real zith training in y’all.” Thelma chuckled. “I’ve never fought before, maybe I’ll just sit this one out and watch,” Xavior said. “You’ve been here since Winter and no one has seen you since. I can only assume that you’ve been sitting all of that time, enough sitting get out there and do something,” she shoved Xavior forward. He stumbled on his feet and chuckled with hesitancy, “maybe,” he looked over his shoulder back at Thelma. “But maybe this first time I will observe,” Xavio thought on his toes, “besides maybe I don’t want to train with your unit?” Thelma’s smile faded into a deep frown, “I’d love to see what you’ve done with those under you. Assuming you are the commander of course?” Thelma looked as if a boulder had been dropped on her foot. Wordlessly she moved toward the center of the plaza, “form up!” “Now you’ve done it,” Syrian said with a droopy face. Jeremiah chuckled and quickly began to run toward Thelma and Syrian followed as well. Xavior began to walk into the sunlight, the moisture still lingered on his fur. The beads shimmered in the light, colorful swirls refracted into his eye and gave an opalescent appearance. Body leaned against a wall behind Thelma who looked over her shoulder at him with a smirk. “Okay gentleman and woman,” she spoke to the formed up Shinya stood in columns and rows, “we have a particularly special guest to watch our practice today. The illustris Ethaefal who had fallen near the end of Winter.” She pointed over her shoulder, “that man will have more infamy than all of you without lifting a finger.” Xavior’s expression sunk, knees bent as he again attempted to blend into the stone wall. “But that doesn’t matter to you all right? You are warriors strong here to protect the likes of him and this great city established by his kind. We don’t ride the coat tails and instead build ourselves up to what you are know, Shinya. Let us show what we have to offer our city when it comes to protection. Caleb, Katan you will spar first today.” Thelma’s finger’s pointed at the two Shinya while the rest spread into a circle.

[Xavior Silhouette]

Xavior sat back as Caleb moved to the weapons stand and pulled from it a dull sword. His bare hands felt the weight of the sword before he nodded his head and moved away from the wrack. Katan didn’t bother to go through an inspection of the weapon as she reached for a long shaft of wood. The staff had both ends covered in fabric, one thicker than the other, with confidence she twirled the staff between her hands and then moved to the center of the ring. Thelma looked at both combatants, “alright you two first to three will win this session, remember only weapons count as hits.” She clapped her hands and stepped back. Caleb and Katan stood at the ready and on guard eyes locked on each other for the moment. Both brought their weapons to their sides and leaned against them. Bodies remained placed against their weapons for support and kept their bodies upright. Xavior soon observed their eyes begin to shift and dart toward unseen things. Caleb held his sword in a defensive stance as he adjusted his posture. Although it couldn’t be seen by Xavior, a match was in progress as astral bodies were flung at each other. He couldn’t see each limb as they contacted with each other to him it just appeared as if both combatants were stood still. “I know you can’t see it now, but there is a beautiful thing going on between those two, they are my top fighters.” Thelma’s voice suddenly appeared next to him. He turned to look next to him as Thelma leaned against the wall as well, “you’ll be able to see it to with some practice.” “What exactly is going on here,” Xavior asked and turned his attention back to the fighters. “They are combating each other solely through their skills in a magic discipline called projection. Each of their bodies has lost use of one of their legs because they have generated the ability to severe their astral bodies and use it in combat,” Thelma explained. Xavior’s brow crooked as he studied the bodies closer. Katan had her spear on the right and was leant against it. Although it wasn’t noticeable under their uniform, her leg had collapsed slightly and replaced with the spear for stability. Caleb used the sword similarly, like a cane, but was his left. It was barely perceptible to Xavior but the way they held their weapons was telling. “Isn’t that a risk? To be using such an ability,” Xavior asked. “It can be in the wrong situation, but when it is just between themselves it shouldn’t be a problem--oh here comes the fun stuff.” Thelma said, body perked forward some. Xavior watched as the fighter’s smile grew, hands clutched their weapon as they slowly eased themselves back to their body’s two legs. Katan was faster however and was the first to bring her spear down and thrust forward. Caleb, still sluggish, was able to perry the long shaft and dodge the thrust toward his abdomen. He stumbled when he put pressure on his leg but soon regained his balance once attachment had been fully achieved. “Woof, that was close,” Xavior said. Thelma chuckled, “close yes but calculated it is over for Caleb.” Xavior’s brow furrowed and looked at the fighters. Caleb’s head suddenly jerked to the right as something punched him. The tip of Katan’s spear drew back and thrusted between his legs and slashed against his inner thigh. His body staggered back as he recovered from the hit and the first point was given to Katan faster than Xavior could see. “You’re a tricky girl, always have been,” Caleb complimented. “Thanks, but I doubt I’ll be able to pull a fast one on you again,” Katan replied. “What do they mean?” Xavior said. “You see, Katan unlike Caleb detached two limbs. The arm rested against the spear did not actually hold onto the spear for support. Instead she used her other arm to fully keep her balance while she detached an arm and a leg. But she did not attack with her arm and instead kept it hidden behind her arm to make it seem like she hadn’t detached it, really rather clever.” Thelma nodded pleased with her underling’s performance. Xavior just stared dumbfounded unsure if he understood a single word she had said. “Ha, you’ll understand. The very fact that you haven’t left shows me that you’re interested. If you stick around maybe we can make a great fighter out of you.” Xavior just remained quiet still unsure. But when Thelma’s hand came to his shoulder, he was brought out of thought, ‘because even though there are folks in this city that are accepting of you, there are others in this world that won’t be as forgiving.” “You’re the woman I met earlier aren’t you?” Xavior said and was met with a knowing smile, “your kids have a special mother.” “Flattery young ethaefal? That’ll only get you so far in this world. When the day comes that you leave this city, which I know you will want to, flattery will mean nothing. Actions speak louder than words and the ability to protect yourself will be more important,” Xavior nodded at her words. "So, you guys are here every day," Xavior said with a smirk. "Every other day, does that mean we'll be seeing more of you?" Xavior only grinned and turned his attention back to the fighters. Thelma patted his shoulder and began to walk back toward the group as another point was scored. "Who knew it would be this easy to make friends," he thought to himself.