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10.3.2017 - A mysterious light filled the Sea of Skies. Those who wielded great power and abilities found themselves back at square one, as if reset.


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Azmot
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The light, red silk garb flapped gently at Vermilion's back, the young nomad being pushed forwards by a gentle breeze as he blindly wandered with the guidance of the universal wind. He traveled in his small, latent form, appearing to be an infant with the ability to walk with the stability of a full grown adult, though his eyes most likely seemed older than the rest of his appearance. At barely more than a foot in height, the ponytailed Lotus entered what was known as the castle grounds, feeling the gentle earth hug at his feet as the gravel moved to either side of his simple footwear. He took in the surroundings, breathing in the night's air: The moonlight was bright and with luster, allowing every detail of the stoned grounds to be visible. Not a single shadow could escape the monk's vision, though he did not dwell on the resident darkness, but the wind. As soon as he got even just an inch within this area, the wind stopped. The universe was trying to tell him something.

"Ah, someplace I can relax." The infant said plainly, traveling towards the middle of the area before sitting in a position of meditation. He was destined to wait for the wind to return and take him to his next destination. What could the universe have in store for him now, Vermilion could only ponder.

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Wasure Rareta
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The memoric samurai laid his first steps onto the castle grounds with intrigue: after a few choice encounters with his bretheren, Wasure finally mastered the ability to travel amongst worlds, and was strangely drawn to this one. It seemed new, yet somehow ancient at the same time. As if there had been a million souls traveling through here throughout time, yet as if it was fresh. Such a strange aura. He almost felt like one of the first people to enter this place since it's birthing. But that was impossible, naturally: people had to have built it.

Wasure sat perched on the Samurai Illusion's shoulder as they moved within the pale moon's reach, noticing a young infant relaxing in the middle of such a dark and potentially dangerous place. Any sane person would have immediately called for help, as this was no place for a baby to be. But Wasure's eyes saw past much of what normal eyes could, noticing not only great sentiment, but almost a pressure glowing from the infants heart. Just what was this being? Being cautious, Wasure simply announced his presence with a long sigh, his glare indicating that he could see past this youth's guise. One of the most interesting things to Wasure was that this was no Illusionary magick, seemingly, and if it was it was someone on equal grounds with the bird. What could the Samurai have in store, with the Monk now within his destiny?

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Azmot
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The air grew cold as the nomad began to know what could be almost described as fear, though it was closer to alertness in most ways. The infant Lotus felt the being enter the atmosphere of the area and was immediately unsettled: a fierce gale nearly forced Vermilion to his feet. Whomever this being was, he was causing great stress in the universe by his mere existence. A powerful Nobody, perhaps? Regardless, the monk would not defy what he felt the universe willed. Quickly leaping to his feet, Lotus grew into his extended form almost instantly, creating much tension in his body from the rapid growth. Throwing his left palm across his chest and making it face behind him, a powerful burst of invisible energy was released, propelling the oriental man towards the Japanese Samurai. Another burst of tension released from his right foot, which was underneath him in a manner that caused a forward flip mid-air, so that his left foot would quickly and suddenly cleave into the blue-haired man's head with his heel, which could easily incapacitate if not kill most normal men.

"So much for relaxing... Thanks, Great Wind."

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Wasure Rareta
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Wasure smiled and was without fear as the foolish monk rushed into battle with no rhyme or reason. Or perhaps he just senses the bird's malicious nature: though that was proven untrue as the spiritual nomad began to assault the Samurai Illusion. Lotus' foot would travel through what was supposed to be his head and slow as he traveled through the syrupy-consistancy which currently composed his body. Then, it would stop at his navel while his body solidified and made escape impossible through physical means. Already the monk was trapped. Wasure's body began to morph and dissolve, instantaneously taking the shape of Wasure with his right hand clasping Vermilion's ankle and the rest of his being having been inches back from where it was. An unnecessary and flashy move. Throwing the foot away, the Samurai laughed and slowly drew his blade, pointing it towards the ponytailed young man.

"You're severely outclassed in terms of talent and ability. Forfeit the fight or forfeit your life." The illusion would say plainly. He could sense that while they were at the same power level, Wasure was in a completely different league in combat ability. Whoever this rash monk was, he had no chance.

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Azmot
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As soon as his foot began to sink into his enemy, Vermilion regretted his normal tactics. Surely, for someone that was a supposed threat to the universe, speed and strength alone would not be a sufficient strategy.

"Amateur mistake! Lotus thought as his foot was caught, though he used the momentum of the toss away to preform a spin-attack, which would not the opponent's blade away if it made contact. Whatever his enemy was, it seemed to laugh at the face of reality. After his attack was launched, if he hit the blade or not, he would attempt to (as long as he had a free foot) stomp on the ground in a steady position and quickly focus his spiritual energy into his chest. Locking onto his target, he quickly exhaled a pillar of fire that would quickly engulf his target and hopefully deal some substantial damage. While the Samurai seemed to be able to re-arrange his matter at will, it wouldn't do him much good if he was engulfed by flames.

The Monk was hoping that this attack would at least phase his opponent and reveal his mysteries.

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Wasure Rareta
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Wasure was impressed, but not intimidated, by the monk's use of momentum to launch another fast strike, this time targeting his blade instead of the warrior himself. The blade initially flew out of his hand, towards his right side and out of his arm's reach. With a smile, his arm stretched inhumanly, like it was made of melted plastic, and grabbed his sword. During this action, he was looking towards the sword when he heard a strong thud hit the ground, and immediately scolded his prideful attitude towards this fight. Was he just as foolish as the monk?

The Samurai's arm snapped back as he turned to face the monk, but by then Wasure himself could feel heat licking towards his feathery body. He stopped focusing on his illusion, allowing the Samurai to dissipate as he flapped his strong, tiny wings and soared upwards rapidly. While in the air, he allowed the Samurai illusion to reform, where the bird would now be perching on its shoulders. This time, however, the illusion would have leathery wings to support his aerial movements.

As he stabilized his flight, the Samurai would create an illusionary ball of ice in front of him, which grew in size and density by the second. Then, after a moment, the ice would break into 20 or so inch-long shards and shoot in the Monk's direction, at a slower speed and with spaces horizontally and vertically, enough for someone of Wasure's speed and dexterity to dodge them all. The bird decided he needed to understand this opponent before going head first into battle once again. This attack should accurately gauge the monk's abilities, and Wasure would be able to respond accordingly.

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Azmot
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When the bird flew upward, Vermilion focused his flame to have enough force to blow him backwards and away from a potential counter attack. Where did the swordsman go? After he got his sure footing, which took merely a moment, Vermilion first scanned the skies for his opponent, as that's the only place he could logically escape, unless he portalled. The Samurai emerged from nothingness and a dark mist, a ball of ice forming before breaking into pieces. They came at him quickly, and Vermilion wouldn't naturally be able to dodge them all. Taking a deep breath, the experienced martial artist took in the details of the attack as color faded from the world and he focused on the oncoming projectiles. He began his Vixen Dance stance, allowing the energy flowing through his body to make him more limber. As the first of the shards came towards him, Vermilion mentally mapped out their path in his head and closed his eyes to prevent distractions occurring. He sidestepped to the right, feeling the satisfying sound of two shards shattering as he continued to move to the right, out of the attacks range before he opened his eyes to see where the rest of the ice was going.

"Can't evade, he's shooting them wherever I move."

The next three came high, towards his chest: bending backwards with his new flexibility, he allowed  them to pass over him harmlessly as he went into a backwards bridge. Before he did so, he took note of three more going towards his torso, which would now strike about his neck. Kicking off the ground, he preformed a back handspring with great force, shattering the shards with his foot and up-righting himself a moment later. As soon as he could see again, two more were already coming towards his chest. Waiting for the right moment to arrive, Lotus raised both hands and crashed down two powerful strikes, like a rushing waterfall. Both of the shards of ice shattered (which would simply be illusionary, if Vermilion knew they were but illusions) and the Monk looked upwards, realizing he was about halfway done.

Exhaling the deep breath he had taken at the start of this chain of actions, a powerful billow of steam exited his mouth and nose and flew towards the remaining ice and the Samurai, the energy pulled from the stress of the fight so far and the energy he had built up during his Vixen Dance. The shards of ice instantly evaporated into water vapor, leaving the air empty and the remainder of the scolding air charging towards the flying Samurai. Just how would he react?

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Wasure Rareta
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The flying Samurai was almost impressed at Vermilion's ability to evade damage from the attacks; he was much more capable than Wasure had anticipated. It wasn't that the young man outclassed the Samurai, or was even on the same level: It was the fact that Lotus had great control over his body, and seemed to be well trained in order to compensate for not completely excellent physical capabilities, though it was obvious that even by superhuman standards this man was fast and able. However, the Samurai already knew that victory was in hand. Whenever the Monk made his move to crush the shards of ice, it was obvious to the bird that the Monk's dedication to faith made him the best opponent for the Samurai to face. Lotus would be completely subject to all of the Samurai's illusions.

The steam was easily dodged by flying to the right, the bird feeling more heat come from the attack.

Smiling, Wasure willed a large stone Moi to appear over his head, spanning thirty feet in any direction, and dropped the hundreds ton object, smiling at his easy victory. The Monk would be crushed instantly, though the bird was sad to not know why the oriental guru attacked him. While he admired humans, this man was nothing of the sort, and therefor could not be slain as a warrior, with honor. His supernatural abilities allowed the Samurai to work outside of his normal code, as a warrior. Still, as an opponent, he bowed in respect of his passing as the statue illusion dissipated, along with his wings. He would land and turn his back, not bothering to even glance at the liquified warrior. The Samurai illusion dissipated and the bird was surrounded in Memoric energy, blinking away.

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Azmot
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Vermilion didn't have time to react quick enough. None of his techniques could allow him to escape or even break the stone. If he could preform Ice Yaoguai Fist followed by a Pressure Wave release in time, it might be possible. But now, it was to late. All he could do was close his eyes as he was engulfed in darkness.

A breeze came in from above...

"Above?"

The Great Winds were trying to tell him something, but what could it be? Opening his eyes, he felt another breeze come from above, seemingly directly from the stone. But it hadn't fallen yet, and it's not as if the wind could move through it... or could it? Vermillion thought long and hard about the previous actions the Samurai had preformed, and he was confused. Was there some weakness in the warrior's amazing fighting capabilities that the wind knew? Regardless, he understood it's message. He would stand fast and put his faith into the Cosmic Winds, knowing that they would keep him safe. He simply stared at the Samurai as the giant statue dropped, an anvil looming over his head. Whatever the wind was going to do, his unshakeable faith made Lotus able to stand without fear of being crushed. He was going to be safe.

And as the large object harmlessly passed through him, the Monk began to build cold and calming energy within his arms. He now understood the Samurai's source of strength, and why he couldn't lay a finger on him.

He took a sprint as soon as the illusion faded away, taking all that time to build the energy for his Ice Yaoguai Fist, traveling towards the spot the Samurai now stood, back turned. Using his incredible speed, he closed the distance in no time at all, striking at the Samurai's waist instead of his back, where he normally would. Lotus' hand would attempt to make contact with his sword and freeze it, sealing what he believed to be the source of the Samurai's power.

"You are a spirit of a demon who is possessing this sword and taking the form of a Samurai, and with this, I seal your into your material form."

If his attack hit, the entire blade and sheath would be frozen solid by his Lotus Kempo, and be unmelted within hours under heat, though Vermilion had plans to exorcise the spirit long before that could happen. Thankfully, as a Gale Nomad, Lotus' was very familiar with spirits and how to handle them.

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Wasure Rareta
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The Monk was as silent as a passing breeze, so Wasure was shocked to look and see his blade becoming frozen as the monk spoke. How did he escape the Moi illusion? Perhaps he somehow discovered the secret behind the Samurai's existence, too: but as Lotus spoke, Wasure became mentally relieved. "Wrong, Monk." The bird thought. But he would play along.

"How did you know!" The Samurai yelled as his body began to turn to ice, a work of the bird's illusions, before he disappeared, leaving the ice behind. The blade would glow with a darklight for a moment before halting, leaving only the flying Wasure. He landed near the Monk, looking around, as if for the man who was taking care of him, and chirped helplessly, cooing for his master. He looked at the Monk as if he was helpless and in need. Wasure knew that this good-natured man would only do everything in his power to keep a helpless animal safe.

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Azmot
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Vermilion, now believing himself to be out of danger, allowed pride to enter his heart. As the demonic illusionist became sealed within the blade, the Monk felt triumphant over the terrifying force that could have been a threat to the universe. Somehow, though, the winds didn't feel different: the pressure and tension was still there.

"It'll probably end once the sword is destroyed." He figured, picking up the frozen blade. The bird chirped, and the oriental's heart cried for the creature. It had probably just been perched to his master blindly, not knowing of his deeds, and now it was without. Calmly, he knelt to pick up the bird and place it on his shoulders. However, as he grew closer, a chilling wind almost attacked him. Could it be...

Without a moment's hesitation, his reach turned into a powerful chop that would crush the stone beneath the bird if it missed, and definitely crush whatever it was. That bird was literally pure evil; the Gale Nomad had never felt a force so powerful before.

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Wasure Rareta
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The bird could only be amused as the Monk first fell, then saw through his guise. Raising a single wing, he put a monstrous force behind the movement and would completely stop the strike cold, with minimal damage done to his wing, though more damage would be done to the Shaolin's wrist.

"You're smart kid, but not nearly smart enough." A voice would say from no where, and the ice around the Samurai's sword would shatter, the samurai Illusion appearing over the Monk. A solidified illusion would strike the back of Vermilion's head, a fist to incapacitate his foe. The bird would hope his attack successful and wait, still fending off the Monk's strength with his wing.

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Azmot
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Lotus was surprised at the bird's strength, and was upset at his slip up. Both of the warrior's shared the hubris of pride, and Vermilion would not let his guard down again. Feeling the wind of a solid object forming and moving behind him, the Monk focused the remaining energy in his body into his stomach and fed it energy, allowing a very strong film to envelop his body and completely nullify the strike, the secondary armor able to take much more damage all while regenerating. However, it took around a tenth of his stamina to create, so Vermilion couldn't continue doing so with ease.

Still in contact with the bird, Lotus flicked his wrist away while releasing much-built stress within his body through his nose, hoping to boil the bird alive through the meditation technique. Vermilion, though unarmed, was safe as long as his armor held up, though the bird wouldn't be able to see what force seemingly protected him: be it some ungodly constitution or an act of a god.

"I will slay you in the name of the Great Winds!" The Monk exclaimed, spinning his arms in a long windmill before making two fists and knocking them together over his chest, his hands closed and palms facing his chest parallel. A red outline began to glow over Vermilion's body, his Turtle Shell Defense absorbing into his skin and restoring the remaining stamina the ward held. In front of him, a red lotus appeared and broke off into seven 6-inch long petals, the powerful hidden technique of the Lotus Kempo able to tear through even steel, all while increasing his speed, strength, and constituion greatly. It was unfortunate that this technique is dangerous on the heart.

"I'll end this now." Vermilion said calmly, sending the petals in a slashing motion much quicker than his body could have moved before, chopping the air to make the petals slash towards the bird. The first petal would slash where the bird was, the next where he was dodging, the third where he dodged after that, and so forth until the bird was hit. This was the end.

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Wasure Rareta
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The bird was shocked as the warrior seemed to change modes, completely unfazed by the Samurai's attack while going on the offensive. As he glowed, he sent petals with horrible force towards him at speeds even faster than Wasure could keep up with, much less dodge them. After the first two, he decided it was time for a tactical retreat. Surrounded in Memoric energy, the bird blinked out of reality just in time to avoid the third and fatal attack, his sword (the ice magically shattering) disappearing with him. The Monk was left alone with a voice.

"My name is Wasure. I leave you in honor, so that we may battle again someday."

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Azmot
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Strangely, Vermilion didn't hate the Samurai, he was just following orders. As his hidden technique dissipated, he placed his fists into his sleeve and bowed, as if introducing himself. "Vermilion Lotus." With that, he turned towards the entrance, as if nothing happened, and continued walking. Then, a green energy flew towards the Monk and whisked him away, the Great Winds taking him to his next location.

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