'You brainless, oversized pigeon! What the hell were you thinking, jumping out like that and exposing your bloody great bird wings for everyone to see?'

'Please understand that it my inner instincts which lead me to assume that he was going to harm Erin. I was merely abiding by my duty as her ally and-'

'Ohh, who gives a hoot about that?'

'I do, actually.'

Erin sat perched on the edge of a small boulder, listening to Hirst's insensitive remarks from afar. Using a stick she had picked up, the magus began to draw into the fine dirt around her, sketching various shapes and patterns which held no meaning whatsoever. Anything to distract her Hirst, who was still in the process of scolding Casius for his defensive actions back at the tavern.

'You're simple if you think she's anything,' the dwarf was saying. 'I mean, look at her! She's like a troll plastered in make-up!'

'Oi!' Erin glanced over her shoulder, sending him an icy glare. 'I heard that!'

'Good, 'cause I'm telling your boyfriend here about how you shouldn't have succumbed to your womanly hormones and allowed yourself to get involved with someone like Wyatt Ortegas!'

She turned away with a dismissive snort. 'He's not my boyfriend,' she muttered.

"I would let the devil Lucifer tear off my wings, feed my heart to the demon hound Cerberus and travel to the furthest regions of Hell before allowing anyone unworthy to lay a hand on her!"

Those had been his exact words. Now they echoed without end in the back of her mind, reminding her of the valiant extent Casius had gone to after Wyatt had foolishly brandished a weapon in an attempt to mend his honour.

Or so she assumed.

If you feel so strongly about what he said, an inner voice stated, then why aren't you sticking up for him now?

The scowl Erin donned only grew deeper. 'Why? Because it's Hirst, that's why. That idiot would still be lecturing him, even if he'd saved me from falling off a cliff.'

Yes, but still. Don't you owe it to yourself to show him how grateful you really are? Think about everything he's done for you.

Erin stopped drawing and looked up. She could still hear Hirst screaming his little lungs out in the near distance, reprimanding Casius in a way that was almost torturous.

'...why do you keep bringing up this whole Divine Empire crap?' Hirst exclaimed. 'It's getting on my bloody nerves, listening to you and your holy nonsense! Yes, I said nonsense! Now, if you had even half a brain in that dense head of yours, you'd realise that standing up for women is nothing but a waste of time!'

Snap!

The stick broke in half as Erin shoved its slim length into the ground and stood up, both arms trembling at her sides. She had heard enough.

'Hey!'

Hirst looked back in time to see a furious, red-faced Erin storming across the terrain towards him. 'Oi! What the hell are you playing at?' he demanded, stumbling back in a hasty retreat.

'Shut up, you boor!' Erin snarled. 'I've been putting up with your miserable, pessimistic, I-don't-give-a-hoot-about-anyone-except-myself crap for a while now, but I've had it! Elric suggested we seek out your Treasure Hunting services because you were the most qualified guy he knew. Now, I don't usually say this about my brother, but I thought he'd gone bloody berserk when he said that! However, because I trust him to make reasonable decisions, I didn't argue...that much.'

The dwarf simply shrugged. 'So what?'

'So, you either prove that you're as good as Elric says, or, so God help me, I'll personally ship you back to Laistenbal and hand you over to the Crusaders myself!'

'On what grounds?'

'Fraud. And two counts of molesting.'

Hirst sneered. 'It's hardly molesting if you enjoyed it.'

'I'm not joking around here, you little piece of-'

'Whoa, whoa, whoa!' He raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. 'Calm your knickers,' he said. The traces of amusement plastered across his face fell in an instant, replaced with a look of genuine concern. 'Look, I get it. Your brother told you to find and convince me to help because I'm the best at what I do. Truth be told, that's actually a compliment in itself. And yeah, I'll admit that maybe I'm a bit of a pain in the arse at times...'

'Nobody's arguing with you there.'

'...but you gotta understand why I act the way I do. Believe it or not, I do care about you and Kaiser here.' Hirst's face softened when he saw the doubt etching its way onto Erin's face. 'It's just...well, I don't like to show it through, you know, love and stuff.'

Erin sighed. 'Why? I mean, what's so wrong with letting people know you care?'

'Because I like to think I'm a proper man,' Hirst explained. 'And proper men don't smother people with hugs and kisses...'

'Do they grope people without their consent?'

'...they maintain their tough exterior through...well, toughness! But just because I don't say it, doesn't mean I don't care. Why else would I be giving Cassidy a piece of my mind? I'm not that much of a jerk to just yell at the guy for no reason. He's risking his life by agreeing to duel that womanising arsehole, Ortegas!'

Erin looked over towards Casius, who was gazing down at the smaller man, his face supposedly expressionless. However, beyond the oblivious look he wore - something she had grown accustomed to noticing - she could see slight traces of curiosity bubbling within his eyes.

Hirst, however, just shrugged. 'Long story short, I wouldn't have agreed to come if I didn't care,' he muttered. 'And if I was as much of an arsehole as you think I am, then I would have told you to stuff it without even giving you a chance to explain yourself when you first came to my home. But did I? No. I gave you a chance to explain yourself and then I agreed to help.'

The magus couldn't help but smile. In light of the revelation, she realised that Casius had been right all along - the dwarf did possess a kinder, more nurturing side. Inside, she could almost feel the anger and bitterness melting away, replaced with the surprise adoration she suddenly felt.

Hirst, as if sensing this, stomped his foot. 'Gah! See, this is why I hate being nice!' he shouted. 'I say one heartfelt thing and suddenly I'm not a man anymore! I'm all sweet a-and cute and...and-'

'Oh, shut up, you great nut!' Erin reached out and ruffled his dark, tousled hair. 'You're still the same, smelly, midget-arsed dolt I know. Mind you, now I know you have got a heart inside that tiny body of yours, I promise not to be so-'

'-womanly?'

Her lips trembled in an attempt to smile. 'Yes,' she muttered at last. 'Womanly...'

Hirst clapped his hands together. 'Great! Now then, should we discuss the upcoming battle? What are our tactics gonna be? How's Kaius meant to do battle with Ortegas when he's got no fighting skills, no means of magic and the curiosity of an infant? All he's got are those giant bird wings, so unless he can fly around the bloody arena until womanising Wyatt dies of boredom then we're truly and utterly screwed.'

'That's where you're wrong,' Erin said. The dwarf raised a bushy yet sceptical brow. 'Casius does have some fighting experience, and I think there's a way we can put that to use against someone like Wyatt.'

She looked around the area, the barren, dirt-covered wasteland which served as the far outskirts of The Faux, and gestured for the two men to gather in closer.

'This is what we're going to do...' she began.

* * *

Very soon, Casius found himself striding through the main tunnel which led to the centre of the Faux Arena - an oversized stadium complete with towering, circular walls and an open roof.

As he neared the end, he looked ahead and saw the sunlight beaming down on the stadium, illuminating the playing field and the excited faces of the audience. Despite the size of the village, the arena was packed with enthusiastic residents who had gathered to watch the upcoming battle.

Erin and Hirst were following closely behind him. Ahead, two Mortal escorts - necromancer guards, as he preferred to call them - marched along the narrow passageway, leading in absolute silence.

They came to a stop at the mouth of the tunnel and the two guards twisted back to face him.

'You must enter the arena by yourself,' one of the guards explained. 'It is against Faux Clan traditions to have anyone accompany you into the main circle of the arena.'

Casius nodded. 'I understand. Might I exchange final words with my allies before I proceed?'

The two necromancers shared questionable glances. 'Of course.'

With an appreciative nod, Casius turned around. Erin and Hirst both stood, wearing expressions of concern, although he made it a point not to let his own surprise show.

'Stick to the plan,' Erin said. 'Remember what I told you and you'll be just fine, okay?'

Hirst stepped forward. 'Yeah, and just remember not to try and talk the guy down. He's not going to fall for any of your, "Oh, and I'm a servant of the Divine Empire" stuff. He's out to humiliate you and get your woman.'

'Understood.'

He was just about to turn back and proceed into the arena when Erin moved forward, throwing her arms around his neck, drawing him into a swift embrace. The move came as a surprise to Casius, who stumbled backwards, his wings desperately flapping in a bid to keep himself from toppling over.

'Good luck,' she whispered. Casius slowly wrapped his own arms around her precious physique, pulling her in close. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax, taking a moment to appreciate the wondrous heat that rose between their bodies and Erin's distinctive, feminine scent. Both were intoxicating. 'And please stay safe.'

A few minutes must have passed before she finally pulled away. The warmth melted in an instant, leaving Casius feeling a little cold and disheartened. Still, he couldn't help but wonder how a simple embrace could provide so much comfort and satisfaction.

'I will,' he said. Why was she so worried, anyway? All he was going to do and engage in basic conflict. Sure, he might lose an arm, but was that any reason for unnecessary concern? He would always get it back once he returned home. 'Please do not worry yourselves. I promise to fight with everything I have.'

Erin smiled. 'Well then, that's good enough for me. Now, go kick some undead, magic arse!'

'Yeah!' Hirst proclaimed, punching the air in a gesture of excitement. 'Show no mercy, Cassidy! You kick 'im, and you beat 'im, and you chop off his sorry little d-'

'Hirst!'

'Sorry.' The little Mortal grinned. 'Chop off his dignity, mate!'

Casius acknowledged his words with an affirmative nod. 'I'll do my best.'

With that, he turned on his heels and followed after the guards, who escorted him into the arena. The second he emerged from the mouth of the tunnel, the crowd erupted into a series of cheers and applause.

Casius looked around the arena, taking in the vast collection of unfamiliar faces which screamed and cheered, urging him on. While he knew that a good majority of the people seated were probably supporting his opponent - Wyatt Ortegas - he couldn't help feeling a tad reassured.

Wyatt had already arrived. He stood in the centre of the arena, unarmed, happily watching his opponent's gradual advance. Their gazes met and Casius continued along his way, closing the distance with slow yet determined footsteps.

He came to a rest several feet away and took a moment to stretch his wings, working the hollow bones and muscles beneath his feathers. At the same time, the spectators' cheering diminished somewhat, prompting him to look up towards the rising stands. He was met with a close variety of expressions, which ranged from awe and amazement to shocked and disturbed.

But why were they startled by him? He was nothing spectacular to look at, nor was he particularly frightening.

Some Mortals are so peculiar, he thought. I can't help but wonder what they would look like if they ever met my beloved Papa.

A small balcony stood at the bottom of the stands, enabling the four strangely dressed Mortals sitting within a spectacular view of the arena. One of the Mortals rose from his seat and stepped forward to address the crowd.

'Attention, residents of The Faux!' His booming voice carried effortlessly across the stadium grounds. 'My name is Artemas Jeremiah-Wade, the first appointed leader of the Faux Clan. As stated by the Necromancer's Code, a traditional duel shall only conclude once a victor has been selected. The means of victory can be obtained two ways: the defeated must either yield to his opponent or endure fatality by his enemy's hand. No given rules shall be appointed, although there are some aspects that must be respected by both participants. Mercy must be...'

Averting his gaze from the first leader, Wyatt offered a polite bow. 'Best of luck, angel,' he said, donning a grin that was almost belittling. 'May the best man win.'

Casius nodded, and the necromancer's grin faltered somewhat.

'Just know that if you lose,' Wyatt continued, 'the Necromancer's Code states that I am well within my rights to claim Miss Maelstras as my own, regardless of whether she likes it or not. Think about what you have to lose, angel. Remember what you're fighting for.'

The angel's features darkened at the very mention of Erin's name. 'Do not underestimate me, Mortal,' he growled. 'Erin is my ally and I shall do whatever is necessary to prevent her from becoming your property. If that means slaughtering you here today, then so be it. I will not hesitate to fight to my highest degree...'

'...now, without further ado...' Artemas' voice was but a distant echo.

'...and humiliate you in front of your own people!' Casius thrust out his hand and focused on summoning his trusty weapon. On cue, a gathering of white particles materialised within the palm of his hand and stretched out to mimic the shape of a sword he knew all too well.

Millennial.

Within seconds, the particles diminished to unveil Millennial's true form. Polished steel glistened in the presence of the afternoon sun, which seemed to illuminate the golden hilt at the same time, casting forth a rich glow that bathed the entire arena a vivid yellow.

'...let the duel begin!'

* * *

The ceaseless scratch of the quill was all that kept the silence at bay.

Elric Maelstras was back doing what he hated most: paperwork. Not only was it menial compared to some of the other tasks he was meant to perform, but it also made his wrist sore. Still, there was no point complaining. He just wanted to get it out of the way.

On the other side of the room, Darrius stood, observing his superior as he continued to work, reading through documents and then marking them with his signature.

'May I ask you something, sir?'

Elric looked up. The knight held a look of concern, one that caused even the Champion of Serandore to pause in his tracks. 'Ask away.'

'Do you honestly believe that your sister and her strange companion are capable of seeing this quest through?'

Elric lowered the quill. 'I'd rather you not judge my dear sister based on her rather unfledged, testy personality,' he said, his features hardening. 'It does not define what she capable in terms of magical standards. Although she has yet to see it herself, Erin possesses power and understanding which exceeds even mine.'

'Yours, sir?' Darrius snorted. 'Please don't make such comparisons. Not to place doubt on your words, but you, Sir Elric, are by far the most powerful.' He sighed when Elric looked away, as if ashamed. 'You still haven't told her the truth about Xalvadore, have you?'

'She isn't ready to hear it yet,' Elric muttered. He picked up the quill and resumed upon his task, hoping that doing so might distract him from his own guilt - something that often consumed him whenever his father's name was mentioned. 'I'll tell her one day, Darrius.'

'And when exactly will that be, sir?' Darrius asked.

After a moment's thought, Elric looked up, facing the knight's gaze head on. 'When the time is right.'

* * * *

And so it begins!

A lot happened in this chapter. It turns out that Hirst DOES have a heart (must be all wrinkled and pin-sized >;o) and that Elric is hiding a few Xalvadore-related secrets from his sister! *Gasp*

Any ideas on how this duel might play out? And what do you suppose Elric's dilemma is? Comment below! :D