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Wind blew gently across the field that morning. The sun was bright and the few clouds that floated by were white, puffy perfections of the term. The birds sang beautifully to the cool breeze that punctuated the gently warm air. There was little to be found in that area, the only sign of any sort of habitation being a simple camp that was currently empty. The tents were empty and the circle of stones that housed the campfire still held a small flame, showing that the people in the camp had eaten their breakfast not very long ago. The tents that were gathered in the small area ranged in sizes and they seemed to number enough to hold a group of at least seven people. Eight, if one counted the hammock that hung from the branches of the tree overlooking the camp. A few footprints in the earth showed that the people had left the camp to go out into the field not very long ago. The footprints led to a place where the people from the camp formed a circle around two of their own.


The six people forming the circle stood evenly across from each other, almost as if every person was standing across from one that they could consider a rival. There was a pale man with white hair who wore a white robe and had two black finger-less gauntlets on his hands. Across from him stood a figure dressed completely in black, his entire body seemed to be enveloped in shadow, almost as he was made of darkness itself. Standing to the right of the white haired man was a tall man with a grayish-blue ponytail and an eye-patch over his right eye. His clothing was mostly red and had a certain regal air, yet the ruggedness of a warrior. Across from this man was another who had a short red Mohawk haircut, yet dressed like a casual samurai. His clothing was an even mix of red and gold, an open vest the only covering on his torso. Next to these two men stood two women, in more of a contrast the men had been. The one next to the pony-tailed man had the ears and tail of a cat, and dressed in traditional garb of someone who lived in the jungle. The woman across from her was dressed in a regal manner similar to the pony-tailed man, but in lighter shades.


The two men standing in the middle were obviously the focus of the onlookers. One stood tall with long blonde hair falling across the shoulder plates of his shining silver armor. In his right hand he grasped a large shining sword that seemed to radiate an aura of powerf that complimented the aura of the man himself. Standing opposite of him was a man who seemed his equal opposite. A long, tattered, black cloak flowed behind the blackened metal of his armor. What made this man so different from the rest of the group was the strange, almost teal color of his skin and the long black horns that extended from his forehead. In his right hand he grasped a long black sword with a straight blade on one side, and spikes lining the other. The two men were standing with little more than a few feet between them as they stared into each others eyes. One’s a sparkling blue, the other’s an eerie red set on a black background.


The man with the Mohawk raised his hand in a sort of signal while four of the other five shifted nervously, and the last merely seemed to gaze harder at the two. The two men in the center smiled at each other for a short moment, then in less than a second, the sound of metal echoed as their weapons clashed.