Aedron slammed him again.
"I have to figure out a way out of this, I have to-"
And again.
"This is bad, getting hard to think…-"
And again.
"Can’t-.. I..-"
And again.
“One.. Chanc-“
And again,
The alchemical armor coating Xophorys’s body was keeping his skin and bones from breaking even as Ae’dron relentlessly slammed him around. Out the corner of his eye, the mage could see the cracks forming in the ground from how hard he was hitting, and noticed similar fractures in his own armor. Time was running out, and worse, his exoskeleton did little to protect him from the concussive force his brain was experiencing bouncing around inside of his skull. The most discouraging thing, however, was how the lionkin stared at him. Ae’dron never took his eyes off of Xoph, as if waiting for him to try a new trick. Xoph’s hands fidgeted but it seemed like he just could not cast a spell in time. The human’s eyes were growing heavy-lidded and his responses were sluggish. Ae’dron’s relaxed his grip on his victim just slightly…
And Xoph tried to throw another vial at his face!
The Leo grinned and caught it with his free hand without the bottle breaking. Then he lifted Xoph into the air, leaned back, and snapped his arm down as hard as he could to slam the mage down on his neck. The impact and resounding CRACK drew a gasp from the audience. Xophorys’s armor was falling off his body in shambles and the man was far from conscious, his arms drooping lifelessly. The wildkin kept hold of his leg, but he lifted his head and roared, matched by a chorus of cheering. His roar suddenly turned into a gasp though, as if choking.
An odorless, colorless gas was leaking from the mage’s sleeves.
Xoph had one eye open, and a weak smirk.
Whatever the poison was, Ae’dron could feel it’s effects on his body immediately. His vision swam and his balance started to shift. The wildkin snarled and flicked his arm like snapping a whip, rolling Xoph out of his net and punting the mage to the other side of the arena. Xoph could feel his stomach fold from the impact and his body soared uncontrollably until he crashed hard into the wall. The impact felt like being crushed, his Stoneskin potion had fully shattered, and he could barely catch his breath. Staggering to his feet, the mage looked up to see his opponent wasn’t there anymore, but Ae’dron’s shadow eclipsing his own prompted Xoph to look above.
Aedron had ran, jumped, and bounced off the wall to kick him in the face.
Xoph went tumbling again, the felinus pursued, and the crowd’s cheering reached new heights when Xoph suddenly gathered his feet beneath him and engaged Aedron head-on. The wildkin also seemed taken aback when, instead of retreating, Xoph’s foot swept through the air and cracked the side of his head. He flinched, but reached out quickly to grab that leg- but Xoph was gone. A flash, and the mage was above and behind him, another kick slamming into the back of his head and leaning him forward…
… Right into a backflipping kick to the chin that snapped his gaze up to the sky. The mage’s orb raced around the two, suppling Xophorys with energy so that he could fight without exhausting and allowing him to rapidly teleport before Ae’dron could react. The pattern was working well, with the mage always reappearing at an unexpected angle: a low sweep from behind the legs teleported into a backflip kick atop the head- gone again before Ae’dron’s claws could reach him – only to appear infront of him.
Behind him.
Infront of him, leaving crackling orbs of unstable energy behind with each blink. Once Ae’dron finally got a hold of him, the mage finally exhaled… And the magic bombs exploded so violently that the entire coliseum trembled!
The audience –Khoma’s court included- stared at the edge of their seats as they waited for the dust to settle. The sounds of fighting continued inside of the haze, and the debris was suddenly blown away from a too-powerful lion’s roar.
As the smoke dispersed, it was clear to all who witnessed that this spellcaster had – at some point in his life – been a diligent student of hand-to-hand combat. The combatants’ arms were a blur, their footwork led them in circles, and both had their weapons in hand. Iron staff versus living swords, both refused to give up ground.
Ae’dron sliced through the air with more than enough force to cleave a man in half, forcing Xoph to dance with death on the edge of perfection. He couldn’t hope to try to block the lion’s powerful swings with a staff, so instead he constantly deflected the blade and occasionally used it’s momentum to send the opposite side of the pole at the wildkin, forcing him to react. The two went back and forth, the mage’s every step impeccably keeping him out of Ae’dron’s reach while staying close enough to land a few superficial hits. Xoph knew that striking the lion with wide swings of his blunt weapon was pointless; Ae’dron’s fur, muscles, and bones were far too thick to do any damage. Ontop of that, such angles were not only easier to block and counter, but couldn’t make use of the staff’s full range and put the human dangerously close to Ae’dron’s sword radius. Instead, Xoph shuffled back and forth with quick thrusts, stabbing at Ae’dron’s eyes, knees, fingers and throat.
But the lion was anything but predictable.
The gladiator was watching, measuring, a lifetime of experience reflected in his eyes. His focus was so sharp that it was only a matter of time before he had caught onto Xophorys’s pattern… Or rather, lured Xophorys into a pattern. The fighter couldn’t keep up with the magician’s sporadic movements, but he could tell that Xoph was going for the most efficient and effective strikes every time. Ae’dron swung his left arm across in a wide slash that the weaving mage managed to slip under and swat him in the kidneys, but his other blade was already swinging as he completed his circuit and sliced into Xoph before he managed his next teleport. Ae’dron took a step forward, but was forced to raise his arms defensively to guard his face from an energy blast from above. In that very same second, Xoph surged in from below, a backflip kick to the jaw that Aedron narrowly leaned away from. The lion’s jaws opened wider than a human’s ever could, snapped out and caught his ankle in a bone-curnching bite. With one powerful swing –muscles in his neck straining- he slammed Xophorys down and thrust a blade at the magician’s back.
Xoph vanished a millimeter before being impaled, but Ae’dron had thrown his full force down on the swing, leaving himself dangerously vulnerable and grunting in frustration. Xoph had one chance and he took it, the spellcaster appeared behind him, staff held up, swinging a knockout blow down at the back of the lion’s neck. He could see Ae’dron trying to maneuver in time to defend and could tell that the wildkin wouldn’t be fast enough,
…just as Ae’dron had anticipated.
Xoph never saw the kick- he just felt it. For a moment he thought he had been impaled when his momentum was halted by Ae’dron’s heel deeply embedded in his stomach. The donkey kick crushed through his magical defenses and pushed his intestines into his spine, blasting his breath out of his lungs. His vision had blurred and it wasn’t until he had hit the ground several meters away that he’d even realized what had happened. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure where he was! He could still hear the crowd –at this point, just an incessant screaming in the back of his head- and as his thoughts realigned he could see the king’s court staring down at him as if anticipating his demise. He tried to sit up, but gasped in pain and lay back down as he realized nearly all of the bones in his chest had broken and a lung had collapsed. Wondering why he wasn’t yet dead, a wanting so badly to go to sleep, he relaxed and allowed one of his healing injections to do it’s work.
That kick felt like… Everything. It had to have been one of the most satisfying kicks in Ae’dron’s entire life. He had watched his opponent go flying, skip across the ground like a stone over water, and tumble into a heap. It made him grin, and then roar, raising his arms up as if channeling the audience’s admiration. He winced just a bit, though, surprised at how powerful some of the human’s attacks were. His jaw hurt, and he had a headache from all of the head strikes but he knew he could still keep fighting for hours.
…And he knew that his opponent barely had minutes left.
He considered his nearly-defeated opponent and had to nod his head in respect. The human fought unlike any he had ever faced, and not just because of the magic. When the two fought, they were moving in circles around each other and constantly going up and down, sometimes flipping over each other entirely. Despite all his attempts, Ae’dron hadn’t been able to grab up Xoph again and any time a clever sweep took Xoph’s legs outfrom beneath him he could spin, twist, and pivot to fight as if a feline himself. The oddest thing about the combat, though, was that both Ae’dron and Xoph knew what the other was going to do. There was an uncanny familiarity in their movements that made the gladiator feel as if they had fought together many times before, despite never seeing the unusual human before today…
… Ae’dron’s collar erased the thought.
Xophorys wanted to stop thinking. He just wanted to fight, and win, and go home; just like every other fight. Maybe he didn’t always win, but he always eventually was able to go home. As he lay there on the ground, staring at the sky and fighting for breath, he had to come to terms with the fact that this time would be different: He would never return home again. There was no way to win this, because it was a fight to the death.
To the death.
The mage had killed in self-defense before, but that was not an option this time. Even if he was somehow able to defeat his opponent (a prospect that seemed less and less likely as time went by) he could never kill Ae’dron. Xoph wished for a moment that he also had a collar on so that he too could forget that they were family- at least that way he’d have a chance of survival.
Xoph’s healing potion was doing its work, but the mage questioned if it was worth it. He could feel pops of air from his spine reassembling, his ribs realigning, and his senses returning more clearly.
He heard crying.
The unusual sound drew his attention. He saw the other captives, still huddled inside of the protective field of his second orb with all their eyes on him. Their eyes, their hopes… and their lives, of course. Some were yelling him to get up, cheering him on; one person was weeping. If he died, they’d die, and how many more would his brother slaughter in the name of an overindulgent, uncaring king? Xoph’s lungs had repaired, but he had to consciously remind himself to breathe. Was he being selfish for not allowing himself to fight Ae’dron to the death? If he could stop him here and now –where no one else could- how many lives would be spared as a result? And if their positions were switched and Xoph had been turned into a tool for slaughter, he would want someone to stop him. If it had to end with his life, he would rather it be someone who genuinely cared about him to put him down.
The very thought made his heart ache badly.
Was Ae’dron still in there, somewhere? Trapped by the collar? Could Xoph somehow break it? He knew enough about Valmun to know that the collars would detonate if removed, decapitating the servant, but the mage knew enough about the mechanics of explosions that maybe he could cast a spell in time to divert the energy. Without access to his greater library of magic, destroying the collar was his only hope of survival. If he could do it in a way that allowed him to magically deflect the explosion then his brother would survive.
If not, Ae’dron would die, yet so many more would live.
…So be it.
The wildkin started to walk forward, but hesitated. He could feel a tingling in the front of his face, around his cheek area that warned him of magic in the environment. His ear twitched, and he pivoted away from what seemed like a cannonball shooting towards his back. It was that damn orb again, interjecting itself between Xoph and Ae’dron. He took a step, it followed. He stopped, it stopped. The lion narrowed his eyes,
He jumped left. It copied.
He jumped right. It copied.
He faked left and pumped right.
The orb followed, or tried to. By the time it was able to adjust, Ae’dron was already springing forward, twisting past the intercepting orbuculum, and racing towards the prone mage who was only now slowly starting to rise. Xoph’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to be using his blood to trace a glowing sigil on the ground around him. Ae’dron knew he wouldn’t make it in time, so instead he lifted one of his swords and launched it at him like a spear. The vine-like growths on the sword’s handle wrapped around the wildkin’s wrist as the blade flew, allowing him to yank it back after it sliced across Xoph’s face, close to his eye.
The mage didn’t flinch, his focus was absolute, but he was forced to abandon his spell when the blade whipped back in behind him. Xoph tumbled to his feet and pointed both hands towards Ae’dron, firing concussive energy blasts as if his palms were cannons. Ae’dron -deceptively agile for his size- dodged with a sideways flip and raced in on all fours as his anatomy shifted feline. Xoph’s orb chased like a dragonfly, shooting in ways that hade the lion leaping and blocking wildly. Anytime he got anywhere near to close to Xoph, the mage would teleport even further away and the projectile barrage continued.
Xoph took a moment to quaff another potion, this one blue, but winced against his body’s gag-reflex. Potions, like all medicine, could be poison in too high dosages. His body was reaching its chemical limit.
The crowd’s follow boos felt like tangible hatred against him.
“I thought we were having a decent fight!” Ae’dron yelled to him, “and now you resort back to moving like a coward?” The taunt singed Xoph’s pride, but the mage responded with a shrug and smile. “I’m fighting you with half of my strength,” he pointed towards where his second orb was shielding the bystanders, “and the other half is dedicated to protecting the others.” A reckless idea crossed his mind, dependent entirely on how well he knew his brother. “Do I have your word that you won’t harm them?”
“What?” Ae’dron responded.
“Do I have your word tha-“
“Just get over here and fight me!”
“…No.”
“Are you serio-…Ugh. If I wanted to ‘harm’ them, I would have by now!” An annoyed snarl undertoned Ae’dron’s words.
Xophorys smiled at that. He knew that the lion would honor his word. He was infront of Ae’dron in a flash, staff spinning through the air to come down on his head. The gladiator raised a left-handed block, his right stabbing in and forcing Xoph to turn his staff and deflect. Ae’dron pressed, chopping down hard with his left, forcing Xoph backwards, and he pivoted just in time to avoid the mage’s retreating thrust. He came in too close for Xoph to guard, gashing him across the leg with one sword and knocking his defending hand wide with the other. The mage teleported again, to his left, and attacked at his knee. Ae’dron raised his leg to avoid, but Xoph appeared on his other side, staff sweeping his balancing foot out from beneath him. Ae’dron landed cat-like on his hands, a foot snapping in upside-down that Xoph barely managed to block with his forearms.
The two vanished on impact. They reappeared ten meters in the air, spinning wildly with Xoph having a hold of Ae’dron’s ankle. Xoph couldn’t help but feel invigorated by the cheering when he threw the large gladiator down to the ground. The wildkin’s feline spine twisted so that he landed on his hands again, but Xoph was already there, staff slamming into Ae’dron’s collar, smashing his throat.
That hurt him.
The lion rolled to his feet, Xoph charged in behind him, and Ae’dron sprang straight up into the air, leaned back and reached downwards, and grabbed Xophorys mid-flip the same way that the human had grabbed the gargoyle. Ae’dron landed on his feet, carried the momentum –and his hostage- all the way over, and inverted himself to slam the human upside-down.
Xoph teleported them both into the air again, and they tumbled head over heels until Ae’dron landed hard on the back of his neck and let the mage go. Xoph vaulted to his feet, breathing heavily, and Ae’dron rose behind him. Xophorys could see the hints of a crack on Ae’dron’s collar. He smiled. The lion quickly recovered and surged towards him again. Xophorys ran towards Ae’dron with the iron staff back in his hands.
Right before they clashed someone just… appeared between them.
Ae’dron hesitated, Xoph didn’t. His staff jabbed right past the terrified person, teleporting them out of the way to slam into Ae’dron’s throat. The lion growled and quickly snatched the weapon, yanking the mage in with him. His sword tore into Xoph, ripping past his defenses and drawing a line of blood across his ribs. A second slash cut into his collarbone despite his attempts to block. A third…
Another bystander appeared.
Ae’dron snarled and swung, but his split-second pause was enough for Xophorys to vanish. People kept appearing all around the lion and the wildkin’s surprise had melted into frustration as he swung at them. They looked as surprised too, but always were recalled away in time to avoid being butchered. The gladiator realized the distraction, and when he turned his attention back to the mage, he could see a glowing ring of power beneath Xoph. The spellcaster was too far away to interrupt by throwing his sword, so Ae’dron reached to his belt and pulled an ornate razor-edged chakram out of the belt’s front engraving. He threw it at the mage, running behind the large ring and ignoring the rest of the humans.
Xoph’s eyes were closed in a meditative focus. Glowing runes engraved across his spine, arms and legs and poured their commands into the circle beneath him. The chakram soared in, Xoph’s eyes snapped open and he weaved it’s edge by a hairs breath. Ae’dron charged in behind, leaping into the air with both swords held in a reverse-grip to stab into his victim. Xoph looked up at him, his expression placed, and then fell into the ground moments before the blades struck.
Into the ground.
After catching the returning ringblade, Ae’dron stood over where Xophorys had been, crouched defensively and waiting for the next surprise. He could feel the tingles of magic and could smell the scent of the mage right below the surface. The lionkin knew that the human was likely using this opportunity to heal up again, but he also knew that Xoph’s body couldn’t handle many more potions. The man was on his last legs and desperate, and so-
The ground exploded.
The audience gasped.
The audience screamed!
A massive pillar of carved stone erupted beneath Ae’dron, lifting the wildkin into the air. The speed of the rise forced the lion down to one knee to keep his stability, and five smaller pillars emerged out of the top of the main one, molding and sculpting until they looked like fingers. The statue –which was an arm- had the lion in it’s palm and closed over him before he could escape. The mage hovered in the air besides the sculpture, a blue aura coating over his body as both of his orbs oscillated around him. The stone fist moved along with his glyphic right arm, and so Xoph pantomimed slamming his fist into the ground.
The sculpture smashed into the ground like a hammer, a bit of blood erupting from between the fingers.
Xoph smiled sadly, and did it again. A wave of nausea passed over him.
And again,
and again,
and again… Or so he tried. The hand would burst open on the fourth attempt, the roaring wildkin covered in his own blood. He was clearly angry, was finally showing wear from the battle, and his gaze was locked on Xoph. He moved to leap off the statue when a second hand emerged out of the ground besides the first, and the two giant stone fists clapped together. The gladiator fought hard against the crushing force, the unyielding stone getting closer and closer. Ae’dron could feel bones starting to crack, Xoph hovered down in front of him with hands in his pockets.
“Hey… Ae’dron?” He asked, in a way he was certain his brother should’ve remembered. The lion responded in his native tongue, which to Xoph sounded like snarls and roars. He understood the gist, though, and realized the warrior was spitting curses at him.
Xoph looked up for a moment at Khoma and sighed, he had been trying hard to keep his affiliation with Ae’dron a secret. He spoke with a heavy heart “A’.” He began, using an old nickname. “My brother… Please-“ He had to pause when Ae’dron roared in his face, the lion’s arms were shaking badly trying to resist the inexorable press. Xoph’s expression grew more desperate, “Please, remember me. Tell me you recognize me! I don’t want to have to…”
(“Yall are nothing but scheming cowards! Pieces of shit! I swear to the gods every human, every mage I ever see from now on will be SLAUGHTERED!” He roared in Wildcommon. Xoph closed his eyes, trying to take the words to heart, trying to use them to fight against the insurmountable guilt he felt. He hovered backwards and didn’t make eyecontact as he held his arms out infront of him.
“I’m so sorr-“ He could feel tears. He fought them.
“KISS MY ASS!” Were the last words Ae’dron said before the hands crushed him.
King Khoma was standing. Actually standing! He was at the edge of the railing and leaning so hard that his attendants were afraid he might spill right over. His eyes were wide as he stared down into the battlefield, the giant stone hands sprouting out of the ground almost reached up to his podium. There hadn’t been a point in the battle where Khoma wasn’t confident that Ae’dron could defeat Xophorys, but now the magic abuse was starting to grow out of control. “Shut it off.. Remove it!” Khoma demanded at Ilyak, and when no immediate response was forthcoming
“S-sir..” Ilyak couldn’t meet the King’s eyes.
Khoma’s glare promised death if Ae’dron died.
“Shut. The. Magic. OFF!” His anger reflected as pain. All of his advisors suddenly lurched in agony as Khoma’s crown radiated his rage to his nearby subjects. Ilyak tried to respond. “S-sir I am… T-trying but.. Pardon my weakness. Your wrath is… Distracting.” The prostate disenchanter explained, and Khoma removed the pressure on their brains. As Ilyak rose, he tried to act as if nothing happened and turned his attention to the battle. He held out his staff and pointed his free palm down at Xophorys.
… And nothing happened. Ilyak could feel Khoma’s stare at the side of his head.
“It.. It will take some time.” The disenchanter admitted. It was true enough, so the King could tell that he wasn’t lying, but the whole truth was that Ilyak was amazed by how much raw ether Xoph was exhibiting. The disenchanter had several different methods for cancelling magic, including redirecting and absorbing it, and yet even wth all of that it was still a slow process to fully disable Xophorys. That gave Ilyak an unnerving clue about Xoph’s heritage.
Khoma was not a patient king. He focused his thoughts towards Ae’dron while the wildkin struggled against the spellcaster and communicated with him mentally. “You are LOSING! To a human!”
“Shut up,” came the disrespectful response.
“Tch, insolence! You will address me as- Actually, no, I command you to live through this first!”
“I will!”
“Not if you don’t return to your natural form.” The King’s anger was contagious
“This IS my natural form.”
“ No. I will not lose you to pride! Shift, now.”
“No!”
“Ae’dron!” Khoma’s outrage fueled Ae’dron’s.
“KISS MY ASS!” Ae’dron thought. “KISS MY ASS!” Ae’dron screamed.
King Khoma balked at the audacity.
The giant hands pressed together, but could not connect. The stone shuddered as it tried to close, but a roar preempted a sudden burst of force that pushed the stone hands wide open and Ae’dron hit the ground much larger than he was before.
The wildkin had reverted to his primal form: a beast in humanoid shape. He stood well over nine feet with shoulders too wide to fit through most doorframes. Goldenrod and brown fur covered his frame and his padded hands ended in large claws. His head had lost all semblance of human shape, entirely akin to a lion’s and his locs formed a full mane over his neck. While he still had human-shaped “hands” his legs and feet were more akin to a feline’s. Like most Jiranian armor, his outfit adjusted to accommodate his transformation. Ae’dron could hear the renewed stomping and cheering from the audience, but it meant nothing to him in that moment.
The two giant stone arms pushed down against the ground and a large stone head, shoulders, and back lifted from the floor. The golem rose large enough to cast a shadow over the arena floor, its size and weight making even the fearsome Ae’dron look more like a newborn kitten. The audience had to shield themselves from the sudden spray of dust when the construct lifted its arm into the air. Ae’dron squatted before launching towards the golem’s face in one great leap. Xoph, nestled safely in the construct’s chest, willed it to punch. He figured Ae’dron’s pride would demand him to test his strength against the golem’s and was completely surprised when he saw the lionkin somehow pivot out of the way of the fist in the air. It was as if the wind currents were protecting the beastman.
Ae’dron didn’t seem to notice, and as the stone fist passed beneath him, he touched down and began to run up the arm. He dashed higher and higher, the ground seeming so far away, and sensed the other hand coming in to swat him off the arm as if an insect. Ae’dron pitched himself over the side, jamming a sword into the stone and riding it down to the underside of the arm. He had to grip tightly against the impact when the golem slapped above him, and snarled when he saw an orb race around to where he was. Xoph appeared in a flash, throwing a magic-infused kick into his face and almost knocking Ae’dron off the golem. The gladiator quickly retaliated but Xoph vanished in time, so the lion continued his mad race up the golem. He felt his balance shift and noticed the arm itself breaking apart. He cursed and jumped again, this time from stone to stone as he fought to get closer. Xoph appeared in the air, shooting at him but Ae’dron brought up his buckler to defend and forced the mage to teleport away by throwing his chakram at him. The race continued, up the disintegrating forearm and across the bicep. When the opposite hand came in to slap him again, Ae’dron shocked everyone when he turned around and punched it (Punched it!) away so hard that it shattered.
Xoph didn’t come out this time, but it didn’t matter, with one last leap Ae’dron had made it to the head of the golem. The lion brought both his swords together and in less than a second they shifted into one singular greataxe. The golem tried to lean away, but Ae’dron was too close, too fast, and all his muscles worked as one to snap his axe down into –and THROUGH- the golem’s head, cleaving it in two.
But Xophorys was in it’s chest.
The headless golem’s one good hand swung in and smacked Ae’dron down to the ground. He landed on his feet, but the giant fist pressed down on him. Xophorys was out of time and mana, he knew that he couldn’t fight for much longer. The golem was already beginning to fall apart, so Xoph forced his will into this final assault. The golem crushed Ae’dron, but Ae’dron resisted. The two struggled, the ground shook, and it seemed like all the world had eyes on the two brothers.
Ae’dron could feel his legs shaking, his arms were growing numb and shoulders were on fire. He could resist the giant but didn’t have the strength to push it off of him. One knee buckled, and the wildkin’s back strained to keep him from falling over. Somewhere in the distant back of his mind, Ae’dron knew that there was no surviving this. His head ached, his fractured collar buzzed incessantly in his ear, and he didn’t have the energy to push further. He rejected that logic though, screaming and pushing with his shoulders, somehow getting his leg under him and standing on two feet again as he roared and pushed to deny his fate.
So Xoph pushed harder.
And Ae’dron was down again, and falling fast. Death approached, memories flashed -his collar erased them- and then everything went black. So one last time he inhaled, chest expanding and head leaning back…
Xoph teleported infront of him, energy-infused hands reached in and grabbed his collar and,
…Ae’dron roared a hurricane.
The catastrophic shout was like nothing anyone there had ever witnessed. The roar blasted away the stone arm, blasted the golem, and blasted away Xoph. Ae’dron distantly heard a burst, felt a shock of pain throughout his whole body, and he roared even louder. Veins pulsed across his body, his muscles ached, yet the lion roared even louder.
The wind had everyone but the King’s court ducking for cover. Ilyak stood before Khoma and the others to enact a defensive shield, and still winced at the amount of pressure Ae’dron was creating. Wildkin absolutely couldn’t cast spells, so for the second time today the disenchanter was baffled about what he was witnessing in the arena.
When Ae’dron was at last out of breath, he found himself back in his more human form. He dropped to his knees, hyperventilating, and looked up to see a massive scar in the earth where the golem was. Dust still swirled in the air, and the humans Xophorys was protecting were huddled up unscathed. He walked over to the debris and scooped up the mage by the shirt with one hand. Xoph had one eye half-open, his body seemed mostly limp, but he was smiling.
“Heh..” He chuckled, a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth and wounds all over his body. His cracked voice was barely a whisper, “I did it..”
Too breathless to banter, too exhausted to care what the human was talking about, Ae’dron raised his sword level with Xoph’s face. The mage’s smile persisted, and the last thing he saw was his brother -free of the slave collar- before everything went black.
The last thing he heard was the crowd cheering his death.