Akashic Arcana The Boiling Point of Rage

Craig Leo

The Betrayer of Hope and Devourer of Donuts
@Zangyl

Melle didn't bother to bring his music to today's workout session. The only music he needed was the sound of his padded fists colliding with the heavy punching bag. Each impact came quickly one after the other, following a rhythm buried deep in his mind and the resulting sounds filled the gym with his very own song.

It had taken him about 10 minutes to get into the right rhythm as he'd found that he hadn't particularly enjoyed the morning. It started when he wasn't able to secure his favorite breakfast, or his favorite breakfast spot. Despite the slow start, he'd already worked up quite the sweat and was feeling both amped and relaxed at the same time. His workout attire, a simple tank top and a pair of sweat pants, also helped keep him in a good mood.

Melle worked his way through his routine silently, letting himself slowly get lost in the repetition of hitting the heavy bag.

"Hey, look who it is. It's the old man." A voice cut through the noise of the gym, causing Melle to instantly stop what he was doing and turn around. He was facing two third year students. The speaker wore a wild smile and his friend didn't seem to know what to do. "Better be careful hitting that bag so hard. You'll break a hip."

The student that had spoken was laughing and not even a very stern glare from Melle was able to silence it. Only when his friend spoke, failing to keep a whispered tone, did the laughing stop. "Are you crazy?! Don't bother this guy. I've heard he's killed people."

"Hah! As if he could beat me. He's just all bark." the third year student eyed Melle with a look of disgust. "I saw his last fight with Christian. He got his ass beat, hands down."

Melle could hear his teeth grinding against each other, the sounds melding together with the popping of his knuckles. His glare could've set people ablaze.

"It was such an easy fight, too. I heard Christian say that he didn't even need to try. Talked about how he could probably beat Old Man Melle in his sleep."

"He said what!?" Melle's shout may not have been has deep or gruff as it could've been, but the intensity of it was enough to make up for the higher tone of his voice.

"No! He didn't say anything like that. Honest. This guy just likes to make things up." The loud mouth's friend tried to cool things down, but the damage had been done. Melle was way too angry to have heard what he tried to clarify.

Spinning around, Melle threw one last punch at the bag and his anger fueled punch lifted it off of the ground. The sound it made echoed through the gym like a gunshot, silencing the entire room.

Melle stormed off, heading straight for Christian's office.

10 minutes later, his anger still boiling, Melle burst through the doors of that office. He was shouting before the doors even fully opened.

"Alright you pompous bastard! I've had it with you and thinking you're better than all of us just because you're some royalty. You and me! Right now."
 
Christian’s blue eyes shot up towards the door as it burst open. His sensitive ears were ringing due to the intensive shouting and one, carefully sculpted eyebrow slowly raised. He looked and... well... listened to the student that had come barging in. Whilst his heart was beating fast and without control due to the sizable scare he got from the bursting door, he tried to regain some of his calmth by slowing his breathing and controlling it properly. After the student - whom he had immediately recognized - was done ranting and shouting, he spoke calmly;

“Good afternoon, mister Wauters.” He looked at him; his blue eyes calm and seemingly piercing his very being. After a small moment of silence, he spoke again; “Wealth isn’t the only thing your family has lost after the war, it seems.” He lowered the raised brow and took a sip of his Coke, before continuing; “Now, i know its hard to know etiquette by heart, but i never expected the proud Wauters-family to have lost any and all sense of respect.” He said the latter with a mix of surprise and something akin to disgust. He then stood up and stepped away from his desk; taking off his suit’s jacket, and pulling up his dress-shirt’s sleeves, revealing strong forearms that ended into lithe hands...

“Well then, what’s next?”
 
Melle's face reddened as Christian spoke. The calm, biting words that the noble-born had spoken of his family were far more effective than any insult that could've been directly thrown at him. His fists clenched, knuckles popping even more loudly in the silence that had followed Christian's comment

"What next?" Melle was no longer shouting. His rage going in a complete full circle until it came all the way back to calm. This was a dangerous calm, hiding the true storm that was waiting to be unleashed. "I'm going to beat your face, then send you crying back home to your precious little mother. "

I'll prove to everyone once and for all that my house, that my ancestors should never be forgotten. Melle's thoughts were still there, urging him forwards, driving him. Anything else had been drowned out by the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears.
 
Christian had remained calm as Melle spoke; his breathing under control and his ears ringing no longer.

However, when Melle spoke about Christian’s mother, his expression hardened, his lips stiff and forced as he spoke;

“My ‘precious little mother’, is your queen.” The words were spoken as if they were hot; drooling with disgust towards Melle once more. His arms, hidden under the suit’s white dress-shirt, were flexed, and Christian quietly glared at Melle; his blue eyes shimmering dangerously...
 
Melle let out a loud and bitter laugh and thick as it was with sarcasm, it didn't come with the benefits of lifting his spirit. Instead, the sound burrowed itself into the pit of his stomach, adding a slow burning fuel to the fire that had already been raging.

"Your mother," Melle emphasized those words, spitting them out as if they were the most disgusting thing he'd ever been forced to say in his life. "isn't even fit to run the cafeteria, let alone our once great country. You and your family have been nothing but a black mark in it's history and once you take over, we probably won't have a country left to call him."

Melle sneered, looking around the office with short glances. He didn't want to take his eyes off of Christian just in case he took a cheap shot. "Let's take this to the outside. This office is nice. I wouldn't want to destroy it, because one day this will be mine."
 
“You’ll regret uttering such words, mister Wauters.” Christian said; immediately walking towards the door that had made so much noise mere minutes ago. “We’ll go to the arena, where we’ll duel.” He noted; making his way over there, not even bothering to look back to check if Melle was even following.

“The audacity! The audacity to speak about his queen, my mother, in such a respectless, vile way!”

He thought as he walked; his breathing still controlled, but slow no longer. His blue eyes went from left to right as he made his way towards the arena and he felt the anticipation towards the duel, which dominated his thoughts.

“It’ll be you against me. No weapons other than our magic.” Christian said as he and Melle arrived at the arena’s door. He knew which arena they would be using, and snickered quietly as he realized that it would be a interesting fight to watch.

Christian then pulled-open the door into the arena; allowing Melle to pas through a portal which would take him inside.

After Melle went through; Christian followed.

The arena they were now in, was dividend by a thick, long and fast-flowing river. Its bedding was comprised of sharp rocks that looked like they could break and ruin someone’s back.

Christian walked towards the waterline; smiling brightly. He breathed in, thinking:

‘Nerones... once again, we meet at the shores...’

His blue eyes; now determined and shimmering with power, were focussed on Melle. Christian’s jaw, ever so strong and covered with stubble, was tensed up completely in anticipation of the battle to come...
 
Melle remained silent as they traveled to Christian's arena of choice. The trash talking of the event was over, anymore words would simply delay the real reason he'd been there: the fight. The closer they got to the arena, the larger his smile grew and the harder his heart began to beat.

Don't get nervous now, don't think about anything else. Focus on the fight. Win this damn thing.

His mental pep talk took place in the distant crevices of his mind. The rage that had been building up inside of him was still there, waiting to be fully unleashed upon Christian. Yet there had been something else as well, a much more complex emotion that had been slowly working its way into his very being: excitement. This fight, no... all the fights he had with Christian were exciting for him. And it wasn't always because he could inflict pain on someone he hated.

His focus entirely on the fight, Melle didn't give an opinion on the arena. Instead, he simply walked into it and took his position across from Christian. Letting the anticipation build. The tension in the air almost tangible.

Melle struck first, unfurling a his water whip out of thin air and lashing it out towards Christian's legs. The stream of water was malleable in its integrity, but it was as solid and thick as a rope. The surface was almost sticky, clinging to objects rather than sliding off.

If his attempt was successful, he'd yank Christian down to the ground, legs tangled up in the whip.
 
“Gios, praesidium!”

Christian chanted; calling forth a wall of earth that arose from the ground and shielded him from the wip that was aimed at his legs. A loud noise; akin to a whip making contact with its target, could be heard as it impacted into the shield.

Christian smiled, happy he managed to block the attack. He then began to chant again, his voice carried towards Melle as it increased its timbre.

“Gios, audi vocem meam auxilium; dona mihi potestatem tuam essentia!”

Immediately after, he pulled away one-third of the wall he had called forth before, swirled it around himself and then pointes at Melle; a grin adorning his pretty lips.

The part of the wall, now loose from its foundation, flew towards Melle, desc Pieces of rock crumbled and got loose; falling back down to earth.

If it were to get close to Melle, it would shatter into smaller pieces that would all cause Blunt trauma...

 
Melle visualized the vast stores of mana that existed inside of him as a rampaging river. The river stretched as far as his mind's eye could see and it was as violent and powerful as the anger he seemed to constantly feel. He knew that if he carelessly tried to draw upon that river of power, it'd drag him under and he'd never again see the light of day. Instead, he handled it with care, threading out a small bit of that power: a sliver in comparison to the whole, and he used that to preform his next spell.

Instead of moving or trying to dodge Christian's attack, he followed in the man's example: Melle summoned his own wall of water. The geysers springing up from the ground, reaching high enough that the pieces of the wall impacted it instead. Though it wasn't a solid wall, his spell was more than strong enough to absorb the impact and deflect any stray pieces that had enough velocity to punch through it.

Melle's next attack came right after. He pointed a finger towards where he had remembered Christian being and channeled another large flow of water. This time though, he concentrated the flow down to the size of a standard # 2 pencil. The concentrated blast of water was more than capable of piece through his wall, and the rock wall that Christian had summoned. It aimed to take him in the shoulder and piece all the way through it.
 
The sudden erupting of geysers and the succesfull deflection of his attack surprised Christian; his eyes wide as he watched how suddenly a thin stream of water seemed to be directed at him. His mouth shifted to a lopsided grin as he chanted;

“Ignae, dona mihi praesidium!”

Immediately after; a burst of fire broke through the solid ground; seemingly from the depths of the Earth itself. It made a loud whistling noise, and scorched the remaining part of the wall.

The stream of water - which would’ve hurt Christian if he didn’t ask for Ignae’s help - connected with the wall of fire; a loud, disturbing hissing and the whistle of steam echoing over the area. Christian strafed left; a trail of sparks following his posture; lingering in the air as he yelled;

“Ignae!”

He then made a swinging-motion with his left arm; effectvely pulling the fire from his shield, bundling it into a ball of fire which moved around him with a big arch and then pointes at Melle; sending the fiery ball right into his face.

Christian panter; the sudden burst of activity having surprised both him and his body.

If the ball of fire would connect; it would set Melle aflame; or atleast burn any remaining water around him to such a intensity it turns into extremely hot steam, which in turn would hurt him aswell.

Christian looked at Melle; his blue eyes following the ball’s route...
 
Melle decided to take a risk: while Christian prepared his next volley, he did so as well.

Keeping up his wall of water was a decidedly difficult task and every second that passed Melle could feel his mana draining. That rampaging river was slowly turning into a flood, the difficulty of managing increasing. Thankfully, one of the things he had learned throughout the years he'd been studying was how to split his mind and work separate tasks at once.

In his right hand, Melle formed one of his water grenades. Or in this case, it was more similar to a Claymore mine but it was only the size of his palm. As Christian was throwing his ball of fire towards him, Melle lobbed the water grenade high into the air, launching it over his wall and hopefully out of Christian's line of sight. The grenade would explode once it got closer to Christian and if he didn't get out of the way in time, it'd carry the same impact that a punch would from a heavyweight boxer.

As for Christian's attack, the moment it connected with the wall of water, Melle knew nothing but pain. The explosion of steam that came from the attack, filling his mind with so much pain that he wanted to collapse. Instead, at that moment, his rage kicked in and he found himself bursting out of the cloud of hot steam, ignoring the 2nd degree burns that now covered his body.

Melle charged towards Christian, whether or not his grenade had been successful. His mouth opened in a war cry as his mind forced itself to ignore his own body and it's screams of pain.
 
Christian had already ran away from the place where the water grenades impacted; now standing still, he noticed how Melle came bursting through the walls of water; rage on his face whilst his skin seemed to have been boiled-off.

“Oh my...” Christian exclaimed; covering his mouth with one arm as he took a more stable stance; preparing to ripost any incoming attack. He couldn’t take his gaze off of his countrymen’s boiled, second-degree burns; the mere sight filling his mind with regret; he didn’t like causing such injuries. The warcry that accompanied Melle reached Christian aswell, making sure he realised Melle means it...
 
Melle didn't feel the pain of his injuries, he didn't even notice the blood seeping out from the patches of skin or from the blisters he had popped due to his mad sprint. All he noticed was his target: Christian. The Prince was just standing there, not retaliating, not moving. He even looked disgusted, or saddened for some reason.

Melle didn't really notice that.

Instead of slowing down to launch his next wave of attacks, Melle took a more direct approach: he lowered his shoulder, and charged straight into Christian. If allowed, he'd lift the man off the ground and then slam him into it with the entire weight of his body. Melle wanted to be able to mount him and straight raining down punches on his Prince.
 
Christian wasn’t prepared for such a attack; his eyes widened when he felt Melle against his body and he yelped quietly when he was being lifted into the air.

“W-What are you-...” He tried to cry out; before landing on his back on the cold floor. The feeling of having Melle sitting down on him; gearing down preparing to hit him caused him to slip into a automatic state of response;

“Nerones...”

He whispered; and immediately after a pillar, or Well; stream of water erupted from its source; rushing towards Melle. The water would pull him up from Christian, pull him off of him and smack him down into the ground; soaking him thourougly...
 
Melle was too caught up in his rage to see Christian's lips whisper the words he needed for his attack. So he was completely caught unaware, mid-punch, when the stream of water lifted him up into the air and then smashed him into the ground.

The impact took the air out of his lungs and the pain that seared through his entire body brought him to the brink of unconsciousness. It was only the feeling of being submerged in water and his pure anger that kept him from succumbing to that darkness.

Melle's arms shot up into the air, fighting against the stream of water and he commanded the water dissipate. He strained with all of his mental strength, demanding that the water bow down before his spirit. The water spirits had chosen him, his whole life was the water, his family ruled the oceans. He could not lose when it came to that!

In a split second, Melle was able to piece through the water, all it took was a crack for him to break the spell, forcing the water to dissipate and fall away from him. What the water left behind was a soaked, bloody mess of a man. All the burnt, dead flesh having been violently ripped off by the stream of water.

Melle tried to get up onto his feet, his legs shaky and weak. He wasn't sure how hard he'd hit his head, nor was he really aware of how much pain he was in. He knew he was thirsty though. Dehydration was already starting to kick in.

He stumbled to his knees.

"Bastard," Melle growled, shooting a death glare at his Prince. His anger was boiling again, the pain slowly subsiding, his vision blurring. He began gathering his mana into his hands, getting ready for an all out attack. "I'm not going to lose to you."
 
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“Ofcourse you’re not, mister Wauters.” Christian skillfully riposted. He was not enjoying the fight; he knew that all Melle wanted was to defect him. Christian wouldn’t let that happen.

He simply stood there; looking down at Melle as he looked up at him. Christian didn’t feel good; he felt awfull, really. He hated it when students tried to prove themselve to hard; it mostly ending up with said student hurt quite severily.

So he waited; glancing over Melle.
 
Melle smiled. His smile was one of determination, his will to win this fight giving him the ability to do things that weren't very smart. Things that may win him the fight, but could also leave him pretty wounded as well. It was the smile of a man that knew he had a trick card up his sleeve, or rather, dripping off his sleeve.

The water that Christian had just drenched him with, to the water that now covered the ground to the river that it had come from. He had connected himself to them, letting his inner water spirits form a bond with the river. And into that river Melle poured him energy. He poured too much energy, more than necessary. All at once, in one frantic push that bordered on idiotic. He could feel his mouth growing dry the moment it happened. He turned the river into his bomb.

The the river exploded outwards, like being shot out of a cannon. A whole section of the river, every single once of water would suddenly be thrusted right at Christian. The force and speed of the attack would make it feel like he was hit by a truck and could definitely have a chance of out right knocking him out and ending the fight.
 
A whispering; a voice as frail as water but as powerfull as its current, crept into Christian’s mind, saying;

‘O rector aquarum ne abicias consilium nam qui ex vobis est paratus pro viribus meis, ut tandem abutere...’

He didn’t know what Nerones - whose voice was in his mind - meant; instead he felt it: the need to run, to hide, to brace.

Determined to succesfully dodge the attack, Christian began to chant;

‘Nerones, da mihi vota mea corporalis ducis; agendi locus!’

Whilst he chanted in a ancient language forgotten by all, Melle could hear his words directly into his mind. However, these words weren’t Christian’s; for it were the Water Elemental Spirits themselves who were talking;

‘Nerones; grant me my wish of you taking over my corporeal form; to act in my place.’

Christian intensified his chanting as he saw how the water came rushing in; and when it hit him; it silence him.

It didn’t knock him out, nor didn’t hurt him too bad; instead Christian was making use of the current; influencing it, morphing it, untill it was shaped into a thick stream around him. His eyes, already blue; were now as blue as the oceans and seas themselves.

“Don’t you ever insult my family like you did today, ever again.” Christian spoke; panting as the power needed for such a spel was draining him fast. He then pointed at Melle; and screamed a warcry, immediately after falling down onto his knees.

He watched as the powerfull stream of water, further enhanced by Nerones - the ancient Elemental Water Spirit - herself, rushed towards Melle and hit him right in his chest; pushing him back several long meters...

“Don’t you... ever again... insult my mother.”

Christian said one last time; the intense gleam in his eyes having dissipated fully.
 
Melle tried to force himself back onto his feet, fighting against his fatigued body in a vain attempt to get himself to dodge out of the way of Christian's attack. If it hadn't been for the strain he'd put on himself, especially with his last attack, he would've been able to easily deal with the straight-forward attack that the Prince had launched. Instead though, he got to watch in what felt like slow motion, as the stream of water made it's way towards him and collided into his chest.

Melle's mind went blank the moment he was engulfed in the powerful stream of water. His anger, his fear, even his own conscious thought seemed to fade away until there was only a single emotion left for him to feel: pride. Pride in his abilities as an elementalist, pride in his ability to fight, his ability to persevere.

He was the strongest member in his family, of his entire house, in what seemed like hundreds of years. He carried his house's pride.

Melle pushed back against the spell, forcing his will back against the very spirit of the water, demanding that it obey its true master. Thousands of years of pride, of mastery flowed this his veins. All of it was thrust against the raging waters of Christian's attack, slowly but surely dampening it's power. He was going to push his way through this spell, he would win this fight.

In his mind, Melle give himself up to the raging river of mana that flowed through him, letting its overwhelming power completely fill his body to the breaking point. He took that power though, his unconscious mind working it back against Christian's spell, pushing the spirits to their limit.

He could feel the spell start to break, the water elements fractions of a second from succumbing to his will. Of becoming his once again.

He just needed a little more.

But Melle didn't have anything left to give. Right on the verge of being able to break himself free of Christian's attack, his bloody and exhausted body finally gave up. Unconsciousness taking over as the remaining strength of the water attack threw his limp body across the ground in a rather unforgiving fashion.
 
Christian looked at Melle as he was thrown back quite a distance.

“Oh... shit...” He said as he noticed how Melle’s body was ragdolling and tumbling all over the ground. He stood up; hurrying towards where Melle was, hoping to be able to help him.

As he got there, he was panting; having used the majority of his mana. He looked at Melle’s unconsious body and pulled forth his white with silver inlays personal device; pushing a button that looked like a big, red cross. The button flashed for a while, before a voice could be heard;

“Emergency assistance dispatched.”

After the voice disappeared, Christian put his personal device back and sat down on his knees next to Melle, saying;

“Be smart and don’t do this again.” He then got quiet for a while, before noting quietly;

“You fought admirably. Such improvement...”

He then looked back; somewhat surprised when a doctor stepped out of a portal and approached Melle and Christian...
 
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