The riddle proved simpler than he had expected, and Mithras smiled in satisfaction as the robed man hissed in annoyance. Although he was powerful and excelled in martial combat, he was no fool. For that he was rewarded with critical information on the nature of his opponent, one who claimed godhood. This 'Goddess of Blood' was likely some otherworldly spirit or primal force brought into being, and he hoped her illustrious title wasn't a mere decoration. If she dared to call herself a goddess, then he would hold great expectations for her. Mithras was physically ready to enter the arena, but there was one particular detail which made this fight a formidable challenge. It was the so-called goddess' dominion over blood. Her ability to bleed a man dry would prove troublesome, and that would limit the approach the lion-headed lord could take. He was not adverse to injury, but in this case, injury was not an option. There was no doubt that a being with mastery over blood would focus on attacks aimed to induce bleeding to give itself the advantage. He would have to abandon the thought of allowing her to come close enough to do just that.

As there was no rule against challenging the creatures in groups, Mithras' crimson eyes scanned the area for warriors who would seem more willing to join the bout. He expected refusal to his request–either out of fear, distrust, or pride. Normally he preferred to take his fights one-on-one for the greater enjoyment it would bring, but it would be prudent to recruit allies for this particular occasion. The more the merrier, as they say. To increase the chances of success, it would be best to force the blood goddess to split her attention between multiple targets. Divine or not, there was only one of her. The primal lord continued his attempts to convince others to join in his incoming fight, his efforts unsuccessful. The robed man who had drawn his lot sneered at him from his place at the table, but Mithras paid him no mind. He continued to persist, until he finally came upon a woman with fair skin and pale, white hair. There could not have been a greater contrast–Mithras, towering above her with his golden hair and rugged physique–and her, a lithe and slender frame with silvery hair like moonlight.

Approaching with a smile, he showed his hands were empty as he made the request so many others had turned down. "Greetings, lady. As a fellow competitor in this arena, would you care to join me in a bout against a beast of our hosts' choosing? Our lot will be with an unusual entity who calls herself the 'Goddess of Blood'. With such boldness to declare herself divine, I have no doubt she will prove a challenging and worthy opponent." 

She was not quite sure how, but her travels led her to a fair. The people of this land quite treasured their times of peace, celebrating with feasts and parties full of raucous laughter and pride. And while Alythea didn’t despise this celebration, it was a bit tad on the nose, she thought. She felt out of place as much as she looked. While most festival goers had dressed their best, Alythea wore simple clothes she had been given when she had decided clothes were too much of a hassle to wear. It was a plain cotton linen over shirt, maybe once worn by a man based on the size. It had small painted thin lines dancing in a small pattern. It was a small splash of color that usually didn’t accustom her wear, so she favored it.

It wasn’t until a blonde man headed her direction with open hands. He spoke to her, and she had certainly understood the words, but she stared at his open hands, wondering why they were offered to her. She stood puzzled, before a look of excitement covered her porcelain face. She brought her hands to his with a solid clap and said in a very bemused tone, “High five.” She had seen the custom of slapping hands throughout the festivities and was happy to partake in the ceremony of slapping hands, but was confused to the point of it. However, drawing that away, something he said had piqued her interests. “Goddess of blood, you say?” She asked in a singsong voice. Alythea had a similar deity where she had come from. Perhaps joining this man would provide helpful for her own means. She had heard a phrase for this sort of instance where helping each other was beneficial to both parties.

“You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” She said, in an approving manner, “Very well, you have my support. I suppose names are exchanged here, in the event we need to communicate with each other. You will call me Alythea.” She said proud, her name coming from the vast, powerful forest she hailed from. She had seen humans often touch the shoulder of the other when something of importance needed to be said. She did the same motion, however, perhaps putting too much force behind her touch, which was certainly a shove. “I warn you to give me distance, my magic is quite powerful.” She said, with a confirming nod. She ran a hand through her silver hair, throwing it out of her face. “You shall lead the way. Your… customs confuse me, I will follow suit.”

"Two against a goddess, now that's hardly fair." Ciara cooed in a sweet honeyed voice.

She glided into the area to join the fight. Her hair was an ocean blue and she wore a red flowing dress that allowed for movement. The blonde man was familiar to her, for they had met in the forest once upon a time. The woman with pale white hair was unfamiliar but would no doubt prove to be interesting. Ciara's ruby lips parted as she began to sing a fast and upbeat melody. Her words were in the language of the fae, so many would be unable to understand it. Her song spell was over in a few seconds, as there were only four verses. Mithras, Alythea and herself would all be light on their feet and have an increased agility now.

"There, I think three against a goddess is more fair." She said before looking over to Mithras, "It's good to see you again darling. And I can't wait to meet your beautiful new friend."

Ciara gave them both a wink before preparing for the battle ahead. Even during fights she couldn't help but flirt with people. Reaching up to her neck, she grasped the shell dangling from her necklace. A powerful object that would help in their fight. But first she needed to see how things would play out in the fight. Hopefully she would be able to use normal tactics of trickery and illusions. Earlier she had been watching but once she saw this fight began, she knew she would want to have her own fun. Ciara didn't look like much of fighter. Her body was slim and her features were delicate, like a white rose newly blooming. There wasn't a weapon on her and she lacked shoes, leaving her feet bare.

"A fight against a divine being…..the anticipation is killing me." The fae woman stated with a mischievous smile.

Her responses were unexpected, but Mithras assumed it was due to a difference in customs. He was no stranger to stares and puzzled looks. But more importantly, the lady accepted his request. Flashing his teeth, the lion-headed lord laughed. "Excellent! I am Mithras, lord of Mount Qala. Your talents will be of great service to us both, Alythea. As for I, my greatest strength lies in martial combat. My mastery of the primal power that lies deep within the earth and sea is but one of my many capabilities. Come, let us see what this goddess is capable of." A voice heavy with enchantment was not too far away, and the primal lord was met by a familiar face. It was a fae woman he had met in his time exploring the wild reaches of Canelux. She cast her spell upon them, and spoke of her interest in joining them. "A pleasure to see you once again, lady of the moonlit night. I am confident in my martial prowess, however there is a reason as to why I have chosen to seek you out."

"As fortune granted me her hand, the hooded one was forced to reveal a few morsels of information on the aforementioned 'goddess' we shall face. As her title states, blood is her domain. And blood is what she will take should we become wounded. This will pose quite an interesting challenge for us–we must wound her without allowing her to return the favor and keep her at a distance." This was the most he could ascertain from the hint he was given.

Walking ahead, he paced his steps to allow his new companions to follow. They entered the arena guided by the hooded men, and saw a closed gate on the opposite end of the Amphitheater. Up above the audience sat several hooded figures, like crows peering down from their lofty perches. From the Cult, a booming voice announced the beginning of the bout to the spectators. "Ladies and gentlemen–our brothers present to you the next round! On the left we have our two brave challengers who will face one of our most fearsome opponents yet. Behold! The Sanguine Mistress, Drinker of Life, the Countess of Crimson…the Goddess of Blood! May the odds ever be in your favor…" As the man's voice trailed off, there was the loud clang of the portcullis falling away, releasing the beast they were to fight.

When the gate opened, there was a flash of white as something was set loose. Shrieking like the howling winds, a female humanoid figure with its face obscured by a tall headdress that covered its entire head stormed into the arena. Two long white tassels extended down from the sides of the 'mask' down to her feet, but instead of her feet, the ends of her legs seemed to distort into a singular mass. Bright crimson markings highlighted the base of her chin and parts of her torso while a mantle that appeared to be part of her body tapered off her shoulders. Both hands bore long, thin swords. The weapons, her hands, and her 'legs' were both stained red, like fresh blood. Levitating above the ground, the unearthly entity screamed at them in a tongue not of this world, which when heard–formed words in the languages that they could understand.

কাফের! তুমি কোন দেবতাকে ডাকার সাহস করছ ?!

আপনার অবিচ্ছিন্নতার জন্য আমি আপনার জীবন রক্তের প্রতিটি শেষ ফোঁটা ড্রেন করব!

মরে!

The goddess of blood stormed out of her gate, hurling a massive ear piercing shriek. Alythea's delicate hands shot to her ears, an equally high pitched shriek coming from her as well. She drew into herself, her head writhing in pain from the Goddess’s banshee like shriek. It clawed at her insides, pain sprawling all throughout her body. When the abomination’s scream had subsided it launched itself around the area. It moved with unrealistic speed, Alythea managing to dodge a wide sweeping sword attack, not on skill, but luck alone. Recovering from the pounding headache, She raised her left hand, her eyesight and focus narrowing to her fingertips as she tried to line up a shot of a massive fire blast.

The goddess of blood was a blur, it maneuvered on a dime, and never lingered in one place for too long. Her companions seemed to be holding their own after the shrieking attack. However, they would not be okay if she caught one of them in her blasts of magic, and seeing how the Goddess of blood was insistent on drawing some sort of wound, it would be impossible to launch her magic. To make matters worse, her skill with a weapon was as good as a childs. She would be defenseless against the goddess.

It bore down on her team, strike after strike. Alythea stood uselessly, her hand outstretched, ready for an opening. “This is useless!” She shouted. She dropped her hand, running towards the wall of the arena, adding as much distance as she could between her and her friends. She stuffed her tongue to the edge of her cheek and bit down hard, wincing as she did. She immediately tasted the iron sting of blood. She quickly swabbed the inside her cheek with her feminine hands, light red blood on glossing in the light. She focused, her sights narrowing down as she outstretched her hand and the enemy launched towards her, shrieking, closing the distance fast. Finally, her party was out of the blast radius.

At first it was a small tingling. Almost as gentle needle pricks on the edges of her finger. Slowly, it enveloped her hand, and it grew quite warm. It eased its way down to her wrist, and energy was hot and angry. It grew to her elbow, her arm shaking from the pressure build up. She felt an enormous weight on her shoulders as she let loose her magic attack, the recoil forcing her arm upwards and her to stagger backwards. A thunderous boom was heard, before it was seen. All of sudden where the goddess was standing was enveloped and a massive explosion. Red and orange flames roared, as billowing grey and black smoke covered the area. A massive shriek of pain echoed inside her head as the goddess roared in anger.

Without time to think, she raised her arm again, and let loose two more of the powerful blasts in succession, only managing to stagger the angry goddess. Her head grew light, and her eyesight became blurry. She had overdone it, but the goddess stood in ravaging flames, glued to the ground in pain. Would her companions take advantage of the opening?

A howling shriek rang through the air as Ciara covered her ears with her hands, trying to block out the sound. However, years of listening to her mother's tantrums had prepared her for this day. Ciara recovered, using her mirage shell, created a mist surrounding herself and anybody who came in close to her. But it could not cover anything and followed wherever Ciara went. She couldn't hide her location but the thick fog filled with illusions would make it difficult. Not only were there images of strange things but those illusions made sounds while the fae woman's movements were almost silent. The blood goddess lunged towards the mist, trying to use her hearing to find Ciara. She heard a giggle and struck were she thought the sound came from, but it was nothing more than an illusion. However, Ciara would be unable to land a hit on the blood goddess, else reveal her location. What she needed was a good distraction….

The goddess left the mist, instead focusing most of its attacks on Mithras and Alythea. The problem with the fae woman is that she was unable to let herself get hit, else she would be instantly obliterated. As a plan was forming in her mind, a burst of wild red flames with a thunderous boom struck the goddess and swallowed her up. The scent of burning flesh lingered in the air. A banshee scream of pain circled around the arena. With a smile, Ciara dropped the mists protecting her to focus on what would come next. Her fingers became longer and morphed until it was like sharp needles made of some sort of solid white material. Ciara's eyes became hollow and a sticky black ooze began dripping out of them. She was as pale as the moon and her hair was as blue as the ocean. The fae was somewhere between beautiful and horrifying.

When the opening was clear, she rushed towards the goddess with an amazing speed and dug her needle-like fingers into it's back, piercing through the skin. The magic from the goddess was slowly draining away and Ciara could feel herself gaining its energy. The spell was temporary and would only hold up for so long but the magic gained tasted…incredibly. The attack wouldn't kill the goddess but it would drain some of the creature's magical abilities. Using blood magic would become significantly harder now. Ciara was thrown off of the blood goddess and hit the ground with a thud.

Her claws retracted and formed back into regular hands while her eyes returned. Pushing herself off the ground, ignoring the bruises she probably gained, she sprinted towards Alythea. Placing her cold hands on the woman's shoulder, she began humming a tune. If Alythea accepted it, she would feel the magical and physical energy that the goddess had. Believing the girl to be strong in magic, Ciara was giving her everything she'd drained from the blood goddess. Alythea would feel incredible, as the power was significant.

"You're not done yet, darling." She cooed.

The goddess took the initiative, aiming to make them her first conquests in these unstained sands. Even with greater numbers against her, the woman had speed and agility which would rival the lesser primal lords he had challenged eons ago. Mithras had no difficulty in keeping out of her reach, however the same couldn't be said for the others. Then, Alythea broke away and began to run for the outer wall of the battleground. It seemed as if she were trying to draw the goddess' attention to her, or perhaps she had a change of heart. It was common for fighters to balk and flee in the face of overwhelming power. The unspoken law of the world laid deep within the minds of all: the strong survive and the weak perish. Where the survival of the fittest determined who could continue to live, those who had no confidence in victory could buy themselves time by escaping while they could. What appeared to be an act of cowardice soon proved itself something else as the silver-haired woman turned to face the incoming goddess attracted by the blood–and unleashed a powerful blast at point-blank range.

A clever ploy, one that the fae woman gladly took advantage of. From the enchanted aura of fog, Ciara dealt a blow from behind, and quickly went to assist Alythea before the goddess could recover. The women had thrown the entity's patterns into disarray, and the time to strike was now. Summoning two large chakrams, the lion-headed lord hurled them with all his might at the goddess. Like two great wheels, they collided with her body. If their sharpness couldn't break her apart, the sheer force and weight of the weapons would stagger her briefly. And that brief moment was what he was aiming for. Drawing upon the primal power of the land, a large shadow fell over the arena as a deluge of water crashed down upon the goddess. Manipulating the earth to raise himself high above the rushing currents, the tidal wave vanished as suddenly as it had manifested. No matter how powerful blood made her, that effect would surely be weakened should it become diluted. Using the primal power of Mount Qala, Mithras hardened his very skin into stone as he charged forward. 

With the chakrams returning to his hands, he slammed them against the thin, long blades the goddess was defending herself with. The two were in deadlock, until she forced him away. It was unlikely that he could call forth another primal deluge to limit her movement, but as long as he could stay within melee range, he had one more tactic to bring her down. Playing into the crowd's expectations of him from his appearance, Mithras rushed forward with chakrams brandished. Bloodlust shone in his eyes, as wild laughter came from him. To Irkalla with restraint! What good was a fight if you were running away from your opponent? They would never bring this false goddess down acting like frightened prey. They had to fight! Swinging his chakrams again, the goddess anticipated his movements and prepared to parry. His form was wide open, and his stone skin became flesh again. In the short time he had observed her, he had gained an understanding of how she thought.

She could not resist such a tantalizing opportunity before her. A man with no armor or visible protection was now within slashing distance. By all means, such an act was foolishness–suicide. But that was exactly what Mithras intended. With Ciara and Alythea far enough away, the primal lord let loose a thunderwave, catching the goddess in the crossfire. With the residual water from the tidal wave he had hit her with earlier, the lightning was able to land a direct hit. A scream of indignation at being fooled pierced the air as Mithras withdrew, and the goddess' spotless garb was now battered and sullied. The impunity of these mere mortals was an affront to her pride, and her rage had reached its limit. The entire female entity's body became blood-red, and she was now aiming to hunt them all down–starting with him.

These people were insane, Alythea thought. She watched attentively as waves filled the large metal chakrams sliced through the arena. A massive, crashing wave crashed down upon their enemy, filled with anger. A thunderous clap landed a direct hit, her banshee scream blanketing the air. The blonde one dropped his armor, luring the goddess in close. These people were insane. Her fae companion too, was out of her mind, going for a close hit. However, Alythea couldn’t complain, as she felt her headache soothing with Ciara’s tune. Her pains began to ease, her magic well feeling like it was overflowing. She felt incredible in only a few short seconds. Aly’s eyes locked onto the goddess. Her left hand shot upwards towards the sky, fingers outstretched. Mithras must’ve seen Alythea’s readying blow because he dropped combat and retreated so Alythea could let loose her newly combined magic.

The reaction started from her tips of her fingers. It was cold. The cold slowly filled the air, her raised hand as the epicenter. It crawled forwards and upwards, the surrounding area now much chiller than before. Once it had enveloped the arena, another wave of cold shot from her fingers. And another. And another. And another. Using her new power, she felt limitless. She repeatedly cast a freezing spell on the arena, her cold spreading to every corner. The bite of the cold only enthralled her, keeping her focused on making it colder and colder. The area began to freeze as snow crystals began flitting around her finger tips. The density became thicker, casting the arena into the middle of a blizzard. Her breath was now visible, snow mixing into her hair. Roaring wind was heard, catching the snow, causing them to dance wildly. Above the goddess of blood, Ice began to form. It jagged in and out as it grew. Soon a large formation of ice the size of a human house crashed onto the goddess, a loud crack as it exploded.

“We’re not done yet!” She shouted. As the blizzard dissipated revealing the clear air, Alythea held her freezing spell on the goddess. It was frozen still. Alythea could feel her fighting the magic, on the verge of breaking free. She focused her new found power on holding the freezing spell. “Mithras! Circa! We do not fall here! I will keep her still!” She shouted with encouragement.

Ciara smiled as Alythea recovered with a new burst of magic before looking back at the goddess. The creature had taken quite a beating from Mithras but wasn't done yet. The goddess was targeting Mithras first. Suddenly the air grew cold and the ground began to turn white with frozen temperatures. The still air swirled with a new wind while the taste of ice magic hung in the air. With both of her allies' magic, the entire battlefield was torn asunder. Her own nature based talents were rendered useless. Any kind of plant or creature she summoned would be instantly slaughtered in the barrage of powers. She had to be clever about this. A massive ice formation smashed into the goddess and then she was being held in place with walls of ice. There was no time for hesitation.

"Give me gifts and treasures
Don't let my hands become empty"

With only two verses, she was able to summon a bottle filled with a glowing blue liquid. Yanking off the cork, she chugged the entire potion, feeling her magic reserves returning. Running over towards Mithras, she touched his shoulder and gave him a smile. Her touch would burn with magic but if he could stand it, he would feel his own strength returning. She whispered a series of ancient words as she powered both his physical and magical reserves. It would feel as though a new fire had been lit in his heart. For her, she could feel her own strength decreasing. But it didn't matter. As long as she had the best two fighters up and going, her own self wasn't as important.

"The second she breaks free, go all out." She instructed him then looked towards Alythea with a louder voice, "Hit her with everything you have!"

The raged goddess burst free from the freezing imprisonment and released a howling cry of anger. Ciara quickly shot some magic at Alythea to help her recover from the last spell. If she could keep them going, then she might just survive this. She would back the other two and give them strength to carry out the fighting, even if it drained her. They were better suited for arena battles while the fae woman was best suited for real life fights.

The goddess gazed at Mithras first but then turned her attention to Ciara.

"Oh shit." Ciara realized that the goddess might have figured out her little trick.

With the opening he made, Alythea seized the chance to render the goddess immobile. A temporary prison of ice held her, but it wouldn't last long. The fairy woman empowered him, and it was as if a white-hot brand was placed against his skin. Clenching his teeth, he remained steadfast until her magic had finished its work. As soon as Alythea's prison fell, they would assault the entity with all their might. When the ice shattered, Mithras charged into the thick of it, intending to allow himself to act as the lure. But it seemed that the false goddess had realized their intentions, as instead of going after the prey in front of her, she turned her attention towards Ciara. "Where do you think you are going? You should know better than to ignore an opponent that stands before you!" Bellowed the primal lord. Throwing himself onto her, the two struggled as the lion-headed lord caught the enraged goddess in a grapple hold.

They had to finish this quickly before any of them fell. The longer the battle dragged on the more they would succumb to fatigue. Alythea's strength was limited and Ciara's assistance wouldn't last forever. As stone began to form over his arms, he wrapped them around the goddess' and pulled them back to limit her movements. Her blades were still long enough to pierce him if he wasn't careful, and this sort of opportunity wouldn't happen twice. With the goddess' weapons pulled away, her body was exposed and unprotected for the time being. Mithras was behind her, holding her for as long as his strength allowed him. "ALYTHEA, NOW!" He shouted. Even if he was caught in the crossfire, as long as the goddess took the brunt of it–victory was within their grasp. "GIVE HER ALL YOU CAN MUSTER!" His voice commanded over the frenzied shrieking cries of a madwoman, now backed into a corner. The entirety of her being was frothing with rage, and his blood felt like molten fire coursing through his veins just by being in such close proximity.