Tymon abruptly stopped as the Ryfa Pakt extended a commanding hand.
"Wait! That's enough," she repeated as the scenery around them began to change. Right before Tymon's eyes, the world went back to them standing outside, his back against one of the metal walls of 'S-Z'. All his wounds that he had received after blocking the Ryfa Pakt's initial punch, which had broken several of his ribs, were gone.
That must've been the point when the illusions began.
Now they stood before each other as Tymon held his aching ribs, still breathing heavily.
Around them, non-cindarians, passing civilian workers, it seemed, who hadn't been there before, had gathered to see the commotion of what had been thrown outside the local tower. If Tymon hadn't been stopped, he would have killed many of them.
Tymon clenched his jaw and then stood straight as he gave in. It was clear he wasn't going to beat the Ryfa Pakt, and he wasn't there to cause any accidental deaths.
"Alright. What now?" Tymon grunted reluctantly for the Ryfa Pakt to hear.
The Ryfa Pakt grinned then swiftly sped them both to a secluded area – her office by the looks of it. Several maps hung on the walls – one of the entire globe, another of the southeast segment of the planet that was the Klevonian Army's territory, another of Forgeton as a whole, and seven others that showed each of its sectors.
Each map had markings, evacuations, and contingency plans marked on it. This was undoubtedly the office of a militant leader.
"I'm Fulvia," she introduced herself as she walked to the other side of her large, metal desk and began to rifle through its drawers. "Sorry about earlier. I thought you were after me. I heard some new sage klevonians'd arrived with a stockpiler and a strange vessel of a young pneumarian, the previous Ryfi Theos, was it?"
"Tymon," he returned. He wanted to correct her about the vessel thing, but realized he had no better description of Alissia's condition himself.
"A 1.3 billion-year-old pneumarian is young?" he resisted the urge to wince in pain.
Fulvia looked confused at first, then realized.
"In UST, Viraa would be around 650 million years old. Considering the Primeval Pneumarians came into existence well over 4 billion years ago, any pneumarian under a billion is considered to be young."
"Here," she tossed Tymon a blue teardrop-shaped item the size of a quarter. "Pop it open and drink the liquid inside."
Tymon's gaze calmly shifted from the item in his hand and back to her.
"You're very mistrusting. I get it," she smiled. "It's not poison. It's a droplet. They're imported from a planet called Aqueum. You drink the liquid inside it to mend nonlethal wounds. Your surface cuts should heal within minutes. That deep wound on your arm that's clogged with your energy, and your broken ribs," she winked at him with that remark, "those'll be slower to heal. Within an hour, you should be fine, though."
"Thanks," Tymon said as he reluctantly broke the tip of the teardrop and drank the inside. He felt a chill spread through him as the medicine seemingly spread through every inch of his body. He watched as some of the minor scratches on his hands began to mend themselves.
"Be careful taking those in the future," Fulvia advised him, cautiously. "In small doses, they're medicinal, but they can quickly become addictive. Take more than two or three in a day and you'll experience a new side effect. Either aphrodisiac or euphoric."
"You seem to have changed your initial opinion of me. What convinced you I'm not after you?" Tymon asked her, but still kept what she said in mind. He leaned against a wall as his body slowly healed.
"Your energy. The way you use it," she answered straight forward. "I don't know what that was I sensed, but that darkness isn't like any I've felt before. When I saw you with my – with the Shield cintracy – I lost it a little, but chose to test your capabilities with my illusions through my iridescence. After realizing you were holding back such a dangerous power, I noticed you weren't after mine. I don't know what your intentions are, but at the very least, it seems you aren't here to cause trouble."
So, iridescence does cause illusions, Tymon thought. I'll need to be careful around that element.
"Still, I must say, I was impressed by your ability to face me earlier," Fulvia commended. "Your power even forced me to call off the fight."
"Don't try to play on my ego," Tymon said bluntly. "You only stopped the fight to prevent casualties, and I'm not arrogant enough to believe I'd have won in an actual fight. We both know that you – or the illusion of you – was barely putting in any effort."
"You saw through that, huh?" Fulvia smiled, comfortable with her superiority.
"You're the Ryfa Pakt," Tymon remarked as if to say, "of course you're strong."
Still, he found something strange the more he thought about it. For a moment, when her anger flared earlier, he could tell there was a reserve of power within Fulvia that would put her on par with Raina. But that shouldn't have been the case...unless she possessed an ascension mark. Yet, wasn't the Klevonian Army firmly against submitting to marks?
Suddenly, Tymon felt the air shift on the hairs of his body as what can only be described as a red portal appeared in the office.
"I'm not satisfied," called a rough, deep voice as a massive, 9-foot-tall figure stepped into the room. He was a hulking figure, easily over 500 pounds. Like most klevonians, he had reddish-brown skin, except his skin leaned more towards red. And unlike the klevonians Tymon had encountered, despite the lack of a transformation, this guy had four thick arms of pure muscle. He wore a similar uniform to Fulvia, except instead of a suit jacket and vest, he wore a black skin-tight muscle shirt beneath a red and black Klevonian Army officer coat that hung over his shoulders. He wore dark shades that hid his eyes and a black close-fitting cloth – what humans would refer to as a durag – on his otherwise bald head. On the cloth were red flame designs and the symbol 'S-01'.
Tymon immediately noted the guy's dangerous ability to create portals.
The imposing guy crossed both sets of arms and stared Tymon down. Tymon wasn't fully healed yet, but he returned a flat expression as he locked in with the guy.
"She believes you aren't here for her life. I don't. You want to convince me; give us your blood oath that you weren't sent to take out our leader."
"My what?" Tymon asked them.
"Your blood oath. Everyone should know what a blood oath is," the guy responded matter-of-factly.
"I'm new. Enlighten me," Tymon returned.
After staring Tymon down, the guy began to explain.
"A blood oath is a verbal pact of souls between two or more individuals. By saying 'I give you my blood oath...' one must abide by whatever oath is given. Those who break their oath will die a painful death as an unknown power eats away at them. Many trades between worlds are set upon blood oaths."
"Why call it a blood oath if it has nothing to do with blood?" Tymon inquired.
"You really don't know anything, do you?" the big guy asked, irritated.
There was an uncomfortable silence as the two of them stared each other down.
"Sorry, Cinder's prickly when it comes to my protection and his duties," Fulvia offered as an apology. "I'm sure he didn't mean it to come out that way. It's just our first time coming across someone who doesn't know what a blood oath is. To answer your question: despite the difference in species, all living creatures possess one thing in common: a soul that grants them the spark of life. This soul – not astral-e, that's the potent power within a soul – is believed to be the mystical blood of the universe itself, hence the name," Fulvia finished.
"Fine. I give you my blood oath that I'm not here to assassinate you. Any of you. I wasn't sent here with any ill intent," Tymon vowed.
Tymon suddenly felt his spirit grow warmer, then fade back to normal.
"Okay, so you're telling the truth...," Cinder remarked gruffly, but he seemed to relax a little.
"Then, I suppose we can talk," Fulvia stated.
****
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