Headed by a Snake

"I hear her name and SING of her GLORY!! Death to the enemies of Invictus!! Death to the LIVING AND THE DEAD!!!"

Tarquin Wroe floated in the air. The ceiling of the training hall had turned into an infinite abyss of darkness. Faint mockeries of lights shone down upon them, ever-burning corpses that were once stars. Hundreds of pale, feminine arms descended from the skies like thick, translucent-white vines.

Songs of praise in a dozen languages rang in Lone's ears. He tried to scream, but only words of praise left his throat, words in a language he did not know. Tears streamed down his eyes at Her beauty... at the goddess who looked down upon the mortal realm from the dead-starred sky.

"RIP! TEAR! REND! ON THIS NIGHT, NOW AND FOREVER, I SHALL FEAST UPON THE SOULS OF THE DAMNED!!" Wroe cackled.

Shutting his eyes, he clenched his fist, "I hear her name... and thus... I sing."

A hundred grasping arms tore the spirit apart as he screamed in an agony almost palpable.

And then... all was silent.

...It was several moments before Wroe walked back to his peers and sat amongst them, smiling as if all was normal.

Shao Ran rubbed his face, "Sea god's pants, what in the seven hells was that? And why does the inside of my mouth taste like fried pickles?"

Lone wiped the tears from his eyes. He looked at his hands-- they were stained as if by black ink, "It uh... it happens."

Eleven of Seven turned his shark-helm to face the Warlock, "I have no mouth, but I must vomit."

Pale was curled up on the floor, quietly sobbing, "I... I had a cat... he got run over by a carriage when I was 8..."

Ran grimaced, "Yeah, okay. That was weird. What... what was all that stuff about death to the living and the dead?"

"What?" Wroe looked confused at the questions.

"N-nevermind," Ran sat down and averted his gaze.

Eleven stared at Ran in hesitation... "I no longer wish to fight the ghost."

Ran nodded, "Y-yeah. We'll compare, next time."

...

Lone finished a set of push-ups, "So, I've been thinking..."

Pale started his set, "Uh huh?"

"You have elf-blood, Pale... Wolfbanger has were-blood... Wroe has angel-blood, Maximus lizard-blood, and Dragan titan-blood..."

Pale sat up and stretched his arms, "Um. Okay?"

Lone looked to Pale with widened eyes, "Does that mean... I'm--"

"Nope," Shao Ran interrupted, "You're human."

"Confirmed. Lone Shadowdark, you are 100% human," Eleven of Seven added.

Pale smiled with his teeth-- looking not at all confident, "M-maybe?"

"YARR HRRRRGGGGRRR HAHA HAAAA!!" A loud cackle emanated from the center of the ring.

It had been nearly half-a-bell since Wroe had defeated the ghost. The one-eyed ghost appeared more transparent than before... and he trembled lightly as if he could barely keep his form together.

The ghost pointed a cracked and weathered cutlass at Lone, "You there!! Face me in BATTLE!! I'll tear you apart! I'll eat your children!"

Lone looked around, but his peers refused to look him in the eye.

He pointed to himself, "Me?"

"Yes, you, COWARD!! FACE ME!!"

Pale grimaced, "You don't have to go, Lone."

Ran stood up, "Yeah. I want some chow. You fella's wanna get some chow? Let's get some chow."

Eleven nodded, "I shall accompany you."

Lone picked up his wolf-hammers, "Why are you guys all acting like this? I can beat him."

He looked back to the one-eyed ghost. The man was beaten, stabbed, and torn apart. His form was shaky and see-through like he'd fade away at any moment. His sword was cracked and his arm shook from its weight. The ghost put up his offhand and raised his middle finger in an obscene gesture.

Lone narrowed his eyes and stepped into the arena circle, "My name is the Lone Shadowdark. I will face thee in a bout of honorable combat, sir!"

The one-eyed man grinned, showing a mouth full of jagged, filed-down teeth, "They call me... RAINBOW WARRIOR!!"

The ghost sliced his cutlass against the arena floor towards Lone, kicking up sand and blinding him. Lone was able to cross-block a cutlass swing but received two jabs to the chin. The pirate swung against at Lone's head, with Lone blocking the heavy attack with his hammer.

The force of the strike sent Lone tumbling to the side, sliding across the sand. Thanks to his training, he kept hold of his weapon.

Lone ended up sliding adjacent to Pale. The boy poked at him with the stick-end of his spear... "H-hey... you okay?"

Lone rubbed the sand and fresh tears out of his eyes, "Psh. Yeah. I'm fine. This is my new movement technique!"

In the background, Ran fell to the floor, laughing and clutching his gut.

A thin crease appeared between Pale's eyebrows, "I... don't think that means what you think it means, Lone."

"No, it's real! That belt I got gave me a new movement technique! Just watch."

Lone kipped up to his feet, adopting a combat stance. He slowly edged toward the pirate.

As soon as he entered the ring, the pirate charged forward. Lone carefully watched the trajectory of the cutlass... deflecting the first cutlass swipe. Finding his chance, he swung his wolf-hammer in a perfect counter. BAM!

The pirate's face was smashed to the side. Lone felt the pride of victory surge in his heart. Then he felt the pirate's punch right below his sternum... the ghost had countered simultaneously.

Lone collapsed to his knees, dropping his hammers and trying to catch his breath. The one-eyed man smashed a red potion into his mouth-- the color of the lowest level.

The pirate smashed the side of his cutlass against Lone's temple, and the side of Lone's head hit the sand with jarring force. The ghost rubbed his boot on the side of Lone's face, "Gahaha! That's what you get, boy!"

Ran looked to Pale, "Hey, Spear-Bro... is your friend gonna be okay?"

Pale nodded with a smile, "I believe in him."

Having caught his breath, Lone growled, struggling with his arms... but it was no use. The ghost's boot had pinned down his head strongly and he couldn't escape. Reaching out with his main hand, he grabbed one of his wolf-hammers and strongly gripped the pinning boot with his offhand.

Lone cursed inwardly. Would he be forced to reveal his trump card just as soon as he'd developed it? Seven hells! It didn't matter! Pride was nothing in the face of overwhelming victory!! He would unseal it!! And when he claimed victory, none would dare question his means.

Lone sucked in a deep breath, "Shadowdark Sect: FACE TO FOOT TECHNIQUE!!!"