Is anyone there? Lol! Sheesh, I haven't updated in years :/ pretty sad, but I've been so busy. Here's an update for anyone who is still interested in my work lol :D

Round 2: Attack!

Raziel sat in between Turel in Zephon like a tender piece of meat between two buns, uncomfortable, and frustrated. After the encounter with Dumah and the others, Raziel was cared for like an infant and was forbidden to walk anywhere alone while the tournament took place.

"That's it!" Raziel growled and stood, looking at Turel and Zephon. "I appreciate the gesture, but no thank you."

Turel grabbed Raziel's arm. "You do know that your ugly friend over there is watching you as if you're a lamb covered in blood, right?"

Zephon smiled. "My, my, Turel, you say it as though the boy is a virgin, and that Dumah character is waiting to court him."

Raziel looked over at Dumah, who took a bite out of a turkey drumstick; his eyes never left Raziel's. Raziel sighed. "I'm not afraid of him—

"So you think," Zephon interjected, "but I guarantee that he'll follow as soon as you leave the hall."

Raziel pulled his arm out of Turel's grasp and walked towards the exit, being the center of attention for Dumah and his friends.

"You're mine, boy," Dumah said, enough to hear above the chatter in the hall. Raziel stopped and looked over at the Coorhagen teen, noticing a painted smirk on his face. "You think your little friends over there," he gestured towards Turel and Zephon, "can protect you, but they cannot. Once you're alone, I'll give you the punishment you deserve."

"Wait until he uses the restroom, Dumah," said Zack sneered . Half of the teens face was covered in bandages, blocking out the eye Raziel remembered hitting. "Unless they hold his dick for him, too." Everyone at the table exploded with laughter, all except Dumah; he just sat there with folded arms, keeping his blue eyes on the boy before him. His smirk was replaced with a subtle grin. It almost seemed…friendly.

"That's our cue," said Zephon before downing the contents in his cup. When the two appeared behind Raziel, Zack and the Coorhagen teens became quiet. Dumah remained still.

"Pay them no heed, Raziel," Turel advised. "They just can't admit a younger boy is better than them. They're just scared of losing to you, that's all." Snickers and chuckles were the replies. Zephon nudged Raziel and the three left the hall.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"The lot of them have serious mental problems," Turel said while leaning on his blade. The three were getting in their final dose of sword fighting before tomorrow's round. Zephon landed on his back in the sand; his sword stabbed the earth next to him. Raziel held his blade to the red-head's neck, keeping it just above his Adam's apple, and smiled.

"You truly are a master, aren't you?" Zephon said with a hint of jealously. Raziel kept his smile and sheathed his blade. Zephon rose, brushing the sand out of his hair. "In response to your question, yes, Turel, they do." He patted down his tunic. "A bunch of muscular idiots…"

"Still," Turel replied, wiping his brow of sweat, "we should be prepared for anything. The three of us can only do so much. I'm surprised they didn't ambush us."

Raziel remained quiet and decided to lie down with his eyes to the sky. A giant cloud blocked the sun, but little patches of light escaped and penetrated the earth like search lights.

Zephon accumulated a wad of spit in his mouth and shot it out. "I don't know about you two, but I need a bath. I've got sand in my hair and I think there's some in my shorts."

"Aye, a bath sounds real tempting about now—no, wait—what about the creek just beyond the archery grounds? It's not much, but it's far too hot to bathe."

"You have a point," Zephon agreed. "What say you, Raziel?" Raziel sat up and stretched his arms over his head, letting out a long sigh. He stood and cracked his back and neck.

"It is rather hot, isn't it?" He looked up at the sky in disappointment as the clouds revealed the sun. "Why not? This heat isn't going to die down anytime soon."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The trio made their way toward the creek with caution, not wanting to attract the attention of any peers or Sarafan soldiers. The water flowed down rocks blissfully; insects were flying about and landing on protruding plants and reeds; and best of all, the sun was hidden behind trees that lined the back of the stronghold. Raziel, noticing a rabbit taking a drink from the creek, bent down to stoke its fur. The rabbit looked up and froze. Just as the boy's hand was going to make contact, Zephon shoved Raziel forward, falling face first into the creek. Turel laughed, holding his sides.

"You set that one up, Raziel," he said approaching his friend. "Zephon executed perfectly."

Raziel wiped the water off his face, noticing a streak of red on his fingertips. He touched his nose. Blood. "Bastard!" Raziel yelled and charged Zephon, who narrowly escaped the younger boy's grasp. Turel laughed louder and sat down in the creek, creating a human dam that allowed the water to build up. The teen pushed himself backwards into the cold water.

"Ah," Turel sighed, enjoying the cold touch to his hot skin. Raziel and Zephon's chase continued until Zephon tripped over Turel and bit into a pile of dirt; Raziel then jumped up and tackled the two, trying to aim his fist to Zephon's face.

"It was a joke, Raziel!" Zephon yelled, trying to suppress his laugh. "C'mon, easy now!" Turel growled and pulled the two apart.

"Idiots, relax! We're supposed to be having fun, not acting like those Coorhagen imbeciles!"

"Imbeciles, huh?" Called a voice from behind the three. It was Dumah with four other Coorhagen teens, including Zack. Dumah stood there with his usual smirk and folded arms, toadies at his sides. "Looks like you're having fun. Tsk, tsk, Raziel. I didn't know you liked men," Dumah finished with a smile. The Coorhagen teens laughed and surrounded the three still in the water. Raziel tightened his fists in anger. Dumah reminded him of his brother Von, always picking on him with his arrogant tone and superiority. How he hated that.

Turel stood; his gaze hardened as Dumah approached. "You'll get your chance, you prick. Just wait…"

"Why wait," Dumah replied, "when I can get you now?" At this, the Coorhagen teens tackled Zephon and Turel to the ground. Splashes erupted everywhere like explosions in the water. The two kicked and punched their way to freedom, but the four bigger and stronger teens overpowered them. Raziel picked up a palm-sized rock and raised it over his head to strike a teen that held Turel by the neck; Dumah stepped forward and plucked it from his grasp with ease. Raziel turned around, trying not to let his fear control him. Dumah snorted and tossed the rock behind him.

"Shall we?" Dumah offered with his arms open. Raziel grimaced and charged Dumah, who stepped aside and elbowed Raziel before he fell. The boy rose to his feet and put his fists up. This time, he threw a few punches and managed to land a jab to Dumah's jaw. The teen rubbed it with a grin.

"My turn." Dumah's first punch landed in Raziel's stomach, with another to his cheek. Before Raziel fell again, Dumah ran to his side and punched his eye. The boy landed in the dirt, bleeding and gasping for air; a tear escaped his damaged eye. A kick flew and crashed into Raziel's rib. The boy let out a muffled cry, and remained still. Dumah narrowed his eyes and stepped back, whistling for his friends.

"We've done enough. Let's go!" Like a pack of wolves who've had their fill, Dumah and the other teens ran off. Turel, already on his back in the water, rolled over to face Zephon. He was unconscious. His red hair covered his forming black eyes, blood dripped down his cheeks and into the water; his torso and stomach were equally damaged with bruises and cuts that were glazed over by the water. Turel felt his face and flinched upon feeling bruises around his cheekbones, but there was no blood. With all his strength he pushed himself up.

"Ow!" Turel felt a pain behind his tricep. A bite mark gushing blood. "Assholes…" He groaned and slowly picked up Zephon, putting him on dry land. He scooped up some water and wet the red-head's face. Turel gave him a few slaps.

"Zephon. Zephon!" The younger teen coughed and opened his eyes weakly.

"Did we win?" Zephon whispered.

Turel gave a sigh of relief. "No, but at least you're not dead." He smiled and Zephon chuckled.

"And Raziel?" Asked Zephon. Turel looked around him and saw no one. Zephon sat up and looked behind him and saw Raziel's body—still. "Raziel?" Zephon called hoarsely. Still no movement.

"Shit," breathed Turel. "Let's see if he's alright…" Turel was already at Raziel's side before Zephon stood on his two feet. "Raziel? Are you-?"

Raziel was sobbing. Despite the bruises, blood, and dirt covering his face, he was sobbing. "He beat me…" Raziel said in a whisper.

Zephon planted himself next to Raziel. "He beat us all, Raziel. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"No…I just can't believe how weak I was. I let him intimidate me." Raziel rolled over to face his friends. "I beat Zack…I don't get it…" He wiped his tears away. "I'm sorry…"

"Let's forget about it, alright?" Turel replied softly as to not cause more of Raziel's tear to fall. The teen placed his hand over the boy's eye. "This one is bad...look," he mumbled to Zephon. The red-head combed his hair back to get a better look.

"So it is…" Zephon bit his lip and looked away. Raziel's eye lid was split open and bleeding; the bruising added a look of a smashed plum. "You're tough, Raziel. C'mon, now…upsie daisy." Zephon and Turel lifted Raziel on either side of his shoulders and walked him to the infirmary.

O0o0o0o0o

"These three won't confess, sir," claimed a Sarafan guard. Raziel, Turel and Zephon were sitting in the infirmary hallway, silent and exhausted, as they were being questioned. Raziel wore a bandage for his eye to heal, and a patch on top to protect it; the clear ointment he had received after his first match was smeared all over his cheeks; Turel's face was covered with an iced pack with a wrap around his tricep; Zephon's nose was plugged with gauze and also interchanged his iced pack for his eyes. "We still don't have a clue of where the kid or kids were from, let alone any names."

Kraus, the Sarafan knight who recruited Raziel, rubbed his chin with narrowed eyes. "Is it pride or fear?" He asked the trio. They looked up at him in question. "I assume you don't want to talk because it's not right to give out information, or you're afraid that if you do tell your attackers will return. Am I right?"

"No," Zephon said flat-out and folded his arms. "It's our business, sir. We can handle it."

Kraus was taken aback. Zephon held his own, whether he was going to be disqualified and sent home, or beaten and put away, he was ready. "Can you?" Kraus asked, amused.

"Yes," Raziel responded.

"Yes," Turel repeated.

The Sarafan knight gave a smile. He shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

0o0o0o0o

The trio sat together on the bleachers, blocking out the proctor's instructions as he read them from a scroll. Out of his good eye, Raziel could see Dumah and other Coorhagen natives mocking him and making cry-baby faces. Raziel gritted his teeth and turned away. Turel saw this and looked over at Dumah, now making cut-throat gestures; the others beside him made choking noises.

Turel leaned into Raziel's ear. "Fuck them." Raziel smiled with a nod.

"Now that I've gone over the ground rules," the proctor continued, "let's begin the first match." Raziel followed his eyes as he scanned through the names. "Dumah of Coorhagen versus…"

Dumah walked down to the lower levels and stood beside the proctor. "…Raziel of Ziegsturhl!" Raziel cursed. Not in a million years, he thought. What are the odds?

Raziel stood and walked towards the other side of the proctor. "Do you both agree to engage?"

Raziel narrowed his eyes. "Aye."

"Aye," replied Dumah.

"Good, lads. Follow me." Dumah shoved Raziel back and followed the proctor first. The younger boy growled. He looked back at Turel and Zephon, who smiled.

"You can do it," Turel mouthed. Raziel took a deep breath and nodded, before proceeding down to the stadium floor. The crowd cheered and waved hysterically as the two competitors entered; Raziel swore he could hear people chanting his name through the thick shouts. Dumah looked down at Raziel and smirked.

"Scared, boy?" he sneered.

Raziel kept his eyes on the crowd and gave a half smile. "Not anymore," he said haughtily, which made Dumah turn away in anger. The proctor instructed the two to stand on either side of the floor; guards entered with a small number of blades to choose from. Dumah picked up a long sword that—if placed tip first standing up—it would be as tall as Dumah himself. Raziel stuck with the traditional Sarafan blade; it was light enough to wield, but strong enough to cut through armor. Raziel sent the guards away and looked up to where his idol was sitting. Malek was speaking with a priest that stood behind him. Raziel wished he'd look down to see him, to indirectly give him strength. The boy waited, but the paladin did not turn. Raziel sighed and looked over at Dumah. The teen was swinging his sword wildly. Raziel imagined his figure in the center of those swings, watching his imaginary 'self' get cut up into pieces, like meat at the butcher's.

"Are you lads ready?" The proctor asked, snapping Raziel's mind out of its creativity.

"I am!" Dumah said with excitement. The proctor looked at Raziel. The boy nodded.

"Very well, let the match begin!" The proctor put a fist into the air and the crowd went wild; everyone except Raziel and Dumah left the floor.

"Judgment day has come, Raziel," Dumah said holding his sword in front of him. Raziel's brows furrowed and he readied his sword, forcing himself not to look at Turel, Zephon, or Malek. "Here I come!" the teen yelled and the crowd shouted at the top of their lungs. Raziel braced himself for Dumah's brute force; that force never came. The teen stopped in his tracks, nearly falling backwards; he wore a mask of fear. Raziel followed his gaze. Everyone else must have seen what he saw, because they screamed and—despite the loud noises—Raziel could hear Malek say "Rally up the soldiers. Move it!"

Raziel's eyes were glued. Four large demons terrorized their way through the crowds, blowing fire at the innocents that ran for their lives. Turel grabbed Raziel's arm and breaking his fixation on the monsters that appeared from the sky…or so it seemed.

"We have to get out of here!" Turel yelled. Zephon appeared, out of breath.

"Our orders are to follow the guards underground until the creatures have been dealt with. Come!" Just as the three were about to run, a loud roar escaped the largest fire demon. Its chest expanded wide and shot a massive fireball out of its mouth. As if in slow motion, Raziel followed its target before it hit; it was aimed at Dumah. Without thinking Raziel ran to Dumah's paralyzed self, and just before the ball hit, Raziel pulled the teen by his arm as far as he could get before the ball exploded. When it did, everyone around, including Raziel, flew back from the force.

"Raziel!" Zephon screamed at the top of his lungs, even though his voice was overshadowed by the thousands in the stadium. Dumah sat up and looked around in confusion, as if someone had hit him over the head.

"Ugh…" he groaned and put a hand over his ear; he held his breath and nose and pushed pressure into his ears. Once they popped, the screaming and commands from the officers flooded his hearing. Dumah looked over, still in a dizzy state, and saw Raziel facing him on his side. There was blood sliding out of his mouth; Raziel used his hand to conceal the dark red blotch of blood on his abdomen. He smiled, allowing more blood to escape.

"Go," he whispered. "Go, Dumah…with Turel and Zephon. They know where the underground place is...go to safety…"

"Raziel…" Dumah replied softly. His expression was soft, and his eyes began to fill with tears. Despite himself, Raziel's smile widened.

"A Sarafan does not cry for another. Be strong…" the boy coughed up blood and used his strength to sit up before spitting it out. Another roar erupted in the center of the stadium, and the same demon came closer to Raziel and Dumah. Just as it was about to shower its surroundings with fire, a mage appeared with four Sarafan knights and attacked the beast.

"What happened to him?" Turel demanded upon seeing Raziel's damaged form. Zephon rushed beside the bleeding boy and examined the wound beneath his shirt.

"He—uh—the explosion-" Dumah stammered, for once nervous in Turel's presence.

"He's right," Raziel began, "it was the demon. When the fireball hit the ground the force sent us flying. It must've been the fragments and the fall…" he gestured to the jagged rocks he was sitting on. Zephon helped him up.

"Can't you stay bloody well?" Zephon asked. "I swear, out of all of us I'm surprised you're not dead."

"We'll talk about this later, lads. Right now, we've got to leave."Turel advised. Dumah held his hands out for Raziel, but Zephon held the boy at his side.

"So you can hurt him again? I don't think so."

"He saved my life, Zephon. Protecting his is the least I can do," Dumah reasoned, being very persistent on carrying Raziel. Zephon sighed and handed the boy over to Dumah, who carried him bridal style. Turel led the way, avoiding flying rock fragments, fire from all directions, and spells being casted by the Sarafan mages.

"Stop!" Raziel yelled. The trio stopped, looking around them as if there was danger directly in their paths. But there was not.

"What? What is it?" Zephon asked, with wandering eyes as if paranoid.

Raziel pointed across from them, under the bleachers appeared to be a spot of yellow and blue. "Our comrades...they're under there, stuck."

"Raziel, we don't have time—

"What if that were Zephon and I, Turel?" Raziel asked with narrow eyes. "Would you have the heart to leave us there to die, even after all we've been through?" Dumah looked at Turel in surprise; he didn't know a boy his age could possess such compassion for others, especially those he'd never met. Maybe I'm the one who needs a lesson in that, Dumah thought.

Turel looked at the two boys under the bleachers, who were alone and scared, and probably thinking of their last moments before death. He turned to Raziel and nodded. "Let's go!" The three made a run for the bleachers and knelt where the teens were stuck.

"Don't worry, we'll get you out!" Zephon reassured them. "Be calm, lads."

"Hurry, please," cried the teen in blue. "My friend's leg was burned by the demon's fire; he needs medical attention." He gestured to the teen in yellow beside him; from his thigh up was blistered.

"Shit…"Turel cursed. "Um, ok, Dumah, give Raziel to Zephon and you help me carry these two out." Without a complaint, the giant teen handed Raziel to Zephon and aided Turel in pulling the trapped teens out. The one in blue came out easy; the one in yellow dragged himself over to Turel and extended his arm.

"I don't have the strength," the yellow teen cried.

"I'll get him!" Dumah said, nearly shoving Turel out of the way, and went under the bleachers. "C'mon, you can do it…reach!" The teen in yellow extended his hand once more and finally got a hold of Dumah's. "That's it!" Dumah pulled the teen out and carried him like he did Raziel.

"Bless you, friends, bless you!" cried the teen in yellow as he was carried away to safety.

"It's what Sarafan brothers do," Dumah replied to him and glanced at Raziel. The boy gave a nod with a smile.

O0o0o0o0o

Once underground, Zephon located the nearest doctor on standby. Luckily for them, there weren't many injured teens and most of the doctors remained should one require their attention. The teen in yellow was placed on a table—much like an operating table—with his leg propped up. The doctor examined the burns and immediately put a white cream to soothe them. Raziel was taken aside as well to be checked for internal bleeding, into another room with several nurses and a doctor.

"Brave kid," Turel commented as a nurse closed the door from inside Raziel's room.

"That is Raziel, is it?" asked the teen in blue.

"Aye, that's Raziel alright. And who might you be?"

"My name is Rahab," the teen replied. "Pleasure," he said shaking his saviors' hands. "And that is Melchiah over there with the burns."

"I see. I'm Turel, that's Dumah." Dumah dipped his head in acknowledgment. "And this is Zephon."

"I don't think I've seen that color hair before," Rahab said coyly. Zephon smiled.

"Well, I won't be the last. Stahlberg is full of them," the red-head joked. Rahab and Turel chuckled. Dumah remained quiet and kept his eyes on Raziel's door.

"Where are you and your friend from? I am from Uschtenheim, Dumah is from Coorhagen, you already know Zephon's origin, and Raziel is from Ziegsturhl."

"Oh, I'm from Vasserbunde, and Melchiah is from Willendorf. We've traveled a ways from home for this," Rahab said with a smile. "I wonder what will happen now…"

"I suppose they'll just postpone the trials," Zephon added.

"Nay," Turel replied. "It's going to take a few months to repair the damage those fiends have caused. I swear," he said, shaking his head, "they screwed us over." Rahab and Zephon nodded.

"All done lads," Melchiah said cheerfully as he entered the group with a bandaged leg. "My thanks to you." Melchiah nudged Dumah, whose irritated look vanished into a soft expression, as he was with Raziel.

"It was nothing," he said simply and turned towards Raziel's door to see the doctor heading their way.

"You're friend back there is badly injured," the doctor began. "It seems that when he fell on the rocks, they tore his skin clean open. There was some bleeding, but nothing too severe. He's stable, but he'll take some time to recover."

"From a fall?" Dumah questioned. "We both fell in the same area. I don't see how he could be so damaged."

"Well, how did he fall exactly?" asked the doctor. "Were you two running, or did he just trip?"

"Let's just say he saved my life from a hurling ball of fire. We flew when it hit the ground. The next thing I know he's bleeding on the floor." Dumah bit his lip and looked down, as if ready to cry. "He's a hero, you know?"

"So are you," Turel said, putting a hand on Dumah's shoulder. "You brought Melchiah to safety. That's why he's here." Dumah looked to Melchiah and smiled. He brought a hand to rub Melchiah's shaved head.

"We saved each other," Dumah said, loud enough for the doctor to hear.

"Well if I were the great Malek himself, I'd promote you all and give you medals for helping your comrades. But, I'm not…and I'm not sure he'd take my word for it—

"We don't need recognition to know what we did," Turel interjected. The doctor nodded and gave a shrug.

"Some men are different, I suppose. Any who, you may see your friend if you so wish it. But don't stay too long. He needs his rest."

And it ends! Whew, that chapter took me a few days lol but it is done! I know I don't really write like I used to, because I've been working on scripts instead of fiction writing lol :D I hope you guys like it! Let me know! You don't have to review, but one is always appreciated. I hope to update another story very soon :D Much thanks to my readers :D- Lil V.

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