[Training] fire and ice

Deimos His presumptions had pooled into astute observations – she hadn’t yet mastered the ability to brim and extort the incantations from herself. They were from outside sources, which would only slow down the piercing, ravenous qualities of the flames. And if she ever got into the amount of messes, trials, and events that he, and so many others had, then she had better quickly adhere to such notions. By way of response, a rumble curled through his vocals, describing it only the best way he knew how. “It is within.” Lodged, coiled, contorted, ready, willing, and able to serve. “I think of them like strands.” Pull one, and his veins pulsed, pervaded, called into tangibility, and rising on the vast array of abilities. Pull another simultaneously, and they might combine into a differing, dynamic force. So they remained, simmering in his grasp, their own miniature inferno, as Aurelia took regard of her enchantments. He watched the matches give and grant, the concentration striving to uphold, the arc rise, swirl, and then, snapping away, peeled into nothingness. Nowhere to go. No motive. No plan. The minute depths of a smile mustered on his mouth, as the notions and semblances of destruction, and demolition. It was his favored outlet as well, but not always the one that mattered. “Sometimes it is purely for offense.” And here he unleashed a volley of flames, meant to be intimidating, vast, hungry for demise. “Or defense.” And then they rounded and arched, returning to the forefront of his existence as a shield – for he didn’t know many individuals or creatures that would bombard straight into fire. But perhaps she needed the right spark, indication, and practice. The Sword had snagged at those for years – his thoughts wound to the flinthopper, and what he could’ve done, had he been in reach of those powers. Of the Monster Hunter’s Guild, defending and destroying all in the same breadth. He shrugged his shoulders, and the flames diminished, back to residing in his being. “Try to decide what you will do with these.” And therein, he drew water from his own being – no need for the liquid laden at his feet – entangling, intermingling, so the droplets became ice, and the ice became miniature daggers and stilettos. Then they rushed toward her. If anything went completely awry, Zuriel was there - in all her judgmental glory (already snorting in the distance). Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime