A Battle for All - Order 3

It was finally time for the awaited battle, Wassail stood to the side with the yellowy green headian, whose name he got to be Doc. He watched as the shimmering silver haedian, called Tron, donned his armor. It was a spike covered set, his shoulders and flanks having more pronounced ones, along with his helmet.

“Thank you, Tron, for doing this for me.” The scarlet and teal runner smiled at the armored haedian.

“It isn’t an issue, I assure you. Win or lose against her, the clan has mostly made up their mind, this is just for show.” The silver haedian spoke, his armor clanking softly as he walked forward to get his weapon.

“Kid, you’re gunna need to help him from the side lines if you want him to at least have a chance for survival. Shira does not go easy on anyone who challenges her or her beliefs.” Doc said, his gruff voice wavering a bit, even though his face gave nothing away.

Wassail watched as Tron entered the ring, really it was just a circle of Order members encasing a semi shallow pit. The red and black stag horned leader, Shira, leaped in to the pit with a snarl, glaring at not just Tron, but also at the runner.

“This battle will last until one can no longer move, be it to the death or not.” She snarled, lifting her maw in to the air with a wicked smile, glaring right at the runner.

Wassail stiffened, pulling his wings tight against his body. He flinched when he felt the pain of the damaged feathers shoot through the limb. Doc put a hand on his back, keeping him still, keeping his cerulean eyes on the Order clan's leader. He glanced back towards the yellowy green haedian before looking back at Tron, who stood proudly with a glint in his crimson eyes. He let out a deafening roar, before picking up the sword he had shoved in to the ground earlier. He leapt at the stag horned leader, slashing at her with the sword. Shira responded with an equally aggressive and powerful attack, trying to bite at Tron’s throat between his armor plating.

He snarled around his sword hilt, swinging his sword down along its side. It clipped one of the red and black leaders' horns, but not enough to truly affect her more than tilting her head to the side. Shira returned the nick with a slam of her own weapon, a shield. She slammed it in to Tron’s side, causing him to stumble back in to the crowd along the upper ridge of the pit.

“Come on, Tron! You got this!” The scarlet and teal runner shouted, leaping to his paws as he saw the silver Haedian stumbling on his feet.

Wassail left the safety of Doc’s side, who gave a protesting shout. He rushed to where Tron was, shoving past the leering Order members. He paid them no mind though, they weren’t worth it.

“Tron!” He called again.

“I am fine… Just a bit shaken by it is all.” The silver haedian shook his head to clear the echoing in his ears.

“Still.” Wassail had worry clear in his teal eyes, looking over Tron’s armor trying to see if it needs to be switched out yet.

But he didn’t get that far before Tron was throwing himself back in to the fight with a yell and a snarl. Wassail made his way back to Doc before he noticed another being sitting next to the gruff haedian.

“Oh, you must be Wassail. While I wish the circumstances were different, I am pleased to meet you, I am Prill, Tron’s bonded.” The red and blue haedian smiled, his feet surrounded by a pale blue mist.

“I am…” The runner looked up and down the other before tilting his head, “Doc mentioned you before.”

“Of course he did.” Prill laughed, covering his mouth with one of his hands, “This is unfortunately not the first time that Tron has fought our leader on someone else’s behalf. Though they are typically from another clan and not an outsider.”

He looked at the runner, not with contempt, but with worry and care. He sighed a bit, turning to watch the fight.

“Sometimes I wish he would follow me back to my home clan, but I know why he stays here.” Prill sounded forlorned, the worry in his voice clear as day.

With another tumble, this time towards the group of haedians, Tron was down for the count. Wassail jumped to his paws, grabbing a bottle from near Doc’s feet, rushing towards the silver haedian.

“Tron! Come on… You gotta get up…” Wassail opened the bottle and pushed it towards Tron who took a shuddering breath in.

His sword was a good distance away, too far for the runner to grab safely. The haedian grasped the potion bottle and swallowed the contents in one gulp before shaking his head looking at the red and blue Haedian on the sidelines.

“Tell him I’ll wrap it up soon.” Tron smiled, both fiercely and warmly.

“Of course. Thank you, Tron.” Wassail smiled back before returning to the pair who sat with him.