Fate/King

Pythian Games [ Part 4]

When Icarus brake at the finish line, he kicked up a huge cloud of dust and skirted about 15 metres away. He almost fell on his face more than twice but luckily he used air magic to buffer his speed. His speed got absorbed by his magic but he did not get scattered as the air magic and the natural air cut him up.

When Icarus Icarus was revealed to the world, his clothes were in a mess, his hair was in disarray and one of the straps of his sandals were torn off.

Silence took over, over the Crimean plains then commotion ensued. The heavens shook under the loud noise happening over the city.

'Fuck me if you see me doing this again.' Icarus swore. That was dangerous. Dangerous than the word Dangerous. Because if his 'landing' strategy was off even a little bit then people would've to pick his pieces all over the place.

Icarus took a deep breath and tried to calm himself by twirling his long hair only to realise that he was shaking.

Icarus laughed detachedly. 'F-F-Fuck! T-that was scary.'

Scary than death alright.

Distantly Icarus heard the Announcer claim him as the winner of the first round of the athletic aspect of the Pythian Games.

One of the competitors came to him.

"Krylin." The guy introduced himself as he stuck his hand out.

"Icarus." Icarus greeted in return and clasped his hand with the other guy's.

"You were so fast there, are you sure Hermis didn't bless you?" The guy -Krylin- jokes.

"If I didn't know then I do now." Icarus responded in kind.

Krylin laughs obnoxiously and grabbed his arm in a 'glove handshake'

Icarus felt like the veins around his arm were busting out. Krylin's grip is THAT strong.

Icarus sweat dropped.

"You're a funny guy. You're wasting your talents here, I suggest you be a court jester." Icarus commented.

Krylin 'patted' Icarus shoulder blades. He is putting emphasis on 'patting' because Icarus feels like this guy wants to kill him with how much force he is exerting.

"I'll see you in the next rounds. Don't slack on me, Icarus!" Krylin waved at him and strutted off.

Icarus messaged his shoulder blades and legs as he sighed.

'Im slightly regretting participating.'

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"And... We're back! This round is going to feature Poets and Storytellers! Come on stage." The nameless Announcer that Icarus never cared to remember his name-Not that he paid him any attention in the first place- announced again.

"Now for those who had forgotten, I'll introduce our participants again. From our left we got our boy wonder, the first person to snatch the crown under everyone's eyes, Our promising Candidate, Icarus Of Athens!"

The Crisaean plains shook with cheer again. Icarus can see that they're currently favouring him but it's not like it is not going to change if someone won this round.

Icarus shrugged and tuned out what the announcer was going to say next.

....

Five minutes later, the Announcer cried again.

"Let's start with poetry."

Icarus watched as people stepped backwards when they heard that they're starting with poetry. Some people are obviously left.... They're... Icarus counted 10. Another one of those people is... Krylin.

That guy even had the nerve to wave at him excitedly.

Icarus rolled his eyes and nodded at him. No need to be a jerk.

"Now you, my dear participants, are going to compose a poem about the...[Moon]. This will be the title of your poems, now... START!"

Icarus didn't rush to anything, instead he stood still and pondered. 'Moon, huh.' a homage to their patron God's sister. Because of course it'll be about her, many people don't stop bitching about how the Moon -Artemis- is beautiful and whatnot.

A poem about the Moon. Icarus' face twitched in aggravation, 'This..will be tough.'

No, it's not that coming with a poem about the Moon is hard, it's that the poem must not paint Artemis and Selene in a bad way because if it did...well no use talking about it.

Let's see, let's see.

Icarus played with his chin as he contemplated this roadblock.

Unconsciously Icarus took out his painting brush and twirled it in his hands.

Since the Crisaean plain is low to the ground and its bleachers are almost close to the stage, Icarus saw one audience member holding a glass of wine. When Icarus saw that an idea was starting to shape in his head.

He stook big stripes towards the audience and grabbed the glass of wine from the man, leaving him dumbfounded.

Icarus soaked his paintbrush in the glass of wine.

Icarus doesn't know that much offensive magic but there's one thing that he knows very much- Inventing.

Icarus is a son of Daedalus, innovation is the blood in his veins and even then he helped his father design some interesting things that are currently helping Greece right now.

So it isn't a surprise that Icarus changed his normal paintbrush Into a magic tool- a [Mystic Code]

It's a supporting item that doesn't do much outside helping him with painting.

So it wasn't much to rebuild it.

Icarus took the brush out of the wine and wrote in the air before him.

Long strips and short strips.

Icarus can hear the crowd gasping around him.

Wind blew his long air and chiton, making him look like a God descended from the heavens.

Standing there in the midst of the people admiring him, Icarus' expression didn't even change.

Calm and quiet confidence evident in the way he holds himself.

Icarus finished with his poem. Right there, written on the air.

Icarus knows that not a lot of people know how to read so he reads it to them.

A calm voice with indifferent undertone resounded around the Crimean plains.

"....."

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