Phoenix Eclipse

Chapter One: The Suha Siblings

The early morning light shone down on the training grounds, seeping through the red leaves of the Blood trees. Surrounding the raised platform were the young Blood Elves dressed in their training clothes; a single black tunic shirt and white pants with a silver cord holding them up. On the left sleeves were stitched the badges signifying their training level, the right held the crests of their Houses and Clans.

Standing out from the assembled Blood Elves was Master Miroslav Voltair. His medium length hair was pulled into a simple ponytail; leaving only two thick strands of hair free to hang down on either side of his face, a few strands of silver-grey running throughout. He was tall even for a Blood Elf and lean from his military life. Scars from various skirmishes lined his body, including the one that bisected his left eyebrow and ran down past his left eye. His reddish-brown eyes followed the movements of the two students fighting before him.

Seraph Gregori was the oldest son of Saephiroth Gregori, Lord of the House of Gregori. An average-sized Elf, his golden brown hair was braided into a long plait, his frame packed with heavy muscle earned through intense physical training; just like his father, who was a dear friend of Miroslav.

His foot flashed out, catching his opponent in the chest. The younger boy tumbled back, flipping to his feet even as Seraph moved forward. The boy was not an Elf, but a human wizard from Britain. Shyamal Suha stood at a one and three-quarter meters, which was tall for his age but only barely average for an Elf. His thick black hair was unlike the Elves as well; spiky and short. His green eyes narrowed as he circled around Seraph, careful to keep out of Seraph's punching range. His build was lean, a necessity for those who depended on speed and agility, which was a great counter to Seraph's raw strength and heavier build.

Already, both boys were sporting minor wounds. Shyamal had a black bruise forming around his right eye, a cut lip, and sore ribs from the way he was moving even though he was trying to hide it. Seraph had a cut brow which was bleeding into his right eye and a bloody nose that was broken from the looks of it. He was also favouring his left arm; a result from when Shyamal had overextended it to get out of the submissive hold Seraph had on him a few minutes ago. Sweat drenched their neckline, covering their faces and arms.

Shyamal moved, darting in under Seraph's punch, taking full advantage of the limited range of the injured arm. Blocking the swing with his left forearm, Shyamal drove his right fist into Seraph's collarbone.

A snap cracked the air as Seraph howled in pain. The Blood Elf stumbled back. Shyamal moved back, spinning around to deliver his foot into the side of Seraph's head, driving him to the ground.

"Mark!" Miroslav shouted, ending the bout.

Shyamal immediately froze his attack before taking a step back and bowing as Miroslav stepped into the ring, The Master of Combat returned the bow, watching as Shyamal helped Seraph up from the floor.

"A valuable fight, boys. I see you both have started learning your lessons."

Shyamal was fast and agile but his speed was countered by his lack of endurance and body strength, which Seraph had in spades. Miroslav saw Seraph wince as his broken bone was jarred.

"Seraph, head to the infirmary. No doubt, you will be removed for the rest of the day as those bones heal. Shyamal, you've been summoned to the Palace. King Shahriar wants to speak with you."

Shyamal didn't say anything as he bowed his head in acceptance. As they were moving off the platform, they heard Miroslav order the next two students on the training ground.

"I wonder what the King wants to speak about with you," Seraph said, trying to not jar his bone again.

"It has to be something big; he doesn't usually summon me when I'm here." Shyamal tilted his head, taking a glance at his oldest friend. "Sorry about that."