Hundreds of raccoons scampered along marble tiles. The clatter of their tiny claws scraping against the smooth material dissipated as the noise was drowned out by the booming sound of an angered lecturing.
"How many times, Egos? I've told you to stop drinking on the job. I'm not covering for you again if you keep this up." Ayshe Nugaeth, the first division commander of Atara's Divine Constabulary, was reprimanding Egos Isth for his tardiness. Judging by the scowl on Egos' face and the uninterested dullness of his sunken eyes - this happened a lot between the two.
Joen was leaning against the wall tampering with his uniform, ensuring everything about his appearance was in top shape. He was a proud squadron leader, and in his mind, it was always best to lead by example. Attending to his uniform also gave him a reason to ignore the scolding Egos was receiving just a few metres away.
Egos was the foil to this philosophy; his uniform hung loosely in some areas, too tight in others, and the damaged state of his armour left most of his vital spots open to attack.
"You don't even have your unit badge or identification sigil visible. How are people supposed to get help if they can't tell you're part of the city's enforcement personnel?" Ayshe continued as those scampering raccoons had finally reached their destination: her. At her feet, a number of the rodents lay down, creating a sort of raccoon moat which distanced Egos further from the executor of his disciplinary sanctions.
"Cut me some slack, trash rat. You know as well as I do that there's no point in me wearing the uniform. It's not like I'm going to go around helping civilians or saving lives. That's not what I'm here for." With the distance between them, Egos measured that he could insult her without incurring injury via physical retaliation. As his spiteful words dripped from his mouth, Joen grimaced, one hand reaching down for the hilt of his sword, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.
"Don't take that tone with me. My blessing might not be combat-oriented but I could still wipe the floor with your sorry ass." Ayshe spat back, her fingers absentmindedly beginning to fiddle with the golden, embossed ring on her middle finger.
"You don't need to protect your blessing, it's not like anyone would want it anyway." Egos continued to provoke her as his focus shifted to the ring on her finger. The corners of his lips upturned into a mocking grin - it was well-known within the Divine Constabulary that Ayshe was the only commander without the blessing of a combat deity. Instead, her blessing came in the form of Azeban's Ring, an artefact imbued with the power to communicate and control raccoons. Aside from this power, it was a minor boon which granted increased perception and movement speed.
"That's enough, Egos."
As she spoke, she cracked her knuckles, brought her stance lower to the ground, and concentrated her eyes on the aggravating man. The horde of raccoons broke their circular formation at her feet, scrambling off into the corners of the room to make way for the inevitable mayhem that was about to ensue.
"Alright, if this is what you want." Egos raised his hands into a guard, protecting his face more than his torso. The bulky man shifted his weight casually onto his back foot, then onto his front, repeating this motion until he was bobbing swiftly on the spot. His limbs were loosening with each passing moment, allowing Egos to relax slightly. In this room, with its marble floor and towering stained glass windows, the tension in the air had grown to the point that the Maidknight Joen was uncomfortable just being there. He simply chose to watch on until intervention was necessary.
Ayshe moved first. Her feet darted forward, one after the other, in rapid succession. Each step brought Egos more anxiety, yet the dead look of his sunken eyes betrayed the flurry of his mind. Blows came from every direction in an instant, with Egos barely managing to sprawl his arms out wildly in front of him to block them. He grits his teeth, taken aback by her speed. It seemed like she'd gotten even stronger since the last time the pair scuffled with one another - he attempted to pivot on his heel to adjust his stance. Ayshe reacted too quickly, sweeping her leg powerfully beneath the lumbering man. Now off-balance, his stocky body crashed down onto the polished floor. She now stood above him, their usual roles reversed, with her head declining to look him in the eyes, forcing the floored fighter to raise his eye line just to meet her own.
"Give up yet?"
"You already know the answer."
Egos collected some saliva in his mouth and spat in the general direction of his opponent, causing her to recoil with a panicked yelp of disgust. He seized the chance to put himself on the front foot, lifting his body from the ground and pressing his advantage. A barrage of weighty punches came Ayshe's way. Still, even in her panicked state, she parried them with relative ease, only conceding her space on the floor to Egos when he threw his overhand right hook directly to her chest, sending the commander hurtling back until the cold stained glass behind her rebuffed her on impact. Sensing his final opening, the man ducks down to the left, pulling his fist back momentarily before lunging forward with a fearsome roar. In most situations, a powerful attack like this would land and leave its target in dire straits, but just as the punch was about to land, Egos' footing failed him and he slipped, causing his punch to power straight past Ayshe's head and through the coloured glass behind it.
As his fist blew a hole straight through the window, fractured branches advanced further up the glass, with the jarring sound of cracking filling the air. A notable crash bellowed when the tension finally reached its breaking point and the entirety of the window came crashing down. Ayshe had managed to dodge away from Egos' attack, but the aggressor himself was not so fortunate. A myriad of jagged shards came raining down upon his form, and soon enough the man was slumped to the ground, every inch of his torso impaled with small shards of glass. Crimson spilt from each new wound until his grey shirt was soaked with red.
Joen walked forward - the first sign of movement from the knight since the fight began. He continued to pace closer to Egos, whose body was twitching in agony with every passing second; his injuries were slowly overtaking his ability to process the situation.
"I'll take him. You find someone to fix up the window. Hate to say 'I told you so', but I did tell you that this would happen if you kept fighting with him all the time."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
After her nonchalant retort, Ayshe turned to leave, her heavy boots battering against the smooth ground until she was followed out of the door by her entourage of raccoons which waddled behind her like dedicated, albeit loud, disciples. Joen was silently thankful for the peace with her exit, even if he still had a glass-impaled moron to take to the Divine Constabulary's infirmary quarters.