Steel clashed against steel in a brilliant flash of sparks, sending shockwaves through a dust-covered arena. The arena itself was enclosed entirely in a large colosseum that housed a few thousand phoenixes; nearly the entire population of phoenixes in Phoenix Castle.
Each and every one of these phoenixes, including their benevolent King Trevor, stood silent with their eyes transfixed on the humbling scene unfolding before their eyes, robbed of the ability to blink.
Locked in a fierce battle at the centre of the arena was a group of four young phoenixes. A white-haired boy wielding a fire lance took a defensive stance in the way of the Air Elemental Arts against three opponents.
His sapphire eyes expertly scanned his surroundings, the arena and his nose offered him far more than he needed: sweat, scents, the ground, heat, ash, the approaching rains, people's breakfasts.
