Any misgivings Kali had dissipated when the guitarist struck up the first chord. The music, and the message, were all that mattered. They wanted to remember the fallen, to rage at the injustice of the world that tore their friend away. Kali just wanted to let it all out.
Kali stared in awe; this was the power of a god. Demeter had completely reformed the space in a matter of seconds. The sandy, bloody, smell had given way to fresh grass with hints of pine. A soft summery breeze rustled the leaves in the trees.
Slumping her shoulders, she muttered “You’re better off without me. You’ve shown that today. You don’t need me, and I definitely don’t need you."
Though it had never rained in Camelot, the entire camp was covered in a blanket of snow for the Winter Festival. Snowflakes were drifting steadily from a clear blue sky.
Frost seemed to cling to her breath, and the temperature dropped. Her opponent was clearly known as the Winter Prince for a reason, she grinned, as she saw a familiar face approaching.
The later combat rounds were…brutal. The rules were dropped, and the fight would continue until there was a decisive outcome. That meant one of the fighters had to concede the fight or be unconscious or incapacitated.
Look at me, wildfire. I saw that you were resourceful, and stubborn. I saw you protecting every other prisoner in there by throwing yourself to the goddamn wolves. I saw you stand up to a god, and I saw you win.