Robert
"You KNEW! Is it not why I sent you searching for one in the first place?"

With each word, Alyus began to slowly descend down the stairs leading up to his throne. Each step and word seemed to bounce off the wall, only adding to how menacing and terrifying the king was in this very moment. As he finally got down on the same level as Ishmael, he let out a loud and anger filled sigh. He had known this bear since he was a cub, Ishmael's father was one of Alyus's best guards, still was in fact, for he was one of the honor guards at the side of Alyus's throne in this very moment.

*However, Ishmael's father stayed still next to the throne. His eyes cast forward, for he couldn't look at his son, not when he knew what was going to happen..*

Alyus shook his head down at Ishmael, before making a hand gesture to the guards that kept him shackled. The minute he did so, the guards began to unshackle the beaten bear, and his body fell to the ground with a *Huff.* Two more guards emerged, and removed Alyus's robes and any armor he had on, save for his britches. They then handed him his battle axe. During this time, another guard appeared, and threw the black bear's sword to his feet. The only way Ishmael would live to see another day, was if he beat King Alyus Archaius, the dreaded and most feared shapeshifter in all of Lucidien..

***In combat.***

"Stand up, Ishmael. Show me you deserve to live."
Charles
Ishmael trembled as Alyus began to descend down the stairs, and jumped when he shouted in his face. He cowered away, only stopped by the two guards behind him. It was only when he saw his king taking off his armor that he realized what was happening. His sword was thrown to his feet and his shackles removed. He shook his head, terrified.

"N.. No. Please my King! I will fix it I.."

Ishmael's words fell on deaf ears, however. Eventually, with a sigh, Ishmael slowly and weakly picked up his blade and stood before his king.

"If this is your wish my King, so be it."
Robert
Watching the King internet with Ishmael was a sight to behold. The way Alyus so carelessly glided down the stairs and ready himself for battle. But *Why* Fight? What was his reasoning? Feyre didn't know the laws of this land, but this was surly enough to know the minimum. 

The blue eyed doe watched in anxiousness as the battered and bruised bear weakly stood from his chains, leaving the King still emotionally distant to what was to come. Was Alyus truly this evil?

Feyre couldn't seem to get her mind of the exchange in the library nonetheless, how snarky and intense the King was to her, especially in his human form. There was something about it however, something that kept her heart racing even now as she felt her eyes were glued to watch this scene pan out.

Alyus readied his battle axe, balancing it in his hand slightly. He then pointed it at Ishmael and boomed loudly, his voice echoing across the room.

"Ishmael Farengard, you a hereby sentenced to death by combat. Should you survive, you will be exiled from Gantrick. **Forever.**"

Alyus then waited only a moment after he spoke to give Ishmael time to ready himself before a loud roar shouted from his mouth. He clashed his axe with Ishmael's sword and a battle ensued. Even though the black bear was weak, he wouldn't go down without a fight. It was against everything he was raised and trained to do, and by Anthron, he'd fight to his last breath. He knew there was no possible way to beat Alyus, but he'd give it his all.

Alyus attacked with a flurry of blows to Ishmael, the sound of clanging steel filling the room. From Feyre's point of view, one of the guards standing next to the throne seemed extremely tense, his paw hand even gripping his own sword. Alyus continued to fight Ishmael, but eventually the black bear's sword was flung from his hands. Alyus pointed his battle axe to the bear's chest, his own heaving only slightly from the battle. This fight? It was nothing compared to the other's the King had been in. This was child's play.

"Any last words, Farengard?"

Alyus turned his head slightly, for he was not talking to Ishmael. The guard that seemed tense took a slight step forward, his voice quivering with what sounded like both fear and anger all at once.

"My son.. May Alintha light your path."

The guard then took his previous stance next to the throne, his head bowed in refusal to watch what would happen next. Ishmael let out a slight sob on his knees before bowing his head in defeat. If Feyre wished to retain any innocence.. She'd leave now.