Vrael watched impassively as the royals flaunted their so-called skills. In truth, it did not matter how much overwhelming skill one had in the battlefield, one mistake and it is all over. He watched the knight and queen begin their sparring, was this a show? Or was this a move to boost public morale? If he had been faced with an armoured opponent, the first thing he would attempt to do is to light the knight on fire, cook him in his own armour. But then again, this was supposed to be a . . . honourable sword fight.<br/><br/>He gave them that they were trained, but they lacked the quicker footwork which the elves were taught and favoured.<br/><br/>------<br/><br/>Marisa gaped at the sky as her technicolored eye caught onto something above them through the clouds. It was large, judging by the number of Flaw Lines it had spanning across its body and next, it was coming straight for the crowd. She shrunk back into the shadows, the natural instinct for self preservation kicking in.