[Karma]

Yvain Anwar sat on the edge of his bed, whispering to himself, his words laced with hate, and jealousy. The room would be robbed of its color by flashing violet-white sparks of his Lightning Mana. On his lap layed a Feather of Lightning, his key, to where? Him and his siblings Isle of the Sky, to the throne in the clouds. In his hand he held a paper writting by Achreon Bargiel himself. The bedroom robbed of its color, every fraction of a section violet-white sparks of his Lightning Magic, danced around his bedroom from the brewing hate of the Anwar.

It was the night of the Atheleon's combined training with Caethir.

Fuck, that trainings got to me, that Elder Caethiri injured me terribly.  I see it, I see the ancient lightning Magi casting at the back of my skull, the way they stor their mana, the way they ride their storm. 

---

"Irksome, like the Caethir Queen calls temporal injury."

"Achreon believes by printing names on parchement, is able to put fear in the hearts of Anwar.  A 'Kill List' is that the extent you're going to take it? Childish. I am glad you left.  You spent your uptime scribbling names on paper like a clerk, I cannot wait to run into you. You put Tasha's name, Lynettes name, Nimue's name, Iowyn's name, Morghain's name.."

"Tsk."

"I am tired of losing.  We're the same age, we fought many times a year ago, when you was considered an ally, maybe even considered family for wearing the colors of Atheleon. You beat me every single time, I think about it every single day. It's getting to the point I start to realize why I hate you even more than I should, it's very unhealthy. I know where you're at, but- Knowing you, I have faith you'll be out soon."

"... But I can't stop thinking about it."

"You fought the Lumin King, but I didnt.
You got Galahad to say you're strong, I didn't.
You .. disrespected the Orcale,
You Violated your own homes law.

Managed to get hundreds of men to notice you.

Got people to call you a Monster.
But I couldn't."

WHERES MY PRAISE?

WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO? F#$&!

"However."

"I am done. I am done being the loser, I hate you Achreon Bargiel." 

"Don't think I'll fall in war, don't think I'll die to some nobody, before I die I will murder you with my own hands, you'll be ionized by my Raging Lightning."

"I'll prove who is the better dancer of storms, you'll never take time to be a fancy clerk and write death threats to my family again."

"Mmcht." He harshly sucked the skin of his teeth.

"Soon, you'll look at me and wonder, how did I utilize my lightning that way, how did I do it and what are you doing different from me."

The air around his trembling hand ionized into a violet shroud, the sudden heat reduced Acherons paper to nothing before it could even reach his wooden floor.

Yvain didn't sleep through the night, he spent time staring at his ceiling within the Anwar Estate of Unreality.

...
There was only one thing in his mind, he repeated relentlessy as hours passed by.

"[My Lightning will grow sharper than  Achreon Bargiel's.]"