From her vantage point over the battlefield, Fleya was able to take in all the details. She stood on the ramparts of the small fort stretching out behind her. To either side of her, men and women lined up, looking down on their attackers, forming a defensive line any general would be proud of. Stretching out below her was a once beautiful field. The picture painted in front of her used to be entirely different. Just days ago, a herd of deer had been seen living in the area, along with a variety of other wildlife. Now there was only trampled earth, smoke in the air, and the cries of people as they fought for their lives. And the ever-cawing cries of the crows hovering above it all. Occupying the meadow was a horde of soldiers bearing down on their fort. Each one ready to throw themselves forward to claim just another small section of land to add to their own. She was not about to let that happen. While she was only a Knight, she was close to advancement and had plenty in reserve to see this fight through. She reckoned this battle should be over in the next couple of days, with a short recovery period. Then she would be off, ready for whatever task came next. Their kingdom was not the largest of the fragments, but it certainly was not the weakest. Her fragment Avedor, was known for it's fierce warriors, talented generals, and skilled tacticians. But above all, they were known for their strength in the Adroit. Adroit were the cream of the crop, simply for the gift they were born with. Any one of them could manipulate the world to some extent. The stronger the person, the larger the scope of manipulation. The power an Adroit could use was completely based on their natural affinity with the world. While some could play with fire, others could create weapons from thin air, or were naturally dispositioned with a battle mode. What set their fragment’s Adroit off from the others was the Academy. A school open to all where people could learn to harness their power. The one stipulation was mandatory service in the army, and allegiance to be sworn to the Kingdom. Fleya’s powers were unique in the fact that her affinity was towards time. Hers was a very rare affinity, almost as rare as the dual casters. She did not have power over all of time, just within a radius around her body, but it worked. Not many could find a way around her abilities. Hence the constant travelling and skirmishes. Because of her affinity, she was fast tracked through the Academy and had achieved the rank of Knight. Bracing herself mentally, she reached out to her immediate surroundings and felt for the ever-flowing lines of time. In a single breath, she found herself connected to everyone around her. She could foresee, to an extent, what would happen to each one of those people. She could feel how time twisted around every individual, how each movement they made would affect their immediate future. She knew that the soldier on the ramparts twenty feet away would fail to move his guard in time, allowing an arrow to pierce his throat and pin him to his comrade just behind him. She could see how a slightly miscalculated turn of a blade would allow three more soldiers on the southern walls to be cut down, allowing for a breach in their defenses. She could feel each archer pulling back on their bows, unaware of the barrage of harpoons sailing at them from above, cast in their direction by a hostile Adroit. Fleya saw all of this in an instant, taking action immediately. Flexing her power, she sped up the guard’s block, allowing him to get his shield up in time. At the same time, she reached out to the opponent of the three soldiers, and pulled as hard as she could, slowing him just enough. The defending unit utilized this time to lunge forward, sheathing their swords in his body. The man fell back, taking their breaching ladder with him. Snapping her attention over to the archers, she felt as the harpoons entered her manipulation zone. Fleya pushed back on the harpoons, slowing them but not by much. Another Adroit? Fleya could feel a pressure behind the harpoons, one that wouldn't be there if only time and momentum were pushing the missiles onwards. Drawing on her Knight level madra reserve, Fleya fed her technique direct from her own pool of power. The harpoons slowed to a crawl in the air above the battlefield, drawing eyes from across the battlefield. Then, suddenly, the missiles jerked forward through the air, coming to a halt moments later, mere feet from impaling their quarry. They must be feeding their madra into their technique, Fleya thought to herself, all of her attention directed towards the harpoons now. Wiping the blood running from her nose, she dug in deep and heaved against the mental block. Slowly at first, but then all at once, Fleya could feel the other Adroit caving under her willpower. Moments later, the pressure against her disappeared. Completely in control of the harpoons now, she forced madra into the weapons. The archers looked up to take aim and noticed the rapidly aging wall of death inbound to their location. Not having enough time to react, they stood there as the missiles hit - and felt dust as they disintegrated with the wind. Fleya staggered back for a minute, clutching at her head. Splitting her focus wasn't an easy thing to do when manipulating more than a few threads of time. Collecting herself and taking a quick survey of the battlefield, she stretched her grasp of time out further, pushing for maximum coverage. Sensing more streams of time enter her perception, she grabbed ahold and them and channeled as fast as she could. The soldiers on the ramparts stood in shock as before their eyes, their enemies aged. The progression was so fast it was shocking. Within seconds, young, stocky soldiers with bright futures were turned into bow-backed men, too frail to keep themselves up on their feet. The weight of their weapons and armor pressing down on them like the sky on Atlas’s shoulders. They crumpled, falling into their brethren below them. Taking advantage of the slight reprieve, the soldiers all sent out a cheer knowing their day today would be tenfold more difficult without Fleya’s support. In her small time on the warfront, she had developed somewhat of a reputation. Seer, they called her. She thought it silly, but whatever helped rally them was fine in her books. Ignoring the sudden drag she felt at the expenditure of her power, she pushed on. She focused in on the enemy before her. Mobs of soldiers from the Prewyth Empire, a slightly larger fragment than their own, lay before her. With her expanded bubble settling over them, they felt their bodies slow, as if pushing through molasses. Using this opening, Fleya directed the archers to release their valley. The sky darkened as hundreds of angry arrows whistled through the air, searching for a home with the soldiers below them. One by one the arrows found it. An entire unit off the western rampart dropped, dead before they knew what happened. Fleya repeated this action four more times, staggering towards the end. Seeing the enemy herd thinned, she fell back, utterly spent for the time being. Area wide attacks were much more difficult to repeat and sustain. The enemy front line faltered as five units dropped dead within minutes. Each without so much as a chance to defend themselves. Fleya couldn't help but smile, at least a little. Not at the lives taken, for that was always a tragedy. But at the feeling of her barriers slowly loosening. She could feel her rank give way each time she pushed herself and for that, she was always grateful. A cry pierced her ears, turning her attention to the ramparts on the southern front. Righting herself, she watched as their entire front line dropped, their bodies sliding apart at the hips. Another cry came from her right, and she watched again as the same feat was repeated. Straining with all her might, Fleya pushed out with her perception, searching for the cause. There! So fast she almost didn't catch it. A man, faster than anything she had seen before, streaked through the ramparts. A few quick swipes with his sword and more of her soldiers dropped, unable to retaliate against the sudden onslaught. Fleya’s spiritual sense combed the battlefield, searching as fast as she could to find and grasp the man’s time stream. With as much power that she could muster, she pulled at the fabric of time with her madra. Fleya’s body turned into a conduit of time, sucking every ounce of the ethereal substance into her. A globe roughly one hundred feet in diameter appeared in the air surrounding the battlefield with Fleya at its center. The globe appeared to be completely translucent, yet somehow shiny as well. And inside of it, everything had come to a stop. Arrows stood in mid-flight. The crows above were held in place, like paint on a canvas. The soldiers were stopped mid-swing, the blood flinging from their blades hanging in the air. The entire battle came to a halt, both sides looking in amazement at the feat that had been accomplished before them. The Prewyth archers, hoping to capitalize on the sudden opening, shot off a volley of arrows. All breath was held in place as all eyes turned to watch. Not a single arrow was able to breach the globe, as if the very air itself held everything and everyone in place. An eerie silence crept over the battlefield as everything stilled. No one was sure what to do. Fleya was dying inside, trying to hold everything down. She had, however, succeeded in her goal. The mysterious figure was stopped, a foot away from her, mid-stride. His blade pressing just barely into her neck. The two were locked in time, staring each other down in an eternal battle. Fleya could feel him straining against her domain, pushing to escape it and slide his blade across her neck. And slowly, she felt it as his blade crept forward. Slowly, so slowly it was to be indiscernible, but it was moving. This Adroit was strong, and she had no idea as to how he had managed to evade her perception for the duration of the battle. As the two were locked there, the sky above darkened. Billowing, black clouds built in the sky, cackling with lightning. The clouds crawled across the sky, blocking out all light except for the light created by the globe and the flickering lightning. The soldiers stood still, staring up at the clouds and globe, not understanding what was going on, but feeling a deep sense of dread creep up their spines. The lightning streaked faster, and faster, building into a torrent of power directly above the globe, forming into a blinding white light. CRACK! In a flash of light, the fabric of reality was split as the lightning streaked down towards the globe. The globe, able to withstand valleys of arrows, shattered under the impact of the strike. Driving forward, the bold slammed into the Prewyth Adroit, coalescing into his body which immediately burst like an overripe grapefruit. The lightning continued it's downward descent, cleaving the rampart in half as it slammed into the earth. A wave of pressure slammed everyone to the ground as the thunder from the strike swept across the land, flattening the grass as it went. Lightning followed, searing into all of the soldiers present as it leaped from one suit of armor to the next. Entire legions were disintegrated in seconds, nothing withstanding the force of the lightning. Fleya was sent flying into the air by the force of the strike. Using the last of the power that saturated her body, she wrapped time around herself in a cocoon. She reversed her time and crept slowly back towards the wall, her wounds stitching up as she went. Fleya peered into the sky, looking at the lightning bolt as it continued to pour down from the sky, unbelieving what she was seeing. A man, roughly her age, appeared to be floating inside of the lighting. Eerily, his body was completely pitch black, as if covered in pure shadow. He floated down, his hair defying gravity as it floated upwards, lightning leaping throughout. He radiated power from his very being. A power so strong, it felt ancient. Fleya tried to peer closer and was able to make out faint tattoos that covered the man from head to toe. The man’s eyes opened, and they met Fleya’s. She stared into those eyes, one completely red and glowing, the other saturated white, with the tiniest blue pupil she had ever seen. For what felt like eternity, the two maintained the eye contact. The lightning slowed then finally stopped, leaving the man floating there, the ground below him completely decimated, with Fleya being the sole survivor. Moments later, the man fell backwards, passing out as the shadow and light faded from his body. Acting on instinct, Fleya used the last of her power to stop his body as it careened towards the earth, after which she passed out; the strain from the battle catching up to her.