|The Best of the Best
Author: YamiPaladinofChaos PM
Lute and L'Archel meet. That should tell you enough.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor - Words: 569 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 6 - Published: 09-18-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4545446
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
It was inevitable, Seth despaired, though he had tried so, so very hard to avoid it. The first he realized what would happen should the two meet he panicked, but reasoned out that, since they were both mages, it shouldn't be too hard to convince Lady Eirika not to let them fight the same battles, or at least not in close proximity (read: within hearing, seeing, smelling, or sensing of each other). Outside of that was tougher to control, but since both had rather... unique social skills he hoped they would just orbit around each other, forever oblivious to the other's existence.
However, his gamble failed, and now he was stuck watching the events unfold, helplessly, all his legendary skill failing at this one moment in time.
The moment where Lute, self proclaimed mage prodigy and genius, met Lady L'Arachel, self proclaimed beautiful ally of justice (he refused to remember exactly what she called herself, it was just too ridiculous).
It would be the meeting of immovable object meets irresistible force. The mixing of fire and natural gas. Putting two tomcats in the same box. A catastrophe equivalent to nothing short of the apocalypse- except the apocalypse wouldn't leave Seth with such a headache afterward that he wanted to find Dolza and have the man pound it out of him.
In short, it was going to get messy, and no one wanted to be at ground zero when it happened.
Just what were the chances of Princess Eirika recruiting not one but two egomaniacal women with a penchant for hurling spells across the battlefield?
Apparently quite good.
"Like I said, you can't be the best, because I'm the best. There's no one in the world smarter or more talented than me," Lute asserted, crossing her arms with a fierce glare.
"Such blasphemy!" L'Arachel shouted, glaring back with equal force, "Such heresy, that one could possibly attempt to deny the claim that the utterly devastating beauty that is myself is the truly greatest, utterly peerless. The princess of Rausten is second best to none, especially not to a backwater child magician! I hail from a line of divinely appointed emperors, and I too possess the divine grace that makes me, L'Arachel, superior to all."
Seth briefly wondered how it was possible to talk so much and yet never seem to need to breathe, before chalking it up to a skill unique to the Rausten princess.
"Divine appointment?" Lute snorted, an unusually snarky look upon her face. "A Treatise on Rausten, Page Two Hundred and Five states that, and I quote, 'the idea of a divine appointment of the Emperor's of Rausten is an outdated and archaic tradition'."
"Who wrote that book? Tell me! I'll have them hanged for such slanderous words!" L'Arachel demanded angrily, fists clenching, face flushed red. After another moment, she calmed, and managed a sardonic, "Well, better to be a beautiful princess from a great nation than a no-name mage from nowhere at all!"
"I don't need your titles," Lute shot back, smirking as she pointed her thumb at herself. "My unparalleled genius alone is so great that I stand above all."
"Bah! Who says you're a genius, anyway?"
"Well, who says you're so beautiful?"
"What did you just say to me, peasant?"
Seth groaned, and prayed for a monster attack.