Elevated over a ravine, the Massassi Arena has withstood the tests of time. It is arranged in a circular formation and made by a slab of stone that connects the opposite slopes of the ravine. On its eastern side, the floating arena leads to a staircase and into a near-vertical cliff face. Because of its nearly unsupported vantage that overlooks a several hundred-meter fall, even the smallest creatures can feel the occasional motion the platform makes as the breeze brushes across its cold surface.

Adding to the adrenaline rush of standing within the slab’s concentric patterns carved into the rock, barriers and obstacles echo the Massassi’s commitment to taking every advantage over their opponents. Pillars ring the outer edge without guard rails between them, some remaining intact and others having toppled into the arena or over the perilous heights. Weeds and other fauna cover each surface as nature seeks to reclaim the ravine and eventually send the arena itself to the depths.

A creaky rope-bridge leads away towards another ancient suspended platform with the same weathered, upturned stones. Mossy footing, and uneven ground make each of these platforms unique in small subtle ways. While there is no seating for formal spectators, the ancient stones of the Massassi Arena hold an omniscient, aged wisdom that speak to the things they have seen and the battles fought through history.

A third rope-bridge leads to yet another platform, completing the triad of battlegrounds that make up the Massassi Arena.

By the spirits, I love this view, mused Diyrian as she stepped from the mossy forest substrate onto lichen-covered rock steps. Before her rested a large circular slab of rock that looked like it had dropped from the sky and gotten stuck in between the ravine’s walls like a coin in a drain hole. Pillars coated the area — erect along the edges or broken across the flat space — and added to the ancient look of the place. Some reptilian avians took flight with a squawking ruckus from their stony perches as the Kiffar and her party neared. Diy would have thought, We’re not in Port Ol’val anymore, if she was actually paying attention to the surrounding landscape.

But the stone structure and the hundreds of meters drop below it was not the ‘view’ the woman was referring to. Her blue-green eyes were instead trained on how the sunlight seemed to warp and contour around the backside of one giant, muscled man. Strong, the Fade of her Master’s mister.

Dark, moss-colored dreads bounced at her angular jawline as Diyrian closed the gap between them. Her hand pressed against the crater that was the small of his back, the golden line running across her face scrunched up with a smile. The Chiss turned, mouth opening to boom some words throughout the ravine when Diy put a finger to her lips. Gesturing with a nod towards their Ryn bosses, she waited till they disappeared into the cliffside before matching his red gaze again.

“Miss Diy, should not we continue after Master Bleu and Miss Zujenia? What halts you?” he asked, his black eyebrow setting his concern.

Right, the ‘mission,’ like they really need us to trail them to check on some kids, the Kiffar mentally rolled her eyes. She loved working beside Zujenia, but training exercises were a bore. Yet, it gave her the opportunity to spend time with the Chiss. So, she put on her best grin.

“Why don't we,” Diy laid a finger against his chest, invoking a vision of careful buttoning and the smell of caf in her mind, “have a tussle of our own, Big Blue?”

“Miss Diy! I do not believe this is an ideal place for such activity.” Blue cheeks seemed to darken a tad. The woman noted and savored it, a small chuckle escaping her. Tracing her digit up his shirt and encircling the top button, she answered him.

“A spar, I mean. We should be training too, shouldn't we? Keeping fit?” A massive hand gently clasped around Diy’s just as she attempted to undo the fastener. Her crooked nose twitched as she smiled at the man who dwarfed her by nearly a meter and was more than twice her mass. “So, what do ya say?”

“Hmm,” Strong sighed deeply and seemed to ponder this prospect. Finally, he nodded with sparkles of anticipation in his eyes and moved the Kiffar’s arm away. “This is a good alternative use of our time. Miss Zujenia and Master Kordath will understand. In the Garmis family tradition, martial combat nurtures a healthy soul and purpose.”

Hooking her thumbs on the belt loop of her shorts, Diyrian turned and paced a few meters away while the other Fade unbuttoned his shirt.

Strong laid the folded clothing neatly upon a nearby downed pillar. He turned, flexing his arms to warm up. “I will not hold back on you, Miss, so do say when the duel is too much — ”

A red plasmic bolt scorched into the stone a meter away from him — a signal the match has begun. Vaulting over another stone beam, he crouched and flipped open the cover to the personal energy shield generator at his belt. With a press of his huge thumb, the energy shield surrounded him in a buzzing hum. Stres’trong’armis pushed out of his temporary cover, closing the distance.

The ex-gangster backpedaled slightly at his looming figure approaching, but her shots still honed in upon him. Plasma dispersed against the energy barrier one by one, and Strong reached out to grapple the young woman.

The bolts splashed against his shield, sending traces of light throughout his vision. Despite this, he could see the Kiffar smirking that blasted smirk of hers as he charged as if a hundred and forty plus kilos weren't bearing down on her. Strong was perplexed when she didn't even bother dodging out of his way when he reached her; he'd intended to try and at the least knock her down as she moved, but he hadn't prepared for this. Instead, he found himself reaching out with both hands and grasping her waist, turning to bleed his momentum and keep them from flying over the edge of the platform.

In his grip, Diy let out a leap of laughter as she was swung up off her feet and around.

”You did not dodge! Diy, I could have accidentally trod over you and caused significant injury to your body!”

She gasped for air as her laughter died down and Strong began to lower her back to the surface.

“Hah! I knew you wouldn't actually hit me, Big Blue,” she spoke, grinning at him. “Pulling your punches won't get you anywhere with me, you know. After all...you know I can take it.”

The large Chiss blushed, cheeks darkening to a purple hue. He was well aware of the woman's resilience, just as she was of his own. Memories of inspecting bruises, scratches, and bite marks in the morning rose unbidden, and Diy's grin just got wider. He dropped her abruptly, coughing.

“Wanna go again?” she asked playfully, twirling a pistol in her hand.

"My dear Diy, I will try not to restrain—" he found himself cut off as she hopped up and hit him on the side of the face with one of her blasters.

"Come on! Less talky, more fighty, Strong!"

The blow had been lighter than he would expect from her, suggesting to the Chiss that she was taunting him. The muscles around his left, glowing eye could be seen twitching minutely for just a moment.

"Diy..."

He leaned back as she went for another face shot with her pistol, her grin showing more teeth now.

Very well.

The large man reached out, his movements quick, fluid, and practiced, to grab her by the front of her shirt, his other hand going to her hip. For a moment he saw surprise and more than a little expectation in her multi-hued eyes before she let out a squeal of shock as he lifted her off the ground once more. He turned, pivoting on his heel and tossing her bodily across the platform, his aim careful enough to avoid smashing her into any of the pillars.

He was already pursuing when she bounced off the moss and vegetation covered rock surface, emitting a curse as she tried to roll through the landing. When she looked up she found him closing in, hands open and palms before him, shoulders hunched in. It was evident he was going for grapples, probably thinking that it would be easier to overpower her and to avoid injuring the Kiffar.

Diy spat some dirt and dust from her mouth and grinned up at him. "Finally!"

Strong responded with a broad smile of his own, finally getting into the spirit of things. He knew full well that Zujenia's companion was scrappy and full of quick wits and a quicker tongue. It was exhilarating to see her so ready to jump back into the fray with such as he after he'd already displayed his considerable strength. Not that she wasn't familiar with it already, spoke a quiet voice in the back of his mind that sounded far too much like his Master's, bringing the flush back to his cheeks once more.

"We should be quick about this, before Master Bleu and Zujenia return."

She flashed him a smirk and ducked under his reaching hands, trying to land a kick on one of his knees. Diy winced as her booted foot hit solid muscle.

"When are we ever quick about anything, big guy?"

Strong sighed in exasperation; her incessant teasing was going to cause him more harm than her physical assaults.

Losing a battle due to blood pressure issues would bring great shame upon the Garmis family name, Imust not falter!