The discussion that Raile, Rhenakos, and Drake held had ended with no one truly understanding the gravity of the situation. While they had all been present for the Voice and its message, they still hadn’t heard word one of Lady Angela or her condition. The Rosenites had not spoken up about it, and Drake had decided it was time to go ahead and start looking for these items that would supposedly help.

That being said, he found himself wandering about Jayou with barely a clue of where to even start. The list was simple enough, but he felt that Jayou wouldn’t have much, if any, of the items listed. He would have to leave the city to find most of the items, but that meant leaving behind the shop. And, although he reluctantly trusted Rhenakos to protect Raile, it wasn’t his job to. It was quite the dilemma. And it didn’t even begin to touch on the subject of Danwe and Xeik. His anxiety over their wellbeing felt like an endless pit, and it was only getting worse.

[i[Every step forward we take is trumped by another catastrophe. I just can’t win, can I? At least it can’t get much worse than this.

And as if to mock Drake, the fates decreed that it would get worse.

Rage. 

That was what filled him now. 

An endless, undying, uncontrollable rage. 

The torture Raith had suffered at Xyaban's hands had barely affected him; while he felt pain like others did it did not register with him in the same way… and in a way he had to thank her for it; she had pushed him to release the Dragon buried deep within himself that had caused the majority of his issues growing up. The inability to transform as his sisters both could had haunted the man far more than his lack of sight ever had and his jealous at them had only grown with every passing day - now he could transform at will and there was a new rage. 

The sheer power held within him in that form was immense and new to him and utterly uncontrollable… not to mention his anger and disgust at what had happened to Ria because of him and who he was. He knew she still loved him, knew that she accepted every part of him including the darkness and the murderer but he could not forgive himself for getting her involved… Xyaban had hurt her… beyond anything that the Dragoness could do to him that had broken him… And now he could not act upon it. He could not hunt her down and hurt her lest she turn on Ria once more and he knew, deep down, that he was going to have to reach out to her. To his mother. To a woman he had spent his entire life loathing… but he knew that if anyone could help him in locating Xyaban and getting her back for what she did to Ria then it would be his wretched mother. 

As angry as he was Raith had not trusted himself to stay in the shop - Ria did not need to suffer his anger in her state… she had suffered enough and while it would never have been directed at her she could not cope with any feelings of that nature right now, she was still far too fragile. As such the man had taken flight; barely relishing in his ability to fly (something he should have been elated at) and taken off to anywhere he could… which happened to be this city. The anger swelling within him was starting to consume him and as a man walked into him Raith swung without a seconds hesitation. With a roar he swung at full force and punched the man straight in the face.

To any normal person, that punch would have sent someone flying. As it was, Drake was pushed back, rocked by the sheer strength of the blow that had seemingly come out of nowhere. The poor innocent bystander that had been the one to bump into the assailant stood in shock for a moment, their mind slowly coming to terms with what had just transpired.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so so-” they started to say, but were cut off when Drake snapped back.

“Get going. Now.” His voice was calm, and assertive. The punch hadn’t been out of intentional malice. It had been something completely different. Now that Drake was focused in on the man before him, he felt it. Anger. It wasn’t far off from the dragon’s anger that he felt inside of him, which was why he could recognize it so easily. The difference was that Drake was able to direct that anger. This man before him, whatever his issue, needed an outlet. That blow had been the start of one.

And now he probably won’t back down, even if I try to talk him out of it.

As the innocent bystander ran off, Drake rubbed his jaw where the blow had connected. He had a choice to make. He could try to de-escalate the situation, but then the assailant might just blow his top somewhere else and cause a problem.

And a part of Drake really wanted to see where his strength came from. One of these days, this is going to get me killed.

“All right then,” Drake finally replied. “Are you ready to finish what you started?” He grinned, and with the full power of his own dragon at his disposal, threw a full powered punch.

Hands still balled into fists Raith stood with his head down, hair covering his blind eyes, chest heaving as he breathed heavily. The Dragon within him, an stranger to him still, welcome as it was, had begun to rise once more as he continued to dwell on the events of the past week or so. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, was the cold reasoning he usually inhabited - somewhere, his old self, the angry yet extremely calm man, whispered that this was a stupid bloody idea, and that this fight was pointless… but that part of him also knew that reasoning and logic was lost on the beast that had finally reared it's ugly head within himself. For too long he had craved that side of himself, it was part of the reason he had become who he was - he had spent too long wanting to be like the rest of his family, too long an outcast because of his condition, now that he had what he wanted he didn't want to suppress it… he wanted to unleash the full force of the beast and let it consume the world, before it consumed him.

The man he had attacked spoke, and Raith smiled, good - they understood one another. He had nothing against the man, but there had to be an appropriate outlet for his anger somewhere, and it had to be far from Alairia… She had already been dragged into his world, now he would keep her as far away from it as he physically could. His own words were lost, instead he snarled his response, lips curling to reveal his fangs. The punch hit him square in the jaw, like with Drake it did not send Raith flying, bit he did skid backwards, wings springing to attention to slow his movement. A joyous, almost murderous, laugh left his throat, one hand touching the ground as he felt the vibrations of the man he would now fight. He could not see - but that had never stopped him before…

Wings furled against his back, the muscles in his legs tightened like coiled springs… and he leapt forwards, left arm swinging for the man's face before he dropped to one knee, twisting his body immediately in the other direction to sweep at Drake's legs with his right. 

Drake’s initial punch hit dead on target, mirroring what his now-opponent had thrown. It seemed, though, to do little save for pushing him back. Drake tried to hide it, but his body betrayed him with a smirk. The whole thing was, admittedly absurd, but perhaps it was what he needed. As long as he could convince himself of that…

His opponent launched himself forward with surprising speed, landing the critical strike. He immediately followed up with a sweeping blow. Already off balance from the first, Drake hit the ground hard. He quickly rolled to the side to avoid any potential threats before pushing himself up with the utmost haste.

Drake uttered a low growl as flames started to encircle his body, leaving behind bright red scales across his arms and legs. His eyes, previously shining silver, were now a crimson red, the blood of the dragon activated in his veins.

Lunge. Strike. Don’t give him a chance. He launched himself forward, aiming for a full blown strike with his left fist, In his right, flames started to circle, forming a whirling ball of flame, a quick followup to his initial blow, and a counter should Raith decide to block the initial blow.

There was the rage.

There was the lack of fear. 

Serci had come face to face with that himself; had died at Raith's hands because of it… though the man had not remained dead, cheating death thanks to his association with the Lady Angela. 
Something in the back of Raith's mind said that he should pay the man another visit… after all, he had won that fight fair and square. 

His fist met the man's face, unbalancing him, the sweeping of his leg finished him off - his opponent hitting the ground hard. Raith had expected the man to get away, had wanted him to, if he finished the fight now then the Dragon within himself would never have been satisfied - and he would only have been forced to find another opponent with which to release the power building inside. 

Kneeling, fingertips to the ground Raith cocked his head to the side; sightless eyes 'seeing' through the man he fought as Drake growled, immediately alerting the blind man to his position. He could hear the flames, even at this distance he could feel their heat - but he did not fear them. One thing he had gladly inherited from his mother, he knew that he would sustain wounds, their encounter with Xyaban had been clear evidence of this - but he did not fear them, they were as inevitable as death itself. 

The man launched forwards, and Raith listened to how he moved to know what was coming. The left fist hit him hard but as it did so Raith felt the man's body tilting to use the right, not to mention he could feel the flames as they came towards him. Snarling, thrown back by the hit from the left hand, Raith raised his own to grasp the flame encircled wrist, a dark, malicious smile upon his face as he snarled. Keeping a tight grip he ignored the biting, scolding flames as he kicked out at the man, using his left foot to push Drake away from himself via his chest, his own wings snapping to attention to drive him backwards. 

The first blow connected, scales colliding with flesh. THis would have brought a smirk to Drake’s face, but Raith’s reaction was fast on the follow up, stopping Drake’s second blow from hitting. Drake barely had time to form a reaction before his opponent expertly used a direct kick to the sternum, pushing Drake back hard, and creating a distance between the two.

Drake was breathing hard. It had been some time since he had fought seriously, and he was more than out of practice. Still panting, he lowered his stance, his eyes trained on Raith. Think.

Everything about the way he fights is off. Drake thought. His moves were different, as though he weren’t seeing the world the same way Drake was. Perhaps…

A sly smile spread across Drake’s lips. His breathing slowed to a normal pace. A calm before a storm. Drake lunged again, flames bursting forth around his scaled fist, a powerful right jab aimed straight and true. Only the blow would never connect normally.

Magic had never been a strong suite of Drake’s, but with ample training from Lord Drae, the draconian had learned how to, at minimum, control Gates. He had been thinking of different ways to utilize them in combat, and had come up with a few different ideas.

The first, and easiest to try, was a standard fakeout. A small rift in space right where his punch should have landed, gated to location behind his opponent. A sure strike, if they had never dealt with Gate magic before.

Raith's head twitched from one side to the other, the movement less in keeping with his Elven appearance and more like the colossal Dragon contained within his heart, fighting to free itself from it's cage in his heart. He knelt once more, a coiled spring, ready to react at any moment, fingers digging into the ground beneath him, leaving deep gouges in the dirt. 
Despite the clear anger with which he was being driven, his breathing was extremely controlled - Raith lived for the anger within himself, he had become accustomed to it at a young age, it was not new to him, nor was harnessing it… now it was ten fold because of the Dragon he had unlocked however. 

The man came at him, and Raith was ready, he could hear the man's footsteps just as easily as if he were physically watching the man run at him. There was a shift in the air and Raith's head twitched, something had changed. Suddenly a fist connected with the back of his head, and Raith smelt the singed hair where the flames met him. Snarling he fell with the force of the blow, rolling forward and ducking to one side. 

So… the man had some tricks did he? Good, Raith wanted to play. Snarling he leapt back at the man, dagger, coated in a curse spell, thrown at the man's right side while Raith aimed a kick at Drake's left side.