“We thank you, oh holiest of holies,” two voices intoned. “For your guidance, protection, and love.”

Their voices rang out, bouncing around within the vast confines of the arena. A brilliant, hazy tapestry spread out around them. It caught their charging opponents with their jangling metals and weapons, freezing them mid-step. The group of aggressors groaned as every muscle seized painfully. One spat as they exhaled, face twisting in pain.

The two One church combatants raised their right arms, fingers splayed. “You who bear witness to the word of the holiest yet rebukes his teaching, may your ears ring and your eyes cross.”

The chains around their necks jangled as the sound of a far-off tolling bell rolled through. A shockwave began in the furthest corner of the room. As it moved, it grew, dust trembling as the particles rose and outlined the invisible wave.

Unable to turn their heads, the frozen fighters remained oblivious to the approaching danger.

The sound hit them a second before the shockwave arrived. To the struggling combatants, it felt as if a large bell were being rung while passing them at a high speed. Their eardrums popped, dark red blood seeping out of their ears and nostrils as soon as the noise passed.

Then the shockwave hit the barrier erected by the two church members. The arena shook and rumbled around them as their bodies were crushed between the two forces. They opened their mouths to scream and found themselves unable to utter a single sound. Their gums rattled painfully as blood trailed down their teeth.

“May your sight,” the two devotees intoned. “Fail you. May your voice falter.”

Blood trickled from the corners of their eyes as the vessels in their bright sclera popped. Sweat and viscera slid down their faces.

The sound of bones creaking and cracking reached the ears of the One Church representatives. A sadistic smile creased their lips as a light lit their faces from below.

“Would you two hurry it up,” a husky voice broke the somber air that had settled over the arena. “Quit torturing the poor saps and get things moving. You aren’t chaining your incantations properly.”

As if they had just remembered the presence of their third member, the emissaries’ faces blanched. Mid-intonation and their voices faltered. The barrier wavered for a moment as the shockwave dissipated. Their opponents collapsed as the two conflicting invocations dropped.

“Look at ya, can’t even keep your concentration when surprised.” The owner of the husky voice clucked at his compatriots. “Again, heal them and start over.”

The two devotees grumbled under their breaths.

“Heal them or I’ll take control and send them after you myself.”

They were never given a time limit. Never spoken to about rules and regulations. Nothing. They’d been thrown into this so-called “Advent Tournament” with little more than a “go fight.” And now their superiors were using the matches as training opportunities.

“Who are we, but the body of the One made Three. May we take from our blessings and sow the unturned earth with his blessings.”

5971 clucked, sucking his teeth in annoyance. The older man could not help the fact that having to chaperone the younger generation was so vexing. At least his last two charges were somewhat competent. These two, less so.

“Come on, come on. Pick it up! You’re both taking much too long to activate your Voices. Louder!”

One of the young men, designated 3420, trembled as he tripped over the words. “B-bless th-those though they may-- fuck, ow!”

A slap resounded as 5971, with a heavy and gnarled hand, smacked the young man upside the head.

“Start over. Keep tripping over your words and the consequences will be dire. Do you want your throat to burn out?”

One of the broken and bloodied natives made to push themselves up onto their elbows. They let out a quickfire smattering of their guttural language, assailing the sensitive ears of the men.

“Shut him up!” bellowed 5971. He sneered as he stared the gibbering heathen down.

“Silence is a virtue most beloved of our lord and savior!” yelled the other young devotee, designated 409.

The native let out a gurgle as his arms lost their strength. The veins on his neck stood at attention as he inhaled, seemingly unable to exhale. A fresh bout of leakage sprung from his ears as he strained to breathe.

“You two better not let him die!” 5971 held out a hand and began mumbling. Light gathered around his fingertips, swirling in a clockwise motion as it condensed. The arena grew brighter as the light coalesced.

409 and 3420 quickly began their healing chant again. This time they were able to get through without stumbling. As they finished the words they pointed at the prone natives who were lying in a muddy pool of sweat and blood.

“Stand, be healed!” the two young men yelled together. A searing light flew at the natives and enveloped them, one after another. It became unbearably bright, the light from 5971’s hand and the two devotee’s invocation mingling into a brilliant explosion. For a moment, everything became still. The light stopped growing, the invocation of the two young believers cut off for a moment. The grimace on the older man’s face froze.

Then an explosion of light shook the arena. Pearlescent rays bounced off the smooth domed interior, casting a rainbow throughout the expanse.

The natives, trapped in their light, twitched as it reached its zenith. A ringing obscured the hearing of everyone involved in the match.

Tears eked out the corners of the 3 foreigners’ eyes as the weight and heat of the light crescendoed. The ringing peaked as blood dripped from their ears.

As the brightness faded they slowly opened their eyes. Blinking back tears while wiping the errant drippings, the 3 men sniffled as their sinuses released. While they were busy collecting themselves, the prone natives slowly rose. They swayed as they pushed themselves up onto their hands and knees. One of them coughed and spat. They rose to their feet, still swaying, and one of them immediately began gibbering in their harsh tongue.

“Ugh, not again,” 5971 muttered as he used a pinky to clear his ears. “You two shut them up.”

Still reeling from the blowback of their invocation, the 2 younger adherents quickly chanted a verse.

In the middle of his tirade, the native began spluttering. He coughed then attempted to speak again. As the words formed on his tongue, the sound died and all that came out was an awkward squawk. The rest of the natives let out racking, dusty coughs as the two young men finished their verse.

“Good, now a binding verse, if you please.”

“And on the last day, our Lord rested, marking that day as one of holy rest and contemplation.”

A few of the natives moved to step forward, their tatau flaring to life as they approached the odd foreigners. As if they ran into a solid wall, their bodies seized and refused further movement. Tendons bulged from their necks and arms as they fought the compulsion. Their muscles creaked.

“Excellent. A short verse goes a long way. Now, layer on extra verses to keep them tied down. Be quick.”

The two young believers quickly began separate verses, both with the aim of keeping the natives rooted.

The enraptured natives strained, muscles bulging as they fought the invisible bonds. One began frothing at the mouth as their bloodshot eyes concentrated on the immobile foreigners. Another was able to free their jaw for a moment and they began yammering in their thick, guttural language.

“Shut him up, please!?” 5971 flicked a wrist at the native. “Before I do it myself and that’ll be the end of our little exercise.”

3420 grumbled an invocation, layering it on top of the ones he had just completed. The native’s mouth shut with a clattering of teeth, pain echoing from the mere sound.

“Lord,” 409 began as he stepped forward, arms outstretched. “Grant me the strength.”

Bright halos of light covered the young man’s arms as he invoked his short prayer.

“Good, good, keep it nice and short,” 5971 mumbled, nodding as he scratched at his stiff beard. “Control it, boy. Control it.”

Unsteadily, 409 swept his right arm out towards the natives. Sweat beaded his brow as he grit his teeth, eyes tense with concentration.

The hairs on the nearly naked bodies of the natives stood on end as they felt something approaching, something they instinctively knew would be painful. They struggled, pulling and fidgeting until sweat was streaming down their forms.

A roaring filled the ears of the combatants as 409 slowly waved his haloed arm. The ground began to shake, disguising the shaking of the young man’s knees.

3420 ran up and wrapped his arms around his compatriot’s waist.

“Oh Lord on high,” the straining man wailed. “Grant my friend peace, so that we may endure!”

A thick plasma emanating a brilliant light crawled up the man’s legs. It oozed and ebbed as it made its way up to his thighs and around his waist. Then it solidified, hardening quickly and rooting him in place.

The rumbling continued, ground shaking beneath them. 3420 continued mumbling prayers under his breath, intertwining bits of scripture as he pressed his sweaty face against his friend’s back.

The halo burst forward from 409’s arm, billowing out and ripping into the immobile natives. They tried to scream, attempting to move out of the way. Yet they found themselves unable to do so.

The first native in the way of the plasma-like beam of light burst into flames as soon as it touched him. He let out a pained gargle as his stomach ripped open, innards bursting into flame before they could spill out.

The nearest native, next in line, was the only one with the ability to witness the horrors of the summoned attack. He watched as his comrade was torn in half by the slow-moving ray. He began struggling even harder, tears dripping and mingling with sweat.

The other natives began struggling as well, unable to bear witness but sensing that something was wrong.

“Nice and steady,” 5971 said as he watched with a placid expression. He yawned as if he were bored, covering his mouth. A wisp of bright light crept out of his mouth, joining the beam as it chewed into the immobile natives.