Constrained Potential

The arena, our celestial battlefield, was a space where we often indulged in friendly contests and evaluated the capabilities of aspiring angelic warriors. Only a handful were able to withstand the grueling trials we orchestrated for them. From time to time, we would guide a few extraordinary pawns—human souls who demonstrated an exceptional penchant for combat and sorcery. One such pawn under my wing was Perx, a prodigy who, having completed his training, was now spearheading his own squad of hunters, relentlessly pursuing and annihilating rogue overlords who had slipped the chains of hell. Our pawns did not lead commonplace lives, but they embraced their chosen path with fervor. We scrutinized their determination and allegiance before unveiling the mysteries of our craft. Perx was a unique breed of a shadow angel, a hybrid capable of seamlessly infiltrating the demon ranks undetected, eliminating the most perilous ones before they could sow chaos. The highlight was his ability to do so without leaving a trace. The downside, however, was his destined future threat to us, as foreseen in the visions. A forced mind reset was to him imminent before that occurrence, but time was on our side. He had yet to show any signs of treachery. His unwavering obedience and reasonable nature made him a reliable ally.

Back in the arena, Michael threw down the gauntlet, challenging me to test my powers once more, a challenge I eagerly accepted. I, in turn, tested his abilities. He seemed slightly rusty but was still impressively skilled. After an hour of crossing swords, launching spears, and summoning divine spells, I felt an unfamiliar wave of fatigue engulf me. This was an anomaly. I had never known exhaustion, even after days of relentless combat. Now, after merely an hour, something was amiss. Michael had me cornered, probably for the first time ever, and I was unable to fight back.

"Exactly as I feared. Can you see it?" He asked. I retorted, "I see it, damn it. It's bad, isn't it?" Attempting to pacify me, Michael said, "Not really. It could have been worse. Gabriel faltered much sooner." Trying to master some strength, I said, "Give me a minute. I can still fight, I swear." "No, look!" He pointed at the second Raphael, who was escorted by the same two guards as before. They were likely showcasing the arena to him. He seemed taken aback to see me there, weary and with Michael. Michael swiftly dispelled his sword and any trace of our duel seconds before his arrival, but Raphael was not easily fooled, "What brings you to the arena?" He inquired. I was about to respond when Michael interjected, "We were just engaging in a friendly spar. Just a bit of nostalgic recreation, like in the old days." I did not anticipate him to probe further, but he did: "What kind of spar?" Michael, not one to evade inquiries, responded, "A duel with ancient weapons, a pastime we once cherished, and still do. I believe your namesake here, Raphael, can attest to that." "Indeed, it's merely a game to us. It's not as though we can truly harm each other." After all, we were immortal, at least that's what I had believed until recently.

The human Raphael continued, "So, with swords and shields, or perhaps even firearms?" Michael clarified, "Primarily swords, occasionally shields, and firearms seldom. Firearms don't suit the ethos of these duels." Wanting to add, I interjected, "Bows too, but not the ordinary kind. Enchanted bows that surpass any firearm in power," as I conjured one such bow to hand it to him.

The other Raphael stared in wonder, "I've never seen anything like this before." "It's astonishing how magic can augment weapons far beyond what technology can achieve.”