DE-MON

The moment he seized an arrow from his black leather quiver designed with gilded feathers, the opposing fiends began to approach him. 

"Strife…!"

Focus, Charlotte. If there is one thing I can attest to about my time with the Argonauts--it's that it made me strong. I am strong enough to make my own decisions and follow them through; that's why I chose to stand by you! Strife thought. 

By his own conscious choice, the arrow given to him by the quiver held an orange form, subtly glowing like a reclusive sun. The head of the projectile held the same star-like shape of the morning entity, sliding it back along the shining, azure string as the fiends drew closer from his east and west. 

Anything I launch, I'm able to multiply--the number depending on the size, weight, and mana signature of the object. Creating duplicates takes its toll in the form of my own mana, and the integrity of the cloned objects only lasts a brief amount of time, Strife thought.