Avary’s point of view

Leaning left, I narrowly evaded Shimazeal’s claws. He closed his hand as it brushed past my neck, his claws scraping over my scales painfully though not drawing blood. I knew exactly what he would do the same instant he decided, but I simply wasn’t fast enough to fully avoid his blows, let alone return them.

I lunched for him, keeping my guard up but ready to strike if an opening presented itself. Deftly, he kicked one of my feet out from under me, sending me stumbling forward. I dropped my guard to stop myself falling, but landed instead on a fierce uppercut that snapped my head back and reversed my momentum. I stepped back, intent to dodge the coming right hook but realizing I would be too slow, I turned my check and leaned away from the blow to lessen its impact.

Shimazeal was relentless. His palm slammed against my chest like a hammer, knocking the air from my lungs and making it difficult to breathe. With only a moment to recover I shuffled left, barely avoiding a straight jab.

Shimazeal lunged around after me, his hands reaching toward my tail; I dodged spinning further left, but too slow. His claws closed around the end of my tail, but I didn’t slow my rotation. Jerked forward by my momentum, his grip slipped. Seizing the opening as he continued to stumble, I completed my rotation, letting my tail slam into the bend of his legs.

Shimazeal roared with pain as my tail spikes pulled through his flesh. He dropped to his knees, as I leapt up, leaned on my forward foot and brought a fist to just face.

Shimazeal recovered faster than expected. He leaned back, letting my fist pass by his face. Then as I was pulling back, he grabbed my wrist, crushing the bones as easily as a sproot strings up his prey. Pain lanced through my limb and I gasped involuntarily, unable to stop myself. Without hesitation, Shimazeal seized my shoulder and pulled me toward himself. With savage strength, he gripped a claw tightly across my jawline pinching with two fingers and holding my chin high.

Giving a twisted grin, he leaned close to whisper directly into my ear, "blood doesn’t make you strong, welp! Don’t get cocky again.”

He’d left himself open on purpose, how could I not have seen that sooner? His mention of blood was a bit ironic considering his mother was a crescent. If not for her blood technique, I would have beaten him easily. I, however, learned nothing from my father. The dark star lord never had time for trivial things like training me—even if he did, he wouldn’t have. “Stand on your own, then I’ll acknowledge you.” Those were the words that set me on this path

Snarling and squeezing until my jaw popped, Shimazeal tossed me to the ground. He spat on me, looking down with disdain then turned to the referee and raised his arms victoriously.

Unlike Shimazeal, I had no marks, blood techniques, or innate healing abilities. The searing sting of my crushed bones wouldn’t fade anytime soon. With my face against the cold dark Crystal the pain was only growing; lifting my head only hurt worse.

While I lay writhing on the floor I could see across the gap to the crowd. I had been trying hard to forget about the spectators, but focusing on them was easier than focusing on the pain. As I looked between their faces, I confirmed what I feared. Not a single person was here for me. They were all cheering for Shimazeal, their eyes filled with elation at the sight of my pitiful defeat. I wished the arena had not been elevated, so that at least I could look at a wall instead of those laughing at my weakness.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to imagine I was somewhere else. ‘I could be anywhere,’ I told myself. I pictured myself on the shore of the Great Basin, staring out over the endless expanse. I’d never actually seen it for myself, but I’d heard if it’s beauty; how the light and dark kiss to form a beautiful sea of colors. And of the divanory—hideous monsters cloaked in a beautiful exterior. If I had won here, then maybe one day I would see it. Instead I failed again.

The pain of my injuries forced my eyes open again. The arena was turned at a different angle, allowing a view I hadn’t before. As the crystal continued to pivot, I saw a familiar face in the last row of spectators. His cold expression was the same as ever. I hadn’t seen him in three months and had no reason to believe he would be present here today, but it wasn’t me he was watching. I wasn’t surprised considering how easily Shimazeal defeated me—Father must have been very disappointed.

The woman beside my father, the crescent of Anola and Shimazeal’s mother, turned to him with a wry grin. Even without hearing, I could guess what goading words she spoke into his ear. My father didn’t respond to her provocation, instead he turned and began walking away.

The physical pain felt insignificant compared to the humiliation gnawing at me. Laughter and jeers rang in my ears over the referee as he declared Shimazeal’s victory. Ceremonial cannon fire marked the end of our duel, but my father’s retreating steps felt louder than everything else.

As I pushed myself up from the ground, all of my jumbled emotions forced themselves up from my stomach into my mouth. Forgetting my injuries, I tried using my bad arm to help hold the puke in, but as my hand met my mouth the pain was overwhelming. Reeling in pain, vomit burst from my mouth like the hot salvo of dragon's breath—only this was certainly less glorious.

The crowd’s laughter grew so intense that it shook the room.

Anger boiled my blood. Tears rolled freely down my cheeks and my mind went blank. My one good hand clenched into a fist as I stood. My jaw hung limp, sending searing pain through my face with every move I made, but I couldn’t accept defeat. “Till death.” I managed to say, the words so slurred I wasn’t sure anyone would understand me.

“He’s not down!” Someone shouted from the crowd.

Shimazael spun on his heels to face me, smirking wickedly as he advanced towards me. It was clear he had no objections. Without waiting for acknowledgment from the chief arbiter he lunged at me, extending his claws toward my neck.

I didn’t move a step or flinch, I was ready for death. Her cold arms would be more welcoming than my home. Certainly more welcoming than my father after he just witnessed me cementing my place as the weakest of the high denori. My birth was already an embarrassment to my father because I was born impure, but that didn’t stop me from spending everyday chasing after his approval. After today, I knew I’d never earn it.

When Shimazeal reached me he stopped short and froze mid-step. His eyes narrowed, he looked almost confused for a second, then rage flooded his features. “What is this?” he snarled. “Are you giving up?”

He seemed to understand. His whole body began to tremble as he shouted, “Coward!” Tendrils of black mana lashed out from his form, whipping towards me violently. Like tentacles, two wrapped around my arms, pulling them out as far as they would go and lifting me off the ground. Two more wrapped around my ankles, holding my legs apart from each other as well.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“You are no denori,” Shimazeal growled through his teeth. More black tentacles whipped me repeatedly across the jaw. “Son of the dark star my ass, you aren’t even worthy to be called scum.”

The tendrils tightened around my wrists, sending a terrible pulse shooting up both arms. My bones were crushed under the pressure forcing a scream from my lips. Only numbness remained along the backs of my forearms and shoulders as the tendrils pulled, threatening to rip me apart.

Shimazeal’s fists shot forth like lightning bolts pounding against my skin. My body was pulled so tightly by his tentacles that I didn’t even bounce with his blows. Each strike hit with lethal force, but not one of them struck anything vital. He was toying with me.

People in the audience watched with enthusiasm as their lips worked unceasingly. They uttered words I couldn’t and didn’t care to understand over the steady sound of pounding in my ears. It didn’t matter what they said; soon all my pain and frustration would come to an end.

Like a true denori, Shimazeal was ruthless, making sure not to deliver a killing blow or strike my vitals. Instead he focused on breaking bones and causing pain with each strike. I no longer felt his assault, my body was completely numb and my mind began to drift.

They say you see flashbacks of your life before death, but I didn’t. I only saw the back of my father’s head as he continued to walk away. The soft click of each step pounding like a drum. My only remaining feeling was a strangling pain that coiled around my heart, squeezing with the realization that even my death would not satisfy my father.

I wallowed in that pain, thinking how utterly pointless my life had been. Every moment I lived to please him. With every breath I drew, I hoped for his praise. I should’ve realized sooner that he never cared. Each time he looked through me with that cold gaze, I should’ve known better than to believe he might eventually smile at me.

I hated being alive and desperately wanted to die…or I thought I did, until now. A black tentacle whipped around my neck, squeezing off my access to air. Shimazeal must have decided it was time to end things.

‘No! Not yet…’ I wanted to scream, but the restrictive force around my neck was too strong.

A warm feeling welled up from deep within me, filling my body with vigor. Bright light burned out from my body and dissolved the black tentacles. I landed in a broken heap, unable to support my own weight. I didn’t care.

There was deep hunger growing inside me, scraping away any hesitation or fear. With my body in a state equivalent to a literal sack of bones, there was absolutely no way for me to win. This was all too little too late, but the hunger kept growing. It filled me with desire and urged me to survive.

My determination became as solid as the crystal floor, or perhaps it was even harder than crystal. I could read my opponents moves perfectly, but in my current state there was no way I could use that.

‘If you lack strength, then take it. If you lack skill, then make it.’ A strange voice echoed in my mind. The voice was one I had never heard before. It was gentle but firm, and although I didn’t comprehend its meaning, my body reacted to the words on instinct.

“If you lack strength,” I muttered as a mana link connected me to Shimazeal, “…take it.” I looked up to meet his eyes, seeing something unexpected in his gaze. He was confused, or maybe just shocked by my shift of will. In either case his stupor didn’t last long.

Rolling his eyes, Shimazeal lifted a hand and smiled. “Goodbye, Avary.”

Our eyes stayed locked for several seconds, then Shimazeal’s confusion returned. Knitting his brows, he glanced at his extended hand then me. “What is this?” he spat, his confidence faltering. “I thought you didn’t have a blood technique.”

I snorted, realizing he’d broken the rules to research me and my abilities. Now it made sense why he so confidently chose to be paired with me. I didn’t use it frequently, but I had revealed my connection to the dark star during selections in hopes that it would deter others from choosing me, leaving me with the chance to pick my own opponent. Shimazeal had smiled then; at that time I only thought it odd, but now I knew why.

He must have known already. I was now all but certain that he targeted me with intent to use me as a stepping stone on the road to his ambitions. Clearly Shimazeal thought this would be easy. But now he was beginning to panic. He tried using his magic again and again, but no matter what he tried nothing worked.

“What are you doing?” he whined again. “Stop it you freak!”

“If you lack skill, then make it.” I said simply.

Shimazeal looked as confused as I had been. Abandoning magic, he raised his foot above my head. With an audible pop his wrist snapped. Bone stuck out from his skin as his hand went and blood seeped from the wound. A cry if pain filled the air as he doubled over, curling his body around his injured arm.

One of my wrists mended itself, then the other as well. At the same time Shimazeal’s other wrist twisted around violently, snapping and popping repeatedly.

One by one, my wounds mended as Shimazeal suffered the same pain he caused me. I didn’t care if he suffered, but I certainly enjoyed the horror in his face as he still struggled to make sense of what was happening.

Soon our positions were reversed. I stood fully healed over the mangled heap that remained of Shimazeal. Looking down on him with a full grin, I raised a foot over his head and held it there. I had never felt so powerful before, I had never known what victory felt like. There weren’t any cheers for me, the entire arena had gone deathly silent, but the horror that forced the disfigured heap at my feet to try and crawl away was enough praise for me.

“What was it you said earlier? Blood isn’t power… or something like that.” I rolled my eyes. “Such wise words spoken by an arrogant fool.”

Mercilessly I dropped my foot on his head. Bone crumbled beneath my heel as gray goop burst out. I was already fully recovered, but even after he died, I felt there was still more Shimazeal could give me. I consumed every ounce of his vitality until nothing at all remained. Along with his physical form the connection between us vanished.

It was only then that I heard the uproar of the crowd. They still weren’t cheering or laughing, rather they were booing me. Before I might have been hurt by that, but not now. The light receded back into the depths of my being as canon fire rang over the arena. There was nothing left of Shimazeal, not even blood, so there could be denying I had won.

With sharpness and precision, the arbiter called, “Avary, come and claim your prize.”

The referee nudged me forward saying, “You won. Quit spacing out and hurry along.”

As I walked out of the arena I heard the man mumble, “at least he cleaned up the mess…but what the hell was that skill.”

I didn’t dwell on his words. After crossing the short bridge from the arena to where the arbiter sat, I turned around to face the crowd. I wasn’t surprised to find most of them angry and glaring. My father was gone but Anola’s crescent remained, her face stiffened in disgust. I wondered if she watched her son die, if there was anything left of him would she look at his failure and accept it, or would she have responded like my father.

“Avary has won his first mark today. He displayed a new power during the duel, one that has never been seen among our kind before.” The arbiter paused as he stepped in front of me and raised the ceremonial knife. “Let the dark star guide us ever forward.”

When he finished speaking the short incantation, a single ray of black light descended from a star gem in the ceiling. It landed on the edge of the raised blade, filling the knife with dark energy. When the blade could take no more, the light faded and the arbiter turned to me still holding the knife above his head.

“You are a disgrace.” He whispered as he brought the knife down into my chest. The knife pierced my flesh, releasing a flood black energy directly into my body. The arbiter’s lips began moving again, but I couldn’t hear his words over my own screams.