Omen: 6, 9

"Are you feeling lucky?" Jurot asked.

"Not that kind of luck," Adam replied, glancing aside to Jaygak. "What about you?"

Jaygak shrugged her shoulders, staring down at her potato, the steam rising from the slit she had cut through. "Just fine."

Adam inhaled deeply. Today was his last fight, and it was Jaygak’s last fight too. Adam and Adda were currently undefeated, just like Jurot and Kitool, and they were each contenders for first place. Jaygak had lost twice, once to Adda, once to Adam. The King’s Sword’s daughter, Sir Roseia, had also lost twice, once to himself, once to Adda. If Jaygak managed to beat Roseia, then she would manage to gain, as the Grand Duchess had promised, second place.

‘Jaygak, please.’ Adam sighed. ‘What am I talking about? Jaygak’s going to win, and if she doesn’t, then it means her weapon wasn’t good enough to keep up with Roseia. She’s…’ Adam understood the maths behind Sir Roseia and Jaygak, and though he didn’t want to admit it, not only did the young lady have a better Defence, she also had a better offensive capabilities.

‘If only we were three Levels higher…’

Adam approached the arena, the damp scent of the snow on the stone filling his lungs, waking him up. His morning bath had been tense, but thankfully hot enough to warm his bones during nightval. ‘The cold in the North really is different.’

Adam and the others made their way to a section of seats, sitting among the crowd. Somehow, Adam, Jurot, and Kitool, each had their fights during the evening, whilst Jaygak’s was during the morning.

Jurot and Kitool didn’t need to think about the Grand Duchess’ influence, since it was great enough for them to assume it. To display some of the best fights during the evening was pretty normal for the masses, but the nobles preferred morning fights, so typically the fights would be mixed. However, today, all the best fights were during the evening.

“How much are you betting?” Adam asked.

“A hundred gold,” Jurot replied, with Kitool nodding.

“Only a hundred?” Lucy asked.

“It is a good amount to bet,” Jurot said.

“I’ll bet a hundred too,” Lucy said, Mara bowing her head slightly.

‘How much should I bet?’ Adam thought. ‘I did lose two thousand gold.’

‘A hundred gold?’ the Marshal of East Port thought, reaching up to scratch the side of his jaw. ‘The rich really live different lives.’ He, who also held hundreds of gold, still remembered the days of his youth.

Jaygak sat within the cold room, along with the other arena’s fighters, each of different segments while their opponents remained elsewhere. She was glad she could be alone from the rest of the group. She held her blade tight in hand, feeling the great magic within. She understood the woman used a greater blade than her own, until Jaygak called forth greater magics within, and that her armour was magical, Greater, meaning their Defence was roughly similar.

“Nervous?” Sir Rory asked, daring to approach the Iyrmen, who was deep in thought.

“No,” Jaygak replied, unsure if she was telling the truth.

“You defeated me,” Rory said. “I’m certain you’ll have a good showing.’

Jaygak smiled. “A good showing, I have no doubt.” Jaygak rested her forearm between her hilt and waist. “I am going to place in the top four whether I win or lose. My cousin will be delighted of the news, she’ll reach over to pat me, tell me that I did good. I can already see my brother’s face light up upon hearing my placing, I’ll see the pride in his eyes. My sisters, they’re too young, but they’ll be swept away by the air around them.”

Rory slowly nodded his head. “Is that why you fight?”

“I am an Iyrman,” Jaygak replied, the only answer she could give to Rory. “If I win or lose, my cousins and my siblings will all hold only pride for me. My niece, Jirot…” Jaygak let out a long sigh. “If I lose, she will bully me for it.”

Rory narrowed his eyes slightly. He had heard that the Iyr had a special relationship with its children, but to see the young Iyrman make such a face, he had no idea they adored their children so much. ‘War is one thing, but affection is another.’

“I will not be able to retreat from her words if I lose,” Jaygak said, donning her helmet, while one of the workers stepped into the room.

“Jaygak! You’re fighting next!”

“Then, for your own sake, win,” Rory said.

Jaygak bowed her head and stepped out into her quadrant, raising her blade into the air. Her heart beat wildly, but soon she blocked out everything. She blocked out the cheering. She blocked out the jeering. She blocked out the throbbing within her ears. She even blocked out the presence of the King’s Sword’s daughter, who was so powerful, only the likes of Adam and an Adda wielding such a great blade, could defeat her.

‘I am Jay of the Gak family.’ She repeated the names of the Gaks who had gone through misfortune, from Jogak and Gangak, those who held the same name as her father and grandaunt, to even the young woman who she had been named after.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

‘Will I die for defeating her?’ Jaygak thought, a small smile upon her face. ‘It’s not a duel to the death, and…’ She thought of the trio whose eyes were no doubt glued to her.

“Two thousand gold.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, two thousand gold,” Adam repeated. “Two thousand on our Jaygak.”

“Two thousand?” the worker glanced between him and the Iyrmen, trying to recall if she was informed of a big better like Adam. There was a vague recollection, but she wasn’t sure.

“One thousand on Jaygak,” Jurot said.

“Me too,” Kitool said.

‘I thought you said a hundred,’ Lucy thought. “I’ll keep with a hundred, since I shouldn’t go around betting too much.” Lucy could feel the awkwardness fill her. “Someone needs to teach your kids not to bet too much.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I could feel it.”

Adam smiled slightly, before his eyes returned back to Jaygak, who stood frozen, while Sir Roseia also gathered herself. ‘Come on, Jaygak. Can you imagine it? How many people can say something like that?’

Jaygak refused to imagine it. She was completely focused in her meditation, before she finally donned her shield, and held her blade out towards Sir Roseia. ‘One swing. Just one swing.’

A silence fell upon the air. A song broke the silence. A song of death as steel struck steel.

Sir Roseia leapt forward to set the pace, with Jaygak upon the back foot, raising her shield, scratched and dented throughout the tournament, each mark holding its own story. Jaygak inhaled sharply, letting out soft breaths, cautious of the magical sword which brimmed with magic, not just the great magic it held from its enchantment, but the great magic the woman had sworn into the blade, the thunder threatening to spill out. Thankfully the blade had only managed to glance off Jaygak’s shoulder and off of her shield.

‘One swing!’ Jaygak thought, swinging her blade forward. It was not a wild swing, not like those of the Rot family. The Gak’s family blade moved more efficiently, like that staves of the Ool family.

Deadly.

Efficient.

Then, as an arrow let loose after being under tension for too long, Jaygak rained down blow after blow, causing even Sir Roseia to step back with alarm. She had rarely felt such an explosive force before, as the glowing blade battered against her own, and even against her fists as Jaygak slammed her magical blade, almost like a hammer, against her.

“I shouldn’t have underestimated you,” Sir Roseia said, feeling the magic fade from her blade, before she chanted once more, the light spinning around her blade once more, clashing with the young woman. As they continued to clash, Roseia couldn’t find a clean blow against the Iyrman, while Jaygak could barely fend off the terrifying blade of the knight before her.

The clash of steel continued to ring within the air, the eyes of the crowd glued to the vicious fight, and fight in which many had bet upon the knight, and somehow, the Iyrman had managed to force her to use all her might.

This fight imprinted deep within their minds, as fights of the Iyrmen tended to do, but this time it was not that of the Rot, Jin, or Kan family. This time, it was the blade of the Gaks.

‘One swing,’ Jaygak thought. ‘One swing at a time!’

The thunder exploded against the woman’s stomach, rocking through her entire body, the flash of holy magics tearing through her. It was blow so strong, it would have knocked an Expert completely unconscious. Sir Roseia stepped forward, ready to follow the Iyrman’s tumbling body, but as she darted forward, her helmet struck Jaygak’s, as the young Iyrman, planting her feet firmly into the earth, like the roots of a tree, slammed her head forward against the knight’s.

“One swing,” Jaygak gasped, feeling the ache through her body.

It had been many years ago, when she was still so small, not quite as small as her troublesome niece, that Gangak held the girl upon her lap. She remembered the scent of the smoke, the feeling of the warmth of the woman’s cheek against her own, and the rough, wrinkled hair running through her hair.

‘Step forward, Jaygak, and swing your blade.’

‘Walking?’ Jaygak had asked.

‘Do you know how to kill a dragon?’ Gangak had asked.

‘One swing at a time.’

‘That’s right. So step forward, and swing, one swing at a time, and you will win.’

‘I am too weak, mamo, too weak.’

‘You are an Iyrman, Jaygak. If you are weak, then you must take more steps, and you must swing your blade more.’

‘How much?’

‘More than a hundred times.’

‘How much is that?’

‘More than ten tens.’

‘Okay, mamo. I will do it.’

‘Would you like a smoke of my pipe?’

‘You cannot trick me, mamo! I am not allowed to.’

‘You are not allowed to hide my sword, but you always hide my sword too?’

‘I think mama is calling me,’ Jaygak had said, quickly trying to retreat away.

Even all those years ago, she had felt the same as Taygak, that she was too weak.

Now?

She had defeated Sir Rory of the Golden Spears.

She had defeated Sir Eliza of the Snow Storm.

She had remained near undefeated, save for the two ridiculous figures. One, a Princess of the North, and the other a fool. Just like the Princess, this figure, the King’s Sword’s daughter, had the strength and the background to defeat Jaygak.

Even so, Jaygak refused.

She couldn’t step back, not even as the thunder rumbled through her, causing her to spit up blood into her helmet.

“One swing,” Jaygak panted.

She stepped forward and swung once towards the stumbling knight.

Her blade did not strike as hard as it had previously, but it struck with enough force to cause the knight to drop her blade. The magical sword Sir Roseia used slipped out of her grasp, clanging down beside her as she fell to the earth. In the North, it was not right to strike a figure who had been disarmed, nor one who had fallen and could still get up.

Jaygak waited.

And waited.

Her body tensed up at the sound, like that of the thunderous explosion which threatened to drop her, but it was not from the great magic of the knight, but the cheering of the crowd. Her entire body filled with an electricity as her heavy arms exploded upwards into the air, the tears dropping down her cheeks. She couldn’t pick out the words from a particular young man, but it was fine, since it was no doubt cringe.

“That’s our Jaygak! If Jaygak has ten thousand fans, I am among them! If Jaygak has one fan, it is me! If Jaygak has no fans, then I am dead! Fuck yeah!”

It was a short while later when Adam almost tackled Jaygak, embracing her tight. “Jaygak! You did it! You did it!”

“Why are you so surprised?” Jaygak asked, wincing as the pain within her body still rocked through her.

“Damn it, Jaygak. Damn it!” Adam held her in a bear hung, swinging her from side to side, howling with laughter. “You did it, damn it!”

“Let me go before I beat you,” Jaygak groaned, feeling the ache within her body flood through her. “You should prepare for your own fight.”

“I’m prepared,” Adam said, finally dropping her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Keep my seat warm, won’t you?”

Jaygak smiled. She pushed him away lightly, before glancing towards Jurot and Kitool, who clasped her forearm.

“It was a good fight,” Jurot said, nodding his head.

“Yes,” Jaygak replied, nodding her head back.

“Congratulations on your placing,” Kitool said, shaking her forearm, holding it for a moment longer.

Jaygak smiled, holding a hint of sadness. “You need to earn first place too.”

“Make sure you bet on each of us, alright? Ah, well, except me,” Adam said, wondering if it was right to bet on him, or if they could get away with it. “Make sure you bet for me too, alright?”

“I’ll definitely bet on the victors,” Jaygak teased.