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Blind Judgment
25 - First to Fall

25 - First to Fall

“Your future is right through this door!” Lifdol exclaimed, slapping me on the back as he laughed. “When he’s done with you, come back to me. I’ll introduce you to The Pit, and what will come next.”

With that, he was gone with long strides, heading back toward his office. I lifted my hand to knock on the door and turned the handle when I heard a soft voice tell me to enter. Closing the door behind me, I walked over to the one called Grathskin, finding him by his quiet breaths.

He sat on a chair that softly creaked as he patted a bed next to him. I got the hint, took a seat, and shrugged my jacket off.

“What are you here for?” he asked me, voice almost a whisper. He ran a nervous hand over his head, the soft bristles of a buzzcut making a scratching sound. The room smelled of that unique medicinal tang, softened by the scent of clean soap.

“For my arm. And if possible, my eyes.” For some reason, I felt unnerved. Grathskin’s hand landed on my right shoulder suddenly, making me flinch. I hadn’t heard him move.

His thin fingers ran down my upper arm to find where the rest had been severed, pushing away the fabric of my shirt.

“It’s been clumsily healed,” he murmured, most likely to himself. Then, straightening up, he drew his hand away. “I can grow it back. Let me see your eyes, please.”

I pushed my hair off my forehead, and his hand came back to brush over my lowered eyelid. He lifted it with a thumb, and my lowered hand clenched into a fist.

“They’re completely gone. The injuries to the tissue have been healed nicely. I’ve never seen work like this before.” Grathskin’s voice had slightly risen, tinged with subdued excitement. He checked under my other eyelid before leaning back.

“I can’t grow back eyes. If they were only injured, it would most likely not be a problem. But my knowledge of the eye is very lacking compared to something like an arm.” He took a breath. “I know the workings of an arm inside out, from the marrow to the skin. But the eyes… they are very intricate. So many connecting points and nerves that I don’t have the confidence to rebuild. I’m sorry.”

A sort of hope I had been kindling died fast. I hadn’t let it grow too big, but I was still left with a hollow feeling in my gut. In this world, regaining sight hadn’t seemed like a pipe dream. There was still a possibility there was another way, but my chances of finding it were slim. However, I could be grateful I would get my arm back.

“You don’t need to apologize. Thank you for trying.” The air whispered as he nodded, and his hand returned to my arm. Mana surged, an amount I hadn’t felt since Davion’s bloody catacombs. It wasn’t as immense, but it was much denser and more controlled.

The tang of chemicals and lightning filled my nose, and the remains of my right arm began to burn. My skin felt like it was being seared with igniting rods, and my bones felt as if they were fracturing.

My head felt light as a bitten-off whistle escaped through my gritted teeth. I could hear blood steadily dripping onto the bed and my leg, and the scent of my own was more penetrating than when I had swam in blood. It was as if I were draining.

Grathskin had started humming, those spider-like fingers an icy grip on my exposed skin. Rats crawled under my skin, thin claws scratching to get out, oh so familiar to me. I tried to endure, but the lights in my brain went out.

***

A dull ache throbbed through my arm, a heartbeat of its own as I woke. I lay flat on the bed and began to dread standing up. It took a minute to slow the swirling mess in my brain, my thoughts fuzzy and my pain amplified.

Carefully, I pushed myself up, now with two capable arms for balance. I stretched out my hand, marveling at how seamless it felt. For a moment, it felt like it was all a dream, and I had never lost my arm or entered this strange world.

Brushing that aside, I quickly adjusted, swinging my restored arm to feel the muscles stretch. Then, I grabbed my things. Leaving the room, I let my new hand drag along the wall, appreciating the things I felt when before there had been nothing. The floor creaked as I walked, and my fingertips ran over every groove they could find on the wood. Finally, I was balanced again, and I felt almost whole.

I found my way back to Lifdol’s room, where he told me to enter before I could knock. He seemed to look at me for a beat, his demeanor changing into something much more intense, so much so that I could feel it in my skull.

“You’re a different man, my friend. Come here,” he beckoned, and I took a seat on the other side of his desk. “Now that I know you will be suitable, give me your name so I can add it to the roster.”

“Cain.”

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“No last name?” He asked me. I shook my head—I saw no reason to tell him. The scratch of a pen over paper clawed against my temples as he jotted down my info.

Lifdol leaned back in his chair, his heavy feet thudding on the desk. “Now, Cain. I run a business—a show business, to be more precise. We entertain people in The Pit. You will entertain people. You said you could fight, and you will. I will put you into the pits, and you will fight whatever I fucking tell you to fight. A majority of the profits that you earn will go directly to me, and a small amount will go to you for every night you participate. Do whatever you want with it—even give it back to me to pay your debt off quicker.

“Shows are held weekly, and if you do well, I will put you in every week. That would only be beneficial for you.”

“What will I be fighting? How long will these ‘fights’ last?” I asked.

Lifdol laughed at me. “Like I said, whatever I say you will fight. It could be an animal, or it could be another man. And despite calling it a show, fights are not staged. There is no set time. It only ends when there is a clear winner.” He paused, and it felt like he was looking for any signs of discomfort in me. “Multiple events are held in one night. Our next show is tomorrow, and—” he shuffled some papers, “—I can fit you in. The first event of the night, in fact! It will be your debut.”

Standing, he told me to follow him. We left the building, not walking too far to reach ‘The Pit’ as Lifdol told me. Big double doors swung in as we entered. We only stopped as we reached a rail, and my hands rested on the cool metal.

“This is The Pit. It’s surrounded by thousands of seats, and past the rail, it’s twenty feet deep. It runs 250 feet on all sides. It took quite a while, but we built it.” I wasn’t sure if Lifdol was explaining this stadium for my benefit or his own. Pride was evident in his voice.

“You’ll fight tomorrow, Cain. Everyone participating will be briefed an hour before the show starts. No advantages, no preparation.” He gripped my shoulder tight before I could step away. “Nothing is faked—it is all raw.” Liftdol turned my body to face the rail.

“It’s every man for himself in there. Don’t forget that.” His voice gained back the smile from the first time I met him. “I’m excited to see how you do. Don’t disappoint.”

Liftol took me back to the first building and led me to a room where I would stay. He told me that all his fighters stayed in this building free of charge. The door clicked shut as he left, and I examined the small room, noting a bed and a dresser. I ran my fingers over the latter, opening its three drawers. A small, slightly torn paper and an empty dagger sheath were all I found.

Putting those into the bottom drawer, I took out my few belongings and placed them into the top drawer. That consisted of an empty flask, gloves, and a hat from Aleya, and I put the bag she had given me on the floor beside the dresser. All the food that had weighed it down was long gone.

When I took out my knife, my pockets felt too empty—so I slipped it back in. I had unhooked my axe from the bag, and it rested against the foot of the bed. I took a seat, the mattress creaking loudly. This seemed to be the most permanent ‘home’ I would have here. There was no telling how long I would stay.

With Lifdol’s avoidance of telling me exactly how large my debt was and how many fights it would take to pay it off, I didn’t have much hope I would be out of here soon. Nevertheless, surviving was still my main objective.

I wasn’t sure how the fights would play out tomorrow, but it reminded me heavily of battles in ancient coliseums. In some ways, it seemed humans in this world stayed similar to those back on Earth. The only reassurance was that I wasn’t technically a slave. But almost.

Despite my restlessness, I slept better than I had in weeks on that rickety bed. It no longer felt as if the ground was shifting below me. The world was stable—for now.

The next day, a man I did not know directed me back to the arena, where a group gathered below the stadium seats. I figured they were the fighters of the night, and I wondered if all would make it out when it was over. Did Lifdol’s fights entail death? Was it something that was common? It was hard for me to guess the intensity of the upcoming battles when my biggest clue was Lifdol saying it only ends when there is a clear winner. Whether it was to the death, to submission, who displayed better skills, or something else, I wouldn’t know.

I stuck near the wall and joined in the waiting. The room smelled of mildew, earth, and dust. The others’ scents mixed with the smell, with sweat and skin the most prominent. Some were quiet and radiated tension; others stayed loud, chatting about the upcoming night. Most of it was also conjecture, and those that spoke seemed almost as inexperienced as me. Perhaps they were just trying to fill the empty chamber that also smelled of fear and metal with noise.

The room seemed to shrink as time passed, and I released a breath when the door finally opened as Lifdol entered. The room grew silent at his presence, and only the sounds of breaths and shuffling feet were left.

Lifdol clapped his hands and spoke. “You all know how this goes, and for those who don’t—you will. There are six events tonight. The first includes Eric and our newbie Cain; the second is with Driftskull. After that, Melane, Eskal, and Solvich are our third event; then Rath, Yutith and Weasel, and finishing off with Scorne.”

As he spoke, the room had filled with murmurs, and Lifdol raised his voice to finish. “Grab your weapon of choice and get in order. Except for Yutith and Weasel—it’s an empty-hand night for you two. Thirty zip till showtime!”

A man placed his hand on my shoulder as I made my way to the exit that led to the stadium. “Cain, right?” he tightly asked. I nodded. “Eric. You’re the only newbie tonight, so it was easy to tell.”

Eric followed me to the door, where we took our places in front of everyone else. “You nervous?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not sure what to expect,” I told him.

“No one really knows what to expect once you get out there. It’s always different, but it’s always the same,” he scoffed. “That doesn’t make much sense, does it? Just know you’ll be fighting. Always expect to shed blood—how much depends on you.”

He seemed to eye me, and I took my axe from my belt, the wood feeling rougher than it should.

“You sure you’re up to this? With—without those?” he asked, waving his hand at me. His skin smelled of nervous sweat, with a hint of dirt as his fingers came closer. The questions almost made me grin, as he hadn’t seemed like the type to tiptoe around an apparent problem.

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” I replied. This time, I lightly smiled.