Chapter One Hundred and Ten - Losing is Fun

I was kind of excited for the last fight. I bounced on the side of the stage, feeling a ton lighter after I had visited the facilities. The crowds seemed just as excited as I was to get things going.

“Ladies, gentlemen, others! Welcome to the finals!”

Wild whistles and cheers filled the air and the band joined in with an upbeat fanfare that was almost lost in the sea of noise.

“In this last bout of our lowest bracket, we will see two incredible warriors pit their skill and cunning against each other in a battle that you will be telling your grandchildren about!” Zac yelled. “On the right, hailing from the deep sun-scorched hell of the Ostri Desert, a lady of the shifting sands, comes Orion Firstdaughter, the Sandsword!”

The name suggested that Orion was a girl, but it was hard to tell. The person that danced onto the stage was one of the tall Ostri people, her body covered in tan wraps broken only where thumb-thick metal rods poked into and through her arms and legs like extreme piercings. She didn’t look very girlish at first, but she was thinner, more lithe, than any of the Ostri I’d yet seen.

Her wraps had tiny, subtle flowers embroidered into its material along the edges. They didn’t look super fashionable, but were probably nice and cosy when worn in the open desert. I couldn’t imagine the metal bars pinned through her limbs were the same though.

“Hailing from lands unknown, the strangest competitor in this tournament, and one that has won some lucky folks a lot of gold, the one, the only, Broccoli Bunch!”

I hopped up onto the stage and placed my chair down next to me so that I could wave at all the people cheering. I was never one for being the centre of attention, but I could see why some people liked it.

“I have heard some about your exploits,” Orion said. Her voice was scratchy and smooth, with just the hint of an accent that was hard to place. British, maybe? “You fight strangely, but to great success. Cunning in the face of power. Respectable.”

“Ah, thank you,” I said. “I haven’t heard anything about you, I didn’t want to cheat or anything, but I’ve heard that the Ostri are really tough and honourable. I hope we have a fun spar!”

Orion nodded, her upper body dipping in a sort of almost-bow. “You are interesting, little bun. I think that were you to spend time in the desert many males would ask you to carry their seed.”

“Uh.” I looked away. “Th-thanks, I think. I’m not ready to be a mommy yet though.”

Orion stared at me, beady eyes fixed on me through her goggles. “When a male gives a female his seed pouch, it means he wishes to settle. It does not make you pregnant,” Orion explained slowly. “That comes later.”

“Oh.” I scratched my cheek. “Sorry. I guess I kind of assumed there. I should learn more about the Ostri before I put my foot in my mouth even more.”

“All in due time,” Orion said. She reached to her waist, where two swords hung from her belt in metal loops. She drew them out smoothly, the air ringing with the sound of metal sliding over metal. They were strange swords, curved, but with a heavy triangular profile, and about as long as my arm from wrist to shoulder.

“Nice sword!” I said. “Real curvy. All I have is this chair.”

Orion tilted her head to the side. “Do you want me to set my khopesh aside? It would be a more fair test of our skills.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay! As long as you don’t kill me or anything.”

Orion shifted, long limbs snapping to her sides with her swords spun around in tight arcs around her hands, ending with the left in an icepick grip and the right held out before her. “My swords will only cut that which I will them to.”

The walls went up around us and I picked up my chair. “Let’s start then!”

She was fast. That was the first thing I noted. In less time than it took to blink Orion was swooping down from above, swords swinging in from two directions.

I shoved my chair up, trying to block the path of the swords, but her swords slid through the chair as if it was carved out of butter. I stumbled back, barely avoiding the tip of one blade while the other raced in from below.

Thinking fast, I jumped backwards, planted a foot against the wall, and let myself fall. When I was nearly horizontal I shot forwards with a burst of stamina that sent me flying past Orion to roll back to my feet a few paces behind her. “Wow, that was scary!” I said.

“Indeed,” Orion said.

She raised a hand towards me. The rods in her arms started to glow a hot red and I saw the intricate form of runes glowing through the wraps over her skin.

I jumped to the side just as a burst of air exploded out ahead of Orion. The sudden wind picked me and threw me off my feet. My hat would have flown off if it wasn’t for the holes with my ears stuck through them.

I stood onto shaky legs and shook my head to clear it. “That was something,” I said.

“I didn’t want to use my fire, lightning or blood runes. It wouldn’t do to kill such a promising opponent when you’ve been nothing but cordial,” Orion said.

“That’s appreciated,” I said. “Um. How hard have you been holding back in this tournament?” I asked.

“I’m an Ostri warrior,” was Orion’s reply.

“Right.” I shot forwards and past Orion, narrowly avoiding a lazy swipe of her sword. Feet bunched before me, I landed on the wall, then shot back towards Orion’s back.

She twisted around, moving far faster than I thought possible for someone so big. One of her swords dropped and her huge hand wrapped around the leg I was trying to kick her with.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

My eyes went wide as she spun me around in the air and smacked me into the ground back-first.

I coughed, air blasted out of my lungs while little stars flashed through my vision.

“Are you well?” Orion asked as she looked down to me.

Health 127/135

Stamina 97/145

Mana 120/120

“I guess so,” I said. “Bit, ah, winded.” I rolled over onto my tummy, then pushed myself up to my feet. Rubbing the back of a hand across my mouth, I cleaned it of saliva. “You’re pretty fast.”

“You’re rather bouncy.” Orion said.

I grinned. “I don’t think I’m gonna win this one,” I said.

“Not unless you have a lot more hidden under your wraps.”

I shook my head. “Nope, but I can try!” I decided that if I was going to lose, I might as well have some fun with it. I bounced over to Orion, ducked under a quick swipe of her sword--while making sure my ears were folded back--and then hopped up to kick her in the chest. At least, that’s what I tried to do, she twisted around the kick and flicked her sword to the ground where it stuck with a twang.

What followed was a quick and sloppy exchange of blows. For every kick I tried, Orion had a simple counter, every punch was casually pushed to the side, and my one attempt to hit her with a burst of cleaning magic was deflected by a magical shield that sprouted from the runes on her arms.

I tried infusing my kicks with some mana, but all that did was push Orion into doing the same. I knew things weren’t going to end well before she slapped my kicking foot down, spun around, and rammed the heel of a boot into my gut.

I crashed onto my back for a second time. “Ow.”

Rolling over, I found myself right next to a bit of my chair, just a bit of the leg and some of the bars that made up the back of it.

I wrapped a hand around the leg and got to my feet. Swinging it around in a little flourish, I turned to face Orion, now fully armed.

Orion tugged one of her swords out of the ground.

I pouted.

“I’m afraid I can’t hold back forever. Your skills are lacking. I would suggest training a great deal more,” Orion said.

I nodded. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

“Good.”

And then she was right in my face, my stick was flung off to the side, and a fist was rocketing towards my chin.

***

I blinked awake in a room that was a whole lot darker than the arena had been. My hat was gone, and I was resting on something soft and warm. Staring up, I found myself meeting Awen’s bright blue eyes. “Did I lose?” I asked.

“Awa, a little bit?”

A snort from somewhere else in the room announced Amaryllis’ presence. “You can’t lose a little bit. It’s an all or nothing sort of thing.”

“I think she was trying to make me feel better about it,” I observed as I shifted around and got up. I’d been resting my head on Awen’s lap, and judging by the way my hair was all straightened out, she had been combing me while I slept.

“That’s a waste of time,” Amaryllis said. “I doubt many things could get you down.”

I sat on the edge of what turned out to be a little cot, then took in the room. It wasn’t an infirmary or anything like that. More of a bedroom that had been cleared of furniture. There was a little moldy smell in the air and the small window in the corner was covered up by thick drapes.

“I did just lose,” I pointed out.

She crossed her wings. “And did that make you sad?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Not really, I guess. More... minorly disappointed. But I did get to have lots of fun and I got lots of practice in!”

I could sorta feel two notifications waiting for my attention, though maybe feel wasn’t the right word. It was more like a constant reminder in the back of my mind to not forget to buy milk, but different.

“Give me a second,” I said.

Congratulations! Through repeated actions your Makeshift Weapons Proficiency skill has improved and is now eligible for rank up!

Rank C Costs One General Skill Point!

That was handy! I wasn’t sure if I would spend the point on it just yet, but the skill had turned out to be really useful a few times already.

I dismissed the notification and looked at the next one.

Congratulations! Through repeated actions your Way of the Mystic Bun skill has improved and is now eligible for rank up!

Rank E is a free rank!

“Awesome!” I cheered.

“Awa, what is it?” Awen asked.

“My new merge skill levelled up,” I said. “Way of the Mystic Bun. Ah, I’ll have to ask Booksie about it, but so far it seems like some sort of magic-using martial art. I bet it’s super cool at higher levels!”

“Oh, wow,” Awen said. She clapped happily for me, then scooted over to the edge of the cot. “Um. What do we do now?” she asked.

“Ah... I don’t know. I guess we collect our winnings and then we go out for lunch? I’m starving! Hey, wait, where’s Booksie?”

Amaryllis sighed. “Like a chick after the first shiny thing she sees,” she muttered before tossing a jingling bag onto my lap. “I got a few more gold from the mustachio’d bastard than we had initially bargained for. I suppose it’ll be enough for you to pay for our meals.”

“Miss Booksie is outside the room,” Awen answered my other question. “We can go now, if you want. Um, I think people might recognize you though. You’re quite popular now.”

“We could grab lunch to go if it bothers you,” I said.

“N-no, not unless it bothers you,” Awen said.

Amaryllis sighed. “Idiots, the both of you. Now come on. I could use a bite too.”

***