“Glee!” The name, spoken by a female voice, echoed around the tavern. “Glee, get over here!”
“Asza?” Glee moved out quickly but clumsily, slamming his half-empty tankard on the counter. “Whassit?” They sounded worried through the slurred words.
“Glee, sober up, it’s important!”
“Wha’s goin’ on?”
She sighed. “Gamble!”
The red and black decorated humanoid moved through the crowd and accepted the coin Asza flicked to him as he removed the alcohol from Glee’s body.
“Arright, what’s happenin’, Asza?”
“It’s about Rags. He had to go back to the arena.”
Glee’s eyes widened. “Oh, no.”
They ran out the door, Asza calling after them, but they were far too fast for her. They found themself at the arena in a matter of minutes. Their clothes were smoldering, a small hole burning itself on the side of Glee’s shirt.
“Rags!”
“He’s still in the ring. We can’t get him out.”
Glee didn’t stop to see where the voice came from; they just ran, knives in their hands.
When Glee found Rags, he was sitting on the floor, staring at the body of Ikina la Farla.
“Rags!” They put a hand on Rags’ upper arm.
Rags threw their arm off, still not looking towards Glee. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Glee backed away, not from fear, but out of respect for Rags' wishes. “You… you killed her?”
“People do bad things when they’re trying to survive, Glee.”
“So this is the environment you were raised in…? You’ve seen too much too young.” Glee sounded sympathetic, maybe as if they had, too.
“I’ve done too much too young.”
Glee sat down next to him. “Fair point. Can I ask you one question?”
“...fine.”
“How did you do it?”
“Knife.”
“I mean how did you find the mental strength to do it?”
“Rage. And Griff…” Rags rubbed the rabbit’s foot clipped on his belt between his index finger and thumb.
Glee didn't say anything.
“Glee…” Rags looked towards them.
Glee gasped. He was missing an eye. They looked towards Ikina la Farla’s body and saw that in one of her eye sockets sat a butchered eye, the same bright blue as Rags’ remaining eye.
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“Oh, no, Rags— I’m killing them for making you do that, just sitting by and fucking letting her take your eye—”
“Glee.”
They didn’t hear; they kept ranting.
“Glee.” Still nothing.
“Glee!”
“What!?” Glee’s voice was still angry, and they were standing up, knife in hand.
“Glee, she didn’t take it.”
“What? So who did?”
“I did. An eye for an eye. All she’d ever wanted was to see a color other than black. She told me.”
“Rags…”
“I knew it.”
“You knew what?” asked Glee, obviously confused, the knife back in their belt.
“Nothing. It’s fine.”
As Rags looked back at Glee, they realized how much blood Rags had lost. Rags swayed and blacked out due to lack of blood.
* * *
“And how did this happen again?”
Glee’s eyes were calm, but his hands were almost itching to reach towards his knives. “Does it really matter when he’s bleeding out from three different places?! I’ll tell ya after you at least bandage him up, he’ll die! He’s losing way too much blood.”
The doctor looked through her files. “You will be staying here until he’s fixed up. I highly doubt he took a little fall out of a tree.”
She took Rags from where he lied and replaced his soaked bandages. She rolled him out to an operating room and began her work.
Asza, who’d been leaning against the wall, said, “Hmph. I could’ve helped, Glee.”
“But would you have?”
Asza was silent out of shock.
Glee gave a scoff-like noise of disgust.
A whisper: “yes.”
“What?” Glee turned back to her, glaring.
“Yes. I would’ve helped. I may not be the nicest person on earth, but I wouldn’t leave someone to die. But you, Glee? You’re merciless the moment someone does something ‘wrong.’”
Glee couldn’t find anything to say in response.
* * *
When Dr. Yarrow entered the room, Glee stood up rapidly, knocking over the chair they were sitting in. “Is he ok?”
“He will be. He’s lost an arm and he has a few broken ribs, but he’ll be fine.”
Asza and Glee both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now,” said the doctor, sitting down, “You’re going to tell me how this happened.”
Glee began. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. You recognize the kid?”
“No.”
“Y’know the name Rags?”
“No.”
Glee turned to Asza for help, who took a deep breath and began to explain who Rags was.
When she’d finished, Dr. Yarrow nodded; she was pinching the bridge of her nose like she had a headache. “So you’re implying he fought some other ‘arena legend’ and won, but had these injuries? You’d think the Arena would have its own infirmary.”
Glee blinked—they hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe they do, I wouldn’t know.”
“That’s beside the point. So how exactly did this happen?”
“I dunno all the details. Seemed like he fought this absolute legend—I did some digging while you were doing whatever the hell it is you were doing—named Ikina la Farla who’s never even been touched in the arena. Seems to me like Rags did the impossible and killed her, but nearly got killed in the process.”
“Regarding the eye, how did that happen? Is it a hobby for her to take someone’s eye as a souvenir?”
Asza was appalled and angry, not by the doctor’s question, but by her casual tone. “No,” she shot back shortly, before Glee could answer. “He took it out himself because he could hear her speak. She told him she’d only wanted to see one color other than black in her life.”
Dr. Yarrow nodded, making a mark on her clipboard.