“Gan, tomorrow you will be back on the march.”
Huh? Back there? Back to that hell hole? I spin around but no one is there. It is just me – footsteps. A door opens. Triah walks in and I can feel his sinking sadness from where I am.
“Gan, tomorrow you will be back on the march.”
“So I heard.”
Triah looks confused, “Who told you? I was just told mere moments ago and came here immediately.” He sounds confused as well. Figures.
“Don’t worry about it-”
“No, I am worried about it! How could you have heard?”
“Just… don’t worry. It was just a silly passing comment.” Triah takes a few steps closer to me.
“Gan, I am worried about you. Please, tell me what’s going on. Please, explain!”
“Well, I-”
Footsteps. A door opens. Triah walks in and I can feel his sinking sadness from where I am. What the fuck?
“Gan, tomorrow you will be back on the march.”
“Okay, now you are just fucking with me.”
“What do you mean by that? I just-”
“You just learned about it a few moments ago and came immediately here, huh? Is that what you are about to say? You are worried about me, right? You want to know what is going on?”
“I mean… yes. Not quite what I was thinking but should I be worried about you? Why are you so angry with me? I just came in…”
Futures. So many futures simultaneously flash before my eyes that I cannot pull truth from fiction, and yet this feels right. There is a rhyme and reason to these futures – a pattern to insanity. A percentage of outcomes that could occur all laid out before me, playing out in random orders and times, yet one thing remains. Each one is dictated by me. If I change my breathing pattern, the futures all change in a blur of colour and morphing shape. I can hear this conversation playing out a million times over – I can hear every outcome that I could possibly say and so all I must do is choose the right one.
“…and so that is what happened. Are you listening, Gan?”
“Yes, yes. Sorry, I just need a moment to think. Going to the march is… it is tough for me. That place is cursed, and I don’t know if I can survive another march as I am. Could you please give me five minutes alone and then come back? I will have something you can report back with.”
Triah nods and leaves the room. I close my eyes, letting the futures wash over my mind. There must be a way to leave the march. There must be a way to be free from a death sentence that I should not be on. I can see myself fighting back – no, even if I manage to take out Triah, in almost every future, I am captured, tried, and with a dreg collar this time, return to the march. I could run out the door and escape but… in almost all of the futures I am captured and once again, return with the dreg collar to serve my time on the march. Pretending to be sick? That does not work with a doctor reporting my lies – there are three ways I can escape. Firstly, I can return to the march, and in the next location I could potentially escape from. Low chance but one non the less. I could kill myself – I would never return to the march but that is and will always be the absolute last resort. No, there is one option that offers me a high chance of freedom now. I haven’t even heard about this and yet, it makes sense. In the plane of pleasure, the pleasure of fights is known and respected. That is my avenue. My single line out of here. Footsteps. The door opens.
“Gan, tomorrow you will be back on the march.”
“Triah, my friend, I wish to enact the pleasure of combat before I return to the march.”
“You… you what?”
“It is as I said, I wish to enact the pleasure of combat. I wish to fight until I cannot fight anymore. I wish to give to the plane through my glorious combat and thus would like to delay my march until the point in which I have completed the pleasure of combat.”
“I… I have no idea what you are talking about, Gan. I will be right back.”
Time passes, and then the door opens. A captain comes in with crossed arms.
“What is this about enacting the pleasure of combat?”
“You see, captain, as a free man on the plane of pleasure, I wish to fight a single battle before I go on the march. I wish to enjoy the pleasure of combat before I am sent away – surely you won’t deny my wish?”
The captain stares at me, bewildered “You know… you know what you are asking for, right?”
I nod “Yes, a fight. A fight potentially to the death in a gladiatorial arena. A fight with fighters who get pleasure from violence, and an audience who revels in it. I know exactly what I am asking.”
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“If you do… why?”
“I merely wish to enjoy the pleasure of one final battle. If you would need it, we can enact on the pleasure of combat in a non-deadly battle. I would get pleasure from any form of combat.”
“Fine. You must leave tomorrow, so how about today?”
“Today would be perfect, so long as I have someone to fight.”
“Very well, you shall have a fight. The only rule is that no one can kill the other and it shall end when the person taps. I will take you to the arenas myself in two hours. Please prepare for combat until then.” The captain walks away. I cannot hold back my smile anymore.
“How… how did you know about that, Gan?”
“Triah, I know many things although this is something I most certainly did not. I saw it though – I saw myself in glorious combat and knew that I needed just one last fight before I went back to the march. Back to Langnet’s road.”
“We could have sparred, no?”
“We can, if you would like to be my fighting partner in the arena.”
Triah laughs and shakes his head “I am quite alright, I am in a profession that in many respects revolves around fighting, but I would much rather talk things out.”
Yes… exactly what I foresaw.
“Well, then why don’t you cheer on for me here? I will be back before you know it.”
Triah nods and sighs “I will get you some better clothes and food before you hop in the arena. Probably a good idea to eat it now than waiting and going into a battle starving.”
I nod and Triah leaves. Perfect, this is exactly what I need. The plan is simple – I will never fight.
Time passes. Food comes and is consumed. Triah and I chat a bit. We laugh. I leave with the captain. We walk silently for a while before coming upon a massive arena. I stop outside for a few seconds and rub my eyes. I did not like that opponent, but now there is a better one on the horizon for the most part. We walk inside of the arena and I am guided to a waiting room. I can see it; in a few moments, the one I am meant to fight will come in to shake on terms. A quick, clean fight. They will love the fight and most likely, it will be someone who I can easily beat, but that is not the point. If I win, that is it. I am back to the march – no, the future that has now been altered slightly removed the easy win. Instead, I will have – a monster of a man walks into the room. His body a mass of muscles that tests his skin's very elasticity. It looks like his bicep is about to tear through his skin as he instinctively tenses it.
“Gan, you will be fighting the Macebringer. Macebringer, you will be fighting Gan Galeweaver-” The large man nods excitedly. He is not dumb by any means, but very… fearful in many regards.
“I will accept any and all terms that Gan Galeweaver might have.” The Macebringer reaches his hand out to shake mine.
I smile “I will – but before I do, if I might say-” I lean close to him before shaking, “-I have come from Langnet’s road, and I saw Gan’lia Galestrider walking around, asking about a certain Chz Cliffclimber.” The Macebringer – no, the criminal who betrayed Gan’lia Galestrider’s face goes pale. “If I return, she might find me and I'll be forced to explain why I smell like one who betrayed her. Then I will have to spill the beans and she’ll be coming for you.”
“Lies… lies!”
“Ah, well if you don’t believe me, do not worry yourself!” I lean back and raise a hand confidently “Let us shake on the terms, Macebringer.”
The Macebringer’s hand drops to his side. He stares at me, bewildered. He sighs, “I cannot fight this one for pleasure… right now. I can only agree to this battle…” His mind is going a million miles an hour. I have no idea who this Gan’lia Galestrider is, but that name strikes absolute terror into the Macebringer. It is his true weakness, and he will delay my return with everything he has now. “…but Gan must be the same weight as me! And he must train a bit beforehand – how can we have a pleasurable fight if I run him over – I mean look at him! I can barely see a muscle! It is only fair for both of our pleasures – and the audiences! How about 3 weeks? Deal?” He raises his hand and before the captain can say a word, I shake it “Deal!”
He turns and walks away. I turn to face the captain who is furious “Gan! You MUST return to the march tomorrow. It has been ordered!”
“Yes, but the fight takes priority, or you would be stripping me, the Macebringer, and the audience the absolute pleasure of watching a truly great fight.”
“I… I don’t know how you learned about this law but for now, you are untouchable. Until the fight. Then you will return.”
I smile “I am so sorry for the issues that have occurred from this action. Is there not someone you can send in my place? I have not been convicted and sentenced to the march, so it would only be right for me to act like this now before I must return.”
“No, Gan Galeweaver, that is where you are wrong. You have been sentenced to the march.”
What? Why did I not see this future? It must have washed past me – no, when I did something different, did this occur? Is this reality?
“You have until your sentence is officially confirmed to stall. You do not understand what is on the line, and what you did when you killed Fa Fumerunner.”
“I… I know what I did was wrong, which is why I am willing to fix it – willing to do the march but all I ask is that I get to have a fight beforehand. A fight where it can be in front of an audience – a fight that I can enjoy. Please, let me experience this pleasure one last time before I return to the monsters and horrors of the road.”
“I cannot stop the sentence, but I can let you train for the next 3 weeks. Then, there will be a proper battle. I don’t know what you did – the Macebringer has, on many occasions, stated that he enjoys beating up weaklings. I… I have no idea what is going on but… we shall wait.”
“Until I am locked in dreg, I am a free man.”
The captain sighs “Indeed. You are free for now, so how would you like to train?”
“I will need a better place to stay that is close to a nice park. I have my own training to do. Do not worry, I will not lose to the Macebringer.”
The captain turns and walks off. I follow them. Yes… yes! It has all worked out to a near tee. A slight misstep – how can I follow every possible outcome if there are so many? When I speak, I just say the words which get me the best response on average, and it is working perfectly. Hear me, Watcher – this curse will become my greatest blessing! When I defeat the Macebringer, he will request a rematch. I will accept. I will stall and keep stalling until another does the march! I can even escape without too much of a hassle now – I can tell where guards will be and what to say.
I thought this was a curse, but it is truly a blessing. I can feel myself go through all manners of torture, but that matters not. I am free to live a glorious life where I don’t even need to think, just react, and say the right words to delay my fate.
“We are here. Good luck, Gan Galeweaver.”
I walk into a beautiful room. There is a table with four seats, a small empty bookshelf, a toilet, and a small room to the side completely stuffed with a bed. This is perfection – wait, there is something on the bed. Something small and back. I did not foresee this. It seems I cannot escape you.
Savra.