"Trier is out of bounds! McGinnis wins!"

Jacob forgot the breath he was holding and the tension in the air and surged up out of his seat and cheered.

"Yes!"

The crowd roared. Camilla and Grace and Archie all cheered.

"Holy crap, I thought he was done for," Archie said.

Blake stood over Trier in his ragged uniform and raised his hand to the sky.

Yes! Jacob thought. Elation poured through him.

Then Blake toppled to the ground.

Jacob's eyes widened.

Grace gasped.

Vice-President Leslie emerged from somewhere in the stands, broke through the magical barrier surrounding the arena, and landed next to Blake. She bent down over Blake, said something into a walkie talkie, then waved to one of the tunnels.

"McGinnis has passed out, but is breathing," The announcer's voice filled the stadium.

A man and a woman in the grey uniforms of the tournament aides ran out of the tunnel, carrying a stretcher between them. They bent over Blake, lifted him gently onto it, strapped him in, and ran him back into the tunnel.

"Will he be okay?" Jacob asked as they disappeared.

"They have a triage set up in the stadium with healers," Camilla said. "He should be fine."

"He took a lot of hits but I doubt that's the worst we'll see in the tournament," Archie said. "You guys remember that kid who lost his arm a couple years ago? Giang, or something?"

"Someone lost their arm?" Jacob asked, horrified.

"Yeah, shit is real," Archie said. "But that's an extreme example. You're DQ'd if you use lethal force, you know."

Jacob knew. He'd read it online the night before. But what constituted lethal force? Some spells that might kill you would only hurt you if you had a strong enough resilience going.

In the arena, VP Leslie was walking a dejected Trier out into the tunnel.

"The next match will be coming up shortly while we reset the arena."

Professor Idlewild emerged from the tunnel. Decomposition magic washed out from her. The arena's ground undulated, then smoothed. Trier's shelves and all the little indents and impacts returned to one smooth surface.

Professor Michaelson followed a moment later. He waved his hands, and the invisible wards that circled the arena shimmered.

"One hell of a way to start the tourney," Archie chuckled. "What did you all think?"

"I think Trier relied too much on his spells," Camilla said.

"You think he should have grappled with Blake? Not sure he could cast strength."

"Still, he should have moved around more. Made it harder for Blake to catch him," Camilla said.

Jacob nodded. Trier's spells had been tight, and efficient from what he could tell. And being able to cast two separate offensive spells consistently under pressure this early in the term was impressive for someone seeded so low. But despite that ability, he had seemed a little... out of place? Unsure of himself? Jacob would bet Trier had never been in a fight before.

"I think he was probably too worried about Blake's abilities and played it too cautious," Jacob said. "He was thinking too much."

"But you should be strategizing, shouldn't you?" Archie said.

"Of course. And I think he did to start, but once Blake got close, got behind that little shelf, I think he probably froze up."

"No combat experience," Camilla said.

Jacob shared a look with her. She smiled wistfully. The announcer called out the five-minute warning for the next match. Jacob sat back in his seat. If anything, Blake's match had shown that how you fought was more important than your actual ability.

"Trier was the better mage," Jacob said. "but Blake was the better fighter."

"Interesting way to put it," Archie said. "I guess Blake kind of didn't have a choice in what he could do, even when Trier showed both spells, so he was forced to stick with his initial gameplan. And you say Trier got caught up thinking too much. The curse of too many options."

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Jacob frowned. Jimmy had said mages stuck to a few spells so they could focus on making them strong, but was what Archie said another reason? To streamline their decision making? He guessed it worked both ways. It might limit your options, but maybe that was a good thing.

Grace leaned around Camilla. "Jacob, do you think we should go check on Blake?"

Jacob perked up. "Are we allowed?"

Grace nodded. "He should have been seen by a nurse by now."

Jacob hadn't even thought about it. He stood before he even realized what he was doing. "Who's match is next?"

"80th vs 49th," Archie said.

So, no one Jacob would have to worry about. He cursed himself. He couldn't believe he could have gone and checked on Blake and he'd been sitting here talking about tactics.

"Yeah, let's go," He slid past Archie and out into the aisle.

"But we'll miss the next match!" Archie said.

"There'll be plenty more, Archie," Grace said, shuffling out into the aisle. "Your friend is probably really hurt."

"You're right," Archie said.

"Hey, you guys going to check on McGinnis?" Tobi Yengue called out from a few rows down.

"Yes," Jacob said.

"Tell him I said congrats!"

"Okay!"

The four of them made their way down the aisle and into the stadium's halls. Jacob, who'd led the way to start, quickly fell behind Grace, who seemed to know where to go, even though all the hallways looked the same. They came to an area with some offices and locker rooms and the triage.

The triage was a large classroom that had been refurnished with several hospital beds, curtains and IVs. A woman in a tight-fitted white uniform, almost like a nurse save for the gold trim along the cuffs and lapels and hem of the dress stopped them when they entered.

"We're here to see Blake McGinnis," Grace said. "Is he awake?"

The healer folded her arms, narrowed her eyes, then sighed. "He's awake. But-"

"Grace?" A voice called from the back.

They hustled by the protesting healer. Blake was in the last bed, dressed in a hospital robe and propped up in a sitting position. His arms lay on his lap. Bandages were wrapped around them up to his elbows. His face lit up as he saw them.

Jacob couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Great win, man. You were awesome."

Blake smiled.

"Your arms!" Grace gasped.

Blake lifted them and inspected the bandages as if he'd never seen them before. "Yeah. Fractured both of them. Sister Megan set them right, though. Shouldn't be too long to heal. Had some damage to my side too that she healed," He shifted, showing them bandages wrapped around his midsection.

"Are you gonna be here for the rest of the day?"

Blake shrugged. "Sister Megan says they're going to take me over to the campus clinic for an MRI, make sure I don't have head trauma. I'll be there for the night, but don't worry, I'll be watching the stream."

"Well, we're glad you're okay," Camilla said.

"That was one hell of a fight," Archie said.

"Thanks."

"What was it like?" Grace asked eagerly.

"Okay, that's enough," Sister Megan appeared behind them. "Mr McGinnis needs to rest. You can all visit him later at the clinic."

"Thanks for coming to check on me," Blake said.

"We'll let you know what happens in the next couple matches!" Grace said.

They let Sister Megan herd them towards the door.

"Wait," Blake said. "Jacob, could I talk to you for a moment?"

Jacob glanced at Sister Megan. She sighed aggressively and nodded. "Be quick."

"I'll catch you guys back upstairs," Jacob said.

Camilla, Archie, and Grace left.

Jacob went back over to Blake's bed.

"I have to thank you," Blake said. "You were right, about not thinking. Without that advice, I would have lost."

Jacob fumbled for something to say. "Anytime, man. It was all you, anyway."

Blake took a deep breath. "Don't tell the others yet, but, I'm DQ'd for my next match."

"Wait, what?"

"My arms won't have healed by next weekend, even with the magical healing Sister Megan gave me. They're not letting me fight."

"That's bullshit," Jacob said.

Blake sighed. "I know, but what can I do?"

Jacob looked at his friend, but Blake was staring up at the ceiling. Christ, to go through all that, just to be disqualified. To not even get a chance to keep going.

"But I won," Blake sniffed. Then he laughed and tried to wipe his eyes with his bandaged arm. "Man, I'm so lame, crying. Sorry, man."

"It's all good," Jacob said.

"I told you about my dad and my sisters losing. I just can't believe it. It's thanks to you, man. All that training and the advice beforehand," sniff, "I know it doesn't seem like much to you, but I don't know if I can ever repay you."

Jacob shifted his hands in his pockets. "You don't need to repay me, man."

A moment of silence passed between them. Something had been bothering Jacob since the fight. Something that hadn't clicked with the rest of what had happened.

"Can I ask you something?" Jacob said.

Blake nodded.

"What happened when you were on the ground near the end there? When Trier was shooting you? I gotta be honest man, I thought you were done."

Blake was silent so long Jacob wasn't sure he'd heard him.

"I'm not entirely sure," Blake said, finally. "I realized that I had more in me, that I wasn't working hard enough. Remember that stuff I told you about my dad?"

"Yeah."

"That stuff. Motivation, I guess. To push through the pain. That's what happened," Blake laughed. "I said to myself that 'they're gonna have to wheel me out of here on a stretcher.' I know that sounds fucked, but, it worked. And it was true."

Jacob nodded. "Okay, thanks. I was curious."

"Anything, man," Blake pushed himself up. "I'd give you props but I don't think it would be good for my arms. I think I'm gonna call my family now. Thanks again."

Jacob nodded. "I'll see ya later."

He left Blake in the triage and made his way back up to the arena, mind whirling. Christ, but those injuries. That was worse than anything he'd have expected. But was it out of the question? They were fighting with magic. Look what had happened in the fight against the rogue mage. Magic was deadly. But still. He didn't want to get injured as badly as Blake. He couldn't imagine what it had taken for him to push himself through all those attacks, then in that final rush on Trier, get up and run, knowing how injured you could get, deliberately fracturing both your forearms. Crazy son-of-a-bitch.

Would Jacob do that, just to win a match?

He shuddered. He didn't think so. In fact, if he'd been in that same position there on the ground, he would have given up. He knew that.

So, what was the difference between them? Blake had said that he would be the first person in his family to win a match, and all that other stuff about his father failing to become a Ranger. Was that it? Was that the whole difference? Was that something that could make you intentionally fracture both arms just to win a tournament match?

But what would Jacob do if he found himself in that situation? Just lose? Lose because he didn't have that same motivation? Lose because there was nothing that made it so important to him?