The game grows more perilous by the second. There are Jhori spies lurking in every shadow, and more players cast their lot in every day. I will need to move my pieces in just such a manner if I want to spare my family from the threat that looms on the horizon. Even if it means I must sacrifice every pawn to ensure that we come out victorious.
* Journal of Versa Pyre
Pyra
The king was slumped back on his golden throne outlined with gems of ruby and sapphire, but the ice in his glass continued to stir with nervous anticipation. He took another deep drink as he awaited the arrival of his guests.
“Put that down,” Versa Pyre insisted. She kept her voice low so only the king could hear her. “Ten warships were more than what was needed. A hundred would have made a damn strong statement. Bringing a thousand? This is completely unprecedented.”
Versa reached for the glass, but King Jrax Ferno quickly brought it up to his lips and finished what was left. He wiped his unkempt beard with his arm after giving a satisfying sigh. The liquid warmed his body as it made its way down. A small wave of euphoria followed shortly after.
He looked at the glass that now only contained crushed ice. His reflection stretched across its side. Could that really be him? He pulled at one of his long dreadlocks. His hair hadn’t been cared for in years. And his face. He had always been thin, but his cheeks and eyes were now sunken in. Giving him the gaunt look of someone on death’s door.
In his mind’s eye he still saw the warrior prince he had been in his youth. The only child of King Drojax born with black hair. Which suited him since he had always lived in the shadow of his older brother.
“Do you suppose they know?” Jrax asked his sister in a gruff voice.
“If they ‘knew’, we would already be dead,” replied Versa. “I would not hazard to guess what, but I suspect this visitation is in regard to something other than our treasonous endeavors.”
The throne sat twenty paces from the large double door entrance to the room. Red marble pillars lined both sides of the path to the throne. To the right the wall was covered with stained glass murals of epic battles that had transpired in the past. To the left the wall could retract into the ceiling as it was today. Outside was a large balcony that was made into the king’s hangar. His royal starship was parked in its usual spot but landing next to it was the unfamiliar ship that transported the New Jhori Councilors.
The red skies of Pyra were filled with puffy white clouds dotted by enormous warships that circled around its capital city like hungry vultures who could smell death oncoming. The streets of the city were filled with anxious Pyrans. Several of whom were using whatever device or tool they could find to get a better view of what was happening at the king’s palace.
The door to the starship opened and three sharply dressed people escorted by New Jhori agents, personal guards, and high-ranking members of the militia made their way to the throne.
As they got closer, Jrax noticed that every single agent escorting the councilors was a Pyran warrior. If a thousand warships that he was completely powerless to defend against were not humiliating enough, forcing his own people to aid in the intrusion of their homeworld certainly was.
“King Jrax Ferno,” said Councilor Laski as she came within a few paces of the throne, “thank you for receiving us on such short notice.”
“The pleasure is all ours I can assure you,” said Versa.
Laski grinned. The two horns that protruded from her forehead were brown, ridged, and came to sharp tips. Short orange hair protruded from her sleeves and collar, but her face was pale and bare aside from the intricately colored eyeshadow she wore. “And might I add that your hair looks ravishing today, Lady Versa,” she said.
Versa gave the faintest of smirks. Her luscious red hair was usually out on display as she roamed the palace or received guests in the throne room. When word had come that a thousand warships were fast approaching, she had her servants put her hair up into elaborate braids. “You are too kind,” she replied with a slight bow.
“I have always adored the vibrant hair colors of the Elementi in contrast to their darker complexions. You also wore it in this fashion at the Battle of Skulge, did you not?”
Versa raised a brow. “The councilors are well informed.”
“I prefer the term educated,” Laski corrected. “I wasn’t hand-picked by the Empress Elect to be a member of the New Jhori Council by relying on the intelligence of others. Well informed makes it sound as if I have my own council of advisors to which I could depend upon.”
The other two councilors who seemed content on letting Laski do all the talking nodded their heads in affirmation. They looked like they could be twins. Old men with long white beards and thick wrinkles.
“I can imagine the sight of our escorts arriving in your skies was a fearsome spectacle, but I assure you, Lady Versa, that your esteemed skills in combat will not be required. You see, however daunting a thousand warships may be, it has been deemed a necessary precaution when numerous councilors are sailing through the stars. Even within the boundaries of our own nation.”
“It is a dangerous galaxy,” said Versa. “Your fears are more than warranted.”
Laski’s grin faded. “A dangerous galaxy indeed. Which brings us to the reason of our visit. On behalf of the Empress Elect, we were hoping to see how far along your son was coming in his training.”
“Then you came to the wrong place,” said Jrax. “Prince Dravon is still completing his final year at the academy.”
“It was not Dravon we were interested in seeing,” said Laski.
Jrax’s eyes narrowed on the councilor. His eldest son, Dravon, who was named after Jrax’s older brother upon the insistence of Queen Drelaine, was in line to inherit the crown. Therefore, he was off limits to Jhori agencies or any militia. His other child, Jraken, was not in line for such a title. Which made him completely applicable to be recruited by such entities.
All the royal families of the Elementi were forced to send their children to the Jhori academy from age 15 to 20. The first five years of adulthood for an Elementi were to be spent learning the history and ideologies of New Jhori. A history Jrax was certain had been tampered with, and an ideology that they taught but did not follow.
“Prince Jraken is only 13,” said Versa. “He still has two more years before he is to be tested at the academy.”
“I am aware of how the Elementi academy is run,” said Laski. “Is there some reason why Jraken would be unable to show us his progress right now?”
Jrax took another sip from his glass. All he tasted was the ice that had melted. He needed another drink. Why the sudden interest in Jraken? What hidden motives could be behind the councilors requesting to see the development of his younger child?
“It’s a fairly easy question,” said Laski. “Is he or is he not well enough to put on a display for us?”
“He is well enough,” said Jrax. It was clear there was no way around this. They didn’t bring this many warships to take no for an answer. “What kind of display did you have in mind?”
“A sparring match,” said Laski. “One of these Pyran agents against the prince.”
“Prince Jraken is still on the cusp of manhood,” argued Versa. “He’ll be no match for a seasoned agent.”
Laski grinned with squinted eyes. “Humor me.”
Prince Jraken sat on a bench in the locker room as servants loosened up his muscles and helped him put on his battle garments. His charcoal hair curled down to his shoulders. Rather than the bright red eyes of his father or the orange eyes of his mother, Jraken had inherited violet eyes. Something that had caused rumors around Pyra of him being illegitimate. Nothing with much weight behind it, but it was more than enough to instill a sense of needing to prove himself.
To say he was excited would be an understatement. His heels bounced against the ground in rapid succession as he anticipated the fight to come. He only ever sparred against his grandfather, Locke Heater. The man responsible for the prince’s training. And he had only ever lost.
Jraken would have expected his grandfather to share in his excitement in this opportunity to exhibit the work they had accomplished together. All those long days of training were now about to pay off.
As Locke entered the room and dismissed the servants, he knew that was not at all the case. His grandfather kept his hands behind his back and his head down. He seemed as if he struggled for the right words.
“Is something wrong?” asked Jraken.
Locke looked up and met his gaze. “I don’t think this is the time to reveal your abilities.”
Jraken’s heart skipped a beat. This was all he had ever wanted. “What do you mean? Most of Pyra is out in that coliseum. This is my chance to show my father what I’m made of. Besides, it’s not like we can turn down a request from the Empress Elect.”
“No,” Locke agreed. “We certainly cannot do that. However, there is no reason for you to show the extent of what you are capable of.”
“So, what then?” Jraken wasn’t sure he could believe what he was hearing. “Throw the match?!”
Locke put a finger to his lips to remind Jraken to keep his voice down. “I know what I am asking of you. However, I fear what the Jhori would do with you if they found out how gifted you really are.”
“How gifted am I?” asked Jraken. “Could I be as good as Uncle Dravon? Or my mother?”
Jraken watched his grandfather wince at the thought of Queen Drelaine before he spoke. This was what his grandfather did anytime he brought up his mother.
“I was appointed by your royal grandfather, King Drojax, to train his three children. You have only known a life of peace. In times of war, training to become a warrior is a paramount part of longevity. The responsibility of ensuring the children of the king would be adequately proficient on the battlefield was entrusted to me. I trained them all to be warriors of renowned abilities. Feared by even the Starvast of Farako.”
“And you think I could be like them?” asked Jraken. His eyes were full of wonder.
“This is what I am trying to tell you.” Locke paused and shook his head. He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. “You have progressed through your training like nothing I have ever seen before.” There was almost a hint of regret in his words.
“So, I have even more bril than they did?” he asked.
“Bril is not something that can easily be measured. Yes, it is the invisible force that give Elementi the ability to manipulate and manifest the elements, but don’t think of it in terms of simple measurements. One would not compare a heavy lifter to a long-distance sprinter. There are those who can exert large amounts of bril at once, while others are better suited at maintaining a steady flow. There are Onyxians and Lunanites gifted with bringing their bril to life in the form of stone and ice golems. The Aerosi can use their bril to manipulate the wind into giving them flight. How does one measure all of these abilities on a scale of better or worse?”
Jraken could only shrug.
“That being said,” Locke continued. “It would be all too easy for even naive eyes to see that the mastery you have over your bril is far ahead of schedule.”
“Why would I want to hide that? Why not go out there and make our people proud?” Jraken asked as he gestured towards the arena through the wall behind them.
“You saw all the warships circling around us on the way here, did you not?”
“I was told that the councilors always travel with that many warships,” said Jraken.
“Not even in times of war has Pyra ever been visited by an armada of this magnitude. Three of the seven councilors that oversee the entire vast nation of New Jhori under the direction of the Empress Elect have brought those ships with them here just to see you spar. For me, this is beyond cause for suspicion. I am not overstating things when I say the fate of Pyra may rest in your hands today. If the Jhori thought they had a new powerful weapon, they could very well use it against Farako. The war would be reignited.”
Jraken made a deep gulp. His arms fell to his sides, and he leaned forward as he hung on to his grandfather’s every word. “But we are at peace. Why would they want to restart the war?”
“Because with you,” replied Locke. “They just might be able to win.”
Locke had fought for the Jhori nation for most of his life. His loyalty had been put to the test along with every other Elementi when the Empress Elect ordered all of them to be quarantined to their homeworld, Elementa, and her five moons.
“Do you recall learning of the Siege of Grevenor?” asked Locke.
“Of course,” said Jraken. “My mother and Uncle Dravon led the assault, and they retook Grevenor in a single night.”
“Historians speculate the numbers and I know that the estimates have been interfered with to keep our potential hidden from not only us but our adversaries across the galaxy. We are led to believe that two great Pyran warriors defeated nearly 500 soldiers when storming the gates of Grevenor on that evening.”
“How many do you think they actually defeated?” asked Jraken.
“I know for a fact that the number is closer to 5,000.”
Jraken’s chin dropped. “5,000? That’s incredible!”
“And at the rate you are progressing. I have reason to believe you will surpass even them.” Locke had never expected that this would be such troubling news, but as he looked down at his grandson, he felt remorse for the path he had put his family down. He had only wanted to sire the most powerful warrior the galaxy had ever known. He once thought it was his purpose in his life. It had been such a noble cause. He never stopped to consider the fact that he was simply creating more tools of war.
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“Me?” Jraken tried to imagine himself taking on an army of 5,000 with only one other Pyran at his side. It didn’t seem possible.
“This is why the Councilors are so interested in your abilities. They will use you until the last of your flames have been extinguished. Don’t let them turn you into a weapon,” Locke put a hand on his grandson’s shoulder. He hated how foolish he had been in his younger days. He had been too blind to see that it was his ambition for power that had killed his daughter. He looked down at Jraken. It was evident from the boy’s face that he was quickly becoming overwhelmed. “Throw the fight, Jraken. Let the galaxy rest easy in believing they have no further reason to fear the Elementi.”
Jraken looked up into Locke’s orange eyes. In them he saw more fear and desperation than he ever knew existed in his grandfather. It was enough for the young prince to nod in agreement. “Okay. I will throw the fight.”
Locke made his way to the royal box to watch the fight as soon as he had finished speaking with Jraken. He wished he had the courage to tell him the truth. To tell him the whole story behind what happened to his mother. To tell him about the secrets behind why he was so gifted. But every time Locke tried to speak of his daughter, no words would come.
It had been twelve years since the death of his only child. He could still see her beaming smile as if no time had passed at all. When he reminisced of his daughter it was always the same moment. The day King Drojax announced her betrothal to his eldest son, Prince Dravon(I). He was so proud that the daughter of a commoner like him would become a queen. If he had known what fate awaited her, he would have gladly rejected the marriage no matter the consequences.
The New Jhori Councilors sat in the royal box with King Jrax, his sister, Versa, and her husband, Baster Pyre. It was raised high above and protruded out several paces further than the other seats in the coliseum.
“This is our royal combat instructor, Locke Heater,” said Versa upon his arrival.
Locke would never have chosen to sit in the royal box. As the father-in-law of the king, he was certainly permitted. He remembered a time when he and Drelaine had first been invited to watch a tourney in the royal box. They had been ecstatic upon receiving the request.
Back then, Princess Versa had been but a child who followed Drelaine around admiring her every step. Being of the same age, Prince Jrax and she became rivals that grew into close friends. Prince Dravon(I) was already off making history in the war against Farako. Those days had died along with his daughter.
Unfortunately, his presence had been specifically requested by Councilor Laski.
“The royal combat instructor,” echoed Laski as she looked him up and down. “Do you train all the royal children then?”
Locke stumbled for words. He didn’t want to make Jraken sound like he was getting treated any different than his brother or cousins, but the truth was that he had chosen to devote all his time solely to him.
“An easy question,” said Laski when he failed to respond in a timely manner.
With a thousand warships hovering above his head, the last thing Locke wanted to do right now was get caught lying to a councilor. “I have little of the time or the energy to take on more than one apprentice these days,” he told her.
“Is that so?” asked Laski. “Well, I’m curious to see the fruits of your labor.”
“Jraken is coming along very well,” said Versa. “What he is lacking in some areas he can make up for with other strengths.”
Locke knew his old student, Versa, was just as gifted with her words as she was with her flames. The two were often at odds ever since Locke had refused to train her two children, but he was relieved to see that he would have her assistance when it came to concealing Jraken’s potential. A potential that he assumed she had only a veiled suspicion of until now.
The audience started to cheer as an announcer introduced the two combatants.
“Graduating from the academy only four years ago, this young man has already made quite the name for himself at the Coimen agency! Pyra, welcome back your blazing son, Captain Klaster Pyre!”
The audience roared as Klaster walked out to the center of the arena. He had short curly blonde hair that came to a red tip. Paired with it was a bushy blonde moustache that also became redder near the lips. He was wearing his blue agency uniform which was already adorned with a few badges boasting of his achievements.
“Your nephew has made quite the name for himself,” Laski said to Baster. “I have considered acquiring him for my own personnel on several occasions.”
Baster had to clear his throat before speaking. He hadn’t expected Laski to acknowledge him. Let alone strike up conversation. He looked to his wife, and she gave him a nod of permission. In terms of size, he was the largest person in the royal box, but you would hardly know it from how soft spoken and meek he behaved.
“Yes,” he said. “Klaster has made the Pyre family very proud.”
“I’m sure your son, Allabar, will benefit greatly from his achievements. I’ve no doubt that several agencies will jump at the chance to acquire a Pyre of their own,” said Laski.
Versa expertly kept her emotions in check. On the surface, no one would assume that anything was amiss. Though, as she heard her son’s name come from Laski’s mouth, it made her stomach churn and her blood boil.
“Thank you, councilor,” Baster said, gleaming with pride. “Versa and I certainly have high hopes for him.”
This time Baster did receive a glance from his wife, and he immediately regretted having spoken on her behalf.
Once the crowd had settled, the announcer continued. “His opponent, making his Pyra coliseum debut! At only age 13 this young man more than has his work cut out for him, but as the son of our very own King Jrax and the late Great Queen Drelaine, he isn’t lacking when it comes to having tremendous genes! Citizens of Pyra, I give you your scorching prince, Jraken Ferno!”
Jraken covered his eyes as the contrast of the bright sun compared to the dark hallway that he had just walked through caught him off guard. His eyes adjusted and his heart raced as he looked at the multitude of people who had come to see his fight.
“I’ll apologize in advance, Prince Jraken!” yelled Klaster from across the arena floor, “but I was instructed not to go easy on you!” The cocky grin he held as he spoke did not make the apology feel very sincere.
Jraken couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. Little did Klaster know that the prince had been instructed to go easy on his opponent.
Whether he had meant to or not, Jraken’s chuckle struck a nerve with the captain. Klaster got into a fighting stance. The air around him started to bend from the heat that was being generated by his bril.
“Combatants ready?”
Jraken took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves and then got into his stance to signal that he was ready for the exhibition match to begin.
“FIGHT!”
The battle started with a large plume of fire that was being emitted from Klaster’s outstretched hands. Jraken avoided the plume with consecutive back handsprings until Klaster extinguished his flames and lunged toward the prince.
Jraken was amazed how slow the captain was compared to what he was accustomed to when sparring with his grandfather. Each attack was dodged with ease as Klaster desperately chased his opponent around the arena.
“You’re pretty quick, little prince,” Klaster confessed after another of his attacks was evaded.
As the royal family sitting in the box watched the fight go on, they each expressed very different emotions toward what they were seeing. Versa watched the match closely from the edge of her seat with intrigued eyes. Locke’s back was pressed against his chair with his fingers grasped on the arms so tight his knuckles were white. Baster observed the fight with ignorant excitement. And King Jrax remained in an uninterested slump as he took sips from a bottle that had replaced the glass from earlier.
Jraken had just dodged another attack when he glanced up at the royal box. All he saw was his father as apathetic as he ever was. His temper got the better of him and he threw a fireball at Klaster so fast that the captain had little time to react to it.
Klaster crossed his arms in front of his face, but the force of the blast on contact still sent the warrior sliding back three paces. When he stopped, he shook the smoke off his arms and some of the pain along with it.
“So, you do have a little firepower in you,” he said.
After watching his opponent lose ground to his attack, Jraken came back to his senses. He knew he had to throw this fight. From what his grandfather had said, lives could very well depend on it. He would be lying if he said he understood it all completely, but he trusted his grandfather.
Klaster charged at Jraken with a flame hovering above each palm. He threw the first one and Jraken knocked it into the ground with the back of his hand. When Klaster threw the second one from point-blank Jraken did nothing to avoid it.
Rather than detonate upon impact like Jraken’s fireball had done, Klaster’s flame carried Jraken across the arena until it slammed him into the middle of the tall stone wall below the coliseum seats. He fell to the ground under a small pile of rubble that had broken off due to the force of the impact.
“What a shot!” yelled the announcer. Consecutive buzzers slowly went off while Jraken was laying on the ground. “But will we reach a seven count?”
Jraken acted like he was trying to get up, but on the sixth buzzer he slid his hand on some debris to fall back down. The seventh buzzer sounded off and the crowd erupted with cheers.
“I hope you found his performance adequate,” Versa said to the councilors.
Laski fidgeted around in her seat. “It seemed to raise more questions than it answered,” she said. “The prince appeared to have the upper-hand through the majority of the fight.”
“Yes, well, exerting oneself too soon is a very common mistake amongst inexperienced fighters,” explained Locke. He couldn’t have been prouder of Jraken. Taking a hit like that was not an easy thing to ask of anyone. Let alone your own grandson, but he had performed admirably.
“Perhaps,” said Laski as she eyed the drunken king sitting to her left. “Or perhaps he just needs the right motivation. When was the last time you sparred in an exhibition, Jrax?”
Versa was quick to reply. “The king is not permitted to partake in public spars.”
“Says who?” asked Laski. “That was a suggestion for times of war. No one ever officially decreed it.”
Locke could see the shipwreck that was approaching. If Jraken was presented with an opportunity to spar with his father, there was little hope the boy would be able to hold back. This councilor was a crafty creature.
“Councilor Laski,” said Locke. “The boy wasn’t strong enough to defeat Captain Klaster. I do not wish to speak ill of a fellow Pyran warrior, but Klaster does not hold a candle to King Jrax. It would be a very short and albeit humiliating defeat for the child. Hasn’t he suffered enough embarrassment for one day?”
Laski’s grin faded into a look of utter annoyance. “Humor me.”
King Jrax buzzed with euphoria. He could sense that his family was doing everything they could to convince the councilor that it was not a good idea for him to spar with his son in front of an audience. And he could not have cared less.
If they thought the brat was some kind of prodigy, then who better than him to prove he wasn’t? Jrax could feel his blood pumping in anticipation.
I’ll take him down so fast the Jhori will second guess even sending him to the academy! He thought to himself as he jumped down from the royal box. He landed near the center of the arena with bottle still in hand. Klaster bowed to his king and promptly exited through the hallway he had entered from.
It was all Jraken could do to keep from looking too excited. Ever since he had thrown his first fireball he had wanted to spar with his father, and now he was standing adjacent to him in the Pyran coliseum. The feeling of déjà vu was uncanny. He had woken up from this exact scenario in numerable dreams over the years.
“What’s this? I’m not sure I believe what I’m seeing.” The announcer cleared his throat. “It looks like King Jrax is challenging the young prince!”
Jrax finished his bottle. Eight gulps followed by a large belch. When he saw the look of disapproval on his son’s face, he threw the bottle at him. The prince barely avoided it as it whizzed past him to be smashed into thousands of tiny glass shards upon hitting the wall behind him.
“This is it, you little shit!” he shouted over to Jraken. Total silence fell on the coliseum as everyone in attendance leaned in to hear what their king was saying to his son. “The eldest prince didn’t turn any heads, but for some ridiculous reason they want to see what you are capable of!” Jrax stumbled backwards and then steadied himself. “So, let’s see if old man Locke is still training warriors like he used to!”
Jraken felt his temper rise at the sight of his drunk and disorderly father. His bril started bending the air around him as he released it from his body. Ready to be transformed into fire at a moment’s notice. “The first time you acknowledge me in years, and you do it by throwing a glass bottle at my face and calling me a little shit?”
“Don’t flex your bril at me unless you want a fight, boy,” Jrax warned.
“You’re an embarrassment to Pyra,” Jraken replied. “To all the Elementi people.”
“You want to be king?” Jrax pulled off his slim golden crown and dangled it out in front of himself. “You think it’s so easy? Go on. Take it. It’s all yours.”
Jraken took a couple steps toward his father, and his father did nothing in response.
“We’re all waiting,” Jrax teased. “Come on. Put me in my place.”
Jraken had heard enough. His father was standing wide open to attack, and he was so drunk he could barely even do that. Jraken took note of the distance and was certain he could dash forward before his father would have time to respond. His calculations could not have been more wrong.
Before Jraken could even reach his hand out to swipe the crown, Jrax had swung it up and clocked him across the face with it. Jraken started to fall back in a daze but was hit in the chest by a swinging kick that sent him flying back and into a roll.
Jraken adjusted and came out of the roll back on his feet fifteen paces from where his father had kicked him.
“That’s a grain of sand in the vast desert of pain this crown brings to those who are forced to wear it,” said Jrax. “Since your brother will be the one to have to inherit this burden, I thought it would only be fair that I share some of its pain with you today!”
Jraken spit out a mouthful of blood. His rage overwhelmed him, and he let it out with an angry battle cry. He shot fire down into the ground that propelled him toward his father. He met him with a fiery punch that was stopped short by a firm forearm. Jraken continued to send a volley of kicks, punches, knees, and elbows as soon as his initial attack had been blocked. Anything he could do that would inflict damage. Every single one of his attacks came to a brief end and eventually Jraken sent a kick that Jrax was able to anticipate and counter.
To Jrax’s surprise, his son recovered quickly and the two exchanged blows for a moment without either one being able to break the other’s guard.
At first the audience believed their king was just toying with the young prince, but as the fight ensued, more and more people were beginning to wonder if Jrax was starting to have to actually exert himself against the young warrior.
The onslaught of attacks went on until Jrax finally got a good punch in that sent his son across the arena.
Jrax pursued him directly after the punch to inflict more damage while he was still flailing through the air. He was again surprised to find his son had quickly recovered and was already instigating the next round of attacks before he could even reach him.
This continued for a few more rounds. Jraken found it harder and harder to recover after each hit that he unwillingly allowed his father to get past his defenses. His face was so bloody he could barely see. His body trembled from the pain but still he fought on.
“Just stay down. You’ve made your point, boy,” said Jrax. “Your brother never and may never make it to this level.”
“He has nothing to do with this!” Jraken shouted. “This is between you and me!”
Jrax laughed. “What then? What is it you possibly hope to achieve here?”
Jraken struggled to get back to his feet. His hopes of defeating his father had been wiped away. Though, there was still one thing that he had to do. One thing he had to prove to himself that he could do. “One drop,” he muttered. “One drop of blood. I’m not staying down until I get at least one drop of blood from you!”
“You might well be the star of your generation, but I was raised in the flames of war,” said the king. Then he got into his fighting stance for the first time since the battle had started. “If you want blood, then come and get it.”
Jraken dashed toward his father and as he did, he tapped into a reserve of bril that he never knew he had. He surged forward faster than either father or son expected and Jraken wound up tackling his father to the ground. He got one quick punch to his father’s face before Jrax’s body suddenly became engulfed in flame.
The heat was more than Jraken could handle, and he was forced to jump off. His father, whose entire body remained covered in flames, got up and lunged.
With King Jrax’s brill completely ignited, he was able to move much quicker than Jraken was ready to react to. He connected a powerful uppercut to the chin of his son which was rapidly followed by a spinning kick to the side of the head.
Jrax extinguished the flames around his body and stood over his son’s now unconscious body. He was breathing hard. He hadn’t meant to use the All-Flame technique. It had just been so long since he had participated in a fight like that. Now he knew. There was no longer any denying that there was something special about this boy.
At a certain point in the match, the crowd of Pyrans had consecutively rose to their feet. A conjoined unconscious decision brought on by fascination and admiration. They stayed silent for some time. Even the operator in charge of starting the countdown was too stunned to press the button. It was someone in the nosebleeds who first came out of their stupor and started a slow clap. Pretty soon the crowd was giving raucous applause.
Laski stood up from her chair. “You will send Jraken to the academy as soon as he has recovered from his injuries. Failure to do so will result in quarter-rations not just for Pyra, but all Elementi for an entire year.” Her voice was stern and filled with animosity.
“Understood, Councilor Laski,” Versa said obediently. Her gaze was still fixated on her brother. Bewildered that he had just revealed his ability to use the All-Flame technique. Something that was supposed to be their ace in the hole should war break out again.
Laski stopped as she walked past Locke. She bent down and whispered in his ear. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Locke, but we’ll take it from here.”
Jrax walked away from his incapacitated son into one of the hallways that ran under the coliseum seats. It had been several years since he had taken a punch like the one his son had just given him. He rotated his jaw around and felt a small pop. When he was in no doubt that he was alone, he pressed down on the tooth that was causing him the most discomfort with his pointer finger. He pulled his finger out and found that it was still void of any blood.
“Not this time, my son.” A rare grin forced itself onto his face. “Not this time.”