Earth In Words Institute, Auditorium Four, Backstage
Breathing, and exhaling.
Tuning her violin.
Rehearsing softly the notes for one last time.
Clenching her bow as if her life depends on it.
Feeling…
The world is her oyster.
Fear is but a feeling. A chemical reaction caused by her brain… Right?
They’ll see her, at last.
There’ll be nowhere to run… Nowhere to hide.
Just the stage. Just their eyes. Just her music…
...Just how many of them are out there?
“Beatrice? What are you doing here?”
Releasing a small, shameful yelp, Beatrice nearly drops her instrument in the process of turning and facing the familiar voice with a quick scan of her wide eyes.
“W-what do you want?”
The group of girls, whom Beatrice immediately recognizes as Anabella and her friends, exchange looks among themselves, until they all end up facing Anabella herself.
“Fine. I get it so drop it already,” Anabella murmurs toward them before finding Beatrice’s gaze once more and sighing exasperatedly. “I’m sorry. For, you know, the punch and everything. Resorting to violence is never the answer… No matter how mu-”
“An! You promised!”
“Resorting to violence is never the answer. I shouldn’t have hit you. Here.”
Anabella never averts her eyes from Beatrice’s, although her voice and expression grow robotic midway through her apology, at the end of which she extends her open palm toward Beatrice; Not for a handshake, but showcasing the metallic object in the middle of it.
“I don’t why it matters so much to you, but have you considered not dropping it from now on?”
Beatrice stares at the beautiful jade ring offered to her for a long moment.
A part of her wants to slap it away, for everything it represents.
But then she would have to search for it later… She’d never be able to truly leave it behind. That, she realizes, was the problem all along, wasn’t it?
“Thanks,” Beatrice murmurs, finally reaching for the ring. “You had no obligation to bring it to me… Again. So, thanks. And sorry for slapping you, but I was really looking forward to those sweets, you know?”
Anabella rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Never get in between a girl and her food; Got it.”
Beatrice examines the ring for a moment, then pries open her violin case and tosses the thing inside of it. No point in distracting herself with the accursed object right before her performance.
“You’re participating today?”
Apparently, Anabella wasn’t done. Instead of leaving, she inspects Beatrice’s dress for a moment, then nods, seemingly satisfied.
“Nice dress, though it won’t help.”
“No,” Beatrice agrees, “No, it won’t. But I like looking pretty.”
“Fair enough.” Anabella shrugs, signalizing for her pack to follow as she turns to leave, but then hesitates and glances over her shoulder. “Ah, and Beatrice? You have no chance, so there’s no reason to feel nervous.”
Gradually, Beatrice feels her lips parting into a smile. However, she does not answer to Anabella’s provocation.
Today, her music will speak for itself.
***
Training Grounds
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
As Melinda lightly hits the air, and Seijuro performs slow movements requiring equilibrium and strength, Seijuro spares the other girl a single exasperated glance.
“Spare me the moral lesson, Mom. I have every intention of delivering on my promise to Beatrice.”
“Yeah, right,” Melinda retorts in between short breaths intertwined by quick jabs, “This thing is scheduled to last the entire day. You’ve no idea how long each fight is going to take, and it’s probably the most popular event today.”
Melinda nods toward the rapidly growing audience of students, teachers, parents, and Gods know who else as they repurpose the many staircases leading to different dojos into convenient, though probably uncomfortable, seats.
Surrounding the rings in the middle of the large space, they should amount to a couple thousand, at least. Most likely nearing five thousand or so already, and the competition has yet to begin.
“Beatrice’s competition is scheduled to end before lunch; Face it, there’s no way either of us is going to make it, even if she is last to perform.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Melinda shakes her head, panting as she stops for long enough to grab a towel nearby and wipe her face.
“Excuse me? Miss Aston? Miss Sutton?”
An older woman, undoubtedly a part of the competition’s organization committee, smiles once she manages to grab the girls’ attention.
“I’m Lara, and as you may have guessed, I’m here to brief you on the details regarding today’s festival. Feel free to ask any of us if you need anything,” the woman speaks, still smiling, as she points towards the dozen or so uniform-wearing school employees currently going through the group of students with digital clipboards in hands identical to her own.
“Thank you; We’re listening,” Melinda says, while Seijuro nods, signalizing for her to continue.
“I assume you are aware of the prize?”
“Yes,” Seijuro answers simply before Lara can launch an explanation. The last thing she needs or wants is to be reminded-
“I’m sorry, but… I’m not sure I really get it.”
Ignoring Seijuro’s glare, Melinda wraps her towel around the back of her neck, holding onto both tips of it.
“Right.” The uniformed woman nods, her unwavering smile never leaving its place. “Don’t worry Miss Sutton, many other students are also confused; It’s why I’m here. I assume you’ve heard of Aston’s newest release?”
Melinda glances toward Seijuro, but nods. “Eden, right? A VR game?”
“Precisely. You see, in order to enter Eden, one must possess one of the keys to its world: a VR headgear, a device capable of connecting to our System and realistically projecting the user senses elsewhere; To Eden, in this case.”
Seijuro has to give it to her; Lara never even glanced in her direction during her explanation.
“Sounds cool,” Melinda says, shrugging. “Never had much time to play games, but you’re offering ten of these as prize for winning today, right?”
“Precisely. By winning, you’ll assure yourself among the first explorers of Eden, and a right to any riches obtained within. I should warn Miss Sutton to not look down on such a chance. Eden was created as a world with plenty yet limited resources and opportunities.”
Seijuro has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.
Made-up resources in a made-up world... Truly, an honor.
“Now, for the competition itself. Given the nature of the prize, or, more precisely, the number of prizes, there shall be no single winner today, but ten lasting survivors who’ll take home their reward.”
“How many fights?” Melinda asks immediately once Lara is done talking.
“For you, Miss Sutton? Considering your Dan, we’ve decided to advance you in the bracket from the beginning in order to save some time, so… Three wins should guarantee you one of the headsets.”
Melinda frowns, a sentiment Seijuro is inclined to agree with. Three fights in the same day - even amateur ones composed of a single round – is rough. And most of the others will have to fight even more?
“And what if somebody is injured in one of their fights? Even if they win, won’t their next fight be a sure loss? Not to say dangerous?” Melinda points out, to which the woman’s smile wavers for the first time.
“You’re right, of course. The risk of injured students fighting multiple fights is certainly too great, which is why it was decided that injured students will not be allowed to fight in their next match, automatically forfeiting. That being said, all students will still have multiple hours in between each of their matches, during which our team will do their utmost to prepare them – you – physically and mentally. Besides, matches will be refereed by one of our Masters, as always.”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Damn it, Liam, why? Was it really Irwin who caused Aston to rush the project? Will this impact her mother’s chances, whatever they may be?
Seijuro shakes her head; She already spent most of yesterday thinking about all of this, and she’ll have more time to think after grabbing one of the stupid toys. At least, with her plan, this should progress much faster than it’d have otherwise.
She has not the time, nor the patience, to spend an entire day in this circus.
“Is there a problem, Miss Aston?”
Seijuro smiles, the usual sweet showing of her teeth her fans seem to love so much. “Nothing much. May I ask when the first fight shall take place?”
“Fights,” Lara corrects, pointing toward the many large stone platforms at her back, on top of which, Seijuro assumes, fights will take place for the duration of the day; Multiple of them at the same time, it seems. “In half an hour or so, all going according to plan.”
“More than enough time, then,” Seijuro murmurs to herself happily, which attracts inquisitive gazes from both of the women; Gazes she has no problem ignoring.
After a couple more seconds of awkward silence, once it becomes clear Seijuro has no intention of elaboration, Lara clears her throat and then points toward the many modern buildings behind them.
“You should find anything you may need in between each match available in there. Food, rest, medical care… For the day, our facilities were specially prepared to receive you. Since you’ll be notified by the System of your fights, there’s no need to fear missing them. Any more questions?”
“I think we’re good,” Melinda says with another shrug, although she throws Seijuro an uncertain glance after speaking. “Right?”
“Sure,” Seijuro agrees with a shrug of her own. Not like the rules of a competition she has no intention of participating in hold much meaning to her anyway. “I’m supposed to fight thrice as well, right?”
Lara nods, smiling at her. “Indeed.”
“Cool. Are we live?”
“Uhm…” For the first time, Lara seems to show some doubt, glancing over her shoulder towards the middle-most, largest platform on top of which several Masters and other school employees currently talk among themselves. “We should, in a bit. Although, considering the sheer number of events being held at the same time today, we don’t know what to expect in terms of viewership.”
Not exactly an impediment to her plan, then.
“Well, I’ll leave you girls to your warm-up now. Though I should warn you, your fights will probably take a while still, since you’ll both be skipping the initial bracket.”
Lara hums happily to herself as she writes something on her digital clipboard with two swift gestures of her wrist, probably listing Seijuro and Melinda’s names as having been properly briefed in order to keep track of everybody who still hasn’t.
“Shit,” Melinda murmurs once Lara has moved toward the next group of students, “You think we could get away with sneaking out to watch Beatrice?”
Seijuro raises an eyebrow at her. “I’d have sworn you’d prefer to stay here.”
“And miss out on a chance to see the little imp embarrassing herself in public? If not for the tournament, I’d have been first row.”
Seijuro rolls her eyes as she resumes her warm-up routine from where she left it, gaining a confused look from Melinda.
“You heard Lara, right? We won’t be fighting for a while, so there’s no point in warming up now.”
Slow and precise movements. Steady, controlled breaths.
“Seijuro?”
“You should get back to it too,” Seijuro advises, clear amusement escaping through her voice as she gives Melinda a side glance. “Don’t blame me later if you miss your chance today.”
Melinda hesitates for a moment, visibly confused. Then, comprehension suddenly illuminates her expression, and she resumes punching the air without another word, seemingly with redoubled effort.
Seijuro has no clue as to what sort of conclusion the girl has reached on her own, but it’ll matter little in the end.
For now, Seijuro waits, watching as the audience grows, attracted by the prospect of blood in the form of entertainment, seen live for once; She waits, watching as school bots set to patrol the area at set intervals, offering beverages and food; As large holograms are projected above the many stages, ready to showcase battles to follow in gruesome detail to anybody caring to look.
A show, for certain.
“Welcome, Elysium citizens, to our Institute! Are you ready to root for your favorite Rankers today?!”
The audience cheers, an expanding wave of sound that shakes the air itself, ten thousand voices more than ready for the bloodbath to begin… Not that any of the students are supposed to actually die, Seijuro reminds herself.
“First, and foremost, I’d like to wish all of you a good morning! And remind you to stay hydrated throughout the excitement!”
Finally.
Ignoring the many visibly nervous students around her (as well as Melinda’s piercing stare firmly set on her back) Seijuro sets to walking towards the middle platform from her place at the edge of them.
Now, will anybody even try to stop her?
“Because today, you can expect a full day of it!”
At first, few seem to notice the lone girl walking toward the tournament announcer, their gazes causing Seijuro’s skin to prickle underneath them.
“Now, might I ask for a worthy welcome for our brave contestants?!”
But soon, fingers are being pointed midst the audience’s cheering, messages exchanged among panicked employees as they throw shocked stares in her direction; All of which Seijuro ignores while calmly walking up to a small set of stairs leading into the main stage, where the first school employee finally catches up to her, confusion and alarm written all over her expression.
“Miss Aston! This is-”
“Out of my way,” Seijuro murmurs, her gaze seemingly freezing the woman in place no different than a petrification spell might have. “And tell the others they better follow along, or I’m changing schools tomorrow.”
“Wha-?! Follow alon-”
Seijuro continues walking, ignoring the uniformed woman’s panicked babbling while each step climbed brings more attention to her presence, until every single set of eyes seems to have fallen upon her body.
All ten thousand of them, plus whichever cameras have now been pointed in her direction.
Not unlike usual.
As soon as Seijuro’s eyes meet those of the announcer, having finally stepped over the actual platform, the woman’s eyes shrink like those of a deer caught by the light.
The woman’s smile, however, doesn’t even flinch, as she makes a flourished gesture toward Seijuro.
“And a special set of applauses for our more than special guest of the day, Princess Seijuro Aston!”
***
Gaming Center, Upper Floor
‘Now.’
Avril’s curt command quickly springs Sara’s fingers into action.
On screen, SlashingWind dashes from her crouched position to a full-blown sprint in an instant, jumping over a small stream of lava only to find itself faced by three surprised opponents.
Of course, no matter how realistic, the characters’ expressions still remain the same emotionless facade as they abruptly release their weapons in her direction, causing Sara to smile.
Even before SlashingWind has finished parrying the second attack, something dark shoots forward with precision and speed befitting the supernatural, beheading the archer standing at the back of their opponents’ small group, whose first arrow had yet to fire, regrettably enough.
A roll, another parry, and Sara finds herself one-on-one, at which point she easily switches to a lightning-fast, perfectly timed set of offensive combos her heavily armored opponent has no hope of surviving on his own.
‘Stop playing around.’
Sara clicks her tongue, though she still commands SlashingWind to kick, throwing its opponent off balance and providing enough of a window for a finishing, violent side slash aimed at the opening in between its helmet and armor plate which causes a small geyser of blood to shoot out.
As the heavy set of armor crashes against the ground, rather than relaxing, Sara quickly commands SlashingWind to rotate its first perspective camera to cover its surroundings, taking in the barren landscape of rocks and volcanic ash, half expecting her screen to flash red at a moment’s notice as she keeps her fingers ready to burst into movement at any instant.
In the following silence, Sara focus on the bodies on the ground quickly being consumed by mist, as well as the dark-dressed, spear-wilding warrior casually walking toward their prize: A simple orange flag plucked into the earth clumsily.
Unceremoniously, Avril commands DarkEnding to grab said flag’s pole, causing it to quickly disappear into a flash of light in its hands.
‘Nice,’ Sara sends over her connection with Avril as a brief announcement of their victory flashes on her screen.
One down, eight to go, Sara thinks to herself.
‘You guys got someone already? Damn, sure wish I was attack team. I might die of boredom over here,’ Zach comments through their call, causing Sara to roll her eyes, already predicting what sort of response the boy’s remark is going to earn him.
‘Silence, Zachary,’ Avril reprehends coldly, nearly before the boy has finished “speaking”, ‘Lest you fail your task and I’m forced to separate the useless thing in between your legs from the rest of you. And Sara, one more unnecessary comment from you, or needless slash, and I’m putting Grace on the offense for the rest of the day.’
As expected, Sara muses. Perhaps she’d have gotten away with her comment if not for Zach’s adding on top of it, but if she’s being honest with herself, what truly set Avril off was most likely Sara’s lack of efficiency when taking out her opponent.
For a moment, Sara considers defending herself by pointing out this is still a game and it’s okay to have fun sometimes, but the idea of facing Avril’s eyes IRL quickly extinguishes any sort of fire from her thoughts.
‘Formation two. Eyes peeled,’ Avril commands.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Sara mutters under her breath, not daring to send the comment through their connection in the game.
Other players will become harder and harder to find the longer the game goes on, Sara considers. They should rush and gather enough points while they still can… But Avril insisted on treating the whole thing as a serious training secession, and hence, here they are, pretending every opposing team has enough skill to be considered a threat.
Therefore, despite her hastiness, Sara patiently crouches SlashingWind behind a group of rocks as she watches DarkEnding moving ahead through the volcanic terrain.
While waiting, Sara carefully scans her screen for signs of movement around her teammate’s vicinity and beyond, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to see past the smoke and ash that seem to permanently permeate their surroundings.
Then, once Avril has gained enough of a head start, Sara moves SlashingWing to follow after, much more carefully.
Absently, Sara wonders how many other pro teams bothered entering the competition for the headsets. Official matches and tournaments are around the corner following the beginning of the new year, and anybody seriously considering becoming a pro should be too busy to think about playing another game, but then again, the headsets are in and on themselves a worthy prize, and the competition itself might be used as practice.
As something catches the corner of her vision, Sara is quick to stop SlashingWind in its tracks and hold her breath, focusing its “eyes” on the particular spot that grabbed her attention.
…Another trail of smoke?
It wouldn’t have been the first false alarm the tricky terrain played on her eyes, but… No, Sara realizes there’s more to it this time, and, sure enough, after a couple of seconds of waiting, she is quickly able to identify three players in light armor beelining downhill toward DarkEndink’s position.
‘Three spotted, ten seconds away, and coming down fast,’ Sara warns, forcing her mental voice to remain to the point and still, ‘I’m pretty sure they’ve noticed you.’
DarkEnding continues onward seemingly none the wiser, its movements unchanged in rhythm or nature, although Sara knows its player heard her warning loud and clear.
Instead of rushing to Avril’s rescue, Sara maintains SlashingWind’s position and bides her time, knowing sudden movements are bound to attract the enemy’s attention and ruin the element of surprise.
‘Five,’ Sara counts, feeling some of her tension slipping into her voice as she watches the players descent toward Avril and is finally able to identify their weapons, ‘One stopped to take aim, crossbow. No shields or long-range weapons on the others. Two, one… Now.’
Abruptly and without warning, DarkEnding turns from its calm, oblivious walk to a blur of movement, easily dodging a fast arrow Sara barely spotted midst smoke and ash, then pinpointing its spearhead deep into its closest assaulter’s eye, completely ignoring the existence of their helmet.
Damn monster, Sara can’t help but mutter internally as she rushes SlashingWind uphill, circling crossbow boy from his blind spot. Normally, she’d have rushed him, but since she’s supposed to consider the enemy a capable one, a more careful approach is in order.
Just as he’s finished loading his second arrow, Sara has completed her U-turn, being ready to descend upon him. SlashingWind sword flashes, but instead of the cool jump-kill she’d have reserved for a normal player, Sara brings out her spare dagger and throws, readying her follow-up attacks…
The dagger flies true. Crossbow boy never had a chance to fire a second shot, and most likely, never saw her coming until the end.
“How… anticlimactic,” Sara murmurs to herself as she quickly commands SlashingWind to retrieve its dagger, all the while scanning their surroundings for third parties who might have witnessed the action.
A good player would’ve reacted to her dagger throw or heard her footsteps. Sure, they’d still have died to her prepared follow-up combo…
‘Formation five.’
Sara sighs.