As Lyn lowered us with her grasp of wind, we set foot on the red sand that encircled the Pit. Towering walls of red and black above the massive hole in the ground were opened towards us and the sun in a wide crescent. The walls were organized in echelons on the inside. Alleys of seats on the lower rungs, only doors visible on the higher ones. The walls ended in ramps towards the ground on the crescent's extremities, their highest point in their middle, ending in a spike pointed towards the sky. Just under it was an hourglass big enough to be seen from here and a giant gong.

Half of the inside of the hole in the ground was covered by shadows, the light shining on the fighters of the half closest to the structure. Small circles were set in the hole, each defined by a faint white outline. The further from the shadow they were, the longer their circumference was. And the stronger the fighters inside the rings looked.

Kegen started walking towards the Pit, Lyn following slowly behind him " This right here, is the Pit where many fools meet to fight and watch others do the same. You will spend quite some time here from now on, and I do hope you'll enjoy your stay. Now come, boy. No time to lose. "

As we approached the Pit, Lyn just dashed and disappeared somewhere.

" Will she be alright ?"

" Yes. Do not worry about her. "

" From now on, you will train and rest for a gong and a half, and fight at least once in the Pit until the next one. While you do not fight, you should try to observe and learn as much as you can. "

" How much time is a gong ? "

" Roughly half of an old day. "

Oh.

" How will I train ? "

" Well you'll be under Jimmy or Benny, who will either be sparring with you and teaching you, or making you run laps and do other physical reinforcement activities. "

" Will I get to learn the arcane ? "

" In time, yes. "

At this moment, a black guy with more muscles than seemed possible for a human to have slammed on the gong with a short stick and then flipped the hourglass, while the deafening sound he created reverberated in the Pit.

" Well boy, better start now. Go run behind the wall, you'll meet your instructor there. Shoo. "

I started running in the red sand that encircled the arena, quickly reaching the wall's shadows. Further away from the walls, the sand took its orange shade again.

The shadow didn't change my vision too much, and I stopped running as I reached the bottom of the highest point of the wall, just where the hourglass was on the other side.

Two muscular black hands suddenly shot up from the sand and grabbed my ankles in an iron grip, just as the bald man that hit the gong slammed from up in the air in front of me, projecting sand everywhere. He held two sticks that I did not want to get hit by.

He roared close to my face, spittle flying on me, as veins on his head and neck bulged.

Silence fell and he just stood there looking at me with deep hatred in his eyes and a frown. A face identical to his but with a wide and elegant mustache popped up from the sand beside the hands that grabbed my legs.

A few beats passed and I kept my face blank. They began to chuckle, the battle rage in their eyes quickly replaced with mirth as they burst out laughing.

" Hi I'm Jim and the idiot in the ground is Ben. "

" Hi."

" Got a name ?"

" No. "

"How very eloquently put." Ben said, extricating himself from the sand. He was just as muscled and tall as his brother, the only difference between them being his mustache and a few scars placed on different spots of their upper-bodies, loose pants covering their legs.

" Well, we were told to train you. You'll only be seeing one of us at a time, but we're going to make you a battle beast in no time. Probably. Never trained anyone."

Having said what he wanted Ben leaped back up to the top of the wall, leaving me with his mustacheless sibling. I wanted to jump that high too.

" So, we're going to train you to fight. That means three things since you're still at base race : physical capacity, technique, and most importantly not dying. Sounds good ?"

" Yes." Not dying sounded fun.

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" Ok, great to see we're on the same page. Now go run 20 laps of the Pit."

///

He'd made it sound so easy. Each time I slowed down he'd add a lap. I was currently at a nice 6 laps, with 31 more to run. And kind of about to die of exhaustion.

But I knew the pain was just in my head and I kept going.

///

I reached 8 laps and pathetically fell to the ground after stumbling for a few more steps.

"Good to see you're pushing yourself. You're going to need it. Rest for a few moments, I'll be back."

I had a slight taste of blood in my mouth, my throat felt like nothing more than a rough conduit for air, my guts felt like they were about to explode, and the crimson sand was oh so comfortable.

I don't know how much time I laid there, but by the time the headache and the urge to vomit went away, I was poked out of it with a stick nonetheless.

"Get up."

So I did. My arms helped me more than my legs, but once I was standing I found I was fairly stable on my feet. For now.

Jim handed me a stick of wood that was thick and dense.

"Any weapon of choice ?"

I felt like I needed no weapons, that my hands were enough. But I knew I wasn't even close to capable enough to fight with them.

" I'd like to learn fistfighting. "

" Wow what was that ? 5 words ?" He chuckled but nodded approvingly as he returned to being serious. "Good thinking, it's the one thing that will serve you well anywhere and anytime. However we'll teach it after you've rested a bit, before your fight. We can't really do much with how weak you are. "

He took a step back.

"Anyway. This, is a club. A stick. Not a sword. They are not used the same way. You hold it at the base too though. Leave some room between the end and your hand. "

" I'm going to move and you're going to copy me at the same time."

He set his feet on the sand without making a sound and did a few slow movements in the air, which I tried to reproduce to the best of my abilities.

"You have to understand that a strike is not simply the movement of the stick. The weapon is part of you. You are not swinging a stick. You are striking. You have to move your legs, your hips, to rotate in a certain way and to have a certain footing."

"See, this isn't right, because… "

I did my best to gorge myself on the wisdom he offered.

///

After getting "not shit" at a few simple and basic ways to swing a stick around, we started working on defensive options. The main difference between the sword and the stick was in that domain. You could use both hands to block with it, but you had no hand guard thus always had to deflect, even when blocking up front.

" Always remember, even when you deflect, parry, or whatever, you always want your body to be out of the blow's way. In case you slip up or any other stupid thing like your opponent being too strong. It will save your life. See, when you're weak you especially want to… "

///

I was utterly spent. Jim had brought me some water with stale food that seemed edible, but was hard to grind on the teeths.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"For teaching me."

He smiled genuinely this time "I kinda like it. I hope Ben will too. It just feels right, I've always been good with kids. But you better get good fast, or this is going to be real boring real quick. "

He left and I quickly fell asleep on the cold sand, under the wall's shadow.

///

"Rise. Time for hand to hand combat."

I opened my eyes to Ben's curly and dignified mustache. My body felt stiff from both the training and where I’d slept..

I slowly pushed myself up, feeling the strain and aches in their fullest. At least my legs weren’t shaking.

He shot me an amused look "Stretching before resting will reduce your aches." Duly noted.

" So, fistfighting aye ? "

" Yes. "

"You've got to understand that close quarter combat isn't just all punches, jabs and slaps. It's an art. You've got to move your whole body, Jim should've taught you this well enough with the stick. It's a dance, really. You flow from kicks to knees as you press your advantage, or switch from elbows and grappling to jabs as you try to distance yourself from your opponent, to make your tempo prevail over his."

He sighed wistfully.

" But you're a long way from this. Now, be light on your feet and clench your jaw. That’s the bare minimum. Punch me"

I pulled back my arm and tried to really put my hips and shoulders into it.

My hand crashed like a wet rag on his abs. It hurt a lot.

" You're going to want to put your thumb on top of your fingers. Not inside your grip."

I tried punching him again. Didn’t hurt this time.

///

After practicing blocks, punches, kicks and strikes with knees and elbows, Ben left me to rest. I drank and ate some, resting my body on the warm sun-touched sand, while my head was on the ever cold sand under the wall’s shadow. Despite its inherent wrongness, the sun not moving had some advantages. Namely, long naps without fear of it getting too hot or too cold.

An eternal warm nap. Perhaps the closest thing to the Elysian fields there was on this mortal plane. Pure, unadulterated, mindless bliss.

Freezing cold water suddenly drenched my whole upper body, destroying this fragile isle of comfort and beatitude. I opened my eyes to a grinning Kegen. That rat.

“It looked unbearably hot and tiresome from here. I thought you might enjoy some kind of refreshment.“

I kept silent.

“Heh not even saying thanks to poor old Markus. Young’uns these days.”

“Is that your name ?”

“I’ve lived a long time. I’ve lots of name. But that’s the one you should use here. Anyway, it’s time for you to fight for real. Your opponent should be fairly weak. Many with nothing to lose come here, often in hope of a better tomorrow. That or fools trying to make a name for themselves. Do kill him though, wouldn’t want you to stay at base shift.”

He handed me a small knife, with a dull edge but a sharp tip. Definitely made for puncturing.

“Now come boy, no time to waste.”

I took my stick, unsure of which I’d be using. My steps toward the Pit were steady. I would not flinch.