Izai and Olav sat in the Netai Stadium again. This time, the grassy pitch had been replaced by tarps and additional seating. In the centre of the former pitch stood an elevated platform – a KY ring, as Katalia had pointed out. It was hexagonal and about 20 yards in diameter. Izai had been impressed, above all, by the way it had been constructed.

It began with young GaleStones – four Folkling, two Taurs, and one MegaAkila – Pushing Earth against each other. Their boulders collided, sending echoing rumbles throughout the stadium as the rocks crumbled into smaller pieces. Next, an elderly Taur appeared, slightly hunched with one downward curving horn missing. His black coat was partially covered by a purple velvet tracksuit that revealed a white diamond pattern on his chest. He raised his glowing tail, and the rubble began to float and grind against each other until it became sand.

With the help of the young GaleStones, the elderly Taur arranged the sand into the elevated hexagonal platform. Afterward, an Akila man flew above the platform, his large white wings flapping slowly to keep him afloat. He carefully sprinkled a powder-like substance onto the KY ring.

“What’s that for?” Olav leaned in.

“Only Pulse cells can deplete the health of other Pulse cells,” Tai explained.

“So, they cut the Pulse cells off Kin?” Olav mumbled, clearly confused. Only Izai caught the question.

“It’s so that if someone smacks you on the ground, you lose your Valour,” Katalia added.

“Valour?” Izai asked.

“It’s like the health of your cells. When it gets to zero, you enter Cell-Lock.”

Izai knew this. His father had often warned him that when his strength began to give out, it meant he was close to Cell-Lock and should neutralize the situation.

Once the Akila man had poured the powder, the young GaleStones Pushed Sap from two drums, covering the hexagon with a dull orange liquid. They spread out around the ring and gradually raised their arms from waist height to shoulder height. The Sap behaved as if someone were Pushing very thick water. In unison, they spread their fingers apart and then slowly brought them together, causing the Sap to be absorbed by the ring until no traces remained. The ring was now ready. The small crowd that had gathered in the stadium applauded.

Tai instead they attend the GKYA promotional tour. “The timing is perfect,” he exclaimed, hoping that the show would convince Izai to take up the Purge.

The stadium gradually filled out as best as it could. Olav reminded Izai that in a couple of weeks, they would also be wearing the same blue shirts with “SECURITY” printed in bold white letters on the back, just like ones they saw roaming around. Izai made it a point to see how many Pulsers were on the security team. At the end of the night, he had only seen one. A MegaFolk girl with deep blue skin, white freckles on her cheeks, and slightly tangled long dull white hair.

“I don’t think it’s going to fill up,” Katalia noted about an hour later.

The main show was about to start.

“150th anniversary year and yet they can’t fill a stadium where it all started. How sad,” Tai remarked.

“To be fair,” Katalia pointed to the banners, “it’s only a promotional tour.”

Tai cocked an eyebrow and pointed his blue finger at another banner featuring three MegaTaurs and three MegaFolk. It read: “BoB v Gaios Hekta, Titos Pericles, and Minos for the GKYA World Tatu Championships.

The final portion of the audience arrived. There were still visible patches of empty seats strewn around the stadium where Kin should have been seated. Izai recalled how during the Iron Blitz match, every inch of the stadium had been covered by Folks and Taurs waving banners, flags, and chanting obscenities at each other.

The lights dimmed. An elderly Folk with the shiniest scalp Izai had ever seen stood in the middle of the ring, holding a mic and wearing a suit with the pointiest shoulders he had ever witnessed.

“Welcome to the Global Kai-Yo Alliance,” his voice, once booming, now showing signs of aging.

The crowd cheered. This was followed by a standing ovation after the Yimani Republic national anthem had been butchered by a little girl who Izai was sure had to be an important someone’s daughter.

The first match was an Oja match, simple to follow: the first to throw their opponent out of the ring three times would be the victor. It was between two Akilaling, or as Katalia pointed out, Karohara. They were about a foot shorter than regular Kin like him, Olav, or even Katalia. Their wings, neatly tucked behind their backs, were a mixture of black, white, and gold, while the head, chest, and the rest of bodies was a glossy black. Their faces, arms, and legs were bright red.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. A classic father and son duo bout,” Tai clapped his hands together.

The father was introduced as Rao de Fuego while the son was Joa de Fuego. Both wore similar gear: tight glossy pants – Joa’s were red, and Rao’s were gold. Their chests were bare, but Joa wore white arms sleeves up to his elbow.

“Pay attention,” Tai said to Izai. “You’re Essence Kin. Could learn a thing or two from the SolarFrost Pushing masters.”

Izai sat upright and focused on the match. The Karohara duo bowed to each other before beginning the fight.

Tai leaned in, “All SolarFrost Fighitng Arts are based on striking. Your Essence is designed to maximize getting close and striking. MegaTaurs usually go for punches because they’re terrible with their legs. Kin like you, your bodies are designed to maximize punches and kicks. Akilaling, with their flexibility and more Push Essence, use all limbs, including elbows and wing tips.”

Izai knew that Kinling had more Push Essence. His father had told him it was double that of a regular Kin’s, but at the same time their Pulse was half as weak. “So if you ever tussle with a Kinling,” his father would say, crouching slightly and shadowboxing, “always hit em close.” Later, Izai would learn that MegaKin had double the Pulse Essence but their push was half as weak as regular Kin.

In the ring, the Karohara duo exchanged blows, trying to create space. After a jab, an attempted kick, and a failed spinning elbow, Rao grabbed his son around the waist from behind. He Pushed fire from his feet to lift into the sky, attempting to throw his son over his shoulders mid-air. But before touching the ground, Joa Pushed Fire to propel himself back in the ring.

Joa took the momentum, soon eliminating his father three times. First, a swift kick to the ankles sent Rao off balance, followed by a Solar Push to the chest that made the stadium momentarily bright as day. The second elimination was after a failed spinning kick was grabbed by Joa who them proceeded to slam him low outside. The third involved Joa leaping into the air, wrapping his legs around his father’s neck, before using shifting his body weight down and sending Rao tumbling to the outside.

After the match, the Karohara father and son spread their wings in pride and took a bow.

Izai thought to himself: Karohara fighters enhance every move with Pushing. A punch would have traces of Ice, a kick trailed by Fire. He lightly Pushed Fire into his palm, feeling it come out slowly, unlike the instantaneous Pushes from Rao and Joa.

The next match was a Bili match. The young GaleStones returned to make additional adjustments to the platform, adding small circular platforms to each corner of the hexagon ring. They coated these platforms with the liquid Earth-Sap before binding it.

The match featured two Folk duos. Izai and Olav didn’t recognize either team members but noticed that one of the women, a Hanu like Izai, was being mercilessly booed by the crowd.

“Ah, Zinaye Zauya,” Tai pointed out. “She’s from this great Republic you know. Well, she was from here until she married that Kinayi prince.”

“They hate her for that?” Katalia asked.

Zinaye slowly sauntered toward the ring, draped in a magnificent golden robe with a long, flowing train that extended for yards behind her. She seemed to relish the displeasure she was stirring among the crowd. Once she was in the ring, she Pushed an ice ball towards the stands. It was expertly neutralized by the junior fighters stationed in the stadium to handle any stray Pushes.

“I’d give anything for a Folk princess to whisk me away from all this,” Olav chimed in. “I could be attending balls and galas all over Iradi right now,” he added to himself.

Katalia explained the match rules: Two teams of two would face off, but only two fighters could be in the ring at a time. Their partner had to wait in the holding circle, which the young Galestones had just constructed. The two fighters in the ring would battle until one was forced to stand on the holding circle, allowing their partner to enter. The goal was to give the opening teammate enough time to recover to finish the match. That’s how Izai understood it.

“So, no eliminations?” Izai asked.

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“You can win by Mercy Call or Cell-Lock,” she replied. “But most fighters go for Cell-Lock nowadays,” she sighed.

“I agree,” Tai responded. “Utterly irresponsible.”

As the match progressed, the fighters traded blows and Pushes. Izai was more intrigued by how the crowd never let up on Zinaye Zauya. Throughout the match, while she stood in the holding circle, they sang songs of derision. When she entered the ring, they booed every time she landed a strike and cheered when her opponent did.

A referee entered the match rather suddenly to separate the two fighters. Izai felt Katalia’s feathers shiver for a moment, as she scuttled forward in her seat. “Please, just end the match, she said. “There’s no need for Cell-Lock every damn time.”

Zinaye Zauya, whose movement had been looking slower and slower by the minute, agreed to end the match, to a split Yimani response: some cheered at her defeat by Mercy call, while others booed, disappointed that the punishment hadn’t gone further.

‘Every war, every war

Every battle, since Dominion War

Republic for the Folks

Coalition for the Tyrants’

They sang this as she left the arena and headed backstage. Izai had only ever heard this song when the Yimani SolarFrost Saints faced the Iradi Imperial Coalition’s SolarFrost Celestials.

A few more matches followed, mostly Oja with only one other Bili match. As Izai watched, each kick, punch, pirouette, slam built tension in his body that was only released when the final bell rang. In the last match he saw, a Taurling – or Koris as Katalia pointed out – position himself beneath a stumbling Akila’s beak. He jumped into the air and headbutted the Akila, whose head was framed between the Koris’ long black horns as they both soared about six feet into the air. The Akila went even higher before he began his descent down to the ring. Just before the Akila landed, the Koris Pushed a ferocious crackle of lightning towards him. From where Izai was sitting, he could feel the hair on his arms stand on end, as well as Katalia’s feathers slightly raise. The Wood Push ousted the Akila from the ring for the third time.

The entire platform was now being reconstructed. The crew had come out again, and Tai felt the need to point out that the GaleStones were all fighters. “They are in the 1st Dominion Phase.”

The new ring was now fit for a Tatu match. A rectangular platform stood in the middle, about forty feet in length, with a triangular section on either side, each about twenty feet in length. It must have looked like a double-ended arrow from above.

“Yes,” Tai rubbed his hands and leaned forward with a slick smile on his face. “Pay attention,” he turned towards Izai and Katalia, “this is where your future lies.”

But before the match could happen, the announcer came out again. “Someone would like to say hello,” the old man spoke to the crowd.

Out came a MegaTaur, or a Pelfrio as Izai tried to recall the proper term now. She was of Keranas descent to be exact, due to her lack of horns. Her coat was a less vibrant orange than the picture Izai remembered of her. Even her height of 7 foot 9 had surely diminished. Her back was slightly bent. She waved her tail to the adulation of the crowd.

She stood for what must have been ten minutes in the ring before getting a chance to speak. Every time the microphone reached her lips, the crowd cheered louder. “150 years,” she spoke, “150 years ago, Netai Kura, across the street from here, recognized the ability of Kai-Yo to unite a broken Iradi. She saw a healthy path forward, away from all the talks of atrocities that Kin had inflicted upon Kin in the Divine Wars, and towards a platform where Kin could face Kin, work out their differences and still shake hands at the end of the day. How proud she would be to see where that has led today.” The crowd applauded after she had finished.

“Too bad WKYE is going to eat them up soon,” Tai said shortly before Katalia smacked him in the back of his head. “You know it’s true. Without the WKYE, every Pulser would’ve been picked up by an Iron Blitz team.”

“That’s not true,” she rolled her eyes.

“Look around, kid. All the new blood is going to Iron Blitz or the WKYE. And what’s left here huh? The Geriatric Kai-Yo Alliance.”

Feedback rang through the arena. “Ladies and GentleKin,” the older man’s voice took on a sudden serious command. “It is time for your Main Event.” The crowd stood in anticipation, their chattering humming throughout the stadium. “This following contest will be a Tatu match, and it is for the Global Kai-Yo Alliance World Tatu Championships.”

Katalia plopped back into her seat. And then she leaned forward, her beak trembling with excitement.

First came out three Kin of Kaisita descent. Izai immediately recognized the one in the middle: Hana Haroyi. Her short greying hair had been slicked back. She wore dark glossy pants that flared at the bottom. Her crop top was white with the letters B.O.B written on it in red, as if it were blood trickling. On either side of her were Kaisita men. They each wore similar pants but were shirtless. They had long flowing white hair that bounced the light off it. The only difference Izai could make out between the two was that one had the look of arrogance while the other could barely keep his eyes open and walk in a straight line.

“What’s he on?” said Tai.

“And can I get some?” Olav’s words were audible for the first time that night.

“The Bastards of Boon,” Tai spat. “I can’t believe they are letting these lanky fucks run amok in this here great institution.”

“Actually,” Katalia pointed out to Izai and Olav, “it’s the Bulwark of Boon. Named after that collapsed wall in Pulapaini.”

Izai took a mental note of his Aradahi history to see if he could remember a wall in Pulapaini. All he could remember was the basics of Aradahi: the six gods fell from the great tree, led Kin into civilization, fought amongst themselves, split Kin into factions, and ever since then a great war would take place every century or so, followed by some peace treaties and some realm changing its name.

Hana Haroyi was the only one of the Kaisita trio who wore a title: the GKYA World Oja Championship. She lifted it in the air, and a smug smile fell on her face. The crowd was uneven. A quarter cheered for her, another booed, while the other half seemed content in joining whichever side was the loudest. She seemed to love it, though.

Izai remembered seeing her on television when he was a kid. Back then, she was with the WKYE. Her hair was a lot whiter then, brighter than the finest Solar Push he had ever witnessed. Her gear wasn’t always plain black and white. Sometimes it had floral patterns, and other times traditional designs from where the match was taking place. Back then, it seemed there was mutual adoration between her and the crowd.

The other team came through. Each Pelfrio waited by the entrance ramp until all three had lined up and walked down to the ring. In the middle was Titos Pericles. Everyone remembered Titos Pericles. He was a Mikotara, by the sight of the slight nubs of horns atop his head. His once curly and expansive blonde coat now clung to his body in patches here and there. He wore white and purple shorts – the colours of the Kara flag. His body was strewn with scars. Yet he walked out as if it were still two decades ago. On his waist was one of the GKYA World Tatu Championship belts, gold and rectangular in shape.

On his left flank was an even older Mikotara sporting similar shorts, this time with a reddish straight coat: Gaios Hekta.

“My dad says every time he got put up in an Oja match with Gaios he always found a way to weasel out of it,” Katalia said.

But the Gaios Hekta that walked out was older and clearly on his last hoof. He held one of the other belts, gold and triangular.

On his right flank was a Keranas with a shortly cropped black coat and a single red marking on his chest that formed a squiggly “X.” He wore white briefs with a similar red squiggly “X” at the back. He was larger than the other two, much younger too. Of all the fighters who had walked down that ramp, Izai was sure only Osarok Taiga had received a bigger ovation.

Katalia explained the rules of the match, and Izai could vaguely recall them from watching when he was younger. Inside the rectangular position, or the neutral zone as Katalia pointed out, two fighters would start. Their aim: to strike their opponent into their designated triangular zone, or peak zone as it was called. Once there, two other fighters would come in. One aimed to knock the other out of the Peak zone to the outside, while the other’s aim would be to last a minute before the time reset and they could return to the neutral zone.

The first to face off were Gaios Hekta and the slightly inebriated Kaisita, who Izai now learned was called Alon. Alon was clearly out of it; however, perhaps due to his younger age, good muscle memory, or divine intervention, he made quick work of the elderly Mikotara, dumping him not once, twice, but thrice into the Peak zone.

However, Titos Pericles in turn made the other Kaisita, Rami, look incompetent, not even needing to last the whole minute, as two out of three times, Titos smacked Rami back into the neutral zone.

From the stands, Izai could see Minos was angry. He was pacing back and forth, Pushing fire through his nostrils and a foggy ice seeping through his clenched teeth. He hadn’t gotten the chance to fight yet. Instead of Alon and Gaios going at it again for the fourth time, Hana Haroyi and Titos Pericles faced off.

The crowd stood on their feet. There were restless murmurs and chatters as the crowd, not fully believing they would actually get a chance to see Hana and Titos fight. By the time they stood opposite each other, the low hum of anticipation had erupted into excited cheers. There had been no sides to choose for the crowd. Everybody just wanted to see them fight.

“GKYA’s very best,” said Tai.

“… versus WKYE’s very best,” interrupted Katalia, now on her feet.

The two stared at each other, talking for a bit, before Hana backhanded the Mikotara. Titos reacted with a spinning elbow to the jaw, which properly began the match. Hana was light on her feet, constantly bouncing up and down, while Titos seemed stiffer, keeping his arms close to his face, his feet spread apart. He moved in shuffles while she moved in different ways, as if her body could twist and stretch in which way she wanted.

“That’s other thing I wanted to point out Katalia,” said Tai. “Are you utilizing your other abilities besides the main ones. I’ve never seen you elongate a limb.”

“I don’t know how to. My dad says it’s too risky,” she replied.

Hana contorted like a gymnast to deliver her blows. It was never a simple kick, rather a move that delicately started like part of sacred traditional dance before it struck with malice and precision.

“Titos is such a rigid Palimakia,” said Tai.

“He won some medals back in the day too you know,” Katalia responded. “Saw his old coach on television say that he was one of the few KY fighters to master the Pelfrio Fighting Art.”

“Note how,” Tai grabbed Izai’s forearm, “as a SolarFrost, it’s about closing in on that gap. RiverWoods like her, and also Katalia over here, thrive on keeping their distance and attacking at the most unexpected moment.”

Izai had noticed that every bout featuring MegaKin had featured the least amount of Pushing. The first instance he saw during this match was when Hana, just as she missed a strike, stretched her torso out of Titos reach, before stomping on the ground and Pushing a Vine that tangled Titos’ legs for a brief moment so she could create space between them.

Titos bobbed and weaved, trying to inch closer for an opening, trying to inch closer for an opening combo. Eventually, he got what he had been working for. A punch to the ribs, stomach, and chin sent Hana stumbling back towards the Peak zone before Titos faked a punch, which Hana tried to dodge, only to receive a left hook that shone with the brightness of the daytime Aradahi sun to her jaw. She fell into the Peak zone.

Immediately, she stood, smiled, mouthed something to Titos, and walked off.

Minos stepped onto the ring with an air of authority. He scraped the ground with his hooves and screamed towards the night sky. A bright orange burst of flame rose from his mouth to the sound of an impressed crowd.

Izai always knew that there had been people who could Push unconventionally, but this was the first time he had seen in person a Push that wasn’t done by any limbs, tail, or wings.

The crowd was eager as Rami stepped to face the Keranas. Rami’s body language already betrayed his fate. It seemed he wanted to get it over as quickly and as painlessly as possible. Izai counted seven seconds before Rami had received an uppercut that sent him careening into the air. As he fell down, Minos headbutted him out of the ring.

One thing was true now: Izai had fallen in love with Kai-Yo.