By the time Raff reached the stadium, he was exhausted, and his chest burned like someone ran him through with a hot knife. He’d had close calls before, but seeing pieces of his own bones on the ground really brought this one home. He was almost thirty years old. Maybe it was finally time to stop chasing after adventure and go back to his family.
The laugh sent sharp agony stabbing through him, but it felt good. The muscles he’d tensed against the ache in his side relaxed a little, and he thought the lousy potion he’d nabbed from a stall on the way might finally be working. Those guys were just selling apprentice-level stuff at master-level prices, and they had zero shame about it. He couldn’t even blame them. He’d bought it, right?
The pretty brunette waiting in the hall raised her brows at him. “Big Bro Gravy, correct?” She held out her hand for his papers.
He grinned. It wasn’t up to his usual level of captivating charm, but he’d almost died an hour ago, so it was good enough. “You remember me.”
She sniffed, but there was a hint of a smile around one corner of her mouth. “I remember the name. They already started, so you’re just lucky they haven’t called you yet.”
Damn. They must have finished the spear throw early. Made sense, though. How many people specialized in throwing pointy sticks really hard? Give him a crossbow any day.
“Three, right?” See, he wasn’t just a lump of muscle. He remembered things.
She shook her head, the little smile vanishing as a crease formed between her brows. “Several people haven’t shown up today. They decided to put you all in room five instead of splitting you into two groups.”
He frowned back. “People who won their matches yesterday aren’t here today? Why not?”
She gave him a look. “Ask them. The officials think they were frightened off by the incursion and then the escape at the mage college.”
His brows went up. “Escape?”
She glanced to the side, then leaned closer. “They say some of the mages caught a bunch of salamanders and took them back to study. They got loose, and that’s what caused the fire. Then some pipes broke and filled the Cliff with the runoff from the rain.”
Above them, the crowd broke into wild screams. A bout just got exciting, or maybe a favorite won. Either way, it meant he needed to move.
“Thanks, ah-” he hesitated, waiting for her name, and the smile returned.
“Aimee,” she told him. “Good luck, Big Bro.” Now she was definitely laughing at him, and it was a good look on her.
“Thanks, Aimee.” Raff tried the grin again, and this time it felt more genuine. With a wave, he vanished down the passage, reading the signs on the doors until he found one marked with a five.
He felt the lingering smile broaden as he remembered how proud Blue was when he was actually able to read the numbers for himself. Then he shook his head as he pushed open the door. He was still conflicted about leaving the former kobold and his lizard to haul the baddie off by themselves. Raff was sure Blue could handle the guy if he started to wake up, but he was less certain the lad would be able to get an unconscious man through the streets without someone noticing, with or without his dragon’s help.
A wall of scent and sound smacked into him as he stepped over the threshold. By this time of day, the room had been filled with people for hours, and many of those people had been sweating either in the heat or from previous battles. They were also talking to each other in a way the teams didn’t, either chatting about other matches or sending thinly veiled gibes at each other, depending on their personalities. Raff tended to be chatty, but there was a place and time for taunts, as well, and this could be it.
They all looked at him, startled by the late appearance of a final competitor. Several grimaced unhappily, but it was a short, squat fella with a good bit of dwarf blood who explained why.
“They told us somebody wouldn’t have to fight, since there’s an odd number, and here you are, you ingrown hair on a pig’s arse,” Theobold said cheerfully, his voice loud enough to make a few of the others wince. He didn’t seem to understand the meaning of ‘inside voice’, which made sense, because as far as Raff knew, he’d grown up under a rock. There was certainly enough moss in his beard to lend credence to that theory, anyway.
Raff stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around. “Sorry, could you repeat that? Something just exploded nearby, and I think I went a bit deaf.”
Theo’s laughter was even louder than his speaking voice, but Raff didn’t mind it. Raff just met him the day before, when they were both waiting for their bouts to be called, but the man just seemed to be one of those people who didn’t have a grumpy bone in his body.
“They’re running them slow as snail butter today,” Theo went on. “Trying to stretch it out, y’know? Good thing for you, though, Little Bro.” He laughed again, and this time Raff joined in, even though it made his ribs hurt like they were coming apart all over again. Theo was at least two feet shorter than Raff, but a good bit older, so he’d turned Raff’s nickname back on him.
The door opened again, and this time a stranger poked his head in. “Cooliahmus and Justice, you’re up.” He sounded bored, and didn’t even bother responding when Cooliahmus tried to explain that his name was pronounced ‘Kul-ee-arms’. Cooli-Kulee and a brawny woman followed the man as he walked off, leaving Raff, Theo, and four other people Raff vaguely recognized from the day before.
One of these, a truly enormous man with a single stripe of thick green hair running down the middle of his scalp, stared at Raff belligerently. Raff sighed. He was pretty sure he knew what was coming. Sure enough, the man walked over, stiff-legged, like a cat who’d just seen a dog wander into its territory.
Raff probably should have waited for whatever was going to come out of his mouth, but he was just tired. He was tired of playing nice, and he was sure as Pellis’ puny pickle tired of pretending to be something he wasn’t. If he had his Adamant Reach badge on, this guy never would have met his eyes, much less tried to loom over him. Of course, he also wouldn’t have been here, because there was an unwritten rule that members of the local guard and mercs didn’t fight in the open-year tournament.
Stolen story; please report.
So Raff punched him. He didn’t even put a lot of force into it. He didn’t know how much mana the guy had, though he almost had to have some in order to have made it through two rounds. He might just have a magical axe and have gotten lucky, though, so Raff just pushed enough of his own power into his fist to lift the guy off the ground a few inches.
When the big man’s feet returned to the floor, he staggered backwards, spitting blood, wide-eyed and furious. Raff gave him a little grin, but not the one that said he was just a nice, friendly guy. “I saw a bug,” he said, almost gently. The man paled, swiped his forearm across his lips, smearing red across his cheek, then turned and walked away, full of offended dignity, but smart enough to know he shouldn’t push Raff any further.
The remaining three people stared at Raff, and even Theobald had a look on his face that said he was reconsidering a few things. Raff just didn’t have it in him to care, though he probably would later. Instead, he walked as far away from the others as he could get, tried not to look like he was leaning against the wall, and began to refill his mana pool.
As always, the rush of power was enough to fill him with warmth, chasing away pain and fatigue. Unfortunately, as soon as he stopped, it would come crashing back in, all the worse for the temporary respite. He was lucky that he could continue gathering mana even while he was moving, which was a rare skill outside of mages. Unfortunately, it was that constant thrill of power that caused mages to be arrogant and overconfident, led on by the seemingly infinite mana that lay just beyond their skin, so Raff was careful to stop as soon as his mana pool was full, rather than continuing to attempt to take in power he had no place for.
A riot of sound broke through his concentration, and Raff managed to open his eyes when the door creaked a few minutes later. It was time for the next match, and somehow he wasn’t surprised when the man called his name. He was, however, surprised when the universe matched him against Theobald and not the green-haired man. He didn’t have the energy to give a good fight right now, and whalloping the big man would have been nice. He didn’t want to disrespect Theo like that, though.
It seemed that Theo was thinking along the same lines, because when they got to the first gate and their guide finished droning out the rules, the short man stopped and looked up at Raff. “Seems to me you’re having a rough day, my friend.”
Raff sighed, then immediately regretted doing so. The boost from gathering mana was wearing off, leaving him in even more pain, if possible. “Yeah. Not my favorite day ever.”
Theo nodded, plucking a bit of moss from his beard. He began to chew on it, then pushed it into his cheek with his tongue as he said, “I don’t want to find myself on the wrong end of a bug, but it doesn’t feel right to just bow out. Would you be willing to dance with me for a bit before you knock me out of the ring?”
Their guide looked between them, eyes narrowing. “You’re not talking about throwing the match, are you?”
The dwarfish man grinned, all innocence, and said, “Nah, ‘course not. Just that Little Bro here hates bugs, and I want to make sure he doesn’t think there are any on me. I just had a bath last month, y’know.” He scratched idly at his arm.
Raff barely managed to hold back a laugh. “Well, obviously you’re clean as Pellis’ shiny hiney, then.”
“Too right,” Theo said before stepping into the alcove leading to the gate. He pulled the single biggest axe Raff had ever seen out of his storage device and began to swing it around, limbering up as he pointedly ignored the other two men.
Raff silently gathered as much mana as he could on the way to his own gate, then pulled out his weapons as well as the breastplate of his third-best armor. All of his equipment had taken a beating in the mountain, and this one had a dent he hadn’t quite managed to get out completely. Most importantly, however, it didn’t have a guild symbol on it anywhere, since it was meant to be worn with a set of pauldrons that did carry the symbol.
When the gate went up and his name was called, Raff walked out onto the sands without any of his usual showmanship. He was using his smaller axe, a miniature battle-axe made to be wielded one-handed. Honestly, Raff bought it because it was funny, not because he had any intention of ever using it, but today was the day. If this wasn’t an axe competition, and he wasn’t up against someone he liked, he just would have come out empty-handed and thumped his opponent on top of his head until he stopped moving.
The crowd obviously didn’t know what to make of him, so when Theobald came jogging out, carrying an axe as tall as he was, they cheered wildly. Theo made the most of it, swinging his weapon so hard that the weight of it all but lifted him into the air, allowing him to kick out at somewhere close to Raff’s head height. Raff grinned at the sight. On any other day, he would have had a lot of fun trading blows with the other man.
Theo spent his minute of prep time showing off for the crowd, which drew several gold coins down around his ears. A few even plinked off of his helmet, causing laughter to ripple through the crowd as the short man grinned and pretended to stagger.
Raff, on the other hand, spent his time pushing mana into his hands and skin. There were words to the spell he used, but he’d discovered long ago that if he held tight enough to the picture of himself with light surrounding his body, he didn’t really need them. He used them, of course, because a common merc who could cast spells without speaking was a merc who would find himself closely watched by people he didn’t want watching him, but sometimes he hurried through without worrying about the proper pronunciation. Today was one of those days.
“Begin!” the announcer yelled, and gouts of dust formed behind Theo’s feet as he hurtled toward Raff. Normally, Raff would have played along, but today he just settled his feet into the earth more firmly and held up his two-pound axe. He’d poured all the mana he could spare into it, and he’d be willing to bet that if Blue was there, he’d say it was glowing.
The blade of Theo’s axe was larger than Raff’s weapon, handle and all, but it stopped dead when it met the relatively tiny blade. Raff turned it, catching the other man’s blade against the butt of his little axe, and gave a gentle tug, almost but not quite pulling it from Theo’s hand. The short man’s eyes widened, and he nodded. Raff had won, the crowd just didn’t know it yet.
Theo bounced around like a child’s ball, giving quite a show while not requiring Raff to do anything more than turn his axe aside. They stretched it as long as Raff could bear, and then he stepped into the arc of the huge weapon, allowing the enormous axe blade to skim along his shoulder as he bent to the side. His ribs screamed in protest, but Raff ignored them as he took hold of Theo’s wrist and squeezed.
The axe fell, thudding into the dirt beside Raff’s foot, and he almost laughed as he realized he could have lost a toe in the last second of the bout. That would have been embarrassing when he had to ask Blue to reattach them later.
Theo looked up as Raff looked down, and the two men grinned at each other before Theo pulled back, clutching dramatically at his wrist. Raff was sure it hurt, because he hadn’t been gentle, but he was also certain it wasn’t broken.
“Winner! Big Bro Gravy!” The announcer continued, but Raff ignored whatever else he had to say as he turned and trudged back to his open gate. First, he was going to get something to eat, maybe find a few more potions, though it wasn’t a good idea to drink too many of the cheap ones in a row. Still, one more and a few to stash wouldn’t hurt. Then he’d make his way back to the spice district to check on Blue and the others. Maybe they’d managed to get something from that-
Pain tore through his head, and the lights went out.