Chapter 36

Boni couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He hadn’t been able to get to watch Hartie’s first match, the viewing room preferring to show Dawkins fight instead. It had been a short thing. Then they went through all the other fights. By the time they made to his arena, Hartie’s fight was over. And the only thing they knew was that he had won. Being the only member from their town, albeit a new one, his matches had become a priority then, and he hadn’t disappointed.

The quarterfinals had been a close thing. Boni would openly admit, if asked, that he had called it a loss. And then Hartie had gone and snatched a win for himself. And he was now in the semifinals, holding his own like a regular fighter. Boni would not admit to being biased for Hartie, not to anyone. He had seen him mature through the fights, getting better in each fight he was in. He had even managed to hold out without his staff, going so far as to immobilize his opponents staff.

That’s when things had gotten messy. How long had they being rolling around the arena for? Minutes? More? But then Hartie had come out on top, punching his opponent so fast Boni couldn’t tell how many punches he had delivered before he was put under himself. Boni had been about to call it a loss then, but the headbutting began. He wasn’t sure who had passed out first, that was all that mattered, and the announcer was taking their sweet time announcing the results.

“He is through,” his father beside him said.

“We don’t know that,” Boni argued. He wanted that to be the case, but it could have played out differently.

“At the end, he was the one attacking. Besides, she was already out by the time he stopped,” his mother said on his other side. Coming from her, it had more weight.

“Any other ruling would be unacceptable,” Silas added.

“I didn’t think you cared,” his mother retorted. “I remember you grumbling when we came for the first match. Come to think of it, you haven’t grumbled again at all since then.”

“The more he wins, the more I get to see him be beaten up. We all win, what’s not to like?”

Boni tuned them out, as much as he could, sitting between them. He berated himself for not letting them sit close together. The viewing room wasn’t that big, and Boni didn’t know what its measurements were, but he knew that it could hold around eight hundred people, with all of them sitting close together.

The viewing screen was located in front of the room. It was made of a glass, stretching from wall to wall and high up that everyone could see it clearly no matter where they sat. They were sitting near the front of the room, having come early for the fight, at least it hadn’t affected their time in the farm. The others had, but they still came to watch.

The healers had finally cleared the arena as the announcer came back.

“After much deliberation, not that I think there needed to be any, our judges have come up to a conclusion. Your winner for the second semifinal iisss…”

Boni hated it when the announcer did that, much preferring to have the news and be done with it, it was torture otherwise. He held his breath nonetheless, nearly getting to the edge of his chair as he waited for the announcer to give the name for who had qualified for the finals.

“HAAARTIIIE!!!”

And Boni fell down. It took him a few seconds to realize what the announcer had said, the two names sounded the same; Artina and Hartie. He looked at his father, but he was his usual grumpy self, so he turned to his mother, and she nodded at him. Hartie was in the finals. Not only that, it hadn’t been said officially, but Boni knew that he had more than assured himself a spot in the Counties.

…

I woke up feeling as beat up as I remembered, my body was sore all over, every movement I did was a struggle. The more I tried being cautious, the more painful it got. I hated every second of it, and for the thousandth time, wished that I hadn’t qualified so high. The first two rounds were worth it, everything after that was just torture. And the amount of golds they were offering felt like a slap on the back. Learning that I had won the fight was a bitter-sweet truth, it did nothing for the pain going through my body, but it would at least help me recover the full use of my right hand.

Supper was a short-lived affair, and my group of friends did well in keeping the curious overzealous fans away from me. And then it was to bed for me. As much as I wanted to get my hand treated, I didn’t think my body could go through another healing session. I didn’t want to test whether a healing session could kill someone, Paul’s wife illness was still fresh in my mind, reminding me that not everything was magically curable in the Realm of Mesily.

…

I was running through a forest, and for the first few seconds, I enjoyed the feel of the cold humid air rushing past my face as I dashed through the trees, jumping over roots and fallen branches. I couldn’t remember the last time I had run like that, enjoying myself without the pressure of a competition or the threat to my life. It was exhilarating, so much that I tried raising my hands and running them through the foliage I was rushing through. That’s when the reality of my situation hit me, I wasn’t in control of my own body.

I felt myself panicking then, but I couldn’t really be sure whether it was me panicking or the body I was inhabiting that was in panic. On top of the strained breathing, the heightened heartrate and general sense of flight, there was an underlying sense of fear coursing through my nerves, fear that felt primal to my core. My life was in danger, that was the only possible conclusion.

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The previous exhilaration was long forgotten as I tried my best to make the body move a little bit faster. Then a stray thought reminded me that the body I was inhabiting could be rushing towards danger and not away from it. I tried to stop it then, for us to have a proper discussion on what was the proper course of action given the information we had at our disposal, which was nothing for me. As much as I thought it wasn’t really my body, I couldn’t be sure that I wouldn’t end up dead when something happened to the body.

But my efforts were in vain, as I felt the body keep rushing through the forest unhindered. I gave up trying to control it and decided to try and gain information on my surrounding. After a few seconds, a new sense of dread coursed through my nerves, the forest, it looked familiar somehow. I had seen no forests in my previous life, and the only forest I had been to in the Realm of Mesily was the one I woke up in. Was I being chased by one of those giant caterpillars that had terrorized me on my first day in Mesily? I hoped not, but then it could be something worse, after all, I was definitely scared.

Just then, I felt myself dodge as a silver projectile whished past my head. I didn’t get the time to analyze what it had been as I was taken left, then right, as my body tried to evade even more projectiles. It was worse, way worse. I was being chased by something, or somethings, that had as much intelligence as I did. The fact that I was already running away from them meant that I was clearly at a disadvantage. I tried to console myself by thinking that I was merely leading them to a trap, that I would turn the tables and fall on them without abandon. But the primal fear coursing through me dashed that hopeful thinking in its infancy, there was no way I wasn’t about to get killed.

And as if to bring that point home, I got hit by one of those projectiles. Or maybe it was another kind altogether. It didn’t matter though, for I immediately felt something run throughout my body.

“Inku!!”

It took me a few precious moments to realize that I was the one that had altered that word. I was sure I had never heard it before, but I knew it was a swear word. I tried rubbing it off as unintelligent muttering from someone whose fate had been sealed, but deep down I knew, it was a word with a meaning.

Had my presence in their brain, or wherever I was, a distraction? Was it the reason they had been hit? I would never forgive myself if that were to be the case, but I couldn’t be blamed either, it wasn’t like I had chosen to be there in the first place.

Minutes stretched on for what felt like hours as we, me and the mysterious body, rushed through the forest evading and dodging what I assumed to be my would-be pursuers. I tried glazing back to see who and how many of them there were, but the body never did comply. We avoided getting hit again, but I could feel the body’s strength slowly ebbing out faster than I was used to in the fights. Either they weren’t used to this much running, or the projectile had really had something that was working against us.

I could feel the dash through the trees wasn’t as coordinated as it had been when I first arrived in the body, it had become more of a tumble through. I was no longer nimbly clearing the roots and fallen branches as I had been before, with the toes of my feet sometimes grazing the considerably high obstacles. The number of grazes from tree barks had also increased multifold, sometimes the rebounds from those more than mere grazes helping me avoid the constant foray of projectiles. My breathing had become hungered and more strained than before, and I was finally picking up the sounds of footsteps and brushes being cleared away by the pursuers, there were definitely more than one.

I finally got to look back, but I found myself tumbling down an incline before I could pick out any details of my pursuers. There might have been three, maybe more, but all that was forgotten as I felt the body hit roots and tree barks on the way down. I had watched enough shows to know what was waiting for me at the end of that incline; a large piece of rock that would knock me out unconscious, and the next time I woke up, I would find myself a captive of my pursuers.

…

When I woke up, I expected to find myself in a cell with my hands and feet tied together, and maybe a splitting headache from the hit to the head that knocked me out. The headache was there, but I wasn’t tied up, nor was I in a cell for that matter. Unless cells in the Realm of Mesily were equipped with state of the art furniture, and prisoners were afforded with the most luxurious bedding I had ever used in my whole life, all my lives.

It took me a while to realize where I was and the first thing that I checked was my face, nose and mouth to be exact, those had received the most extreme damage where I was concerned, all the others were secondary. A maimed arm was nothing compared to a maimed face, that was the first thing that anyone saw, and I really didn’t like having a maimed face.

Thankfully, everything was where it was supposed to be, as much as my hands could tell me. For a moment, I regretted not buying a mirror, but that was before I remembered my next big priority, and how much it would cost me.

I quickly went through my morning routine, pushing through the pain and soreness I could feel. I rushed to the dining area and quickly wolfed down my breakfast, enjoying every mouthful of it. A week hadn’t been enough for me to get over the deliciousness of the chapattis, and the Inn did prepare the tastiest chapattis I had ever had. Maybe they were just that much better in the Realm of Mesily.

The sun was up by the time I was done with breakfast, quickly making my way to the healer’s shop. I had a final to prepare for, and I needed the full use of my arms. I might have been fine with a second place finish before, but the healer’s bill was going to leave me penniless with just a second place finish. I needed more, a lot more.

My visit to the healer was excruciating beyond measure. Honestly, I barely remember what happened, besides the pain of course. I met up with Paul and the others immediately after and they decided to join me in the Junior Arena for my training session. I welcomed the input with open arms, I knew I would need it if I was going to win the finals. Oki had actually fought with my next opponent at the quarterfinals, he had firsthand experience, the kind one couldn’t get from just watching a fight.

We spent most of the time with them beating me up all the time. I actually never won any of the fights, even against Paul who had lost in the first round, not that I thought that made him any weaker of an opponent than the others. Of course, Oki couldn’t stop gloating about every win he took from me, saying that it made him feel like he was worth of being in the finals, I just knew he would be insufferable if my opponent actually won. Another reason for me to win the fight.

They even teamed up on me in an effort to try and replicate the kind of speed my opponent had displayed so far in the competition. Those were unbearable, and Lina just used them to bully me. I might have been the youngest in the group but that was uncalled for. She called it love, I called it torture; it couldn’t even be construed as training at all.

But in the midst of all that shenanigans, the dream was always in the back of my mind, just at the edges of my consciousness, never fully being a distraction but making sure I didn’t forget about it. And how could I, when it had felt more like a memory than a dream.