Rep and Zalan sat next to one another in the stone stands, watching the arena intently.

“It’s a lot of fun to watch. A lot less pressure. I can see how they pull such a big audience,” Zalan said.

“But… it is thrilling to win,” Rep admitted, embarrassed.

“Oh, for sure. Well, I don’t think I really got the thrill in the first fight. I was more confused than anything,” Zalan shrugged.

“To make it beyond the first match unscathed is already more than I could have prayed for. I thought I would be defeated immediately and have to suffer watching everyone else outclass me in the arena,” Rep said graciously.

Zalan looked at Rep with a raised eyebrow.

“You really didn’t have high expectations for yourself, huh?” Zalan asked.

Rep grinned and shrugged.

“Next up!” Umdarr called, spinning in place and striking a pose. “At a strong Level 7… The Vicious Vision… Verum!”

Verum stepped onto the arena with confidence in his face and stance. He looked up to the crowd and nodded to them, driving them wild with anticipation. Umdarr waited for the roars and whoops to quiet down before he continued.

“And on the other side of the ring. At a Level of 7… The…” Umdarr looked at the parchment with a scrunched face, then quickly recovered. “The Slaw… Slauson!”

Zalan’s heart went tight as he rapidly searched the audience for Slauson. He emerged at the bottom of the stone seating and walked with an aura of disinterest. He stepped up to the top of the arena. He raised a hand to the audience. They cheered for him loudly, but to Zalan it looked like he was trying to silence them with a show of his palm.

“Hang on… I know I recognize that name from somewhere… Slauson…” Rep said, thinking to himself.

“He’s the jerk who ran into me in that one city. Naverforth,” Zalan answered.

“No… it is from something else. I heard his name somewhere before then. I do not recall where,” Rep said, wracking his brain for an answer.

“Probably from a criminal or something stupid,” Zalan murmured.

“No, it will come to me,” Rep shook his head to himself.

“Fighters! A show of respect before you begin,” Umdar recited.

Verum placed a fist in his open hand. Slauson did an elaborate bow. He threw a flat hand in the air and lowered his body until his head was level with his knees. His arm was stretched out toward Verum, as though granting him the arena. The audience seemed disturbed by the display and Verum looked weirded out. Umdarr pursed his lips for a moment, trying to determine whether he should care to call out for Slauson to do the appropriate gesture. Slauson brought himself back to full height and waited patiently.

“You may begin,” Umdarr said, though he sounded somewhat irritated as he left the stage.

Zalan watched, leaning forward in his seat.

“I hope Verum destroys him,” Zalan whispered.

Rep looked at Zalan through the side of his eyes, a little concerned. He had a lot of unrequited antagonism for Slauson, despite only really having one interaction with him. But he felt like the comment was ultimately harmless and let it go.

Slauson and Verum moved toward one another, fists up in anticipation of any sudden Elemental blasts. Before they were within a distance to throw punches, Slauson broke into a wide stance with an odd pose. Verum slowed down at the sight, trying to read him. Then he stopped moving abruptly, his body stuck mid-step. The audience began murmuring. Zalan was peering closely.

“Why did he stop? He’s not even blocking any oncoming attacks with his stance,” Zalan said, confused.

Rep shook his head, not following what was going on either. Nold raised an eyebrow.

Verum began shaking in place. Zalan blinked, astounded. What was he afraid of?

Slauson stretched his fingers, an almost indiscernible wisp of flame peeking out of his hand. Then he clenched into a fist. Taking advantage of the still-unmoving Verum, Slauson charged forward and threw all his weight behind one punch. He struck his opponent square in the chest and Verum collapsed backwards. He gasped in pain and continued to shake on the floor.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“What did Slauson do to him?” Rep asked.

“I have no idea. Nold, what’s going on?” Zalan asked.

Nold was watching with narrow eyes, but shook his head.

“Slauson’s Element is Fire. I saw it come from his palm. I do not see why Verum would freeze up at that. Slauson must be very intimidating in battle,” Nold surmised.

Zalan sputtered, sincerely doubting that Slauson could drive anything but rage through anyone he was near.

In a few more seconds, Verum still gasping loudly on the floor, Umdarr declared Slauson the victor of the fight. Zalan ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. He couldn’t even gain anything useful from the fight. He had no idea what kind of fighter Slauson was.

The audience began openly booing Verum and Slauson as he accepted his prize money. It was insulting that Slauson didn’t open the fight with the proper gesture of respect. On top of that, the fight wasn’t exciting at all. At least Zalan had to dodge a few punches before he overpowered his opponent. Slauson ended it with a single attack, no exchanges. There were many expressing that Verum never should have entered the tournament in the first place.

Slauson left the arena with one last glance toward Verum, a troubled look in his eye. To Zalan’s surprise, Verum remained on the ground, his movements continuing to look odd and jittery. Umdarr kneeled down to speak with him. Zalan and Rep stood up, trying to get a better view of the downed fighter. Umdarr stood and waved for someone to carry him off the arena platform. He was hauled away on a makeshift stretcher.

“Seriously, what happened to him?” Zalan asked as he was taken to the doctor’s tent.

“A direct blow like that is not to be taken lightly,” Nold reminded. “But… I would think that he would still be able to stand. At least given a bit of time.”

“Perhaps Slauson’s punch ran flames through the inside of his body?” Rep asked. “Is such a thing possible?”

“It may be,” Nold shrugged. “I have never attempted to do so. To attempt to send flames inside Verum sounds as though it would kill him. If Slauson intends to win the tournament then there is no need to risk getting disqualified.”

“I don’t think he cares how badly he hurts people, disqualification or not,” Zalan said, watching Slauson take his seat toward the bottom of the seats. As expected, he sat alone. Zalan wanted to beat him even more. Drive his face into the ground and make him pay for what he did to another fighter. He had no idea who Verum was, but it probably felt awful to be so openly humiliated and then looked down upon by your opponent as they walked off stage. Zalan didn’t like that look at all. It increased his hatred for Slauson.

“When are we going to be able to fight him?” Zalan asked, cracking his knuckles.

Rep had a curious look on his face, then turned to Nold suddenly.

“Zalan and I were in the first two fights. Does that mean we must face each other in the next round?” Rep asked, nervous.

“Unlikely. You have not yet been entered into brackets. Right now, Umdarr draws names randomly and pairs them together. The brackets will not begin until there are only sixteen fighters remaining,” Nold explained.

Rep sighed in relief. Zalan was also happy not to be taking on Rep too early. If he had to take on Rep, he wanted it to be in the finals. Otherwise, he wanted himself or Rep to take Slauson down.

“When do brackets normally begin?” Zalan asked.

“This is already not a normal tournament,” Nold reminded. “If there was a Level 5 and Under, there would usually be no open fights before brackets. Level 10 and Under can have up to two rounds. But now, I assume it would be less than two rounds. Otherwise, they would not consolidate both the Level 5 and 10 sections together.”

The next set of fighters called up were an older man about twice Zalan’s age and another man about Zalan’s age. The older one was Level 9 and the youth Level 4. The crowd appreciated that the oldster didn’t outright destroy the younger boy, but it was clear he didn’t stand the ghost of a chance. The winner didn’t even have to reveal his Elemental ability to take down the younger one.

Zalan tried to figure out who in the crowd of viewers would be fighters and which would remain spectators. Looking around, he had no clue how to differentiate, even after having been in the tent with all the fighters. He was originally assuming that fighters would be something around his age, but now after seeing the most recent fight, he saw that anyone could be a fighter. There was even Trentor, the teenager. His eyes hovered over Slauson and Zalan stood up suddenly before the next match was called. He began walking down the steps.

“Where are you going?” Rep asked.

“I am going to the healing tent,” Zalan said.

“Why?”

“To check on Verum,” Zalan replied.

“Is that so important? You will miss the next fight.”

“I know.”

Rep considered this, then shrugged to himself.

“I will come with you,” Rep said, following.

Zalan had wanted to check on Verum alone, hoping to see if he could coax him into giving him tips on what Slauson did during their fight. He was worried that Rep coming along with him would make Verum less willing to speak. He probably didn’t want an audience immediately after losing his first match. But Rep was a sympathetic enough guy. Maybe he would be useful in getting information out of him.

Umdarr called upon the next two fighters as Zalan and Rep made their way to the tent. They couldn’t hear anything about the fighters names, titles, or Level. As they entered, they were surprised to see how full it was. They knew that Nold had brought down people from the top of the canyon, but didn’t realize how many people had been left incapacitated.

“Are you hurt too?” Doctor Quill looked up at them as they entered.

Rep and Zalan shook their heads.

“Thank God. I hope you two have Elemental powers. I need your help. Now!” she waved them over.