Zalan looked up at the large parchments with names and brackets drawn on. He pointed his finger across the names and tried to find his own. He frowned, puzzled as he couldn’t locate it.

“I’m not on here?” Zalan asked, annoyed.

“Well,” Rep tapped a finger against one of the names.

Zandar.

He would be fighting first.

“Right,” Zalan sighed, shaking his head. “I even told Umdarr my real name! I’ll have to remind him again. People out here are starting to think this is actually my name. Or really, that anything but ‘Zalan’ is my name.”

Zalan looked at the name next to his own and read “Moss.” He sounded familiar. Zalan tried to remember him, but he may have been one of the fighters that fought while he was in Doctor Quill’s tent.

“What do we know about this guy?” Zalan asked.

“We met him in the tent when the brackets were changed out from under us. We exchanged information about Dimak. We have not seen Moss fight,” Rep replied, staring at his name on the bracket. Rep was going up against Liv.

“What about her? You ready to take her on?” Zalan asked.

“She will be formidable.”.

“You got this,” Zalan assured him, tracking other names on the bracket chart. “Looks like if you win your next fight, you might take on Slauson.”

“Unless he loses to the next fighter,” Rep pointed out.

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be as fun as seeing you take him down,” Zalan replied.

“If I could,” Rep said uncertainly.

“We’ll watch his next fight closely and figure him out together,” Zalan said confidently.

Zalan waited at the foot of the stairs to the arena while Rep made his way back up to the seats. The arena gradually filled itself back to capacity, supported greatly by Umdarr yelling every minute or so that they would be starting soon.

“You there. Zalan,” someone called to him. Zalan was surprised to hear his name as he turned around.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Zalan said, recognizing the guy’s face.

“Hello, then. I am Moss,” the man reintroduced himself.

“I remember,” Zalan said. “Hey, Moss. We’re uhhh… gonna be fighting soon, you know.”

“I am aware. Would you like to exchange Elemental details before we go into the ring?” Moss asked.

“What?” Zalan asked, shaking his head slightly.

“I will tell you my Elemental Power if you tell me your own. We do not have to tell the others. And now it is close to the beginning of the fight. There is no time to prepare a counter strategy,” Moss said.

“Uhhh,” Zalan thought about it for a few seconds. “How could it possibly benefit me to tell you my power?”

“Because then I would tell you mine,” Moss said, smiling affably.

“Yeah, no,” Zalan said firmly. “I’m good.”

“Hmm,” Moss grinned mischievously. “A wise decision.”

“Uhh, thanks?”

“You would be surprised how often it works to ask novices for their power. They are usually so nervous. I suppose I have a good fight to look forward to,” Moss said, waving him off and heading to the set of stairs on the opposite side of the arena.

Zalan was amused by the interaction at first, then he suddenly felt like Moss had planted something on him. He shouldn’t be chatting so plainly with the other fighters when there was a cheater among them. He patted himself crazily, earning a few stares from the crowd. He then imbued his body and felt for anything off. Nothing. Zalan relaxed. Moss might have just been a genuine person.

“Are we ready for the Round of 16?” Umdarr called from up on stage. He didn’t even give the audience time to cheer before he immediately moved to introductions. “On this end of the stage is our Level 7 Menacing Marauder… Moss!”

The audience cheered excitedly for Moss. Zalan read this as him being a fan favorite this year. He suddenly wished he had seen Moss’s first fight. Then he denied that idea immediately. If he hadn’t been in Doctor Quill’s tent during Moss’s fight, he might have missed the opportunity to bring someone back from the brink of death. That was something his mom would be proud of. So he should be proud of it too.

“And on this end is our Level 5, the Dealer of Dragon Death…” Umdarr stopped for a long pause as he made eye contact with Zalan. Zalan could see the cogs turning in Umdarr’s brain. He was going to say “Zandar,” but knew that wasn’t his name. Umdarr shrugged apologetically and moved forward with his best guess. “Ziyard!”

Zalan’s lip twitched in disappointment and he shook his head slightly to Umdarr. Umdarr winced a bit, looking apologetic as Zalan took to the arena.

“Show your opponent the respect they deserve for making it to the Round of 16,” Umdarr declared.

Simultaneously, Zalan and Moss punched a fist into an open hand. Umdarr nodded at the two of them and jumped off stage with a blast of air.

“Begin!”

Zalan and Moss began moving slowly toward one another, closing the distance gradually. It was a much slower fight than Zalan’s previous one. He hoped they would all start with his opponent rushing in and revealing their power. Now he had to have a tense stare down. Zalan imbued himself, watching Moss closely for any incoming projectiles. Moss called out to Zalan as they grew closer.

“I thought you said your name was Zalan?”

“It is!” Zalan insisted.

“I saw Zandar on the bracket and just heard Ziyard,” Moss replied.

“It’s Zalan!”

“You seem to be the only one convinced.”

Zalan was first wondering if Moss was trying to get under his skin, but saw him struggling to hold back a smile. He was joking in the middle of a fight. It gave Zalan a new perspective on the man. He enjoyed the tournament for the sake of the battles.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“How good is your sparring?” Moss asked.

“I’m okay,” Zalan said, uncertain how else to respond.

“False modesty will be tested,” Moss said, rushing forward and throwing a punch.

Zalan deflected the punch and returned with a low kick. Moss moved quickly, jumping over the foot and trying a kick for Zalan’s head. Zalan leaned back and smacked the leg aside with his forearm. They both took a step back.

“Your light taps sting,” Moss pointed out, rubbing his leg. Zalan’s imbued hands were delivering electric zaps every time he deflected one of Moss’s attacks.

“You’re pretty good,” Zalan replied.

Moss was much more of the fighter that Nold had prepared him for. He didn’t feel that Moss was imbued with any power, so he had the slight advantage. Moss came in for another few blows. Zalan was able to deflect again, but felt he had no opportunity to go on the offensive. Moss was good at covering any openings and Zalan was left feeling like Moss had the upper hand. The crowd cheered for them, happy to see Zalan actually having to fight this time.

Moss took another break, taking a few nimble steps back and shaking his arms.

“It stings to hit you! What is that?” Moss asked.

Zalan shrugged. He was glad that even though he couldn’t get any hits in, he was still doing real damage to Moss.

“Your ambiguous shrugs make it seem as though you are uncertain of your own power. Your confident stance tells me you are proud of your ignorance,” Moss said.

“How could I be ignorant of the a power I’m imbuing myself with?” Zalan asked, irritated.

Moss grinned widely.

“So you are imbuing yourself,” Moss concluded. Zalan tutted his tongue, disappointed in himself for falling for Moss’s mind game.

Zalan’s opponent took a few more steps backward. Zalan kept close, not wanting to give Moss enough room to feel comfortable throwing Elemental blasts at a distance.

“You want more close combat? Fine,” Moss said, a smile growing on his face.

He stretched a palm out, away from Zalan. From within his hand, a straight stick of bamboo began to emerge. Zalan watched in horror as the bamboo grew to the length of a bat, extending from inside his hand. Moss pulled the stick out of his palm and held it like a staff. He was armed.

“No Artifacts! No weapons!” Zalan said, pointing to Moss like he caught him cheating.

“Elemental Powers of all forms are allowed,” Moss said, smiling.

“That was an Elemental Power? Wood Elemental?” Zalan asked, appalled.

“Plant, actually,” Moss corrected. “Would you like to tell me yours, now?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Worth a try,” Moss shrugged.

He stepped forward and swung his staff quickly, the air whooshing around it. Zalan leapt backward, feeling like he was fighting the Shellbacks again. Moss stabbed forward and Zalan smacked it down with his palm. The staff cracked under the combined strength of the hit and the lightning Zalan sent through it. Moss picked up the staff and stared.

“How do you do it?” Moss asked, amazed.

Zalan considered revealing himself and just zapping Moss with lightning from this distance. Moss was too quick, bringing the staff back down and swinging wildly at Zalan. All the nights of sparring with Nold came back to him. To take a single, full-on attack would mean failure. He kept his feet light, constantly moving out of striking distance and kicking or slapping away the staff if it ever got too close.

Moss got frustrated by his lack of advantage and brought the staff down hard toward Zalan. Instead of catching it, Zalan sidestepped the attack, and charged at Moss with an open palm. He was hoping to grab Moss’s shoulder and send a powerful shock through him. Instead, he grabbed on to a wooden log that grew out of Moss’s shoulder at the last moment.

With horror, Zalan realized that this was what it looked like to imbue yourself with Plant Elemental. He could grow plants from any point of the body.

“Close one,” Moss winked.

Zalan didn’t let it deter him, putting a strong bolt of electricity into the wood. He yelped and jumped back when he was met with searing heat in response. The wood caught flame.

“Ah!” Moss slapped at the flame growing on the wood at his shoulder. “Your power is Fire?”

Zalan brought a fist up towards Moss’s ribs. He was again met with a shield of a quickly-created plant. Zalan set it ablaze.

“Stop that!” Moss threw a handful of flower petals and pine cones in Zalan’s face, blinding him.

Even without being able to see, Zalan threw his arm forward to try and get another hit on Moss. This time he struck the side of Moss’s leg, zapping his body completely. Zalan was struck in the side of the arm by the staff. Zalan increased the jolt of lightning.

Moss went taught, then fell to the ground, his staff out of his grip.

“What is that?” Moss demanded.

He kicked Zalan away and worked on putting out the two fires connected to his body. Zalan rushed forward and grabbed the fallen staff. Moss had detached the pieces of wood from his body, leaving the fires to die out on their own. He rolled to his feet and saw Zalan standing with the other weapon in hand. Moss quickly created a new staff from his palm and held it at the ready.

“Looks like we’re both armed now,” Zalan said, smiling and gripping the staff tightly.

Moss smiled back.

“Ow!” Zalan yelped, dropping the staff. It had grown thorns out the side of it.

Zalan was annoyed by his lack of thinking ahead. Moss was Level 7. Zalan should have guessed that he could manipulate his Element even when he wasn’t touching it.

“I should have thought of this earlier,” Moss said, growing spikes at the top half of the staff he currently wielded.

Zalan picked up the staff he dropped at his feet lightly, making sure not to hurt himself by squeezing the thorns. Moss moved forward to swing. Zalan set his staff on fire by overwhelming it with lightning, then throwing it in Moss’s face. Moss used his staff to smack the thrown bamboo to the side and Zalan dove low as the weapon remained high. He grabbed a hold of Moss’s feet and sent a massive shock through his system. Moss dropped his staff again and fell back.

As Moss scrambled to try and get his bearings, Zalan jumped to his feet and placed his foot on Moss’s chest. Moss began growing a wooden shield out of his chest and Zalan sent a shock through it, causing it to burst into flame. He moved his foot and placed it on Moss’s stomach, sending another small shock through him. Moss twitched violently, and the fire at his chest blazed past the wood and began burning his skin.

“I yield!” Moss gasped. “I yield!”

Zalan immediately raised his foot off of Moss and slapped the fire at Moss’s chest to put it out. Umdarr jumped to the stage and blasted the fire with air, putting it out before it could do real damage to Moss. Moss closed his eyes gratefully and let his head rest on the arena and breathed hard. Zalan leaned over, on the verge of exhaustion.

“We have a winner!” Umdarr declared, pointing to Zalan.

The crowd began chanting, but they were a bit confused on what to say on Zalan’s behalf. It sounded muddled until it came as two separate names.

“Zandar! Ziyard! Zandar! Ziyard!”

“Even when you win, you lose,” Moss said, his eyes closed as he caught his breath.

“Happens to me a lot,” Zalan sighed.

“What was your power? Certainly it was not fire, otherwise you would not try to put it out by hand. I could not understand the energy even as you relentlessly sent it through me,” Moss said.

“I don’t know that I should say,” Zalan said.

“You do not trust me?” Moss asked, an eye opening to scrutinize him.

“No. I just beat you. Why would you keep a secret for me?” Zalan asked.

“Fair enough,” Moss nodded, closing his eye. “I was going to sell the information for coin.”

“Can you stand?” Umdarr asked Moss without sympathy. “Get off the stage.”

Moss nodded, opening his eyes to prepare for the task. Umdarr walked over to Zalan and placed 10 bronze coins in his hand.

“The prize money keeps going up?” Zalan asked, looking at the money.

“Given that you keep winning,” Umdarr nodded.

“Can you remember my name next time? Zalan,” Zalan said.

“Yes, fine, I will even write it down this time,” Umdarr promised. Zalan was skeptical, but satisfied.

As Moss struggled to his feet, Zalan scanned the crowd for children. He was able to locate the same kids he gave money to earlier, about halfway up the stands. They beamed at him, applauding cheerfully at his victory. He balled up his prize money in one hand and threw it powerfully to the kids. His throwing arm was very bad, and it began arcing downward far too early. The money landed among the lower stands to excited viewers clamoring for the funds.

“Hey!” Umdarr snapped. “If you want to start a riot, then do it off the stage! I have a tournament to run.”

“Yeah, fine,” Zalan made his way to the stairs as more diehard fans grew attached to him. They saw his skill in battle as well as his altruism. They cheered for him. Zalan only wished they would cheer for him by his actual name.