The first round of the Radecross Sports Arena ‘Crossroads of Combat’ Fighting Tournament soon came to a close.
The arena called for a short intermission before starting with the quarterfinal matches between the remaining competitors. Prior to the beginning of the tournament, Reina, Tyger, and Cain had all made an agreement to meet up with one another during this intermission.
Their meeting spot was a bench on the outside of the arena. Tyger was the first to arrive, guzzling down a sports drink while he waited. Reina appeared next, excitedly rushing over to Tyger with a few candies from the concession stand.
“Good job, Tyger! You were so cool!”
Tyger chugged down a gulp of his sports drink, partially to quench his thirst, and partially to cover a blush. “Thanks.”
The chameleon girl dropped down onto the bench beside him, kicking her legs back and forth as she tore open a bag of sour gummy worms. “When’s your next match?!”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a slip of paper, and passed it to her. Upon uncrumpling it, she read aloud, “‘Tyger. Next Match: Quarterfinal Round. Match 1. 11:30AM.’”
Handing it back, Reina began to jump in her seat, a bright smile carving itself into her face. “I’m so excited! It’s gonna be so fun to watch! You’re gonna whoop their butts like you did to that Johnny buttface!”
He paid her another awkward thanks, though he kept his eyes on the ground. He didn’t appear to be as confident as Reina.
“When did you get so strong?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Uh….Just….over the years, I guess?”
“I remember when you used to be really short and skinny!” she replied with a giggle.
“Agh, shut up!”
Off to the side, another voice inserted itself into the conversation. “I remember when he was a crybaby….Oh, wait, I don’t think that’s changed much.”
Cain approached the two, although, rather than join them on the bench, he opted to lean back against the wall like the cool, aloof guy he was in his fantasies.
Reina either didn’t seem to notice the jab, or opted to ignore it. She spun around in a circle to face Cain, offering him a smile that matched the one she had flashed Tyger with moments ago. “You did great too, Cain! You were so fast! And you beat that guy with his own sword-holding thingy!”
“It’s a scabbard.”
“Yeah, that!”
Cain’s red eyes glanced over at Tyger. He hadn’t joined Reina in turning around to face him, keeping his gaze locked onto the ground. With a smirk, Cain then said, “You’re looking pretty beat up there, Tyger. Can you handle competing in the next round?”
A growl rumbled within Tyger’s throat. “Course I can. This is nothin’.”
“Ah, don’t worry, Cain!” said Reina. “Tyger’s super duper tough! He won’t go down that easy!”
“I find that hard to believe, given how much trouble he had with that clown in the rollerskates.”
Tyger glanced over his shoulder, shooting Cain a glare for a fraction of a second before turning back away. “Piss off! It was just….just a bad match-up for me, that’s all. I hate fightin’ elementalists.”
Cain folded his arms across his chest. “A true fighter has no ‘bad match-ups’. His arsenal has a weapon for every foe, and his mind has a stratagem for every scenario.”
“Wow, Cain!” Reina cheered. “When did you get so cool and smart?!”
A lightbulb flickered on inside of Reina’s head, prompting her to dig into her bag and retrieve a marker from within. Both Tyger and Cain looked at her with visible confusion as she silently rummaged through her bag once more and then, upon failing to find the item she was searching for, her pockets.
“Aha! Gotcha!” she finally exclaimed. In her hand was the ticket for the tournament. With a smile, she held the marker and ticket out to Cain. “Gimme your guys’ autographs!”
Cain’s eyebrow curved up in skepticism. “Why?”
“Cuz when you guys become famous fighters, I can sell ‘em and get filthy rich!”
The boys both shook their heads in unison, but Cain ultimately obliged. Truth be told, Reina’s assumption that he would become a world-famous fighter was the biggest shot of confidence he’d gotten in his life in many, many years — maybe even ever. It sent a flutter through his heart that threatened to give way to a smile on his lips, but he held steady, keeping his face calm and collected.
He hesitated for a brief moment before starting his autograph. He’d never put much thought into his signature up until this point, but if he were to become a famous fighter, he’d certainly be scribing many, many autographs, and thus, it would be seen by many, many people the world over. It would become a reflection of him, crafted by his hand. Because of this, the autograph would need to encapsulate him. Encapsulate his essence as a fighter, and as a man.
It would have to look clean and professional, but not robotic and sterile. It had to have flair — a classy kind of flair that showcased supreme skill in the quality of the penmanship, as well as the sophistication in his taste in inks and calligraphic styles. Perhaps it should be based in cursive, as the singular, uninterrupted line would reflect his unfaltering confidence, and his soon-to-be perfect sequence of victories in battle.
Or perhaps he should incorporate some kind of insignia; some kind of recognizable marking associated with his name. It would provide an additional, visually-striking element to his autograph. Plus, if he were to make this symbol complex in his construction, it would further showcase his skill, his attention to intricate details, and-
While Cain was busy off in his own little world, Reina spun back around on the bench, holding out the bag of gummy worms towards Tyger. “Want some?”
He didn’t appear to hear her at first, but after she poked his arm with the bag, he snapped back to reality and grabbed a few gummies.
Reina cocked her head to the side as she noticed Tyger’s silent, floor-locked gaze. A familiar image. It’d been a long, long time since she’d last seen it, but she recognized it. This was the Tyger she remembered from their days in elementary school.
She reached over and gave him a big hug, although it was a bit of a struggle for her to manage fully locking her arms around his body. “Here’s your good luck hug for the next round!”
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
Cain, finished with his autograph, tossed the ticket and marker down onto the bench before walking back to the arena. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a tournament to win.”
“Hey, wait!” Reina called out. “You didn’t get your good luck hug! You might lose! Cain!”
The chameleon girl jumped up from the bench and raced off to make sure Cain received that oh-so-important good luck hug.
In the meantime, Tyger growled under his breath, pushing himself back to his feet. His body was still aching, but that was no excuse. This tournament wasn’t just for him to prove his fighting abilities after all; he was here to win the prize money so he could stop Mistral. To foil the terrorists’ plans and be a true hero.
As he turned to make his way back towards the arena, he caught something on the floor out of the corner of his eye. It was a piece of crumpled up paper that had been tossed onto the ground. Based on its positioning, it had obviously been left by Cain.
Gritting his teeth, Tyger swiped at the paper, yanking it off the ground. “Don’t litter, asswad! That’s villain shit!”
He glanced around for a recycling bin, but just before discarding it, curiosity called out to him, and he uncrumpled the paper.
‘Cain. Next Match: Quarterfinal Round. Match 1. 11:30AM.’
* * * *
ULTRA PULSE
* * * *
Zeo kicked off from the ground, rotating his body around in a compact circle. The maneuver allowed him to avoid the incoming bite of the dog-like beast that had dived for his ankles, and also gave him the ability to strike it from above.
Two quick slashes later, and the monster fell to the floor in a pool of its own blood. It appeared to be a much smaller and consequently less frightening version of the kaiju he and Tyger had battled against the other day. One of its spawn, perhaps.
As the sound of Annabelle’s excited clapping reached his ears, a smile broke out on his face. “That was amazing, Zeo!”
Chuckling, he replied, “Oh, c’mon, Annabelle. You’ve seen me fight plenty of times by now; there’s no way it’s still impressing you.”
“No, it absolutely is! I’d never get tired of watching you fight!”
Noticing the ever-so-faint blushing of Zeo’s cheeks, Kiria stepped in to keep him from getting overwhelmed with Annabelle’s lavish praise. When the young Lady was excited about something, she had a habit of tunnel-visioning on it. Kiria was fine with the two enjoying their time together, but she wasn’t about to let her chaperoning reach “awkward third-wheeling” territory. At least not while they were inside a maze of mountain tunnels.
“I have to agree. Your movements are very fluid. It’s almost as if you’re dancing when you fight.”
Sheathing his blades behind his back, Zeo nodded. “Makes sense. The style I use was created by one of the Blade Dancers.”
A predictable look of confusion appeared on Annabelle’s face, but surprisingly, even Kiria seemed to be in the dark regarding the topic. “Blade Dancers?”
“They’re the seven most elite swordsmen in the world,” Zeo explained. “People say their skills are so honed and their moves so perfected, that it looks like a choreographed dance whenever they battle.”
Annabelle’s eyes widened. “Wow!”
Zeo smiled. “It gets even better! Each of the seven developed their own unique school of swordsmanship, and when they formed the Blade Dancers, they made a bet amongst themselves: they would pass down their style to students they found worthy, and those students would pass it on further when they mastered it and so on. The idea being that, generations later, they can prove which Blade Dancer’s style is the superior one by the accomplishments of its students over time.”
“That’s a bit strange, but interesting I suppose,” said Kiria. “And which of the seven styles do you use?”
“Typhoon! Garo taught me!”
“Garo?”
Annabelle decided to answer Kiria’s question, perhaps as a way to show Zeo she paid attention to every word he said. “Zeo’s older brother! Remember him? He used to always pick Zeo up after school!”
“Ah, that’s right. How’s he been?”
Zeo shrugged. “Not bad, I guess. He got a job at the docks that pays a lot better than his previous work, so we were able to move into a pretty decent apartment.”
Annabelle frowned. “H-has money been tight for you, Zeo?”
The laugh that escaped his lips was an attempt at easing her concern, but the elven girl’s emotions stayed staunch. “When has it not been?”
Like many people tend to do when the topic of money and the reality of one’s lack of it came into play, Zeo shifted both the conversation and the trio’s walking path in another direction. This time, they crossed into tunnels that bore the yellow paint left by the city, signalling that they were now in a safe zone free of monsters. “So….what are your guys’ plans after this?”
Clapping her hands together, Annabelle said, “Oh! Oh! Could we please get Ulty’s again?! Reina said they have chicken nuggets shaped like bunnies! I really want to see them!”
That earned a chuckle from both of her companions. “My bad, Annabelle. I was actually talking about after our trip.”
“When we go back home after sorting out this Mistral business,” Kiria clarified.
The elven girl’s ears began to hang low at the thought. It’d been easy getting caught up in the excitement and fun of spending time with Zeo (oh, and, uh, the others, too, totally) and forgetting that there was a life outside of the moments offered by the past few days. But that life outside of this vacation was very real, and very, very different from “fun time with Zeo”.
“I’ll be going back to the Freiden Battle Academy,” Zeo said, offering up the first answer. “If you think I’m exciting to watch now, prepare to have your minds blown the next time you see me dancing with these babies!” He patted on the hilts of his blades for emphasis. “What about you guys? Anything big coming up?”
Kiria shook her head. “Not for me, no. Just back to Royal Guard duty.”
“Aw, c’mon, you make it sound so boring! I’m sure you guys do tons of cool stuff, right?”
“I suppose,” she replied. For a moment, she actually found herself hesitant in her answer. What was she going to do next? Obviously she had her duties as a member of the Quinah Family Royal Guard to go back to, but what about beyond that?
The only advancement in that job was to take on the role of Captain, which wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Kiria wasn’t among the senior members of the force, and the current Captain was young and perfectly healthy, as well as a good friend of Baron Xander himself. There were no other possible promotions, so had she hit her ceiling in that profession already? Having no path for ascension at eighteen wasn’t exactly the most exciting prospect….
She didn’t really have much of a social life either. She had a few friends, but they never really did anything more than go out to eat every other week. Perhaps it was time to search for a significant other? No, that was silly. “Acquiring” a significant other wasn’t something you could plan for, and she wasn’t particularly interested in dating anyway. She’d hardly have the time to spend with them even if she was, and not to mention, she didn’t really even know what she wanted in a significant other in the first place.
Rather uncharacteristically, Kiria was the one who had to be wrested back into the here-and-now. Shaking off those distracting thoughts, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”
It wasn’t asked to anyone specifically, since she had no clue who had been speaking before. The answer turned out to be Annabelle. “Um, since I’m of age now, I’ll be undergoing the Butterfly Trial soon.”
“Oh, yeah, you guys mentioned that before,” Zeo said. “What is it, exactly?”
Kiria matched his fixation on Annabelle, as the elven girl was the only one who could answer the question.
“It’s a ritual my family has. Basically, it’s how you earn the right to represent House Quinah.”
“Wow, sounds pretty important. What do you do in it?”
“The trial is different for everyone,” came Annabelle’s response. The flicker of her eyes towards the ground gave away her nervousness. “The previous generation sets it up, so my father will be crafting the trial to suit me specifically.”
Kiria felt a pang of worry hit her heart, but it dissipated in the same instant. One would normally assume a trial such as that would require some kind of deadly battle, or perhaps require one to undergo some kind of physical pain to prove their mettle. That was worrying because Lady Annabelle was not a fighter, and the most amount of physical pain she’d ever been forced to endure was when she fell off of a pony when first learning to ride one as a child, and the pony had been remarkably gentle about it, too.
But the very fact that Annabelle wasn’t a fighter convinced her not to worry about it. Baron Xander was not a cruel man; he knew his daughter was not a fighter, and would most likely structure this Butterfly Trial around some other type of test.
….Right?
“Wow, sounds pretty important,” Zeo commented, offering Annabelle a gentle pat on the head that caused her skin to match her hair in color. “But I know you can do it, Annabelle! You’ll pass that Butterfly Trial no problem!”
“Th-thank you, Zeo!”
“And hey, when we all meet up again for our next trip, you can tell me all about it!”
That comment interjected new life into Annabelle. The elven girl beamed in pure delight. “Our next trip? W-we’re meeting again?!” Kiria’s brows furrowed in skepticism.
“Of course! This’ll be our little Class G tradition!”