Chapter 8: The Concert of Combat
Of course, violence is not great entertainment to those that suffer it. These Iozians had the odd tradition of naming fights as ‘Sports’. It wasn’t bloodshed, it was ‘Entertainment’.
The Oligarch of Suncatch realized this, by applying bread and circus, he could distract them from his decisions relating to orphans and foreigners. Funny. The portrayal of the same events that created ghosts was allowing him to aid them.
His Gladiato Ultra would be filled to the brim with spectators. Separated by class, people would usher in to see the once in a year event. Being two hundred feet tall, and seven hundred feet wide, it was an engineering masterpiece. Tunnels underneath were operated by a cohort of workers and organizers. Pulleys and platforms allowed the transversal of gladiators and set pieces. An entire irrigation system was built for it. And soon it would be put to use.
Vega peered behind the curtain, seeing hundreds of people seated and conversing. It was overwhelming to her that so many people could exist at once.
“At least ya are calm-calm Kaliba.” The passenger bird showed a great degree of bravery. Unlike the other animals that took part in the event, it was unmoved and unabated by the crowd. It comforted her nervous soul.
“Here’s hoping this can pay Luiocles back-back. What was the prize again?”
“Five thousand gold-gold!?” It reminded her.
“Oh right.” She knew of the system of coin the Oligarchy operated on. Although it varied throughout the region, unskilled laborers earned one to four brass everyday. One could get them two loaves of bread, a few small fish, a sack of rice, a bag of beans, two gallons of cheap wine, or half of a gallon of quality wine. Four brass made one silver and twenty silver made one gold.
She looked at the coins in the prize chest. The images minted onto a coin differed as well. Brass had small soldiers, silver had plebeian Oligarchs or generals, and gold sported a fine and large showing of an Oligarch or spirit. On one she saw a diamond showing a member of the Marian family. Vega pictured the amount of faces, how many could so many even exist?
“This is amazing. But I need to focus. Luiocles asked for ten gold. But then again, I still need-need to pay the doctor for tailoring me a new shirt. Turns out hospital clothing is not covered by insurance. How much do ya-ya think that costs?”
“Gold-gold!?”
“Yep. It’d probably cost a thousand, at least.” The last gladiator fight had finished, as both exited bloodied but hyping up the crowd. She saw an orator stand beside the musicians.
There were several sections to the Gladiato Ultra. The closest to the action was the podium, helmed by the Oligarchs and their counselors. Second was the conductors, who were seated by the musicians and speakers. Third was the Equestrians, business owners, and aristocrats. Followed by the citizens, regardless of men or women. Then the Fifth, crammed by freemen, foreigners and the poor. There was no section for ghosts.
“Wonder-wonder. Who is going to be the Admirals?” The musicians finished their set and simmered, then the orator boomed. In the arena were Soul gems, placed on key statues and columns. With them his voice shot out, capturing everyone’s attention.
“Today, we bring to you a special performance. A look back into the past. Decades ago, the tyrant Oligarch Damocles brought his unbreakable Tankas to the border of the Tripolian Empire. Steaming through their pathetic fields, he cut and slayed any in his path. But on a fateful day, his troops had to cross the Zariahan Gulf. Admiral Zhang Ye and General Xuan begin the transporting of his troops.” The arena began to flood, a river of water poured in. And out of a tunnel, came two war ships. Men rowed around the oval arena, blobbing in the still filling space. Two people stood out to her. Lai and Chakrit were playing the commanders, and Chakrit had a faint complaint.
“I’m a Matigas, not a Kai-Ren. Why did I have to be Xuan?”
“Shut up Amber, just keep on with the show.” The musicians, with their trumpet and strings, sang a suspenseful motif.
“But their transporting of their troops would not be without conflict. As the Oligarch Zhou Itai had gone to backstab our beloved soldiers!” A gasp from the audience came, as another vessel entered, with a fierce set of entertainers.
“Zhou Itai, the craven, made a deal with the emperor of the Tripol. He would be granted power beyond mortals, if he managed to secure a victory against the navy. To battle with the noble Zheng Ye and Xuan. The loathsome traitor believed he could best our troops. And well, let’s see them in action!” The band picked, placing high emphasis on the trumpet section. The actor playing Itai picked up a torch and blew flame at Lai’s ship, as she used her costume’s cape to block it.
“Open fire!” Lai shouted, as the men took to flinging their blunted spears. They struck a few of the entertainers as they fell back into the water, where there were canoes ready to scoop them from the water. Itai’s actor stood unfazed, as he snapped his fingers. The ship's bridge harpoon, pulled by its operators, turned to the direction of Chakrit’s ship.
“Oh no! Itai plans to use his ship’s corvus on his former comrades! Oh, the inhumanity!” The orator cried, as a disapproving hum from the audience came.
“Well, the insentience!” A roar of laughter came from the audience, along with Vega.
“Ha! That's a-a funny word!” The bridge harpoon was just above the ship. Chakrit and his men took to holding it up, before it could activate.
“For the Oligarchy I fight, for the Oligarchy I die!” He monotonically chirped, very much not into the act. Some of the audience began to weep, wobbling in sorrow.
“How tragic! But what's this, the city of Cryhii?” A wooden painting rose up from the water, showing a couple of buildings and a statue. Along it was attached a wooden scaffolding.
“If our heroes can make it to the bridge, they’ll be saved!”
“If I make it through this, no one will save you.” Chakrit hissed to himself. Lai rubbed her chin and her eyes suddenly beamed.
“Men! Bring out the Black powder!” She shouted, soaking up the audience’s gasps and reactions. One of the actors came up to her.
“But sir, it's too dangerous, it might blow us up!” Lai, patting the entertainer on the shoulder, reassured.
“Don’t worry. I’ll do it!” Chakrit’s ship started to break apart, as workers threw buckets of splinters into the water. The entertainers acted to be struggling, while Chakrit was super bored.
“Oh no. The ship is going to break, whatever we will do. If only Itai wasn’t such an evil bastard.” He dryly read his lines, as Itai’s actor swung his sword wildly, preparing to jump onto the adjacent ship.
“Men. Use the harpoon to anchor onto Xuan’s ship! That’s the only way.” Lai’s men turnt the corvus, as she climbed onto the side of her ship. The corvus was an ingenious invention by the Sanguians, a boarding device designed to turn a sea battle into a land one.
The bridge harpoon pierced into the planks, as the actors frenzied around. The crowd was thrilled, and Chakrit stood still, tapping his foot on the ground.
“Men, hop onto the ship!” As a sweating actor clung to Chakrit, pleading with his brows.
“But sir! What about you? You can’t beat Zhou!”
“Nonsense, I will duel Itai personally!” His voice picked up, ready to do some action. Itai’s actor plunged into Chakrit, as they danced with blades. Itai’s choreographed wide slicing strikes, while Chakrit rolled around, barely dodging the attacks. The band horned on each missed hit, and stringed harmonies on whenever Chakrit poked Itai.
“Do you have the powder?” Lai held out her hand, quickly grasping, impatient for the prop. One of the actors tossed to her, and her face smiled devilishly. Itai grabbed onto Chakrit, pummeling his fist into his chest. Chakrit’s sour demeanor arrived again.
“Oh no. I’m getting my butt kicked. Whatever will I do?”
“Dear god! I can’t watch this!” A man yelped out of the crowd.
“Xuan is getting murdered! What will our heroes do?” The orator sang out to the crowd, as the musicians created a tense strumming.
“Hey Itai! What doesn’t breathe underwater? You!” Lai threw the metal ball into the air, as its wick burned with a rupturing sparkle. Chakrit shoved the actor backward, and ran towards Lai’s ship. Its harpoon pulled away, as he leapt into the air. His hand caught onto it, as he was suspended above the water. The ball landed and bounced to the lap of Itai’s actor, who let out a hideous cry.
FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATOMB!
Itai backflipped off the ship into the water below, as the flash from the explosion blinded everyone, except Vega.
“Man-man, I love this show.” The workers operating the ship drove back into the tunnels, as the crowd cheered.
“Our heroes have bested Zhou Itai! But what's this? They have no else to go except Cryhii Bridge!” A worker ignited a part of the mast on fire, struggling to use a torch for a time.
“Ther-there we go.”
“Ah. There remains still a fight to be won!” The orator awkwardly spoke. The two ships parked by the platform and climbed the ladders beside it. Which was just below Vega. She admired her new outfits, equipped with long strips of fabric, and a painting written on her saying “TORNADO”. The organizer nudged her back, and she shifted her eyes to him.
“Listen girl. You only got to swing that stick of yours three times, that's it, remember. Nothing more, nothing less. Got it?” She nodded.
“Swing the stick-stick when I’m called.” The organizer turned to leave as Vega spoke up again.
“Ya sure-sure nothing else-else?”
“Just don’t screw it up and you’ll be fine.” He reassured, hoping that his replacement wouldn’t try anything stupid. She winked, ready to do anything stupid. The actors below fought, swinging blunted blades at each other.
“Despite losing their leader, these guys are giving us a real fight!” Lai shouted, clearly enjoying the act more than Chakrit. The band became an orchestra, as the orator’s wine soaked tenor joined the composition. The fighting went up for a minute, with each threatening to push each of the platforms. A pair of trumpets broke through the combat.
“What’s this? A devil has joined the field!” A gargantuan steel wall rose from the mob of actors, with a smiling mask and feathered crest.
“I am Damocles! I like to kill people for fun! Did I say I like to eat babies?” An innocent, but hilariously squeaking speech came out from the monster.
“The tyrant Oligarch Damocles has appeared, thirsting for blood.” The wind section of the band whistled, sounding like a spinning storm.
“With his arrival came a great, horrific, and all consuming tornado summoned from depths of hell!”
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“Show time Kaliba!” Throwing open the curtain, she jumped up and soared into the air. Performing a barrel rolling backflip, she caught the audience’s curiosity, then their attention. Having a hundred feet to fall, she took to making poses to place the time, which got a few chuckles from the crowd. Kaliba circled around her, cawing out.
“Show time! Show time!” Landing between the parties in a perfect split, she swirled up, smiling her ever silly grin.
“I am Tornado! I am the mightest in all of the land!” The orator was horrified, along with the band. The audience however, laughed at this clearly comedic act.
The orator, looking through his script, decided to improvise.
“Y-yes, the tornado came with a voice from its many victims! And would soon claim both armies!” The band joined with him.
“You’re fat and smell like coins!” She loudly observed, mistaking the muscle of actor Damocles to be fat. The crowd joined in the mockery of the formerly alive Oligarch. Her eyes caught a tattoo on the neck of actor Damocles.
“Hey-hey! That's a pretty sweet tattoo though.”
“I know right! All the guys love it!” The actor of Damocles blurted out.
“...what?”
“All the ladies love it!” People in the audience dropped and curled up in hysterics. The organizer raised a new script to the orator, who read it to himself and nudged his head backward.
“You sure? Alright.” He whispered, concerned with the hastily changed script.
“The Tornado had been one of Damocles' old allies, out of the… many natural disasters he could summon!”
“Yep, babysat him as a kid-kid too! His favorite food is vanilla ice cream!” The crowd muttered.
“Amazing, I never knew education and entertainment could go together so well.” A woman told her friends.
Vega enjoyed entertaining others with her outrageous and bantering jokes. Her experience as being a mascot in fairs gave her a lot of material. Often too much material.
“He also loves sucking dic-” Lai slammed her hand on Vega’s face. The crowd was enchanted by this curious person.
“I can tell ya he likes plenty of white stuff.”
“Now, strike our enemies from this bridge!” Damocles' actor screamed, ready to get on with the show.
“Gotcha ya boss!”
“Idiot.” Kaliba chirped, causing the audience’s faces to sting from all the laughter. Swinging three times, the confused entertainers hopped into the water.
“And there you have it! The Battle of Cryhii Bridge!” Claps and cheers bounced around the arena. Lai and Chakrit wiped the sweat off their faces, thinking this was the end of their part. A fleet of canoes swam out of a tunnel, each with a bucket with an expanding cone at the top.
“Thank you for your lovely patronage today, but this isn’t over. By throwing your tickets into a particular bucket, YOU in the audience get to select our next performance!” Most of the entertainers exitted, while Lai and Chakrit investigated Vega.
“What are you doing? Why are you in the show?” Chakrit angrily mumbled, shaking her as he spoke.
“I’m in debt.” Vega was completely honest in her tone.
“You know what… fair.” Lai replied.
“That's right everyone. And these three will be performing it.” The bandit’s faces dropped, while Vega and Kaliba held no fear. For now.
“These randomly selected actors will act out your battle of choice. As you can see, each color bucket is a choice. Obstacle course? Fight a hundred lions? Last man standing? Their lives are in your hands!”
“Which is which?”
“I have no idea Amber…”
“...shit.”
“That’s the idea.” Lai whimpered.
This was one of the few times people voted in the Oligarchy, and lesser of those events where their votes mattered at all. Everyone in the audience took to throwing, with plenty tossing into the orange canoe. The workers counted quickly and circled in the middle of the pond.
“Hey Sun?” Amber spoke.
“Yes?”
“Just want to let you know, you’re like the best friend I ever had. And you’re, like, a really awesome girl.” He spoke in an angelic kindness. Lai blushed, thinking that her next moments would be full of pain.
“Oh my gosh-gosh, just kiss already!” Vega groaned, upset that these two were complaining.
“Ruined the mood, scarecrow.” Chakirt returned to his sour voice.
“I believe we have the results. You, the illustrious people in the audience, with your bounteous and fruitful wisdom-.” Complementing the crowd, the orator sweetly bought their attention.
“Yeah sure.” Chakrit muttered.
“Did they not tell which bucket is which? Or that ya will be in this part?” Vega quired.
“No! They only wanted cheap actors. Only paid us a hundred brass. Itchy costumes too.” The giant woman educated the scarecrow. Vega bent down, feeling bad for the two.
“Wow. Sorry, I can share some of my gold if ya want.”
“No thanks. I mostly came here to entertain- what did you say?” Slurring her words to question Vega, Lai was stunned.
“I got paid ten gold to be-be the tornado.”
“...that son of a bitc-”
“-which you have selected, will determine their fates!” The orator broke their focus, as the bandits prayed to whatever spirit out there.
“You have voted, a dance battle!” The roar of the rabble ringed out, ready to see his incredible performance. With all the water finally drained out of the arena, the floor was a visible, coarse sand.
The trio hopped downward, two of them nervous, one of them elated. Kaliba took off, now eating a counselor's forgotten meal. A flashing light cast over them, along with jazzy drummers.
“Whoever wins this fight will receive a bonus along with the next show.” A lowering chandelier craned downward. With it, was the chest Vega saw earlier, along with an actress. Whistles and clicks from the men came out.
Most of the audience only saw a performance. Vega, being the inquisitive observer she was, saw indicators of the actress’s strength.
Florato, hanging from the chandelier, was slightly taller than most men and of herculean physique. Vega saw scars of combat around her shoulders, biceps, and belly. She took them as signs of growing progress and… well, muscular power!
Wearing a mock bikini armor outfit, the carmel skin lady flipped her wavy honey combed hair to the crowd. Because the actress was a lot larger in places the bandit lady wasn’t, Lai felt… inadequate.
“Do guys… like these types of girls, Amber?”
“Don’t know, ask me again when I see her butt.” Chakrit openly mindedly and open eyed, responded.
“I get a pretty lady if I win? Alright!” Vega was ready for the fight of her life.
“Everyone ready?!” The orator, martialing the audience’s hype. The crowd cheered in understanding.
Three,
Two,
One,
“Go!” The trio yelled, as Lai and Chakrit began their duel. While spontaneous, both of their movements matched up together.
“Wow, I never knew you could dance, Lady!”
“I can?” Their movements often were high off the ground, placing emphasis on the swinging of the arms. The crowd got into their style of dance, along with the band. Vega felt outclassed, the churning in her body struck again.
“K-Kaliba! What should I do!?” The bird had started to drink the gallon of wine an Oligarch bought, and screeched in a drunk tone.
“Billie!” Her heart paused, realizing her dance was the next.
“Ya sure-sure?!”
“Yes-yes!”
“I mean, if ya say so.” She tore off her left glove, and unzipped her jacket, revealing a moon white shirt. The bandits slowed, with Lai carrying Chakrit in a spinning motion. Jumping into a kneeling stance, the pair waved to the crowd.
“What an excellent performance, now let’s see what our tornado can do.” Raising her wooden first into the air, Vega shouted to the earth and sky.
“Ow! Who’s bad?”
“She’s bad!” Kaliba screeched, prompting some of the people around him to join in the call and response.
“Who’s bad?”
“She’s bad!”
“Who’s bad?”
“She’s bad!” With each call, more and more people joined in the response. Soon the entire arena joined with her. The orator and organizer smiled at each other, this scarecrow was something else!
“Who’s bad?”
“She’s bad!” Their chant reached the entire city.
“Nah, I’m even worse!” A trio trumpets signaled the creation of something magical. The drum beat entered, with a hi hat, and a delicious bassline with it. Vega shook her left leg, and gripped onto her belt. Snapping her fingers, the crowd watched in silent excitement.
“Can she do that? Does she even have the copyright to do that?”
“What are you talking about Lady?” Amber raised his brow to the giant.
“Nothing, just something the audience knows, I guess. Micheal must be pissed.” Vega struck out her arm, snapping up and down. On each shake, she stepped back. And when the music picked up, she spun around and pointed to the orator. Surprised, he at first waved off the invitation. But with more and more people encouraging him to join the hot improvised rhythm, he joined with a quiet vocal.
Vega flipped and twirled, the single dancer in this arena of music. The bandits knew that the battle was rigged from the start. Minutes passed, with the crowd cheering on Vega’s indomitable vigor. Kicking out her legs, flaring out her hips and shoulders, it was a performance the audience hadn’t seen before.
“Hey Lady?”
“Yeah Amber?
“She’s good…”
“No… she’s even better.”
A guitar fanned fire as Vega jumped and downed, casting a spell to everyone. She snapped her hat and struck a pose, her left hand on her head, and her right leg bent. She spun on her heels and lifted onto her toes. And launched upward, completing a barrel roll in the process.
As she landed, she pushed her foot behind her.
“No! Not the mo-” Lai begged.
The scarecrow started moonwalking.
“That’s not fair! You have no bones! No blood! No articulations! How?!” Both bandits argued, barely audible by the cheering arena. She glided across the arena, getting the audience to roar in amazement.
Vega finished her moonwalk, and posed out to an entertained arena.
“Game, set, and match! Tornado is our winner!” The orator proclaimed. Vega dusted herself, and waved out to the crowd, showering her in affection. Flowers from all round the Oligarchy fell, in respect to this wonderful scarecrow.
“Do I get-get the lady now?
“Thank you for sticking with us, now for the dessert.” Gates started to lift from all sides, a thin smoke with it. Groups of fighters of all forms exitted. The three backed up until they were shoulder to shoulder.
“Ya guys want to share the pretty lady when we’re done?”
“Honestly yeah. Although I haven’t kissed anyone yet, I'd like to try. Could use a smooch or two.” Lai, open minded and open eyed, responded.
“Hah. Gay.” Chakrit teased.
“Bitch. I might be.”
“The following contains scenes of graphic stupidity around lifelong fighters competing to kill each other!” Hordes of gladiators walked out, along with some familiar fools.
“Hey Skaldi?”
“Yeah hubby?” Skaldi’s ears were tense, trembling at the army of warriors. He saw roughly several hundred, and saw their banners stick out. The same banner icon was painted on their faces as well.
“The scarecrow is right there.” Bolato sneezed out. Amir coughed in the cramped space, with Valiato clinging to his back. Her face was of sadistic malice. A horde of targets, she knew.
“What about it, Bolato?”
“As far as I have heard, she’s pretty good at managing people. So, just thinking out loud, we try to befriend her and not get our ass kicked?”
“Not a chance!” Skaldi shot out, knowing the consequences.
“What’s an ass Bola?” Valiato queried.
“Ask Amir.”
“~What’s an ass Amir?~”
“~Ask Skaldi.~”
“What's an ass Ska?”
“Something Bolato likes a lot.” Skaldi told the truest of truths.
“Focus! If we make the top eight, we get enough money for a cart. Then we can do the bank job.
“Aim small, miss small, sweetpea.” Skaldi signaled. Valiato’s grip on her pouch and sling tightened, along with her brows.
“Now sweetie, I know you want to beat Lai up, but now's not the time. Focus, and we get on with our lives.” Skaldi took a breath, and steeled his heart.
“The finale for this wonderful concert. Everyone, place your bets! The remaining actors are allowed to choose any team they like. If the team they choose wins, they get a bonus of a thousand gold!” He paused, building suspense.
“However, the team that knocks them out regardless of whether they make the top eight, gets that thousand!” All of the groups started eyeing them up, ready to claim that prize.
“Lady, please don’t choose the Ratlings! They’re looking at me funny!” Chakrit’s voice shook in terror.
“I don’t know who to pick! Everyone is so mean looking! Don’t you guys have fun outside of hurting people?” Lai called out to the roaming teams. The bandits stuttered and shivered, knowing that no matter who they chose, they had a target on their back. Vega however, had an idea.
“Hey Kaliba! Which team should-should I pick?
“Climbers.”
“Hey, talking guy! We choose the redhead-head’s team!” Skaldi winced, slapping his face. The bandit pair joined him.
“The remaining actors joined the team… Mega Ultra Chicken!” Everyone in the audience started to bet on every other team aside from Mega Ultra Chicken.
“Hey hubby?”
“Yeah Skaldi?”
“How much does it cost to go to the hospital?” Skaldi whimpered out a plea.
“Don’t know. Depends on whether or not you have insurance.”
“Alright. In this final melee, the teams will fight until the last man standing. If you are knocked down, you are out.” The audience muttered to themselves.
“However, if you manage to destroy the team’s banner, the whole team are goners!” Chakrit blew a sigh of relief.
“Oh, that’s it? Maybe we have a chance to win.”
“Along with the audience voting in death traps.”
“...Less of a chance.” Everyone except Vega and Kaliba tensed up. Because Kaliba managed to eat enough food to get him into a coma, and Vega’s fear hadn’t kicked in. Not yet anyway.
“Thanks Linda.” Skaldi skewered, seeing Vega’s card on her shirt.
“I’m no Linda, climber.” Vega smiled, not knowing the doom that would befall her.
“And this melee will start… after these messages!” A collective boo from the audience roared out.