Chapter 3: First Blood

The crowd was roaring. Beetle stumbled back, her chest pulsing with pain. Crocodile wasn’t even looking at her anymore. He had his mighty arms lifted up as he grinned at the crowd, soaking in their admiration. A masked knight, the same as those who corralled Beetle after her first fight, came stomping over with a long metal rod of dents and blood stains. Without ceremony the knight patted down Beetle’s leather armor, and then with a shove, a dry woman’s voice came. “No blood.”

Cheers rose to new heights at the announcement, and once again Beetle was in the lion’s den. Crocodile gave Beetle a sideways glance, still intent on energizing the crowd. Looking past the Verdokian, Beetle noticed Lord Gallo sitting at the edge of his seat, hands tight and eyes wide. Lady Chiara was beside him, unamused as always. Sat far above either of them in a box all her own was a strange woman of immaculate ostentation. Her skin was the purplish milk of midnight, her eyes silver, and her body adorned in a gown of gems and silks that curtained her form tightly and gave her the allure of a constellation. She was far away, but even so Beetle could feel the sneer on her lips.

“The Duchess is watching, Monkey,” Crocodile idled. “Let’s put on a good show, no?”

Beetle’s eyes fell back down to Gallo, her gut clenched and when her eyes met her opponents, she had no intention of fulfilling anyone’s wishes. Her teeth gritted and her fingers strained against her axe. With a stomp, she fell back into a fighting stance. Crocodile hissed a mocking laugh and matched her.

Before Beetle could move, Crocodile closed the distance, his clawed feet ripping at the sand. His fist came in, but Beetle saw it this time. The shaft of her axe caught the rough of it, then a second fist came in. Beetle danced backwards, avoiding it. Another leap backwards and the distance was growing.

Metal screamed and Crocodile’s sword came slashing down.She didn’t even see him rip it out of its sheath. The blade whizzed by her ear, taking a strand of hair along with it, but Beetle’s reflexes were on her side. Crocodile cut in, elbow flying. This time Beetle stepped forward, swinging her axe wide, as if he was further away. Confusion bunched her opponent’s face and as his elbow narrowly skimmed past her face, the thick of her haft knocked into his shin and then with a pull, the beard of the axe came sliding back to hook his leg.

Behind Crocodile, Gallo shot upward in the stands. At the sight, Beetle loosened her grip. Crocodile’s knee slammed into her gut, bending her forward. The Verdokian leaned in, hissing in her ear.

“Why stop?”

Beetle just looked up at him with eyes of hate. Something akin to knowing reflected in the lizard man’s own eyes and he snickered. His foot hooked her ankle and then with a shove, he knocked her to the ground.

Pressure formed on her chest as the Verdokian placed his foot on her. He leaned in. A wide toothy smile threatened her. “Listen, Monkey. If you don’t fight like you mean it, I will kill you.”

Beetle laid there, staring up at him. His was now the only face she saw against the backdrop of a free sky of blue.

“I don’t know,” she croaked, finally. “I don’t know if I really mind if you do.”

Crocodile fell down to straddle her and lifted her head up by the collar of her leathers. He wasn’t saying anything, but he was listening, that was clear by his somber face. With a shove, he slammed her back into the ground, never breaking the skin.

Air escaped Beetle’s lungs and her shoulders pinched with pain. She croaked again, the words hardly leaving her lips in gasps. “I don’t… even know… if I have… a life worth living.”

“Then give up,” Crocodile spat. He stood, his claws still entangled in her collar. He started to drag her from her spot. “Let the fool who chained you win. Die like a human.”

Crocodile threw her to the ground. Her body bounced on the hot sand, only to land looking at the crowd. Their mouths were open with shouts of joy and glee. Lord Gallo was shouting too, standing from his seat, hands cupped around his lips, eyes boring into her. She didn’t want to fight for him, she didn’t want to live in his cage. Her eyes closed, her vision shut off. She wanted to leave, and maybe this was the way.

Heat. Something hot was burning through her sorrow, something angry. The salt of the ocean was on her tongue, a taste she remembered. A fiery spirit used to dwell in her chest, an untameable wave, a forever wind. “Are you really so broken in, you’d die as a toy?” It was that angry voice, that hate filled voice she didn’t recognize.

“Answer me,” Crocodile recited. The voice of her head was now his own. He stood over her. “Are you a toy, or are you gladiator?”

“Stop asking me stupid questions,” Beetle hissed. “I’m fucking Beetle!” Her fingers tightened on her axe and with a wide swing along the ground, she forced Crocodile in a backwards leap. She rose to her feet, body bruised but working. The heat was in her chest and she rushed in. Crocodile tried to dodge, but Beetle was quicker.

Her foot slammed the sand and she pivoted. The flat side of Beetle’s axe slammed into Crocodile’s ribs. A hissing yelp. No blood. Crocodile swung his sword to give him space. Beetle stepped into the swing and let one hand fall from her axe. She ducked the swing, slammed the haft of her axe on his arm. Her free hand slapped back onto the wood of the axe and with a twist, she trapped Crocodile’s wrist between the haft and beard and before Crocodile could do a thing, she leaped upwards, bringing the butt of the axe with her.

The wooden edge slammed into Crocodile’s chin. Teeth clattered against tongue and a spurt of blood splattered out of Crocodile’s mouth. Immediately a whistle blew and the masked knight came rushing back in. First blood.

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***

For all its grandeur up top, the underside of the massive Yenellii arena was a cobbled hole. Phin, an old man with pale eyes, walked the halls with a bundle of spotty linens. He was there when Beetle made her debut, he sat next to her in the chain gang, and now he was walking under where she fought, wondering how she was fairing. He snorted a laugh, the sound bouncing off the empty stone halls. “She better not go down easy.”

Boots clacked in the distance, pulling Phin from his thoughts and forcing his eyes up. A tall man dressed far too nice for this part of the arena was walking right at him, eyes steady. Phin curled his fingers anxiously.

“You,” the stranger came to a stop, right in his way. They were about the same height, except the stranger was something of a bulky man with a shirt that tightened over bulging muscle. Phin, on the other hand, was an older gentleman, whose glory days appeared to be long faded, though something in his smile hinted at a different story.

“How’s it going, sir?” Phin lathered on the diplomacy. “I was just on my way to the surgeons’ rooms.” It wasn’t a lie, he had the linens, and as of that morning, he was put on an errand by the Yenellii managers, deemed too old for a sponsor.

“Funny,” The larger man said without humor. “I was just going to ask if you knew the way.” He stepped out of Phin’s way, eyes narrow. “My name is Rethur, a recent hire.”

“Phin,” the old man said with a step. They started to walk. “I didn’t know they even hired people, as that implies a salary.”

“Depends on who you mean by ‘they’.”

They both stopped and faced each other. If it wasn’t clear before to Phin, now it was, he just didn’t think it would happen this quickly.

“What do you want?” Phin narrowed his eyes.

“I should be asking you that question,” Rethur answered. “What business do you have with Beetle?”

Instead of answering, Phin rubbed his chin. “I see.” He took a step back, dropping the linens and putting space between the two of them. “We know how this goes, I’m assuming I’m not your first.”

Rethur cracked his neck and hunched up his shoulders. “And you won’t be the last.”

They rushed each other.

***

“That was one void-be-damned of a blow!” Crocodile bellowed. His voice bounced off the close walls of the surgeon’s room. A disgruntled man of a height not dissimilar to Beetle’s was cringing, doing his best to suture the energetic lizardman’s cheeks. Blood dribbled with saliva. Beetle sat on a thin bed not unlike Crocodile’s except she wasn’t being fussed over, just holding a large flask of water mixed with vinegar and lemon.

It was weird, Beetle figured, to be sitting in the same room as her previous opponent, but something about Crocodile was contagious, be it the grace he presented in his loss, or his neverending optimism. For what it was worth, Beetle was content with the shimmer of social contact that wasn’t contingent on control or ownership.

“Would you really have killed me?” She found herself asking the Verdokian.

“Pah,” Crocodile nearly shoved over the doctor to answer. “No. I take my job seriously, I wouldn’t ruin my career by breaking the rules for some runt like yourself.”

Beetle found herself smiling, ever so slightly. “Then why bother threatening me with it?”

The doctor yanked Crocodile back still, the Verdokian obliged. “Because you needed to hear it, Monkey,” Crocodile winked. “I’m a fighter, and I only fight other fighters, not whatever it is you were when you walked in. You’re strong, and I may not know your circumstances, but I hate to see good muscle wasted.”

Beetle cracked something that may have been a laugh at that. “Well thanks, anyway.” She felt genuine, he felt genuine. It hit her, she didn’t even know her circumstances, same as Crocodile, but then again, she did meet someone already who might know. “You’re a free fighter, right?”

Crocodile pushed the doctor away completely now, a frown forming on the surgeon’s face. With a throw of his hands, the small man stomped away, leaving the room entirely. Crocodile leaned in. “Sure am, why?”

“Can you wander wherever?”

“For the most part, yeah, though I tend to stay in my villa back in the city.”

“V-villa?” Beetle’s eyes widened for a moment before she shook the image of a lizard with a mansion out of her head. “I have a favor to ask, I want to get in touch with someone without Lord Gallo knowing.”

“Geez, Monkey, I don’t really do favors like that for free…” His yellow eyes narrowed on the warrior. “I’ll do it for a rematch.”

“Deal,” Beetle held out a hand. Crocodile slapped her hand with a heavy scaled palm.

“Who are you looking for?”

“An old guy with pale eyes. He had his debut alongside me, I don’t know his name, but he knows something about blood in the ears.” Beetle rushed her words.

“So I’ll ask any old geriatric ape I see if they know about bloody ears?” Crocodile shrugged. “I’ll do my best to find the guy, but I can’t promise anything.”

The surgeon’s door flapped open. Beetle jumped in her seat, sitting straight up and away from her new friend. From the maw of the portalway, Lord Gallo walked in, eyes wide and a smile wider. Something in his face made Beetle’s stomach drop. A shadow appeared behind the man, it was Lady Chiara, her face somewhat smug.

Gallo looked at Crocodile, his smile faltering slightly. “If you’re done here, I wanted to congratulate my new champion.”

“Shall I escort you out, Mister Lavoash?” Lady Chiara offered from the sidelines. Crocodile’s smile turned into a thin toothy line.

“No need.” He stood up. As he walked by Beetle, he gave her one last grin. “Good luck, Monkey.”

Gallo glared at Crocodile until he was completely out of sight. “What a tool that one is,” he muttered to no one in particular. Beetle’s small joy from earlier was nothing now, not as she sat alone with Gallo and Chiara.

“So you’re here to congratulate me?” Beetle asked, as if pushing the conversation would get it over with sooner.

“In a way…” Gallo feigned disinterest. “Truly, I have a surprise for you. Want to see?”