by Jez Cajiao
I’d seen my notifications window flashing earlier, but I’d ignored it. Now seemed like the best time to check it, so I flexed a mental muscle and brought up the page before me.
Congratulations! You have killed a Level Nine Ranger! You receive 180exp. Progress to Level Five stands at 615/2700exp.
I dismissed it, pleased to see that I was climbing steadily towards the next level. I’d hoped for more exp, maybe even a level, but hell, it was better than I would have gotten without the Pearl. I dressed slowly, settling my gear into place and checking my weapons. Before I finished, I put my helmet on the table and told the servants to wait outside and not to disturb me until it was time.
I walked back and forth in the small room, my nerves getting the best of me as I paced. I couldn’t help running the fight over and over in my mind, trying to see other ways it could have gone. The truth of it was that I’d been damn lucky, and I threw myself down in the chair in one corner of the room. I heard paper crinkle and looked down in confusion, pulling a folded note from the side of the seat.
It seems you are not well liked by the Baron Sanguis. Perhaps another House would be a better benefactor? If you wish to know more of Thomas’s tale, then look to us...
I turned the paper over, finding a stylized bird in flight on the back. I’d seen the symbol on the banners that flanked one of the booths, I was sure, but there had been so many… On impulse, I tucked the paper into my pocket. I didn’t know who they were, but the last thing I wanted was the Baron knowing I was looking around. I sat for a few minutes after searching for any other notes and finding none, until a knock on the door jolted me from my musings.
“It’s time, my lord!” Helena called out as she opened the door. It was time for round two.
Chapter Seven
I strode along the corridors and back out into the arena for the second time, noting the blood splotches and marks around the room. It looked like my opponents had been busy. Hopefully, I’d be facing someone I could defeat quickly this time, but I doubted it.
West had said something to me as I’d walked out into the arena, but I’d been too preoccupied with my own thoughts and had just grunted at him. Now that I was here, I examined the room more carefully. My opponent wasn’t here yet, so I looked over each of the banners intently. There was a wide variety of different animals, symbols, and designs covering them, and two houses had birds on them. Examining the two more closely, I almost pulled the note out to compare, but at the last second, I thought better of it. One had an eagle with a golden crown floating above its head, while the other was a Falcon flying on a field of green. My eyes flicked to the inhabitants of the second booth. Two guards stood at the back, flanking either side of the door. To one side, a young woman sat, tall and regal, but with smudged makeup that had been hastily refreshed. The tracks of tears were obvious on her cheeks, and the way that she clutched something in her lap told me she’d likely lost someone recently. Glancing at the bloody marks on the floor, I grimaced. She had likely lost someone more recently than I had originally thought.
Finally, I studied the man in the middle, who started in surprise as he found my eyes fixed on his face. He was of medium height, as best as I could judge from the floor below, with an average build and short blond hair. A goatee and a conservative business suit gave him an understated, distinguished air. The feature that stood out beyond all the others, for me, was his eyes. They were an icy blue and bored into my own. I broke my gaze away, looking around the room to make sure nobody had entered while I was distracted, then checked on the Baron. He wasn’t even in his booth yet. The bastard hadn’t even made it to the fight on time!
I shook my head and returned my attention to the man who I assumed was Falco, trying not to be too obvious about it. As soon as he saw me looking at him again, he raised an eyebrow as though in question, and waited. I knew I had found the author of the note.
I tapped my pocket and raised an eyebrow in return, receiving a satisfied nod. With a rattle, the portcullis to my left started to rise, and I moved to the center of the arena again. It was time. I couldn’t afford any further distractions, so I looked directly at Falco, nodded my head to him, then banished him from my mind, concentrating fully on the fight to come.
I hefted my naginata and readied my stance. The guy that stalked out of the portcullis was a rogue, fully dressed in black leather armor. From his head to his toes, the only flesh I could see was a narrow band across his eyes. Everything else was covered. He carried a whip in his right hand and a dagger in his left, and he didn’t even pause for the beginning of the fight to be announced. He set off sprinting at me, pulling something from a holster on his chest. He threw it at the ground before me, and it exploded, smoke billowing out and obscuring everything.
I started backing up and spinning around, trying to spot him, when the whip flashed out from my right, wrapping around the haft of my naginata and yanking hard. The shock made me almost drop it, but I recovered in time to twist it and yank hard in return. A shadowy figure resolved out of the darkness just in time for me to catch sight of his dagger flying through the air to sink into my leg with a meaty thunk.
“Gah! Mother fucker!” I screamed, twisting the shaft of the naginata and bringing the blade down hard as he skipped back. His whip uncurled as my blade passed through the space it had occupied a second before. I staggered forward, trying to catch up with him before he could disappear, but he was gone.
I started twisting around again, trying to guess where he’d gone. When I staggered forward, my leg didn’t hurt that much, but…. it was numb, and the numbness was growing. Poison! I realized.
I saw a green symbol flashing above my health bar, and saw the bar begin to slowly drop.
Cursing under my breath, I grabbed the blade and yanked it free with my left hand. Peering around, I still couldn’t see anything, but I noticed that the mist was also deadening the sound of the party going on above me.
I closed my eyes and lowered myself to my left knee, figuring I still had enough power in my right leg to get up, and it made me a smaller target. I listened as hard as I could, trying to make anything out. Nothing. It was totally silent, until a voice whispered in my ear, close enough to feel his breath on my cheek.
“Boo!” As I flinched away, bringing both the dagger and the naginata around to strike at the origin of the noise, I felt a piercing agony as another dagger sank into my lower back, ripping into a kidney and staying stuck there. The small blade grated on bone as I moved to catch a glimpse of him as he disappeared into the fog again.
“Argh!! God damn crazy cocksucker! Gah!” I cried out, forcing myself to my feet and limping in a circle. Trying to reach the dagger, I dropped the first one on the ground and clawed at the new one, feeling the numbness begin to spread. Touching it sent a wave of sickness through me. My stomach clenched and bile rose with the pain. I wasn’t removing it; I’d die faster with it out, I knew instinctively.
A foot materialized from the darkness to my right and kicked the naginata from my hand, followed by a spin kick to my face that had me sprawling in the sand before I knew what had happened. My mind struggled to catch up with the latest events, but it was dulled by the pain. When I looked down, I could see the tip of the dagger sticking from my stomach. I’d landed on it and driven it clean through. The bleeding was horrific, and the entire wound was numb already. Not a good sign. I knew I had to hold on, to lure him in close, or it was all over for me.
I struggled to pull my knives from the hidden sheaths on the outsides of my bracers. My swords were too long and unwieldy at this angle. Before I could draw the daggers, the whip lashed out from the dark, wrapping around my arms and yanking me forward as the blades went flying. I ended up sprawling face down, coughing bright red blood into the sand. I felt hands yanking the swords from the sheaths on my back and throwing them aside. A smack across the back of my head, contemptuous in its power, barely would have been enough to annoy me normally. Now, it left my head ringing.
&
nbsp; I coughed more blood into the sand and called out to my opponent as I sensed him stalking me.
“What, you… afraid to *cough*… fight like a man…?” I spat more blood out and continued. “You’re… a coward …. using tricks, can’t…… fight me fair … had to cheat, you that afraid …. of me?”
“Only a fool fights ‘fair.’ Don’t think I don’t know what you want, an easy death…. You’ll not get it here!” He grabbed me, dragging me over onto my back, and my arms flopped weakly, with my right fist obviously clenched around something.
He stamped down on my wrist, grinding his boot until my hand opened and I dropped a healing potion onto the floor. His eyes widened in response to it.
“And you dare accuse me of cowardice? You who thought to bring a healing potion into the fight?!” He flicked it aside with the toe of his boot and flung his arms wide, turning in a circle and speaking to the booths that were slowly emerging from the thinning smoke.
“Do you see? He brought h…”
With his attention diverted by the Potion I’d let him find, I’d pulled the razorwire from my belt and flicked it up around his neck in one motion. I quickly kicked him in the back of the knee with my right foot. As he fell, his hands going to the razorwire instinctively, I yanked hard on the wooden grips in my hands. The garrotte tightened, the flexible length studded with tiny, razor blades that sank into his throat effortlessly as he hit the floor next to me. I braced my foot against his forehead and met his gaze as his eyes bulged in pain and shock. With a furious scream, I pulled on the grip and pushed as hard as I could with my foot, sawing the wire deep into his neck. With a spurt of bright arterial blood, his throat was severed. I had won again.
I coughed and spat blood out again as I forced myself to stand. I raised my face to the booths and called out as loud as I could into the stunned silence.
“It’s… against the rules to…USE a potion or healing…spell, you prick! Not.. to carry one!” I coughed and spat more blood onto the floor as the announcer called out in a shocked voice.
“Well…my lords and ladies! We have a winner! For the second time tonight, House Sanguis wins and is through to the next round! House Dagomar is defeated. The next bout will begin in ten minutes!”
I turned, almost falling as my pair of servants sprinted for me. The Dagomar servants were walking slowly towards the corpse, heads downcast and arms crossed on their chests in apparent sorrow. Johan grabbed me around the waist, helping me to stand, while Helena brought the healing potion over at a run. She grabbed the dagger and yanked it from my stomach in one smooth motion while pressing the rim of the small phial to my lips and muttering something as it poured into my mouth. I felt a strange heat spread out from my stomach, flowing into my wounds and beginning to heal me.
Despite their help, I passed out from the pain and had to be carried from the arena. When I regained consciousness an hour later, the pair of them were pulling me to my feet and dragging me off my bed to carry me into the pool. They lowered me slowly into the warmth and let it soak some of the dried blood away. I was sickened at the amount of red staining the water.
“Wha…” I coughed and spat out a lump of congealed blood and cleared my throat, trying again. “What...*cough* happened?” I asked.
“You won, my lord, again! We feared for you, I confess it, but the razorwire loop, it was inspired! Combatants will be discussing it for years! The way you’d allowed him to stab you, to draw him in, even allowing him to disarm you! Your bravery is legendary, my lord!” Johan was babbling, his eyes shining as he knelt next to me in the pool. Helena leaned on the other side and washed my face gently, taking over for him.
“It was incredible, my lord, the skill you showed. You made it look effortless, the way you just flicked it up and around his throat…. magnificent!”
Hah, joke is on them, I thought, I’d been aiming for his arm… I was luckier than I had any right to be.
I shifted and struggled free, and they let me rise to my feet. Standing up slowly, I felt the water flowing from my body and looked at myself in wonder. The wounds were almost fully healed. Thin scars were all that remained, still red and livid, but healed enough that I could fight again. I looked at my body, then at the pair kneeling before me.
“How?” I asked, I knew that the one potion we had couldn’t have healed all this damage, surely?
“Osun Dagomar’s gift, my lord!” Helena replied with a twinkle in her eye. “When I retrieved his possessions, he had two potion vials tucked into the waistband of his trousers. A last resort, I assume, but he certainly has no use for them now. You didn’t give him time to use them!”
“And to think he was acting so outraged about you taking the one from here out there with you!” Johan butted in. “But you do know they would have struck you down if you’d used it during the fight, don’t you, my lord?”
“I do…” I replied. “But only because one of my guards told me on the flight over, otherwise I’d have been killed out there tonight. I made sure to ask one of the officials when I was getting ready before the first round if they were illegal to possess in the arena, or just to use. Lucky me…”
“Well, you won again, my lord. Only the final round to go now! we had to use all three potions on you to heal you to this point, but we have faith in you, my lord. You can do it!” Johan said. His smile was huge, and when I shifted my attention to Helena, she was the same. Both were convinced I’d triumph regardless. They also thought it’d all been a feint, losing my weapons, and if people wanted to believe that…I’d let them. I brought up my flashing notification again, and found that Osun had been clearly recognized as a rogue. Yeah, I could see that. Stabby, stabby little prick that he was….
Congratulations! You have killed a Level Eight Rogue! You receive 160exp. Progress to Level Five stands at 775/2700exp.
There was a noise outside, and the door opened suddenly. The Baron marched in, surrounded by his guards. “Get out,” he ordered bluntly, and the dripping wet pair floundered out of the pool and ran for the exit. He appraised me and I lowered myself back into the water, dismissing the screen and floating there as we watched each other.
“You’ve done well, so far..” he admitted grudgingly. “You have two left to fight now, Ora and Wilhelm. Ora is an archer, skilled at stealth, and has mastered basic fire magic. Expect her to put it to use, as she hasn’t yet. Wilhelm is a fighter, pairing heavy plate armor with a sword and shield or mace. Expect him to work to wear you down. Both are serious threats. What will you do?” he asked, settling back into a chair.
“Well, I thought I’d kill them, unless you have a better idea, Daddy dearest?” I asked, blatantly mocking him. He stiffened and replied with a low growl.
“You will never call me that again. Do you understand? NEVER!”
“Or what? You’ll have me killed?” I asked with a snort of derision. We glared at each other, not speaking for a few minutes. Then he shook his head in disgust and broke the silence.
“We will have to address your level of respect, boy. If I have to, I will teach you your place. In the meantime, however, you have a fight to win. Once you’ve won, you will be given a short time to prepare and gather any equipment you choose before the portal is opened and you are sent through. This is a chance to ask me any questions or make use of my knowledge. Do you really want to pass this up?” I grunted at him and stood up, focusing on him properly.
“Okay. First, the other two fighters; any advice?”
“Use Ora to take down Wilhelm quickly, then get in close to her. She will want to hold her spells back as long as possible to ensure she can use them to the greatest advantage, but she’s rash, undisciplined. If you give her a tempting target, she will take it without pause. Wilhelm is a much more patient man. He will try to wear you down over time and won’t fall for the little act you used to draw Osun Dagomar in.” He hunched forward and clasped his hands together in his lap, trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably. “So, do you have a plan? Somethin
g hidden to take advantage of them?”
“Maybe, I have a few ideas; why?” I responded cautiously.
“I want to know so that I know what to wager on the fight, of course!”
“Are you for real?” I exploded at him. “You want to know if it’s worth betting on me?”
“Of course! If I think you have no chance, then I don’t want to lose something valuable.”
“Wait,” I said as I looked at him in disbelief. “You’ve been betting on me so far. What were you doing? Betting small ‘til you knew what I was like?”
“Yes, exactly. Why risk when I have no idea of the return?” he said offhandedly, as though it was far more important that he didn’t lose some trinket than I lose my life.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that? Tell me the truth; am I your son?”
“Of course you are. You wouldn’t be permitted to fight if you’d failed the bloodline test,” he said, looking offended. “What has that got to do with the risk I’d be taking if I gambled on you?” He went on as I stared at him in shock. “You forget, Jack, until you prove your worth, you are no more than another bastard to me. Perhaps some perspective is in order. How many children do you think I’ve fathered?”
“I don’t know, seventy?” I asked, refusing to be surprised.
“No, Jack. I was exiled here in the year thirteen forty-six; we all were. It took us nearly two hundred years to build the great portal, and then hundreds more to build our own personal receiving portals. In that time, I have had literally hundreds of children, if not thousands, and dozens of them were pureblooded. I have seen seven of my true born noble children pass through the portal to reclaim our world, and dozens upon dozens of other bastards like you. Not one has returned yet, but eventually one of you will, and what do we have but time? Even with the pathetic mana of this realm, we are able to hold off entropy. If you open the portal and return us, then and only then will I view you as worthy of my respect. Until that day, you are a servant that may prove valuable. If you die, the only loss is your potential. If I lose a vineyard gambling on you, however, that will be a real loss.”
