by Andre Pisco
"How do you know?"
"No one born in a technological city would wear that without being obliged. He looks like a tourist who is seeing the world for the first time.”
"A tourist?" Alec asked, hearing a word that was not in his dictionary.
"You don’t know what that is either? It's someone who travels to get to know other cities."
The confusion on Alec's face was visible. The world he came from was very different, and the customs and words to which he was accustomed were different from what was known there. He knew he had to get used to it, but for the moment, he was still adapting to all of it.
"Which one of you is Alec?" He asked, adjusting his glasses. His hands trembling enough to make him look aggressive despite being calm.
"It's me," Alec replied, taking a step forward.
"I'm Krespo, sophomore. We came from the same city. Do you think you can accompany me?" He said, smiling and showing off some of his yellow, deformed teeth, “I’m a month late, but better than never.”
"Krespo? The last-year winner? I heard you had blond hair, wore a black cloak and totally decimated your opponent. No one said anything about glasses."
"You're right. When I came here, I thought a change would do me good. I was tired of being the typical city boy, gloomy and lonely. I wanted to show that nothing distinguishes us except the clothes, that we can also be one of them. Some of my colleagues are from prominent families, and I will have a future after Drexus. Now follow me."
Alec nodded and said goodbye to Neil, who entered the room. The way Krespo spoke, one of his eyes vibrating and his head moving subtly to the right, disconcerted Alec, despite the peaceful aura he conveyed. His brain felt congested - a delay of seconds that left him running after time, unable to catch it.
"Are you enjoying being here?" He asked, his left eye still blinking, and a hand in his pocket.
"Yes. It's different, safer,” Alec said, keeping a minimally safe distance between them.
"Pretty much," he said, laughing. “It feels good not to have to run for your life, or end up accidentally hurting innocents because you don’t know how to control your power, doesn’t it?"
His mind jumped from subject to subject without ever pausing to delve. When Alec’s friends had seen him on television a year ago, they told him Krespo looked like a well-built boy, more than him, and with a power that made everyone dazzled. A magician who manipulated the air to his delight and came to be held as a promise, a hope in the bottom of a putrid sea.
"Well ... You belonged to a gang, didn’t you?" Alec asked, struggling to discover what had changed him.
"Well, we're almost there. I bet you already heard someone talking about the annual tournament, right? It’s the biggest event of the year. It is mandatory that students who have been invited to join Drexus participate. There are several fighters from cities like ours, and others from decent cities who have applied,” he replied, completely ignoring Alec's question. He didn’t even pretend not to understand it and had it not been for a pitiful look thrown into the horizon, Alec would have thought he had not heard him.
"I did,” Alec said, remembering James's words before attacking him. At the time, he thought he wouldn’t be able to be on it, but now that he had a chance, he was enthusiastic. His eyes gleamed as he clenched his fist.
"Nice to see that you’re interested" Krespo commented.
After a few detours, they stopped in front of a door that was big enough for the car that drove Alec there to get in. It had two red stripes vertically and on each side, in the center, a golden flower encrusted with different colors’ stones, which glittered and sparkled curiosity in Alec. There were already flames coming out of his pores. Krespo opened the door. There was a ring in the middle of the room, just like the ones used in the tournament where Alec had competed, as well as dozens of seats. The room was a perfect replica of a mini stadium.
There was the alcohol’s smell on the floor, and candy on foreign, greasy fingers. There were dozens of competitors scattered around the room, some quietly watching while others took the opportunity to practice. Director Loras was in one of the chairs in front of the ring as well as Alma, Matilda, and professor Tom. The teacher, as soon as he saw Alec, whispered into Loras’ ear, which fixed his penetrating gaze on him. Alec felt a slight pain near his heart. An anomalous pressure he had never felt before and made him lean against a wall, his vision blurred and his body shutting down.
"Are you okay?" Krespo asked, "Also, losing in the first round doesn’t hurt as much as you might think. You wouldn’t be the first.”
"Did you lose in the first round?"
"I lost in the third. I struggled but gained some respect. These things happen. Sometimes the sea is on our side, others the waves are too strong. You have to endure it" he replied, confusing Alec who struggled to understand the meaning of what he had just said.
Professor Tom stood up and walked halfway through the ring, announcing that the first battle would begin within minutes. He also explained how the tournament would work. Eight groups of 10, in which all fighters were entitled to a battle against all participants in their group - the two best of each group passed the next phase and then it was elimination round. He had a transparent box in front of him, with dozens of white papers folded. He said that each paper contained a name, that he would call two names, and they had two minutes to get into the ring or they would be disqualified. Armor and magic items were allowed, and the battle would end when one of the fighters left the ring, gave up or when someone’s HP reached zero.
Silence tamed the room as everyone anxiously awaited the first two names. His thick voice echoed through the mini-stadium as the words spread through the air.
"Alec, a new student VS Jasmille, a sophomore. Let’s go! We're going to start the annual tournament.” He said and walked to the edge of the stage. He yawned trying to disguise his coughing as his small eyes widened in the face of a good match.
He hit Alec's back and wished him good luck. His sharping laugh left the boy’s ears ringing.
"Good luck," shouted Matilda, who stood a few feet away.
She was standing and smiling, to Alma’s shame, who told her to sit down. She mumbled, but obeyed, folding her arms in protest. Alec smiled back. As he walked into the ring, he noticed that Lucian was leaning against a corner. They exchanged a quick glance, where Alec noticed that his eyes were a crystal-blue color with white dots resembling small snowflakes. Their attack had risen sharply since the last time they had faced each other a month ago. Alec's fire control had increased with training, but Lucian also had superior control over his power and spirit animal.
In the eagerness to know who Jasmille was, he looked around. He noticed a young man with older features - a brownish beard that matched his short hair, a bubbly face, and a spear in his hand. The silverpoint glowed with the rays of sunlight reflecting off the glass ceiling. However, the scariest thing was the silver armor he carried with him. A defense shell that Alec would have to overcome and had no idea how. They both walked into the ring at a slow pace. No one commented or told them to be faster. It was the first round of the year and although people’s tempers were on the edge of their skin, there was respect, especially with the presence of the director and teachers in the same room.
As soon as they entered the ring, their status appeared in several screens spread across the arena. It also had their items and a photo of their faces on it. Professor Tom made sure no one had healing items or illegal objects. The fight was about to begin. The remaining fighters approached the ring. The lights went out, except for the three that pointed at the ring. The arena was plunged into a sea of darkness, leaving Alec condemned to his presence and Jasmille’s, who held his spear horizontally.
Alec
Jasmille
Class: Wizard
Class: Knight
Specialization: Fire
Specialization: Lancer
HP: 250/250
HP: 350/350
Atta
ck: 100 + 35
VS
Attack: 180 + 20
Defense: 60
Defense: 150 + 50
Agility: 90
Agility: 120
Wisdom: 100
Wisdom: 95
Items:
Items:
Ruby Ring: + 35 attack (+ 25 bonus)
Silver Tip: + 20 attack
Silver Armor: + 50 defense
Tom left the ring. The lights moved from one place to another, and Jasmille cleared his throat before speaking for the first time.
"Did they put me up against a first-year student? I don’t know who had worse luck, you or me."
Alec ignored his words. He didn’t want to be distracted by provocations that could cost him the victory. The rattling noise of a bell echoed through the arena and the battle began.
Outside the ring, the voices were rising. Some students exchanged information and comments with each other. Most opinions gave Jasmille an assured victory.
"Don’t be so sure about that," said Professor Tom, who had gotten himself among the students.
"What's the teacher doing here?" Asked one of the students.
"The seats aren’t that comfortable, and I can see better from here,” Tom replied.
Jamille was first to move. He rushed onto Alec, and stretched his arm, trying to strike him with the spear. If it hit him, it could lessen his agility and thus shorten the only disadvantage he had. Alec deflected all attacks demonstrating that this wasn’t the first time he had been caught in close combat. He frowned, clenched his teeth, and sped up. Despite the armor’s weight, the weapon and the effort he was making in a short space of time, Jamille was still not tired. His well-built body had been trained for such fights.
"You should learn to read your opponent's strategy before he pulls you onto the ropes," Jamille said.
Alec glanced back. He was just steps away from being out of the ring and being disqualified. He had not even thought of that. He wasn’t accustomed to having a limit on where to fight, much less fight against someone who surpassed him by thinking two moves ahead. He got distracted for a fraction of a second and it was enough for Jasmille to push his spear into the bone, reducing his agility to 60, and his HP to 175. Blood flowed down his ankle and the agonizing pain spread through his leg. Whenever he tried to force himself to get up, he was left half kneeling. His breath was seen in white tones in front of him whenever the lights fell on his face.
"I was hoping you would surprise me," The guy stated, before picking up the spear and swinging it like a club toward Alec.
Alec ignored the aches he felt and crawled to the right, diverting himself from the spear by millimeters. He sighed and used the fire to scar the wound. The students were amazed to see how far Alec was willing to go, and how experienced he seemed. Sweat dripped down his face, wetting the floor as he struggled to get up and stand on one of his legs in a delicate position. His HP dropped to 150 after the effort he made to get up. The lights went away. They showed a glimpse of the whole arena, including the blood pool around Alec, Matilda standing and clenching her fist, Tom in the front line, and even Lucian shaking his head in disapproval.
Alec's heart beating increased. The fire itself grew, expanding through all the limbs of his body. Light-red flames appeared at his fingertips. His pink cheeks and steamed breath made him a dangerous target, a volcano about to erupt.
"Finally,” Jasmille shouted, wielding his spear, its tip glowing yellow.
Dozens of transparent spears appeared next to the original. They moved through the air, surrounding Alec in a corner of the ring. Before Jasmille could use his special attack on him, Alec concentrated the flames on his right fist and released them towards his rival, who had to defend himself in a short space of time, putting the spear upright and using it as a barrier. He backed away, giving Alec room to get out of the corner and think of a strategy. His HP decreased with each step given. Adrenaline ran in his veins and prevented him from feeling pain during the battle.
"It looks like I'm going to win our bet," Alma told director Loras.
"The battle is not over yet. You should be more patient."
"What can he do? He can barely stand."
"What do I always tell you?" Asked Loras, giving him an honest, innocent smile.
"That sometimes the will to win outweighs the lack of experience."
"I see you still remember my lessons."
Alma returned his focus onto the battle. He had learned not to doubt Loras even when he seemed to be wrong. He was considered one of the strongest students, perhaps even the strongest, but compared to the director he was just a young man with much to learn yet.
"You will have no choice but to escape," Jamille stated, the spear returning to its original position.
This time, he was too far away for Alec to stop him and counterattack. He needed a new idea as soon as possible. Time passed slowly. The seconds dragged on. Jamille lifted his hand and lowered it quickly, causing the spear to strike Alec at high-speed. Alec's eyes grew bright and red, just before a smoke covered the whole arena and left the students and Jamille wondering what had happened. The spear came back to his hand. Lights emerged from the smoke due to the explosions caused by the impact of the spears. Alec's HP came down to 40.
Jasmille waited for the fog to dissipate as a glow erupted in the haze. Suddenly Alec darted through the air toward his opponent at an uncontrolled speed. He had the cloth of his clothes in rags and blood running down his shoulders. Jamille had time just to maneuver his spear and try to hit Alec in mid-air. However, Alec was already waiting for him to do so and fired a flurry of flaming punches into the ground so the explosion would push him far enough to deviate from the spear. Jasmille looked up, his eyes opened as if he was seeing his life passing right before his eyes, watching Alec’s movements, who deposited what was left of his energy in a last fist directly in his face, leading him to fly through the ring, eventually falling off the ground. Alec also dropped and rolled to the edge of the ring. He had 20HP. As he hit the ground, he closed his eyes and went completely out.
Neither the students’ chanting nor the appreciation of Matilda or Tom’s screams woke him. He had put his body in the line and the wounds punished him for his carelessness. Jamille got up, helped by two other colleagues who were also competing, and looked at Alec's body lying on the floor. He bit his lip and dropped his chin on his chest. His eyes were almost leaping out of him, his veins protruding from his fist. He pushed his colleagues away and left the arena still fuming and stammering about how unfair his defeat had been. Tom took the stage and asked the healers to take Alec to the infirmary. He then took out two more names and announced the following match.
Chapter VI
Alec woke up with an enormous headache that made even the simple task of opening his eyes difficult. He placed two fingers at the tip of his eyebrow, and lightly touched it, feeling a weird mixture that caused some discomfort. He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed that he had a swelling in the same place, as well as dried blood on his bare shoulders and forehead. There were also a few superficial cuts across the body, and two whose skin around it appeared to have been cooked - one on the right shoulder and one near his navel. His HP was at 80, but the pain was still strong and he had an unknown bitter taste in his mouth.
He lay back on the bed and stared at the baby blue ceiling, which stretched at every corner and was supported by the white walls. It was still strange to see colors so polished and reminiscent of the day someone had touched them. He looked around, noticing how odd it was that the room he was in had no windows. A pile of books, with dusty covers and yellowish pages slightly folded in the corner, occupied half the space. On top of a wooden chair was a set of official clothes, which had his name inscribed.
Alec got up and dressed, despite feeling every bone cracking as he stretched out his legs to put on his pants and as he raised his arms to wear his shirt. The combat had left him desolated and now he suffered the consequences of h
is naivety and impetuosity. He was about to leave the place when an elderly lady, probably in her 50's, came in backward and talking to someone who stood by the door. It took her a few seconds to turn around and notice that Alec was already on his feet.
“I thought it was going to take another day for you to regain consciousness," she said. Her voice was docile and almost maternal.
Alec took a long time to respond. He stood still, looking at the woman and noticing the similar features she had with his mother. The woman reflected what he had left behind. Ever since classes had begun, he had thought little of his parents and friends. Not that he had forgotten them, but he tried to escape nightmares, memories that drove him away from normal life. It was not just the tone of her voice that reminded him of his house, but also the way she put the back of her hand to test his fever, or how she smiled at the end of each sentence. She paused to breathe, had a white dress and some white hair in a sea of platinum strands. It was evident that she had painted it to hide the traces of old age that were falling on her.
"One more day? For how long have I been here?” Alec asked, as her words finally had an impact.
"Two days. You were in ruins, my boy. I spent almost all my energy just to stanch your blood. Luckily, the director had ordered a new load of magic potions. I recovered quickly. Next time you need to have a better judgment.” She said, holding back the smile. She didn’t know him, but she looked worried, “It’s just a tournament.”
"Two days?" Alec exclaimed, "And my classes? Did I win? Am I still in the tournament?" He asked, with an arm around his body.
The woman laughed and told him that yes, he was still in the tournament and that his missed classes were justified, but she hoped she wouldn’t see him there again. Before giving him permission to leave, she healed him a little more, removing the pain in his eyebrow area and making the wrinkled and cooked skin look healthier. There were still a few cracks of dry blood in those areas, but it was as if they had never happened.
