The Ultimate Dragon Fighting Championship

by John P. Logsdon

  “You have done a wonderful job in helping me, West.”

  “Happy to do it, sir,” West replied with a slight bow. “Once we are through the final interview, you’ll be all set.”

  “And then you’ll be young, wealthy, and long-lived,” Heliok said.

  “Indeed.”

  Heliok tapped his desk.

  “There is another option for you, if you’re interested.”

  “Oh?”

  Heliok stood and walked over to the window that overlooked where Lornkoo and Mooli worked. They wouldn’t like what Heliok was about to offer the troll, but that only made it sweeter. He did so enjoy toying with his underlings.

  “You could work for me for a while.” He glanced over his shoulder. “With all of the privileges that go along with that, of course.”

  “I’m listening,” replied West in a smooth voice.

  “Imagine learning how to build worlds and rule over them,” said Heliok. “There are many steps involved and loads to learn, but I’d be here to help you every step of the way. Why, if you do well enough, you may even be deemed worthy of ruling a planet much like The Twelve do today.”

  West looked to be seriously considering this offer. How could he not? It wasn’t every day that something like this came along. As far as Heliok knew, it had never been offered to a non-Fate before at all. But West had an air about him. He seemed worthy of being with the Fates. Heliok couldn’t quite place why that was, but he felt it.

  “Could I not do what it is you do?” the troll asked.

  “Sorry, no,” replied Heliok as he returned to his seat. “You’re not a Fate and I’m afraid there’s no such thing as converting to the level of Fate, either. But being similar to The Twelve is not a shabby proposition.”

  “It is interesting, I’ll grant you.” West was drumming his fingers on his knee. “And how long would I have to serve as your assistant?”

  “Until such time that you’re ready. There is no specific way to measure that. It’s all on you.”

  “So it could be one year or one million years?”

  “More or less, yes,” answered Heliok. “Again, it all depends on you. Your honesty, your cunning, your craftiness, and your ability to maintain high standards of work.”

  “I’ve never had a fear of working hard.” The troll’s drumming was faster now. “In fact, I prefer it over being stagnant. Doing nothing is rather dull, even with a young body, a long life, and tons of money.”

  Heliok had no real point of reference to confirm or deny this claim.

  “If you say so,” he said noncommittally.

  West grinned in a sad way. “Let’s just say that I was young once, thought for certain that I’d never grow old, and I inherited a king’s ransom at the age of nineteen.” He glanced away. “I wasted all of it.”

  “Ah, yes,” Heliok said, coming to terms with what the troll was talking about. “I’ve seen that story unfold more times than I can count. However, you now have the benefit of wisdom, no?”

  “Not where money is involved,” admitted the troll.

  “Yet you’ll have an unlimited supply of money, so you may spend it as freely as you choose.”

  “That is true.” He glanced up at Heliok with creased eyes. “Now it almost sounds like you’d prefer I took the money instead.”

  “On the contrary, I’d rather you didn’t. But the fact is that I wouldn’t want you here if your heart was somewhere else. I need full commitment.”

  “Until such time that I can become a god of a new planet, yes?”

  “Correct,” confirmed Heliok.

  This was one sharp troll, that was for sure. He would do well working alongside the other Fates, and he’d already proven himself to be quite a help to Heliok.

  “So the question really becomes whether or not I wish to remain young and have eternal wealth,” said West, “or if I wish to live forever as a god.”

  “Sort of,” answered Heliok.

  “Sort of?”

  “Well, gods only live forever if the planet that they’re overseeing doesn’t destroy itself.”

  West’s eyebrows went up. “And if it does?”

  “The god is destroyed with it,” answered Heliok seriously. “Failure to do one’s job effectively is a serious offense to the Fates.”

  “Hmmm,” said West as his eyes darted about as if seeking reasons for leaving. Finally, he looked at Heliok and said, “I would think that this opportunity would be foolish to pass up.”

  “Hard to argue that.”

  “May I have a trial run of one hundred years?”

  Heliok tilted his head. “You mean like a probationary period?”

  “Correct.”

  “Interesting.” Heliok thought about it for a second. It would actually be a good idea for both parties. Just because West had been a great asset so far, who was to say that would last? “I think we can manage that.”

  “Then I shall accept your offer.”

  “Excellent,” Heliok said as he walked to the door. “Let me introduce you officially, then.”

  They walked out of the office and stood at the railing, looking down on Mooli and Lornkoo. Both of them appeared to be playing a game of solitaire on their data pads. It was so hard getting good help these days.

  “Listen up, you two,” Heliok called down. “Now, you already know that West here has been assisting me as of late, yes?” They both nodded. “Well, I’ve just offered him a probationary position as my personal assistant and he’s accepted.”

  “That’s not fair,” yelped Mooli as she set her data pad down. “Why do you get an assistant? We do all the work.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Lornkoo.

  Heliok was taken aback by that comment. How could they imagine that they did all of the work? He was the one who built The Twelve, not them.

  “What? I do more work around here than you two put together, thank you very much.”

  “Sure you do,” said Lornkoo in a sarcastic voice.

  Mooli grunted. “Yeah. It’s amazing you get any sleep at all.”

  “Are you two being sarcastic?” asked Heliok.

  “I believe they are, sir,” noted West.

  “This is patently unfair.”

  “Agreed, Lornkoo,” said Mooli, looking at her counterpart. “It’s downright ridiculous.”

  “Your protests have been noted,” Heliok said, which meant that he took their complaints and decided to ignore them. “It’s the way it is, I’m afraid, and the sooner you accept that, the better things will be.”

  “Whatever,” said Mooli.

  “Lame,” noted Lornkoo.

  These two were ever annoying. They either didn’t do their jobs or they did poorly at their jobs. Where they excelled was at complaining. But now that Heliok had a first line of defense, that being West, he would hear a lot less of their whining.

  “Anyway, not much will change. You will merely have to schedule all of your meetings with me through West. He will be the keeper of my calendar and such.”

  “That sounds like he’ll have a lot of control,” Mooli said.

  “Yeah, it does,” Lornkoo added.

  “Worry not, my friends,” West spoke up. “I’m sure we’ll get along swimmingly.” They were just staring at him, but the troll had a way about him that Heliok found impressive. “I have no wish to stand in anyone’s path, and you have all the motivation in the world to make sure not to ruffle my feathers. As long as you don’t, I’ll have no reason to ruffle yours.”

  Heliok smiled proudly.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, “you’re going to work out just fine.”

  Sweet Suite

  “Welcome to the Hotel Winged Bastion,” said the dragon to Whizzfiddle as he approached the front desk. “What do you want?”

  Whizzfiddle was used to dragons, having been on numerous quests to swipe jewels from their caves. He’d been asked to go on dragon-slaying quests, but he never accepted those as he felt that hunting was wrong. Now, he had been on a quest t
o aid in defending a town against a dragon who had been tormenting it, but that was a different thing altogether.

  “We have a reservation for three,” the elderly wizard said.

  The dragon looked past Whizzfiddle. “I only see two.”

  “Yes, the other is bringing in the luggage.”

  “So it’s really three plus luggage, then?”

  “Well, yes,” Whizzfiddle said as if judging the dragon’s intellect, “but luggage should be considered a standard item, no?”

  The dragon squinted. “Are you in hotel management or something?”

  “No, but I have stayed at many of the best hotels in the world, so I have a flair for this sort of thing.” He pulled his sleeves up a bit. “Plus, people do tend to travel with extra clothing.”

  “Okay, I guess that’s true.” The dragon rolled its eyes. “Whatever. What’s your name?”

  “Xebdigon Whizzfiddle.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” the dragon said, pulling its head up higher and looking down at Whizzfiddle with big eyes.

  Whizzfiddle was confused by this. “Um…I wasn’t asked?”

  “Murray is a great friend of mine, you know?” the dragon stated.

  On one hand, this was quite surprising; on the other hand, Whizzfiddle had been learning that Murray was a dynamo when it came to socializing. He’d only had his computer and connection to the Undernet for a little over a month and he was already networked to more people than Whizzfiddle had known over his life…and that was a lot of people.

  “He is?”

  “Absolutely,” answered the dragon. “You see, the dragon community has been trying to set up an online poker club for years. We have computers because of the UDFC tournaments coming into the area, meaning that people came in from the Underworld and we all became instant online personalities. But we wanted to have our own community for playing cards.” He leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, “We’re not exactly good with being physically around each other or other creatures for very long, you know?”

  “You don’t say?” Whizzfiddle said in mock surprise.

  “It’s true.” The dragon pulled away. “Well, just a few weeks back this fellow named Murray started to show up in the various rooms. Nice fellow and seems to be an exceedingly fast learner.”

  “No arguing that.”

  “Well, he learned of our dilemma and created a private poker site for us dragons. We allow Murray to play, too, of course, but he’s the only non-dragon.” He leaned in again, this time glancing left and right before saying, “Truth be told, we’ve been considering making him an honorary dragon.”

  “Now that would be something.”

  “I know, right? Anyhoo, any friend of Murray’s is a friend of ours.”

  “That’s…great.”

  And it was.

  One of the many lessons Whizzfiddle had learned during his life was that it was always a good idea to help others, even if it was difficult or uncomfortable to do so. First off, it just made him feel good to know that he could contribute to someone in need. Secondly, five times out of ten, those people would come back to help him at some point when he was in need. Zel, Bekner, and Orophin were proof of that, in addition to Murray the mole.

  “Right,” said the dragon with a much more amicable demeanor. “We have you set up in the presidential suite with a nice view of the arena.”

  “That’ll be lovely, I’m sure,” Whizzfiddle replied, glad that he hadn’t gone with Heliok to get him set up with reservations.

  “It’s our best room,” the dragon said proudly.

  “Honestly?”

  “Only the best for friends of Murray. Note that it’s twenty gold a night.”

  Whizzfiddle choked.

  They walked into the presidential suite and Whizzfiddle could readily understand why it cost as much as it did. The room was very large and the furnishings were posh. It should have been named the “King’s Suite,” from Whizzfiddle’s perspective, though he had met a few presidents in the Underworld who appeared to have far more power than kings.

  “Majestic visions of ancient promontory stands singularly on distant sands with waters crashing their delight,” Eloquen said while dancing around the room.

  “Him like the view,” explained Gungren.

  “At twenty gold a night, he’d damn well better. Charging that much for…” Whizzfiddle grumbled and trailed off.

  Gungren yawned. “It a place to put my head.”

  “Speaking of your head, if you wish to keep it you may want to do that box spell we talked about.”

  “I guess that okay,” Gungren said without much enthusiasm.

  Whizzfiddle needed to push him on it, though. It was the only thing that could possibly save Gungren’s life in the upcoming tournament. He’d only have one he could use, but if used at the proper time it could mean everything.

  “It was a brilliant idea on your part, Gungren,” Whizzfiddle said encouragingly. “Reading the rule book is not something most people do, you know? Me, for example.”

  “Yep.”

  “But you did read it, Gungren, and you found a loophole.”

  “Yep.” He looked out the window with tired eyes. “I just not sure if I want to use that thing.”

  “You can always build it and have it as a just-in-case measure.” Whizzfiddle then went to lean on his sensibilities. “You’re the one who always talks about being properly prepared, remember?”

  “I guess that true.”

  Gungren must have been tired because he didn’t argue back to remind Whizzfiddle that he’d always told his apprentice to just relax and take things in stride. To be fair, that’s precisely what Whizzfiddle felt was the proper thing to do in nearly every circumstance. With his apprentice’s life on the line, though, he was happy to make an exception.

  “I can help, if you want,” he said with some difficulty.

  “Nope. I gotta do it myself or it breaks the rules.”

  “Fine, then.” He put his hand on Gungren’s shoulder. “Well, please do create the box so that I don’t worry any more than I need to.”

  “Okay, Master,” Gungren said after another yawn. “I promise I’ll do it.”

  More Decisions

  Stillwell had been taking meetings all day and was starting to really get into the swing of things. His inhibitions were nearly gone, at least as it related to doing this job. The power was simply intoxicating.

  “If he doesn’t pay up by the end of the week,” he was saying to Bank, “we’ll just have to bend his fingers into odd angles.”

  “That’s pretty harsh, temporary-boss,” Bank replied. “The guy plays the piano for a living.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that. Toes, then?”

  “That’s fair.”

  “Excellent. Now, what other business is on the—”

  The TalkyThingy rang and Stillwell saw that it was Teggins calling. His blood ran cold as his bladder threatened to completely seize up.

  “Everyone out of the office. Now!”

  They all left as if the boss himself had yelled at them. In a manner of speaking, Teggins had left him in charge, so technically, Stillwell was the boss at the moment.

  He fixed his hair, which was dumb seeing that it wasn’t a video call.

  “Hello, this is Stillwell.”

  “What took you so long to answer the call?” Teggins said with a hint of suspicion.

  “I was indisposed, sir,” Stillwell replied smoothly. “The taco truck came by near lunch time and I made the unfortunate decision of ordering two.”

  “Ah, right.” Teggins’ tone relaxed. “Four is my limit, but I’m bigger than you. Anyway, how goes things there?”

  “Wonderfully, sir.”

  “Anyone asking you for stuff?”

  “Stuff?”

  “Decisions on people who ain’t payin’, new loans people want.... That sort of thing.”

  “Ah yes, I see.” Stillwell cleared his throat. “There have been one or two
minor requests. Bank has been assisting in some of the financial decisions. Nothing major, though, I assure you.”

  “Remember that I didn’t put Bank in charge, Stillwell. I put you in charge. Got it?”

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  Teggins grunted, but didn’t push the point any further. “Any questions for me?”

  “Just the one, sir: If I do end up making an unfortunate decision—based on my complete lack of experience doing this line of work—what exactly would happen to me?”

  “You talking physically?” Teggins asked.

  “Well, yes, sir.”

  “Nothing.”

  Stillwell pulled the TalkyThingy away and stared at it for a second. Then he brought it back to his face, thinking he had to have heard Teggins incorrectly.

  “Nothing?”

  “Not a thing,” Teggins answered. “I’m not an unfair person, Stillwell. Kind of hurts to think you could believe otherwise.”

  “Oh, no, sir! It’s just—”

  “If you lose me money, I’ll not lay a finger on you,” Teggins interrupted. He sounded sincere. “Nor will any of my goons. You’ve got my word on that, Stillwell.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  The fact was that Stillwell had been making quite a few decisions over the course of the day that Teggins would probably disapprove of, but Stillwell couldn’t help himself. Besides, again, Teggins had put him in charge.

  “I must say that I was somewhat worried you might—”

  “What I’d do is just tack my losses on to your debt. That way it’s a win-win.”

  “Win-win, sir?”

  “Yeah, I make that money back plus interest over time,” explained Teggins, “and you get to kept your kneecaps in one piece.”

  “Right.”

  “That sounds fair, don’t it?”

  “Absolutely, sir!”

  “Glad we agree.” Even though Stillwell couldn’t see the boss, he had a feeling that the man was wearing a sinister grin. “See, Stillwell, you were worried about nothing.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Meeting Lucille

  The three left the presidential suite the next morning.