Fight For Your Right

I sit, eating a late breakfast with the rest of the Seekers.

Umatoko enters the inn and walks to our table. He holds up a letter with a broken seal. "We've all been invited to a pre-tournament banquet," he says, then picks up a bread roll. "It begins at nine tonight."
A banquet? I glance down at my coat and grimace. I wouldn't make much of an impression with it in this state. I stuff a bread roll of my own into my mouth, stand and head back to my room.
I spend the rest of the day beating the dirt and dust out of my coat, and give it a spot-wash to rinse out old blood. I hold it up. It's so faded now, brilliant blue washed out over the years, bottom edges tattered and ragged. I would have to see if there's anything to be done about that. With a resigned sigh, I pull my coat back on and meet the others to walk to the banquet together.

---

The inside of the Touch of Hikari host many odd creatures mixed together. About every sort of creature and race I could think of, and some I've never seen, chat and eat within the huge chamber. We move around as a group, trying to gauge some of the teams we could be up against in the morning. I glance around for Feng Da, but can't find him in the crowd. A couple of polite and boring hours go by before we head up to the Apex.
We walk down a hallway and enter into a huge chamber. The overabundance of light shines on the light-blue stone walls, leaving no shadows to be found. The ceiling rises into a dome, a fractured pattern of colors dancing all the way up with a large amount of yellow concentrated at the center. Directly below this expressive mural of the sun is a set of mirrors split and angled in such a way as to view the other two hallways.
We walk along a wine-purple colored rug into one of the mirrors, as directed. There's no resistance. As I step onto a stone landing, I see Mildred already knocking on a door a few steps up. I follow her as she shuffles beyond the occupied room and up to the next door of the spiral tower. This knock prompts no response, so we filter in one-by-one into the tiny room. I plop onto one of the seven beds and manage to kick off my boots before rolling over to sleep.

---

I wake feeling great, though I'm not the first up. An elaborate fruit platter grabs my attention and I nibble at the sweet food. Wander, having already eaten, opens the door. Instead of the staircase, the door opens to an armory. I leave my normal equipment on my bed—as the others have done—and step out after Wander, taking in the sight.
The opposite wall is a series of stone bars, allowing the view of the arena and far crowd. The crowd is enormous, wrapping around the arena in several layered tiers. I tear my gaze away and search the racks in the pit for weapons I can make use of. I manage to locate a saber, short sword, and a few daggers among the myriad of weaponry and armor. I gather back with the others, fiddling with the saber, getting used to the unfamiliar feel. The hilt doesn't fit my palm as well as my own. To be expected, of course.
The rounds of single combatants pass quickly. "It's hard to stay happy here but I'm trying," Arslan's voice echoes in my head. I take some test swings with the loaned swords.
"My father is out here. Find him, find the answers." I try to ignore the words, for now, focusing on the arena. White stones make up the large square platform. A fighter takes a hard hit, slamming into the ground, and the ground buckles beneath him.
"Meet me at the place where the sands of time meet the fires of regret." The crowd roars from above us as the arena rocks, causing waves to ripple from the water surrounding it.
"The place where I reside is somehow within the Nightmare Realm and the waking." I close my eyes and take in a breath.
"Vae, I believe in you." I release my breath.
"You're next." No, wait. That wasn't my own thoughts. I open my eyes and mere moments later my scenery shifts.
I'm no longer in the pits, and more alarmingly, none of my companions are near me.
Despite the cheering, energetic crowd, it's eerily quiet in the arena. For a tense split-second, nothing happens. My eyes flit around the arena, taking quick stock of the six archers and one monk-looking fellow.
The twang of bowstrings breaks the silence. Instinctively, I crouch. Mordax—across the arena—jerks with the impact of several arrows. Not far from Mordax come grunts from Luban and Umatoko as more arrows find their targets. Shen Po's curse pulls my eyes to an arrow in his arm.
Mordax's infernal roar rolls through the stadium. My sights lock on the archer who shot Shen Po, the closest enemy to me.

I sprint forward, gaining momentum for a thrust. My saber plunges into my target as I lunge, pushing her back several steps. Moving with the strike, I spin, flicking my saber out of her chest in a downward arc, then swing my short sword upward cutting across her stomach.

Gasping, the woman whips out a short sword, cutting at me. I dance to the side and pivot my blades to deflect the attack.

Suddenly, darkness swallows me. I can't see. My heartbeat spikes. But I hear a victorious cry from Mordax and the pounding of Umatoko's hooves in the distance. "I've got you, don't worry," Shen Po's voice says in my head. I take a quick breath in, hoping the half-elven archer is still in front of me. "Viske," I whisper and tensely wait.
A small smile emerges over my face as a splash answers my hopes.
My smile quickly fades as I creep blindly through the darkness. Damn it, Shen Po, the enemy is gone, can't you get rid of this? I take a few more tentative steps, gently moving my swords around me as a barrier. A bit to my right, I hear Umatoko bark a laugh. Likely, he isn't in this darkness.

I move toward Umatoko's voice, trying to get out. The hairs on my arms rise with a familiar tingle of static, though it isn't coming from me. The sensation passes by, and with it, the darkness recedes from around me. From behind, a feminine yelp rings out in the darkness.
I examine the scene in front of me. Umatoko charges by, Luban on his back grasping tight. His pike only grazes the archer, but he stops mere feet behind her. I spot another archer behind the trio. As I sidestep to better get her in my sights, I catch Umatoko rear his hind legs and kick his target squarely. I focus and release my spell with a hiss. "Viske."
But I don't see her run.
Instead, my breath is knocked out of me as my back slams into the ground and the dark ceiling above greets my eyes.
I grasp at the arrow lodged in my left shoulder. A flash of light blinks from my right. I quickly snap the shaft with a soft grunt. I start to roll and lift myself when another arrow pierces into my thigh. A gasp escapes my lips, turning to a cry as yet another arrow drives itself into my upper arm.

Darkness starts to creep over me. This time, I'm grateful for Shen Po's magic. I take a few quick breaths and hold the last, readying myself. Snap! I release my held breath. Snap! I steady my breathing. Shafts clear of impeding me, I roll out of the darkness and bounce to my feet, wincing at the sharp pain in my leg.
I act quickly. Near the corner of the arena is Mordax, staggering and flanked by an archer and the monk. I swing my saber in a horizontal arc in front of me. Mordax vanishes in a pillar of light. My right arm thrusts forward, pointing my short sword at where he stood. "Knuse!" I speak and let the magic flow out.
The cracking boom is followed near instantly by a pillar of light.
Umatoko charges in, pike slicing the monk's side and Luban's outheld sword cutting her shoulder. The monk turns to face the centaur, only to receive a hoof to the face.
A balled gout of flame soars over my head from Shen Po, splashing onto the remaining archer.
I turn and focus my will before she can retaliate. "Viske," I utter and flick my saber assuredly. Even from here, I can see the half-elf's eyes go wide before she turns and runs off the arena.
I ready myself to rush in with Umatoko and Luban, but halt. Umatoko trots around the goat—Mildred—and stabs the remaining foe, hoisting her to his side. Luban lashes out, planting his sword into the monk's eye. She vanishes in a flash of light.
The roar of the audience fills my ears. I look around, straightening my stance. I stow my blades with a bit of flourish, biting back a wince from the pain in my shoulder.
Then we are teleported back into the pits, crammed next to Wander, still transformed as a snake from the battle. I squeeze my way out into another segmented area to find a cleric to treat my wounds. It won't be long until the next fight. But it will be a long day.