Maybe that was why the Elder had agreed to this tournament. Perhaps he thought it was time Esh drew blood that wasn’t in the training setting, but in a circumstance that was truly life or death.
Esh woke up to a hearty meal of bird, mashed veggies, and another nutrition drink. Xep and the Elder didn’t eat but watched in amazement as Esh devoured the entire table’s worth of food.
“Come here, lad,” his old Master said, walking to the secret room. “I have something for you to try on.”
Esh followed him curiously all the way to the back. The Elder pointed at his own set of armor. “Here you are!”
Esh laughed. “I appreciate the offer, Master, but that would never fit me!”
The Elder eyed him with an irritated expression. “We have been together for a long time and have experienced so many strange things and yet you still do not see the wonders that surround you. Here.” The shrinking Elder could barely reach his own suit of armor and swatted Esh’s attempts to help him. Finally, he grasped hold of it. “Put this on.”
Esh did as his Master said and tried his best to slide his head through the chest hole. “Master, can’t I just wear the scrap armor?”
“Hush. Give it a second.”
Esh stood there feeling completely stupid with the heavy chest piece floating over his head. But then the armor seemed to come alive, it moved on its own as the armor stretched and expanded, falling over his head and onto his shoulders.
“Woah!” exclaimed Esh as Rift walked around him strapping the chest piece to his waist. The armor molded to his size and cooled itself down to match his body temperature. A cool sensation touched his skin reminding him of grasping his father’s sword.
“How’s that feel, lad?”
“Like my own skin!” Esh had a huge grin on his face. “I feel like I could sleep in this!”
“I tried making you a set of your own when you were younger but thought against it. You needed to toughen up to the heat on this world.”
Esh didn’t hear a word his Master was saying. He was too busy embracing the coolness of the chest piece. He grabbed the arm vambrace and tried to slide it over his hand but could only manage four fingers. He watched as the vambrace widened itself just enough for him to pull it over his forearm where it adjusted perfected. It wasn’t long before he had dawned the entire outfit.
“How exactly does this thing work? Is the fabric made of sorcery or something?” Esh asked.
The Elder chuckled. “Close. The fabric is made alchemically to adjust to the wearer. It conforms not only to the humanoid’s size but to his or her temperature as well. Everyone in the Order has a suit just like it.”
“Wow. It reminds me of the armored suits the soldiers of Reah wear.”
The Elder nodded. “It’s the same except much more compact and efficient. Plus, the suits the soldiers wear don’t come with these nifty black hooded capes.” The Elder walked behind him and, reaching as high as he could, pulled the black hood over his head.
“I don’t see how I ever lived without this.” Esh was checking himself out in the mirror, astonished by how impressive he looked.
“I’m giving the entire thing to you as a natal sun-cycle gift.”
Esh saw his own jaw drop in the mirror. Was the old Master really giving him such a gift? He couldn’t possibly mean it because then what would the Elder wear when they went hunting or on missions?
“I can’t, Master. It’s too great a gift. Besides, what will you wear?”
Rift gave a snort and spat on the ground, “You can’t possibly think that I could go on with this lifestyle forever, did you, lad? I’m old and tired with no need for such a set of protection. I’m retiring to enjoy the rest of my sun-cycles without bloodshed. She’s all yours.”
Esh was stunned, he had even forgotten his own natal sun-cycle! He had never celebrated his natal sun-cycle at the orphanage because they hadn’t known what sun-cycle it even landed on. Rift knew, however, and always made it a special occasion for Esh.
His Master would always present him with gifts but they were always training related, whether that be books or new punching dummies. This, however, was the most magnificent thing someone had ever given him and he would cherish it for as long as he lived. But he couldn’t help but feel sad at his old Master’s words. He didn’t like the idea of him getting old.
Rift must have read his face for he said, “Now don’t get all sentimental on me, gentle giant. I still have many years to go so stop trying to push me into an early grave!”
Esh smiled and hugged the tiny Elder.
“Ok, ok, that’s enough. Go on, check yourself out in the mirror, I know ya want to. I’ll be out here waiting for you.” Rift waddled out of the room and Esh walked closer to his reflection.
It was few and far between when Esh got to really look at himself. Not that he didn’t care about his appearance but that he rarely had time to think about it. Training was usually the only thing on his mind. He ran his index finger and thumb down his black whiskers. He could see many shiny scars zig-zagging underneath the facial hair. His dark purple hair, curly and long, now draped over his shoulder pauldrons. He looked dirty and unkempt compared to all the clean humanoids he saw in the rich part of Zel. It wasn’t that he didn’t bathe himself with liquid canisters and rags but it was just impossible to stay clean with all the ash on the ground and in the air. His sandy living quarters didn’t help either.
Xep and the Elder wished him good bye as if it were just another normal sun-cycle, probably because they did not want to make him nervous. Too late. His innards felt as if they had tied themselves in deep knots and he constantly felt like spewing diarrhea.
He wasn’t ten paces away before he heard his Master calling after him. “Wait, lad! I forgot to give you one last thing!”
Esh stopped and watched as the Elder disappeared into the hut only to return with something big in his hand. Esh met the Elder half way and his Master grabbed one of his hands and shoved the object into it.
“If you’re gonna fight without a name, do it without a face as well.”
Esh looked at the gift. It was bulky, heavy, and wrapped in black cloth. He unwrapped the gift and looked down upon a helmet that had be shaped into the awesome face of a rektops. It was made with the same obsidian glass the coliseum was built with except it was the same dark purple color as his hair. He let the garment drop out of his hands and realized that it was attached to the helmet as a permanent hood that fell into a long sweeping cape.
“That moon-cycle you asked me if I had ever fought in the tournaments… Well I never answered you. Long story short, before I ever thought of joining the Order, I did fight. But all of that was a long time ago in the early stages of my youth.” He pointed at the helmet in Esh’s hand. “I wore this to cover my face but it wasn’t the color it is now. Xep helped me with some of his alchemy tricks to turn it to your specific hair color. It should now also function just like the rest of your suit. Let it be a reminder of where you come from.” The Elder unbuttoned the old hood and cape from Esh’s armor which would be replaced by the helm.
Esh placed the helmet over his head and it morphed to his shape. The coolness swept over his cheeks and it felt as though he wasn’t wearing anything at all.
“I won’t forget, Master.”
30 - Barish
He tried using all the willpower he had to walk and preserve his energy, but his nervous excitement would not hear of it. He ran the entire way to the coliseum, making the journey in half the time it took him in the first journey.
The sun had barely turned its face towards the world below when Esh made it to the entrance. It was a good thing he had left so early for fighters were already being called to their blocks. Most of them stood in a crowded mass listening to a short fat male reading out their names and the block they were assigned to.
There was a diverse variety of opponents here, each wearing a different assortment of armor from light leather to heavy plated. At first, he thought
he might stand out with his eco-suit but was relieved to find others bearing more extravagant armor than himself. A few of the smaller males didn’t wear any armor at all, which meant that this must have been their last option in life. That… or they were crazy.
Esh’s eyes widened when he saw the first ever humanoid his size. The fellow giant noticed his stares and met it with a toothless smile. He then took a side step to reveal a male who shared the exact face and size. His twin. Both of them spit simultaneously towards him, the spittle landing on the unfortunate smaller opponents below them. Esh decided it was best to carry on.
He made his way past the crowd and found that there was a large sign posted on the entrance but hardly any of the contestants bothered to look at it, probably because they couldn’t read. Esh found his name and what he saw made his lungs stop working. He was in the first block to fight.
He remembered his training and breathed through his diaphragm, not through his shoulders. A calming exercise. He knew the first thing to do was to examine his enemies and find weaknesses. He turned to scan the crowd. Something was wrong.
Each of the fighters were carrying their own weapons, weapons varying from war hammers, to bows, to swords forged in shapes he had never seen. A sudden panic took over him. Wasn’t he told that weapons would be handed out from the coliseum’s armory?
Esh tapped the shoulder of a very hairy male who turned with a war cry, ready to strike whoever had touched him.
“Oh... sorry, I was just wandering why everyone was carrying a weapon.”
The harry male looked up at him in a dumb aw, his mouth open as he breathed a horrendous breath. He only had three teeth in his upper jaw and no teeth on the bottom, only rotted gums.
He tried to shove Esh away with both hands but only managed to push himself backwards. He tried again and again, but was only able to sway the hybrid giant slightly. With a final grunt of frustration, the raunchy mouthed male turned his back to Esh and ignored him.
“Shoulda known better than to ask a simpleton,” said an unfamiliar voice from behind.
Esh turned to face a male wearing nothing but a small metal groin protector and a cape strapped around his neck by a golden chain. A brown leather baldric crossed over his shoulder holding a massive two-handed sword to his back. The weapon looked far too heavy for the wielder. The male’s body had no fat on it and a decent amount of lean muscle covered his bones. His legs looked like they could dance around an enemy with ease. His hair was the lightest red Esh had ever seen in Reah, making it look almost blond. It was cut short to keep the bangs from his eyes. His face was handsome and was very different from Esh’s, being that it was without scars and cleanly shaven.
“The name’s Barish,” he extended his hand. “I fight in the second block. You?”
Esh looked down at the hand for a few seconds before taking it into an awkward shake. “Kudra. My name is Kudra,” he lied.
“Don’t tell me you’re a simpleton as well.” Barish said, prying his hand out of Esh’s clammy shake.
“No, sorry, it’s just… I was asking that male why everyone was carrying a weapon. I was told the tournament would supply them.”
“They did say that,” Barish nodded. “But they changed their minds. Do you not live near here?”
“No,” Esh admitted, “I actually live pretty far away from here.”
“I should have guessed,” Barish said, examining Esh up and down. “From your accent I want to say you are from the poor district but looking at your armor.” Barish allowed himself to grab the pauldron and give it a shake but Esh could see he was really looking at his obsidian helmet. “I’d say you were a slave and the owner is using you as a champion. I must say, your owner had good choice with the rektops design. Absolutely terrifying!”
“You better watch it,” Esh said in a growl, detecting the male’s sarcasm. He advanced towards the male with one big step, he would not be embarrassed like he had been last time.
Barish put his hands out to stop him, a big smile on his face. “Easy, easy, big male! I was only trying to make a joke.”
“Just get out of my way.” Esh trudged past him but he heard Barish following him.
“Hey, hey I apologized didn’t I? Here, look, I’ll even let you borrow my sword for your fight! Given you aren’t in my block, of course.”
Esh stopped and let Barish catch up to him. “Why would you do such a kind thing to a male you have never met?”
“There is such a thing as kindness in this world, you only have to open your eyes to look for it. What block are you in?”
“I fight first.” Esh felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. Saying it out loud put a pit in his stomach. How was he going to fight without a weapon? “How do I know this isn’t just some trick of yours?”
Barish scratched his head, “Not really sure how me giving you my weapon would be any sort of jest. But fine, if you don’t want to take me up on my overly kind offer then less competition for me!”
Barish turned and stalked off leaving Esh to watch his only chance at protection glimmer under the Red sun.
Esh had two options, he could either incapacitate an opponent right at the start of the battle and take their weapon. Or, he could take Barish up on his offer at the risk of… well, a risk he wasn’t sure of.
“Excuse me, ugh… Barish…”
The male wheeled around with a big smirk on his face. “Yeessss, can I help you?”
Esh swallowed and his semi-pointed ears burned red. He was glad Barish couldn’t see his face through the helmet. “I’d like to borrow that sword of yours.”
“Are you not afraid that this sword of mine will combust into a fiery explosion as soon as the match starts?”
Esh’s paused. He had not considered this.
“Oh for the love of… here, just take it. I think you’re going to need it.” Barish pulled the baldric over his head and handed it to Esh with both hands. “Go on, it’s not going to explode.”
Esh grasped the hilt in one hand and found it even heavier than his granite sword he’d left behind. He gave it a few wide arced swings with a smile. It was a good sword, well balanced and properly edged. He hadn’t swung the blade at Barish but the male backed up anyway.
“I hope you’ve used one of those before. You can’t just rely on your strength; it takes skill too.”
“What makes you think I don’t know how to handle a sword?”
Barish shrugged, “Well, I already know it’s your first time in the tournaments here. You’re also not in the army or else you would have already rubbed it in my face.” He put a contemplative hand to his chin. “Judging by how enormous you are, the size of your forearms, I’d say some sort of smith or builder.”
Esh sheathed the blade and tightened the baldric over his waist like a belt. Unlike Barish, Esh was tall enough to hold the blade at his hips, keeping it at a slight angle for a faster draw. “Not even close. I was chosen to relieve Zel of its trash problem.”
Barish tilted his head. “You? A trash male? How on Reah did you gain that size of yours?”
“I eat a lot.”
Barish laughed and clapped Esh on the shoulder. “That must be it! Now walk with me, I’ll give you some tips.”
He put his hand on Esh’s waist as if he were his best friend and led him.
31 - The Arena
“See that male?” Barish pointed at a male with a half-shaved head with muscles so large that his head looked way too small by comparison. “That’s Big L, he’s one of the strongest warriors here and he damn sure knows how to use that Warhammer on his back. Watch out for him.”
Before Esh could speak Barish had pointed at another humanoid, “And him,” he said, his finger pointed at an overly skinny fighter who looked to be a walking skeleton, “Careful not to die by his hand. He’s a pervert for the dead… So I hear, anyways.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” Barish whispered, pulling Esh’s ear to his mouth, “… that he likes
to do his special business with the humanoids he kills. Again, so I hear.”
“Ok, that’s enough. I didn’t come here to hear the gossip. I just came here to fight, win, and go home.”
Barish tsked. “You are so very new. How do you think one wins the first round? You have to be the last fighter standing, meaning you either have to kill everyone or make them submit to you.”
“Then I will be the last fighter standing,” Esh said simply. “Thanks again for the sword, I will return it, cleaned, and in proper condition.”
“Err… Thanks. Oh look!” Barish jumped up and turned Esh’s head. “Your block is preparing to enter! You better get over there.”
Esh’s lips went into a tight line, the diarrhea feeling starting up again in his stomach. “Ya, I better.”
Esh walked up behind the large crowd of fighters in front of the entrance to the arena. Some were kneeling, edging their weapons over their knees while some fixed their armor and made sure all was properly connected. However, there were others who found it best to flap their gums about how easy this fight was going to be and how everyone should probably just head home.
The gate before them was five times Esh’s height and made of metal bars one might see in a jail cell. Each bar was situated so close together that even the skinniest of humanoids wouldn’t be able to maneuver their bodies through. However, this didn’t stop some from trying. If Esh squinted his eyes he could make out the bony remains of arms stuck between some of the bars.
“Listen up!” cried the same female who had registered Esh for the fight. She walked in front of the group of fighters without any signs of fear. She noticed him and added, “I’m only gonna say this once for you newest fighters! You either kill or get killed! If you submit, then the fighter you submit to has the right to either show you mercy or finish you off. There are no further rules and anything else goes. Any questions?”
The Four Territories: The Dark Assassin Book One Page 19