by Ko, John
The Fate nods reluctantly.
“I’ve stitched up the deepest cut and applied ointment to the others. If you are careful and stay off your feet for a day or two, they have a chance of healing enough to continue competing.”
The Fate throws his hands up in celebration. Everybody else joins him.
“But,” Monster interrupts, “Absolutely no putting pressure on them. That means no walking, no standing, and absolutely no training for the next couple days.”
To everyone’s surprise, the Fate actually follows doctor’s orders, except for the one to stay in bed. But Monster lets that one slide. Their Captain hasn’t been sleeping in one of the many plush feather beds provided by the inn anyway. He’s been camping out in the courtyard ever since they first arrived. And even though winter is here, Poe and Wake have been joining him out there, as well. Brother Monster can’t complain; having to only share the room with Sense is pretty nice.
As fortune would have it, they raced on the first day of competition. It takes another couple for the rest of the field to all get their shot at beating their time. With the additional days of rest, the Fate’s feet heal well enough to avoid worry over reopening any wounds. He was lucky … this time. But he can’t keep acting so recklessly.
The days go by quickly. While the Fate rests, the rest of them continue to practice as hard as ever. Afterward, Monster spends most of his free time exploring the culinary offerings the big city has to offer. He’s still under Captain’s orders to match Riser, bite for bite. He grumbles about it, but it is just an act at this point. The reality is, it’s him who’s now dragging the Daughter around. From one end of the capital to the other, they search for new tastes. She complains about it loudly, but always listens intently as he describes the history and makeup of each dish. As long as the portions are large and the dish contains some sort of meat, she seems happy enough.
This particular afternoon they are visiting a particularly hard to find noodle cart. He wonders if the trouble they went through searching for it is adding to how delicious it tastes. As the Half-Orc slurps up the last of his broth, he looks over to see the Daughter has barely eaten anything at all.
“Riser, is something wrong?”
“No, why?” She stirs the noodles in her still full bowl. Despite the differences in their sizes, Monster has never once finished his plate first.
“Nothing,” he says, knowing better than to press the matter.
Finally, she looks up and says, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
She puts down her spoon and takes a deep breath. “You know how I’m always saying I’m the strongest Daughter?”
Monster nods.
“Well, that’s true and all, but I can’t claim to be the strongest from Silla.”
The Half-Orc is more than surprised at the admission. This is quite out of character for his dining partner.
“You know about Gregory’s House, right?” Monster nods again. He’s learned more of Silla than he would care to admit with each passing meal.
“The current Alcendor In-Training … well, the truth is … he’s beaten me.” she tells him, staring into her bowl. If there’s one thing he’s learned about girls, it’s that sometimes a Half-Orc just has to keep his mouth shut. This is one of those times.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
He shakes his head.
“Do you understand what I’m even telling you?” She raises her voice, but lowers it just as quickly. “Even if I am Top Daughter, I’m not the strongest in Silla. It’s the first time ever that the First Daughter has lost to someone from Gregory’s House!”
Even though the concept is foreign, maybe even trivial to him, he understands just how difficult something like this must be for her to admit.
“He’s beaten me more than once,” Riser says. “Do you know how unforgivable that is?”
Monster looks down at his empty bowl and shakes his head, wondering just who it is she can’t forgive.
“It’s never happened before!” she tells him. Monster tries his best to look understanding, but just ends up baring his fangs.
“I won’t begrudge him. Daisho Sixblades is skilled, but …”
“I understand. You’re the mightiest Daughter. You should be the strongest in Silla. I don’t know much, but I know this much: if it’s involves a match between you and anybody … I’d bet on you any day,” Monster says. “If I wasn’t against gambling, that is.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he answers. “I thought you were strong when we first met, but you’re even stronger now. You may not think that anyone has noticed, but I’ve noticed how you’ve been sneaking off to practice alone all this time. I don’t know where you’ve been going or what you’ve been up to, but I do know that you come back exhausted … and smiling.
“He might have beaten you once, even many times, but I know this: the next time you face him, he doesn’t stand a chance.”
Riser cracks a half-hearted smile and nods to herself. “Good, ‘cause he just joined The Royal Team. We’ll probably see him before all’s said and done.”
“Good.”
Monster reaches over and takes the bowl of cold noodles in front of his friend and orders her a new one with double meat. She looks at him, surprised.
“You should try a bowl while it’s piping hot. Do not let something you cannot change like the past distract you from enjoying the present.”
“You sound like …”
“I know, I know. Don’t say it, though.”
Chapter 49
MASTER OF THE DARK WIND
[Training Grounds, Silla]
That girl never ceases to amaze her. It only took the Azurian from the Slate a couple of weeks to grasp the basics. And already the girl moves like a mirage. Though, it will be years before she truly masters it, the Master of the Dark Wind reassures herself. Still …
“Enough! We are done for today.” Her student makes her jealous as much as proud. Even more, it stirs something deep within in her. A memory of a feeling, a feeling that the world holds wonders.
Even though no one so much as says a word to the outcast Daughter, she can hear the whispers on the wind. It’s all anyone talks about these days: how the current First Daughter’s Team came out of nowhere to win the first event. The stories are enough to make her want to see it for herself, this Fate and his teammates—especially the Half-Orc. A smile plays across her lips and she spies her student looking at her strangely.
The Master of The Dark Wind was once on a team that came out of nowhere to win it all. In fact, she made it all the way to the Twin Isles of Ascecia during her pilgrimage. She fought the last Orc Chieftain himself, but the journey ended only in disappointment. She came back to a home grown foreign, with questions that she could not answer. Still, the infatuation has never gone away. I must see this Half-Orc for myself.
“Ieiri, would you like to go see this Fate of yours?”
The girl eyes her warily, but her answer is desperate, almost a plea. “Yes, but …”
“If we leave tonight, we may have a chance of catching the conclusion of the second set of games. If they make it that far, that is.” Enada points to her pack. “I packed last night. Go gather your things and we’ll depart upon your return.”
A thousand questions flash across the girl’s face, but she simply asks, “Why?”
“The same reason anyone does anythingt … I want to.”
Chapter 50
BROTHER MONSTER
[Midnight Auditorium, Saranghae]
“As captain, I should go first,” the Fate declares before their first King’s Corridor Match. It’s a very special event, one reserved strictly for the Grand Finale, and Monster’s just learned its full history and rules a few of days ago.
The game is named for a famous battle between twin brothers, both vying for a kingdom long ago forgotten. The war was said to have started on a battlefield between armies as evenly matched as their pr
ospective kings. It ended, however, in a narrow hallway, where only one warrior from each side could battle at a time. As one would fall, he was replaced by another, and so on and so on, until finally only two brothers stood, and in the end … neither.
King’s Corridor pays homage to the tale. The hallway is long gone, replaced with a large ring, but the concept remains much the same: only one Crier from each team fights until a side has none. It’s not as popular as Flag, which has always been the favorite of the Three Kingdoms, but it is a close second. The fact that it’s the only event to take place indoors, with most of the lights out, only adds to its pageantry.
According to Sense, the order in which each team fights is as important as the skill and talent of its members. It often leads to a game before the actual game, one in which each side tries to guess the other’s lineup and how to best match it. But the Fate doesn’t care about any of that.
As soon as Monster cleared him to fight, the Fate began insisting on going first. There isn’t much anyone can say.
Monster wonders what the auditorium would look like with the lights on. Would it be just as fancy as all the other buildings in the city? It’s far too dark to tell. He can’t even see how many there are in the crowd, but he can hear them—whispering to one another, sounding like the rustling of so many leaves in the wind.
He shifts his weight from one side to another as he sits in a chair far too small for him. Why couldn’t they just have benches like they do for every other event? Just because we fight alone, doesn’t mean we have to sit that way also.
But he realizes that they do. There is a title for each seat and they determine the order that they will fight in. He can’t remember any of the silly names, just that the last one is called King. Though the Captain doesn’t care at all about that; all he wants to do is go first.
Suddenly, a single light shines down, illuminating the large ring before them. He can make out the shadowy forms of their opponents on the other side of the field. They seem confident.
The announcer says something, but he can barely hear it. The crowd, however, does and they cheer—more loudly for the Fate than even his more well known opponent. I did everything that I could. His wounds are more than sufficiently healed, as long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. The thought scares him as he watches the Fate step into the ring.
To Monster’s relief, the Fate dispatches the first and even the second of his opponents with relative ease. The third is a Healer and he uses his Unleash. The crowd likes that. The fourth is no easy matter, however. And by the end of it, the Captain is limping, favoring his stitched foot. Already having faced three opponents, the Captain struggles against the worthy opponent.
In the end the Fate prevails, but the cost is high. Crimson footprints cover half the ring.
From the sidelines, they begin to beg and plead for him to submit. He’s more than done his fair share. Riser curses him and Rachel sobs for him to stop. As his doctor, Monster tries to order him to leave, but he knows it will do no good. The fool doesn’t know how to quit.
But the crowd loves it, bloody footprints and all. By the time the other team’s King is down, the circle is covered in them.
After inspecting his stitches, Monster has to tell him the truth. It is not good for him to fight on it, but to do so will cause no further injury. The stitches held. Only after the Fate agrees to be King for the next match do they begin talking to him again.
The next round, Riser makes it to the fourth member of the opposing squad, but it takes Wake to finish him and the match off.
The semifinals end in a similar fashion. For the rest of the afternoon, the championship match for King’s Corridor is all anyone can talk about. The Fate once again begins to insist on going first. If he won’t listen to common sense, I’ll have to make him.
“Something is very wrong. I cannot move my legs,” the Fate says.
“It’s the tea I gave you,” Monster says. “You gave me no choice. You need to stop pushing yourself so hard.” Even if his stitches will probably hold, I’m not going to let him risk it.
“I am still going first,” the Fate declares. “I do not wish to miss another match.”
“That’s fine. Just realize you’re paralyzed from the waist down,” Monster says. “And with the amount of Sandman’s Root I put in your tea, you’ll be fast asleep, sooner rather than later.”
“I thought the tea was to aid in my healing.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s for your own good.” He is genuinely sorry, but there are some things more important than a game. “If you hadn’t insisted on going first this wouldn’t have been necessary.”
The Fate tries to stifle a yawn. “This is not going to stop me.”
“I know,” Monster says. “Can I at least have the white flag?”
“No, that is for the captain to hold and I am the captain,” he replies stubbornly.
“I promise I won’t throw in the flag unless absolutely necessary.”
The Fate stares back at him, trying to decide what to do.
“Look, I believe we can win this. I believe we have a chance at the Triple Threat Feat. I give you my word that I will do everything I can to see that we achieve victory. But you can’t go in there and have another setback. There’s still a lot of competition left. We need you.”
“Yaksok?” the Captain asks, eyelids already drooping.
“I vow it,” Monster promises, sticking out his hand. The Fate pulls out the white piece of cloth and hands it over.
Chapter 51
PRINCESS
[Royal Box, Midnight Auditorium, Saranghae]
The darkness becomes her. She is surrounded in it, her champion to her right, her keeper to her left, and behind them, the rest of her people. Still, she feels alone. Maybe, someday … after this is all over, they’ll understand.
The crowd is so silent that the pitch-black auditorium seems to go on forever. She knows why they hold their breath and it’s not for her team.
This year’s Grand Finale is the most exciting that anyone can remember. No year before has a team come out of nowhere to cause such a stir. More times than not, the bet-makers are spot on, but they didn’t even place odds on the no-name team making it this far. The Relay Race is one thing—many a year a specialist team takes the Race—but for the very same team to fight so far into King’s Corridor is rather unexpected. Everyone wants to see if Monsters to Believe In can pull off another miracle. Almost everyone.
The Princess sits front and center in the Royal Box. Beside her, Kase Shake fumes in silence until he can take it no more.
“I should be out there.”
“It’s a game of styles and matchups. You know this,” the Princess tells him. “I told you before, if the Fate was going last, you’d be in. But if Esperanza’s King then we’d be going with this lineup. And I just happened to find out that the troublemaker will be going first.”
“I’ve heard it all before, but it still makes no sense for me not to be out there. I can beat any of them one-on-one.”
“Of that, there is no doubt, but … “ She knows there is no use in explaining it again. He’ll never accept it. But she is the leader of The Royal Team and it is up to her to do what is best for them all. “The tacticians have run every scenario imaginable. This lineup has the best chance at success: 99.9%, to be exact. Victory is virtually guaranteed.
“Too bad you’re not as good with a sword as you are with your spears,” she adds. “We need someone who can wield it as our King.”
“Whatever,” Kase huffs. “This still feels wrong.”
She looks over at her oldest and dearest friend. “I’m sorry, Kase. This is the way it has to be.” I can't risk losing either: the match or your confidence.
Finally, a huge spotlight pierces the darkness. All eyes are drawn to the center ring. The announcer’s voice echoes through the stadium. “Introducing, the lowest ranked team ever to make it to the Finals once again. The one, the only Mooooooooonsters to Believe
In! First up, their Captain, the one who ran it all, the Faaaaaaaaaaate.”
Wake and the Half-Orc carry the Fate onto the battlefield on their shoulders. When the uplifted boy raises his arms high, the crowd cheers wildly. Since when did he become such a showman …
“And representing the best of Wysteria, the Chosen Few, handpicked by their leader, the Princess herself, The Rooooooooyal Team! In their initial slot, one half of this year’s Top Duo, the Conflagrator, Cales Cent”
The crowd applauds politely, but the Princess is surprised at the few boos that are mixed in. That’s never happened before, she thinks. Not that it matters. Winning is all that matters.
A wisp of a boy wrapped in robes of red walks towards the center of the ring. He smirks in superiority at his opponent. He stretches his arms out wide and sends out a burst of flames. For that, the crowd oohs and aahs.
The Fate draws his Stick and holds it before him. The official counts down the match and quickly steps out of the ring. Cales Cent assumes a defensive stance and waits. So does his opponent. Neither makes a move even long after the horn has blown.
After a long moment of staring, the Conflagrator asks, “Aren’t you going to do something?”
The Fate just looks at him and yawns. He actually looks sleepy. Something is wrong here. This is not like him at all.
The Fiery Mage was prepped to expect an aggressive offensive. This lack of action confuses him. But Cales Cent is not one to be thrown off by the unpredicted. The Conflagrator and his partner have reigned supreme over two-on-two matches all year. He is more than experienced.
Cales conjures a ball of fire. He tosses it at the smiling boy, who deflects it with a swipe of his Stick. This time Cales summons two and throws them in quick succession. The first is blocked, but the second actually grazes the troublemaker.