Change of Chaos

by Jacinta Jade

  Yet no sooner had her arms shifted their weight than the male snaked his arms up around hers, attempting to gain a grip. When his efforts were thwarted by the mud coating Siray’s almost-bare body, she forgot her earlier caution and grinned at him.

  In response, the male narrowed his eyes and shifted his hands higher, pushing his hands against her shoulders. Siray was confused by this move until the male locked his grip, and promptly rolled both their bodies.

  Now their positions were reversed, the male grinning down at her from above.

  Siray barely noticed the mud soaking into her back and hair as she realised her arms were securely pinned to either side of her head. Breathing hard, Siray thrashed her body about in the mud like a fish on a dry bank, but the male only leaned his weight forwards to apply more pressure, making the blood pound in her arms and hands. Her mind churned, trying to think of a way out of this.

  She could not fight him strength for strength.

  But she could use his own strength against him.

  Aware of the eyes that would be assessing her even now, Siray decided to try something new. She gave up her squirming suddenly and relaxed her upper body as she breathed out, causing the male to slide forwards as she ceased to offer resistance to his grip. In the same moment, she contracted the muscles in her abdomen, silently thanking the trainers for all the workouts that had made her core so strong. In the few precious breaths she had while the male’s body was tipped forwards and his grip was uncertain, Siray was able to twist and worm her legs around to bring her muddy feet up and under the male’s arms before he could understand what she was doing. As he looked down, her muddy feet were already sliding up and across his soaked shirt to find easy purchase against his broad shoulders. Her small feet positioned on the dip where his shoulders met his chest, Siray exerted effort through her legs, pushing off against the male with explosive force. His shoulders flew backwards, and his hands were wrenched away from hers, his arms weak against the strength of her legs. As the male’s hands landed behind him to halt his backwards fall, Siray kicked out with her right leg again at his chest. A delaying tactic, it earned her the few more breaths she needed to move her hips out from under his.

  Her torso now free, Siray immediately curled her knees up to her chest and then continued the movement so that she ended up doing a complete backwards-rolling somersault, ending up squatting with one hand braced before her in the mud and even more of the muck in her hair and face.

  Stable once more, Siray rose to her feet just as the male recovered and gained his own, a mere arm’s length away.

  There was a moment of silence as they eyed each other.

  Siray’s mind was analysing, hypothesizing, and churning through scenarios so fast that all she was aware of was results. She was too close to the male—his strength would win over hers. But she couldn’t back away swiftly.

  New plan. Defeat his next assault, then get some distance.

  The male reached for her, and Siray flattened her hands as she prepared to ward off his grip.

  Boom!

  Startled, Siray reflexively turned her head to look towards the sound. The drum. Upon remembering that the sounding of the drum signalled the end of the round, she took a deep breath, her body relaxing as she watched the male also relax and turn to walk off the field to the other side.

  Elation began to flood through her, and a slight smile came to her lips. It dropped off just as fast as another thought exploded into her mind with brilliant sharpness.

  Tensing again, she whipped her head around, realising that the test was still far from over. Already forgetting her previous opponent as she shifted her feet in the mud, she braced herself once more as she watched her female opponent approach her at a cautious jog. Her feet firmly under her, Siray adjusted her stance so her weight was farther forwards on her lead foot as the female drew closer. Adrenaline pumped through Siray, causing her to notice everything that might matter to this fight. The female had her long dark hair braided and out of her face. The female also appeared to be mostly dry, and she had chosen to keep her boots on, despite what she must have witnessed only moments earlier. She appeared to be a whole head taller than Siray herself. It also looked like she had misbuttoned the bottom of her jacket—potentially nervous about today.

  Siray gave herself a mental shake, attempting to focus her mind only on the female’s body in order to watch for signs of attack. She sent out a puff of air before her to push a red wisp of escaping hair to the side. Even though she was even more covered in mud following the fight with the male, that one piece had seemingly evaded the mud completely, allowing it to float rebelliously before her.

  Breathing quickly in, her eyes stayed glued to the form of the female. Drawing her eyes up from the shoulders of the female to lock their gazes, Siray took an experimental step closer to test how the female would approach this fight.

  The female took the invitation even more willingly than she had expected, taking a large step forwards and to the side as she whipped out a backhanded blow at Siray’s head.

  Siray instinctively brought up an arm to head height to block the punch and knock the offending arm to the side, tensing as she prepared to deliver a counterblow with her other arm. She had just begun extending her right arm when pain and fire erupted across her ribs.

  Siray might have screamed at the pain, but there was no air in her lungs to use. The surprisingly vicious kick the female had landed against her unprotected torso caused Siray to retreat a few steps, one hand clutching instinctively at her ribs. The blow had fallen right where her torso protector would have absorbed the blow. Point taken.

  As Siray gasped for air, the sounds of her own breathing were ragged, and the quick rise and fall of her chest actually caused pain on that side. Fractured rib, maybe. Nothing she could do about it right now, but more importantly, she could still function.

  Narrowing her eyes, she reassessed her strategy. She would need to adapt fast. Taking advantage of the female gathering herself before another assault, Siray pretended to stumble backwards a little, dropping her guard from her face as she made a show of trying to protect her ribs.

  Easy to do when it wasn’t entirely a pretence.

  The female pursued her, appearing happy to press her advantage with her opponent clearly intimidated and injured. Confident, the female stepped in closer, flicking up her knee towards Siray’s midsection.

  Siray waited until the female had committed to the attack, then she snaked out her hands in a flash, trapping the leg even as she stepped around it. In the same heartbeat, she twisted her upper body back in and tightened her core as she brought a fist up to deliver a quick uppercut into the female’s stomach. She delivered the hit with enough force that she was sure her opponent would feel it even through the body armour.

  Releasing her grip on the trapped leg as the female curled her body upwards in response to the blow, Siray flicked up the same hand and delivered a quick whipping hit to the female’s cheek, which wasn’t protected by the helmet.

  Siray didn’t linger but stepped quickly out of range again and then raised her guard once more.

  The female had stumbled back from the multiple hits but was now straightening up, a bruise already blossoming where the back of Siray’s fist had connected with her face.

  A primal part of her pleased, Siray curled her hips inward to assist in protecting her lower body against any frontal attack.

  As she and the female circled, Siray gradually stepped in closer. If she stayed near, then the female would have to resort to using her hands only.

  After doing a complete circle around each other, Siray gave a quick flex of a shoulder muscle, then dropped into a low stance as she whipped her left leg out in a sweeping move to connect with the back of the female’s lower leg. Her shoulder movement doing its job as bait, Siray saw the dark-haired female blink in surprise as Siray’s leg sweep caused her to stumble.

  Stumble—but not fall, as Siray had intended.

  Sira
y straightened from her crouch and advanced at the same time as the female threw another kick, this time leaning well back and aiming high for Siray’s head.

  Calmly, Siray stepped into the kick, raising both arms up and to the side to protect her head and turn aside the kick’s momentum.

  When it connected, her forearms went numb with the blow, but she ignored the pain that shot up her arms as she dropped the hand closest to the female to launch a jab at her nose.

  The female managed to react at the last possible instant, tilting her head so that Siray’s fist missed her nose but connected with her mouth instead.

  Although the female’s dodge reduced the force of her blow somewhat, Siray still experienced some satisfaction in seeing the female’s head bounce back just a little.

  But now she was inside her opponent’s guard, so Siray snaked her other hand around her opponents back while deflecting another punch. She remained in close, with one hand gripping the back of the female’s dry shirt as she leaned forwards and then arched her back in the other direction rapidly, using the momentum she worked up to bring her knee high to connect with the female’s sternum.

  Even against the body pads they wore, Siray heard the whoosh as the targeted impact drove the air from the female’s lungs.

  Gasping, the female half whirled, half fell away from Siray, giving up space and precious moments for Siray to get air back in her lungs.

  Siray pursued her, digging her toes in to the mud to gain speed and traction, even as the female almost lost her footing in the mud.

  As the female stumbled and fell to the ground, Siray sensed victory and rushed forwards to press her advantage.

  And received a boot to the face.

  Pain exploded across her cheek and mouth, and her head snapped backwards, her body reeling and dropping into the mud. Lying there in that instant, Siray only knew two things—that she could taste blood and that the cool mud felt good against the fire in her face.

  Both Siray and her opponent were still sitting in the mud when the drumbeat sounded.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  SIRAY STRUGGLED to get up, her face throbbing, and felt her lip and cheek swelling up quickly as they continued to burn. Her eyes were filled with water, and she blinked it away, her need to see greater than her body’s need to produce fluid to protect itself.

  She dug her feet into the mud again and forced herself to stand, her balance off.

  The female had stood and was slowly walking off the field, no longer paying any attention to Siray.

  Siray, for her part, had already forgotten her, so swiftly was her mind adjusting to prioritizing threats.

  She turned to look in the opposite direction to the one the female had taken, mentally preparing herself for her third opponent while she adjusted her feet to a wider stance.

  At first she didn’t see the male, but then he wasn’t where she had thought he would be.

  He was still near the edge of the field.

  It was only after he saw Siray look at him that he began moving casually forwards, his eyes trained on her, as if he had the entire day to fight her.

  Siray straightened up slowly, wiping mud and blood from her face where the female’s boot had connected. She was tense and sore as she waited for her opponent to approach, and she tried to limber herself up more by shaking her arms and legs a little.

  As the male continued forwards at his leisurely pace, he leaned down and swiped a hand at the ground. As he rose, he slapped a handful of mud on one arm and began to spread it.

  He had removed his armour.

  If the male’s leisurely approach hadn’t made Siray nervous, then his adaption of her—or rather Kovi’s—tactics did.

  Why? Because he was so confident in his abilities? Because he thought she was almost done?

  No. She narrowed her eyes, thinking fast.

  She wasn’t getting any sense of superiority or arrogance. He seemed relaxed. Calm. He was taking his time with this because … he had time.

  That was it, Siray realised. The male knew he didn’t have to take her out in this round, because he had other rounds in which to do it.

  Yet surely he had to realise he was also giving Siray more time to recover? Wouldn’t it be better for him to continue to press her, exhausting her for the rounds to follow?

  Wasn’t it his duty to beat Siray down, to defeat her as expeditiously as possible?

  Unable to figure out his motivation, she continued to watch him slowly approach. As he came within her outer striking range, Siray’s body tensed again, and she dropped into a fighting stance, one leg slightly forwards of her body and her hands raised, fists level with her chin.

  The male, however, merely stopped at that point and looked at her, relaxed and waiting.

  Siray kept her stance, still tensed, watching for the telltale sign of a muscle twitching before a blow was thrown. Yet no attack came. Siray kept waiting and even stamped her front foot to try to force him a reaction.

  Nothing.

  The male just tilted his head and watched her, his eyes locking on to hers and holding them.

  Siray stared right back at him, not blinking, showing him that she couldn’t be intimidated.

  That was when he moved.

  Not when she had been ready, she realised belatedly in a panic, but when he was.

  The male moved just as she was thinking about taunting him, just as her mouth opened and her focus shifted for an instant from the defence of her body to the best words to annoy her opponent.

  He moved just as her hands dropped ever so slightly, enough so that even her muscle memory to defend against a perceived threat was not fast enough to cause her arms to rise to block the punch that came over her guard to smack her on her temple.

  Siray stumbled as she instinctively tried to move away from the attack, but the male followed her, step for step, staying the same distance from her as he had before the strike.

  Siray raised her hands protectively to her chin and, stepping forwards, feinted with her right foot before aiming a hand strike at the male’s left temple.

  A short step to the side, a quick flick of the wrist, and he had blocked her attack. He followed it up with a blow to her head that was so fast that she couldn’t even track it, such was his speed. Then he had stepped aside again before she could counter with her own attack and paused at the outer edge of her striking distance.

  Siray huffed, annoyance rising within her, and she stubbornly went after the male, feinting with her left foot this time. She followed that up by dropping one knee to hover just above the ground and striking out hard and fast with a straight punch to the male’s gut. She felt her hand connect but didn’t wait to see the male’s reaction as she surged up from her low stance and aimed a high kick at his head with her right foot.

  The male had partly doubled over as the punch had connected, but he had recovered swiftly enough to be able to straighten again almost instantly. But he didn’t stop moving, and as Siray’s kick curved upwards through the air towards its target, the male actually stepped in closer to her.

  Her foot and leg high in the air, and her body weight balanced backwards to add leverage to her kick, Siray realised she was in a precariously committed position.

  Her realisation wasn’t itself that useful, as there was nothing she could do to bring her foot back down quickly as the male easily swept aside her raised hands and lunging forwards, landed a strong blow high against her chest with a flat palm.

  Her balance already compromised, Siray was forced to windmill her arms, but she fell backwards anyway, landing on her backside in the mud. The landing jolted her injured ribs, and she gasped, but as soon as she hit the mud, she let her body continue to roll backwards, placing her hands next to her head and using them to push her farther back still so she could roll her feet backwards before launching them forwards again and using the momentum to flip herself back upright.

  She didn’t pause there as a new layer of mud made itself felt against her back b
ut stood and stepped to the male’s side this time and kicked out sideways.

  Seemingly unfazed by her new attack, and still moving smoothly, the male used the momentum from Siray’s own attack against her as he batted her leg to the side.

  This caused Siray to turn further around than she had intended, leaving her back exposed, and the foot she had just used to kick with had barely touched down in the mud when a sharp pain erupted in her lower back.

  Siray cried out and stumbled forwards, falling into a crouch while she spun in the mud, one hand going to her back.

  She felt almost paralysed with pain as looked up at the male, shaking from the blow he had landed unseen there.

  Siray tried to stand but winced as pain stabbed through her newly injured muscles and stayed where she was. She just needed a moment to—

  Boom!

  Siray breathed out in relief at the sound of the drum and watched the male turn and casually walk off to the other side of the field.

  And watched as he passed the first male, who was on his way back for round two.

  Siray growled through her teeth and, forcibly ignoring the pain in her back, raised her guard and stepped forwards. Next round.

  On it went, round after round with her three opponents. By the time Siray had battled each of them four times, she was nearing exhaustion.

  It wasn’t just the fighting itself but the combination of constant fighting with no break and compounding injuries while her opponents got to rest for two rounds at a time.

  In contrast, Siray had just moments in which to prepare herself between rounds and to adjust her strategy, whereas her opponents had time to recover and analyse her fighting style.

  And they were all doing a good job of thrashing her.

  She had lost track of her mental tally of injuries and instead now only kept track of which leg could sustain most of her weight and which shoulder she should use to absorb an unavoidable blow. She knew from the fire across her side that at least one rib had potentially been cracked in the first round, and, from the spasms occurring in her lower back, she potentially had a bruised kidney.