by Unknown
"I guess so," Saar groaned.
*~*~*
First Day arrived far too quickly for Keel's fears, but excitement was building as well. He and Sariel stepped into the gigantic stadium early in the morning, and Keel almost immediately felt everything spiral out of his control.
There were people everywhere and trying to slide between them on his way to the registration and scheduling table was very much like running uphill after one of Linalee's strength enhancing sessions. There were plenty of fighters and trainers in their two colors of masks in the crowd, but just as many people weren't wearing masks. Keel had no idea why anyone not fighting was on the arena floor, but it made for difficult walking. Sariel had ordered Lightning to remain behind until at least Seventh Day; he was too large for the crowd.
Sariel did all the talking when they finally reached the check-in desk. Keel was simply handed a fighting schedule for the first two days and told to appear on the times given or automatically lose the fight. He was also given his fighter's number, the one identifying feature each fighter was obligated to wear at all times so the organizers could keep track of who was in the ring.
Then it was back to struggling through people in the direction of the locker room. Getting ready for the alternate fight had been nothing in comparison to competing in the full tournament. Registration had been after hours in a small corner of the arena and only fighters, trainers, and palace clerks had been present.
At least the locker room was a little tamer. The only people allowed inside were those wearing a mask, but at the moment, that was easily two or three hundred people. An entire long wall was filled with cubbies sized one foot by one foot that were designated for fighters to store their things. Finding an empty cubby without getting squished proved to be exhausting.
And through it all, Keel never caught a hint that Saar was anywhere nearby. He and Linalee must be—they had to register the same as Keel—but with their masks on, Keel was unable to find anyone he recognized. Cael and Liam were also in the fight and therefore around somewhere.
"Don' know why I'm even fighting this year," one man grumbled to another fighter as Keel finally found an empty cubby to claim. "What with Sariel and Linalee fighting their grudge match."
"Grudge match?" the second fighter asked.
"Yeah. They each got eight battles won. This is their tiebreaker year for the final glory for their guild."
"I thought Sariel was working on his Master's training instead this year?" the second fighter said thoughtfully.
"That's why this year's tournament is so important!" the first man said forcefully. "Sariel's moving on to other paths in the fighting world. This could be his last chance to battle against Yimina for the title and the tiebreaker."
"Oh," the second man gasped. They moved away so Keel couldn't hear the rest of their conversation, but Keel had heard enough.
"Are Saar and I keeping you and Linalee from your tiebreaker match?" Keel asked Sariel softly.
Sariel started laughing quietly in response to Keel's question. "Not a chance. We're both done with the tournament and more than happy to be. Eight wins isn't a bad way to end, and the tie makes it more exciting. We're more interested in watching you and Saar shock the fighting world." Simola knew that Sariel wasn't fighting and were counting on Keel or Cael to win it all for them, but they didn't know that Linalee had also retired. All the unaffiliated fighters and spectators wouldn't have any forewarning at all. There would be plenty of surprise when neither Sariel nor Linalee unmasked for the final match.
"Or disrupt it entirely," Keel grumbled. He wished those two fighters hadn't spoken up at all. On top of being worried about his own fights and dealing with the crowd, the last thing he wanted was to be distracted by unaffiliated fighters. The only requirement to enter the tournament was being the age of twenty or older. Anyone from anywhere and of any ability could fight, although the weaker fighters were generally all weeded out by day three. Even if the Simola and the Yimina fought over the top two spots every year, unaffiliated hopefuls could and did reach third and fourth place, which offered considerable prize money and drew in all sorts of skilled and unskilled fighters from Lev and around the world.
Sariel had warned Keel and Saar over and over that they would face at least one fighter who barely knew how to make a fist, but that fight could very well be their hardest. According to Sariel, defending against random and formless attacks was one of the more difficult things Keel would have to accomplish to get to the final battle.
"Let's see," Sariel said as he gently took Keel's schedule from his hand. He pulled a small piece of paper with a number and a shirt pin on it from the schedule and hooked the pin to Keel's shirt. "You're fighter number 258 and you're up in an hour. Let's go to the warm up track."
Sariel led the way through the crowd and out a back door of the locker room. Keel had been to the warm up track before. It was the same one used by the alternates before their fights. He tried to fall into an easy rhythm of jogging, but every couple of steps he had to shorten his stride to avoid a slower contestant or was bumped thanks to the heavy crowd. After only one lap he stopped at Sariel's side.
"There's got to be something else I can do," he grumbled with a glare at the track.
Sariel couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. "Let's find a corner."
Keel hurried after Sariel as they moved out of the mob trying to use the track to an empty corner. He started doing jumping jacks, high knees, and squats in place until his heart rate was up and a light sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. After ten minutes, Sariel nodded and started helping Keel stretch his muscles.
By the time Keel felt ready to go, there were still fifteen minutes before his fight. Sariel fussed for a long moment over Keel's mask to make sure it stayed on properly even during the heat of battle.
"We can wait next to your ring," Sariel said once he was satisfied with Keel's mask. "You can scope out your opponent."
They left the locker room and waded back through the throng of people on the floor. Keel had been watching Sariel's bouts for years and had never realized just how many people were involved. Too many, really. It took five exhausting minutes to reach ring seventeen, a raised platform about ten feet by ten feet in size. The floor was made of thick, protective matting, which was nice since Keel was used to falling hard on grass. A match was in progress on the mat, but Keel could tell by how one fighter's fists were shaking in exhaustion that it would end soon. His opponent was across the ring.
He was going to fight a woman for his first battle. The masks hid hair and facial features, but it was much too difficult to hide breasts of his opponent's size. Fighting women was different to fighting against men. Women fought with their heads, men with their muscles, which meant Keel had to prepare for a more analytical approach. Linalee had made him eat dirt too many times for him to discount a woman on muscle size alone, but until he was in the ring and exchanging punches there was no way to tell how skilled she could be.
Then, suddenly, it was time. Sariel gave Keel a strong pat on the back before Keel stepped up onto the platform. His opponent joined him a moment later and they both walked to where the judge was standing in the middle of the ring. The judge handed them both paperwork to sign, which basically stated that they weren't going to cheat. The same person, fighter 258, would fight every fight he was assigned to, no substitutions under the mask. Keel signed and returned the paper.
"I want a fair fight," the judge reiterated, but Keel could barely hear him. The crowd wasn't just around the fighting rings. The stands were full to the brim of enthusiasts, all of whom were screaming and cheering as fights on thirty-nine other rings continued around him. The noise was deafening, and Keel was having trouble keeping his attention on his opponent when so much was happening so loudly around him. He couldn't hear Sariel over the din and he almost missed the judge dropping his hand to signal the start of the fight.
His opponent tried to take advantage of Keel's distraction. She immediately j
umped forward with a stomp kick. Keel's muscle memory wouldn't allow something so elementary to land. He smoothly blocked, then stepped forward into her guard. He landed a quick uppercut to her solar plexus, hooked one foot around her knee, and sent his opponent crashing onto her back. His finishing heel stomp to the face landed next to her ear, as tournament guidelines required for deadly moves, and ended the fight. The judge called Keel the winner, lifting his hand into the air briefly, before turning away to call the next set of fighters forward.
Keel climbed down from the platform next to Sariel, wondering why he felt so shaky when the fight had been easily won. It was adrenalin high, he supposed.
"Good job!" Sariel yelled to Keel over the noise of the crowd. "Your next fight is in three hours. Let's go find lunch."
*~*~*
Keel won his second fight on First Day and both of his fights on Second Day. His opponents were of various abilities; he thought one of the stronger ones might have been Liam, but it was hard to tell. Luckily, he didn't have to face Saar.
On Third Day the elimination battles began.
"You have four wins," Sariel explained on the early morning walk to the arena. "That means you'll be fighting against someone with no more than one win for your first battle. The idea is the strong fighters weed out the weak so the tournament continues at full strength. Your second battle will be against someone with no more than two or three wins."
Keel's first fight was laughably easy. He lunged forward and his opponent tripped over his own feet and hit the ground. Keel lazily tapped him on the head with his toes to signal a finishing kick to the head and the judge called his win. His second fight took a little more finesse, but it was clear to Keel he wasn't fighting someone who actually knew what they were doing. Probably a street thug thinking he was hot stuff. Keel had to use a few more advanced moves to dodge, but a swift kick to the knee ended the fight.
"Okay, now is when it can get tricky," Sariel explained once Keel stepped down from the platform. "They've gone from about four hundred fighters to two hundred, and then to one hundred in the first two elimination rounds. Now they're trying to pare it down to the last thirty-two. Fight number three will cut the numbers to fifty. With seven wins under your belt, you'll be asked to fight a fourth time today to help eliminate the last eighteen."
"What does that mean?" Keel asked. He sucked down water slowly, just wetting his mouth at first before finally taking full gulps.
"It means that for your third fight you'll be facing someone with three or four wins, and for fight four you'll be facing someone with four or five wins. But the good news is that fighters who finish the day with eight wins in total, which I have no doubt you and Saar will do, are placed as far apart on the top thirty-two bracket as the organizers can manage. I'm sure you won't have to fight Saar until the final four or the final battle."
"So where is my third fight going to be held?" Keel asked, glancing around at the full arena.
He didn't have to wait long for an answer. Before Sariel could get impatient, an organizer approached them with information for fight three and tentative information for fight four. Once Keel won his third battle, fight four would go from tentative to a reality.
By the time he reached fight four, Keel understood why image training had been so important. He was absolutely exhausted. Not that his opponent was in any better shape, but lessons about thinking how to win a fight when his arms and legs felt like they had weights attached were all that sustained him as he stepped into the ring. He knew he couldn't aim for a kick to the stomach, but a few strong kicks to the knees had his opponent stumbling to the floor and gave Keel the win.
Keel went home Third Night totally exhausted. He crawled into bed with Lightning and fell almost immediately asleep. His last thought was disappointment that he hadn't been able to see Saar in days.
*~*~*
Fourth Day passed quickly. Keel fought two fights to advance through the top thirty-two and the top sixteen. On Fifth day he fought through the top eight to join the final four fighters in the center ring at midday.
Saar was there, with Linalee standing next to Sariel just outside the ring. Keel didn't recognize the other two fighters immediately through their masks, but he thought Cael was one of them. Liam hadn't made it.
"And these are our final four!" an announcer yelled loudly with a wide gesture that encompassed all four fighters on the fighting platform. His voice managed to project despite the noise of the crowd, but even he had to wait while a resounding cheer echoed through the arena. "In just four hours fighter 285 will face off against fighter 397!"
Keel jumped, thinking that his number had been called, but he was 258. Saar stepped forward, and the fighter Keel thought was Cael also stepped forward.
"And fighter 122 will face off against fighter 258!" the announcer continued, and this time Keel stepped forward to loud applause. His opponent was a woman, which was why the stands weren't already resounding with shock that Linalee was missing. When Keel beat the woman they assumed was Linalee, then the real spectacle would begin. Linalee and Sariel had faced off so many times in the finals that even when one of them was missing from the final round it was assumed that they had faced each other in the elimination rounds. When fighter 122 was beaten, many people would assume that Yimina had already lost the tournament without ever seeing her face. "For the first time in over ten years, all four fighters have unbeaten records! Let's find out who will move on."
Once the announcement was finished and the crowd hurried to lunch and the betting booths, Keel joined Sariel to walk back to the locker room. He tried very hard not to look at Saar; if someone noticed a friendly nod then the game would be over early. The stadium floor had almost completely emptied. All of the losing fighters and trainers had left, as had all the support staff needed to keep that many people in line. The locker room only had the belongings of the four remaining fighters. Sariel found him an out of the way bench to rest on and then jogged off to find them lunch.
"How's it going?" Saar asked in a whisper as he and Linalee passed by to find their own resting spot.
"I'm going to get to the final," Keel replied in his own firm whisper. "Are you?"
Saar took the jab as the joke it was intended as. "Duh," he said with a snort of laughter.
"Boys," Linalee warned.
Then Saar was gone and Sariel had returned with lunch. All too soon Keel was back outside where the crowd in the stands had doubled from the morning's fight.
Saar and Cael hopped into the ring first. Keel was a little envious because Saar already knew Cael's moves and how to counter them. It took twelve minutes of exchanged punches and kicks before Saar was knocked to the ground, which wasn't optimum, but was exactly what Saar wanted. A surprise leg sweep as Saar was falling sent Cael tumbling and a ground kick to the head as an aborted finishing move ended the fight.
Saar and Cael shook hands. Keel felt bad for Cael. He had been competing in the tournament for years and hadn't ever gotten beyond third place. He knew Sariel wasn't competing and he still couldn't get to the final. Perhaps he would have the chance next year depending on how the drama after the finals ended.
Keel walked up to the platform, his female opponent climbing up the stairs directly across from him. They met in the middle next to the judge.
"Fighter 122 versus fighter 258!" the announcer yelled. The judge lifted his hand into the air and dropped it. Keel's opponent didn't wait, immediately jumping to the offensive with a wild spinning kick that Keel couldn't respond to with anything but a block with one arm. Her foot landed and before Keel could do more than realize he was going to have a massive bruise on his arm, her other foot spun into a low kick aimed for the side of his stomach. Keel got a nasty bruise on the other arm as he blocked, but he was prepared for her balance to shift and the other leg to kick up a second time.
He stepped into her hip, forcing the kick to go well beyond his body, and shoved an elbow into her solar plexus. She gasped for air, but didn't flin
ch and Keel was forced to dodge backwards to avoid her knee coming up at his groin.
They circled for a few seconds before Keel took the offensive. He started with a roundhouse kick to her knee, which she blocked, and followed up with an upward elbow to her chin, which sent her reeling backwards. A stomp kick to her already aching solar plexus made it impossible for her to recover. Keel finished the fight with a palm strike to her throat, which, at full strength, could have killed her.
The judge called the fight and lifted Keel's hand up in victory.
"The final battle will be fought by two excellent fighters, fighter 285 and fighter 258, on Seventh Day!" the announcer yelled loudly and boisterously above the cheering spectators. "Our Sixth Day event will showcase the awesome strength of the King's Guard in the morning and the battle between fighter 397 and fighter 122 for third place will go down in the afternoon. And don't forget about the alternate fight in the morning on Seventh Day. We know we'll see you then!"
Sariel met Keel at the foot of the platform stairs. "Let's get you some ice for those bruises," he said seriously. Keel couldn't see Sariel's wide smile because of Sariel's mask, but the happy crinkling at the corners of his eyes gave away just how proud Sariel was of Keel's fighting.
They returned to the Simola manor to an ongoing celebration. "We could win it, Keel, thanks to you!" Hota laughed as he gladly held the front door open for Keel and Sariel.
"You beat me good," Cael said with a slap on Keel's back. His smile was a twist of happy and wistful.
"But that other fighter beat the Yimina female fighter that Sariel usually battles," someone from the group surrounding Keel grumbled. "He's going to be tough, but you can beat him, Keel!"
"Of course he can," Sariel said loudly. "Now how about we let Keel get into a hot bath and get some sleep."
*~*~*
Sixth Day was a quick recovery day for the final fighters. While the King's Guard was eating knifes and dancing with swords for the awe of the audience, Keel did a gentle warm up and stretch to loosen his muscles on the otherwise empty warm-up track. Then they found seats to watch Cael's fight. He beat the female fighter handily, which started a flurry of gossip. How could Linalee lose to two different fighters, was that even Linalee? Where was Sariel's place in the rankings, because if Linalee had finished so poorly then maybe Sariel hadn't done well either.