Chapter 15 - Pit Fight (1)

Quin sat down in his bed, meditating as well as he could.

Were someone to walk in and observe his Arima radiation, they would see a series of shapes form at his core.

First a circle, then a square.

A star.

A cube.

There were hardly five seconds between each shape.

He formed a spiral, hypnotically spinning it around and letting it disperse naturally. 

Finally, he did his best to form the symbol of the Ranger Corps at his chest. As far as he could tell, it was pretty good.

The door burst open.

“Quin, Ashur’s here to-” Vaichehen cut himself off.

The Ranger Corps’ symbol dissipated.

“I saw that, Quin,” said Vaichehen, “You think your training these past few days is gonna help in the pit fight?”

“I dunno,” said Quin as he opened his eyes, “Maybe. I haven’t thought of any practical uses for it, yet. Still though, I feel like I can control my aura far better now, so thanks.”

“It was just a passing idea I had. Don’t be surprised if it doesn’t actually do much.”

“Whatever,” Quin stretched and stood up.

Outside of the room, Ashur was dealing with his uncle.

“C’mon, get up!” he groaned.

“Just give me five more minutes,” Fenres groaned as he laid on the couch, “Please, Ashur.”

“It’s not my fault that you all got drunk three nights in a row!”

Only three nights had passed on Talis, but according to the standard translation system that Quin had, it had been four days. Depending on the context, the translation system would automatically convert any form of measurement to whatever the user is most comfortable with. It often made things confusing when one was traveling away from their home planet. 

“Hey, Ashur,” said Quin.

“Oh. Hi, Quin,” said Ashur, “Could you help me get this bum up and moving?”

“I dunno. Isn’t it alright if he gets up a bit later?” asked Quin, “He won’t have to do anything for the next couple of hours, anyways.”

Fenres gave Quin a thumbs up and a smirk, “I knew I could count on you, my greatest subordinate.”

“C’mon, Quin. I thought we were friends,” Ashur scoffed.

“That and this are two different things.”

“Whatever, man. Lasia and Behine are waiting outside,” said Ashur.

“Let’s go, then,” said Quin.

“And Uncle Fenres,” Ashur turned to Fenres and gave him a chilling, deep glare, “If you don’t shape up in time, I’m telling Mom.”

Fenres sat up straight on the couch in an instant, there was a tremor in his voice as he spoke, “Of course, Ashur. Do you think we’re pushovers or something?”

Ashur turned around and walked out the door. Quin followed.

“Any luck on getting Fenres to move?” asked Behine who was standing outside with Lasia.

“I guess,” Ashur shrugged.

“That could be a problem,” said Behine, “They have a special assignment later today, don’t they?”

“It’s not my business anymore,” said Ashur.

“I see,” Lasia sighed, “Let’s just get a move on.”

“Right.”

They went on their way.

They rode on a tram and got off at the station nearest to their destination. From there, they walked.

Lasia and Ashur walked in the front while Quin and Behine trailed behind them by around ten meters.

“So I take it that Ashur couldn’t convince you to join our movement?” Behine asked Quin.

“Yeah. A bit aggressive if you ask me,” replied Quin.

“Is that so?” Behine laughed, “That’s fine. It was a shot in the dark, anyways.”

“I have a question about that. If you guys want to ask for help from the Coalition, why don’t you just have Ashur and Lasia join the Ranger Corps? I’m sure they’d make some waves, at least.”

“Well, about that…” Behine hesitated, “Lasia at least has her own reasons.”

“Reasons?” asked Quin.

“You know about the Tebin Massacre?”

“Ah… I see,” Quin paused, “Maybe I shouldn’t pry.”

“It’s quite alright, Quin. Lasia doesn’t hide this sort of information and informed us of it directly when she joined half a year ago. In short, she’s a survivor of the incident. She was only six at the time, and that trauma has never left her. Rangers, the Galactic Coalition… they’re all quite difficult for her to trust.”

Quin stared down at the ground in silence.

“Not you guys!” Behine put Quin’s sulking to a halt, “She actually has a very fond view of Squad Fenres.”

“Really? How so?”

“I dunno,” Behine shook his head, “Fenres is just that special of a person, I guess.”

Quin had a hard time believing that going off of the experiences he’d had with him, but he hadn’t known him for that long, so he gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“What about Ashur? What’s his reason?”

“No idea. I met him at one point a few years back, and I can’t even remember how, but we started talking about politics for some reason. He agreed with everything I said, though I was just shooting off at the mouth at the time, and eventually convinced me to start my own little group. Honestly, I have no clue what I’m doing or why he follows me so intently.”

“I had a hypothesis when I first met him that he was in some sort of rebellious phase.”

“Haha,” Behine smiled warmly, “It’s probably something like that.”

They walked quietly for a while until Behine broke the silence.

“To be frank, Quin, I think his talents are absolutely wasted here playing house with me. I’ll be disbanding Museum soon enough, and someone needs to convince him to move on.”

“That’s a tall order. In the first place, he seems to genuinely hold the beliefs that Museum represents.”

“So you caught on to what I was going to ask you. It might be true about his beliefs, but he’d be much better off expressing them in a way that matters.”

Quin paused for a moment before answering, “I’ll think about it.”

They continued to walk, spotting more and more people on the trail as they got closer, almost to the point of it seeming crowded, until finally, they reached their destination. 

The feeling of the day arriving after such a long wait settled in as the big, bright sign came into view.

The group entered the door. 

The room was filled to the brim with people of varying races. Most were walking down the stairs on either side of the room, but some were engaging in idle chit-chat in the lobby. 

The group walked up to the front desk.

“Oh, it’s you two, welcome,” the same receptionist that Quin had met was manning the desk again, “And the weird tourist Human. I never would have guessed that he was with you both.”

“Watch your words,” said Lasia, “He’s a friend.”

“Sure, sure,” she reached under the desk and pulled out three small objects, “Your name tags. Put them on before entering the battleground. You’re the last to arrive, by the way.”

Ashur put on his own embarrassing name tag with a look that made it seem like he wondered why he went through with such a crass joke. 

Quin and Lasia both put their own on.

“And you?” the receptionist turned to Behine.

“I’m just here to watch. I’ve got a ticket.”

“Here,” she handed him a piece of paper, “In case you want to bet.”

The paper had the names of all the fighters and their presumed odds of victory, but those were subject to change the longer the fight went on. There was a link on the paper that led to the betting site.

“See you guys,” said Behine, “Good luck out there. I’ll be cheering you on from the stands.”

Behine went down the staircase to the right, and the other three entered one of the middle elevators.

The elevator reached the bottom, and the doors opened.

Quin and the others exited the elevator. They stepped out, and a staff member immediately came up to them and began patting them down.

“You’re all clear,” he said after the process was finished.

Quin nodded at him, and the staff member went back to the wall he was leaning against beforehand.

The waiting room was dimly lit, but Quin could still make out everyone's faces.

There were plenty of benches around the room, and most of the contestants were sitting down patiently. 

A large door leading to what one could assume was the battleground was off on the other end, and a timer sat above it counting down. 

There were twenty-five minutes before the event started.

In the corner of the room, a Sogarian sat patiently. Like most members of his race, he was tall and rotund. His short, flat snout, salmon-colored skin and curled ears made it clear why xenophobic Humans came up with the derogatory slur ‘space-swine.’

[Patipay the Wall]

One look at his nametag and Quin knew that he was his enemy. 

Quin peered inside of him to see his aura, but it wasn’t anything special. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t a threat. Seil had told Quin that the purity and strength of one’s Arima radiation was far from the be-all and end-all in a fight, otherwise Chugol wouldn’t stand a chance.

Patipay looked back at Quin, and a menacing smile overcame his mouth. 

“It’s rude to stare, Quin,” Ashur spoke softly.

“Right,” Quin replied, averting his eyes.

Most of the participants were hardened veterans of the arena. They were there to make money or win glory. Making friends didn’t interest them. Others were first-timers there, and were too timid to say a word.

As a result of this, the whole twenty-five minutes remained nearly silent.

The timer reached zero.

“Alright everyone!” said a voice through a speaker, “The moment we’ve all been waiting for has arrived!”

Loud cheering from a crowd could be heard from the other side of a door. 

Participants in the waiting room began to stand up.

“You all know the rules! Just get your bets ready and hope that you’ll win big! Without further ado, please welcome the fighters for Mosar’s Shadow Arena’s four-hundred-and-thirty-seventh pit fight!”

The gate opened, and the participants walked out into the grounds in no particular order. The spectators were in an uproar as the fighters entered.

Quin, Ashur and Lasia were somewhere towards the middle of the pack. 

The battleground was circular and massive, and the floor was made out of dirt. Bright, white lights hung from the ceiling and pointed down at the pit. The light glistened off of the swords, spears, maces, clubs and various other weapon types that were scattered about the arena.

“Here they are! We see see some new faces, and some familiar ones, too, but all of them are vicious and ready to win,” the announcer spoke into a square-shaped microphone from the center of the battleground. She was dressed in clothes of vibrant colors and a mask to hide her identity, “If you fighters would please form a circle around the pit so we can get started, that would be greatly appreciated.”

The fighters began to line the walls of the battleground, trying their best to stay evenly spread. Quin, Ashur and Lasia got split up at some point in the process, but not by much.

A circular platform suspended by thrusters descended down towards the center of the arena. After it reached the bottom, the announcer stepped on it.

As the platform ascended into the air, the announcer spoke into her mic, “Are you guys ready to see some action?”

The crowd entered a vigorous uproar.

“Are you guys ready to see some blood!” she threw her fist above her head.

“Yeah!” the crowd yelled in unison.

“Then wait no more because the battle begins…” she pointed her index finger directly in front of her at nothing in particular, “NOW!”