Element Wielder (The Void Wielder Trilogy Book 1) (8 page)

CHAPTER 15

The coliseum was filled to capacity. The smell of the baked bread the vendors sold through the stands filled his nostrils, causing his stomach to growl. The last time Falcon remembered the coliseum this packed was a lifetime ago, when his brother defeated Mathias.

Once again the emperor turned out for the occasion. Even from the far back side of the coliseum, where all the hopeful Rohads waited, Falcon made out his bright-green robe. No doubt he would be Hiromy’s loudest supporter.

The announcer, a tall man with a large build, strutted to the middle of the sun-soaked arena.

“Silence, please.” His oversized white mustache danced as he spoke. “The following is a one-on-one battle between two potential graduates. The rules are simple. Element wielding is allowed; additionally, each fighter is allowed a weapon of their choosing.” The announcer took a breath. “The person who makes their opponent yield to them will be declared the winner. Contestants at the ready!”

Falcon’s heart pounded as he picked at his fingernail. He hoped nothing more than to be called up first.

The announcer continued. “The first match of the day will be between Chonsey Meloth and Delita Norrington.”

With a loud “Yes!” Delita raised his fist in the air. He took large, confident strides to the middle of the arena, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. Laars and Putin cheered him on.

Chonsey, to the contrary, remained frozen in place next to Falcon, his face unnaturally pale. 

“Chonsey Meloth? Where is Chonsey Meloth?” asked the announcer.

No one stepped up.

The announcer let out an exaggerated sigh. “I said where is Chonsey Meloth?”

“Go on, Chonsey. Just do your best,” said Falcon.

Chonsey staggered forward, trembling like a warthog headed for the slaughterhouse.

Delita signaled Chonsey forward. “C’mon, dwarf. You think we have all day?”

“You can do it!” cheered Aya.

As much as Falcon wanted his friend to win, he doubted he would. Delita was too big. He easily weighed four times what Chonsey did. It didn’t help that Chonsey wasn’t much of a fighter either. Falcon knew his small friend would rather spend his afternoons painting a canvas than in a confrontation.

The announcer stepped between both wielders. “No excessive attacks; just do enough to defeat your opponent. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” answered both wielders. Chonsey’s voice sounded more like a whimper than a shout.

“Begin!”

Chonsey twirled his staff. A faint, blue glow started from atop his weapon and crept down.

“He’s water wielding too slow,” said Lao, pointing out what was obvious to everyone.

With shaky hands, Chonsey continued spinning his staff. Delita rushed and slammed into Chonsey, who flew through the air like a cloth doll and crashed to the ground.

“Get up, midget,” growled Delita. “I’m not done having fun with you just yet.”

“You can do it, Chonsey,” said Falcon. “Get up.” He wasn’t sure if his encouragement had done the trick, but his friend rose to his feet. His shirt and pants were now dirt brown. With loud breaths, Delita ducked and rushed Chonsey once more.

Chonsey rolled out of the way, dodging his opponent’s reckless attack by a millimeter. He slapped his hands together and wielded a small wave of water that quickly made its way to the unsuspecting Delita. The weak attack soaked the back of Delita’s leather tunic.

A roar of laughter rose from the crowd.

“A bucket of water has more power than that!” shouted Laars.

Falcon sighed. He hated seeing his friend mocked like this.

The combination of the attack’s ineffectiveness and the laughter seem to destroy whatever little hope Chonsey still had. His lips quivered as backed into the wall.

“Time to finish you,” said Delita as he rushed at Chonsey.

Chonsey put up a water shield before him, but Delita broke through it as if it wasn’t there. Once again Chonsey’s frail body flew through the air. This time he crashed into a rack of weapons. Swords, lances, maces, and javelins of all sizes scattered on the dirt. 

To Falcon’s surprise, Chonsey picked himself up.

Delita stomped his feet and beat his chest. “I’m growing tired of you.” He brought both hands together as a medium-sized ball of fire formed between his hands. With a manic scream he released it.

Chonsey brought up his water-infused staff. The weapon absorbed some of the attack but Chonsey took the brunt of it. He fell, face-down, to the floor. His body jerked a few times before it stopped moving.

Falcon held his breath, as did most of the arena, as the medics rushed in. He allowed himself to breathe once he saw that Chonsey was conscious and moving. After a minute of rest, the medics lifted him to a mobile medical bed.

As he was carried away, Falcon noticed Chonsey’s deep-set eyes look over to where the army officers were seated. Falcon knew who he was searching for, but he wouldn’t find him. Chonsey’s father had stormed out of the coliseum as soon as his son had stopped moving.

Tears trickled down Chonsey’s cheeks and into the dirt. Falcon knew he wasn’t crying because he lost the fight.

Before Falcon had a chance to wave goodbye to his friend, the announcer returned to the center of the arena. “Next up we have another fire versus water duel. Aya Nakatomi and Drusilla Nord, step forward.”

“You can do it,” whispered Falcon just loud enough for Aya to hear. He and Lao gave her a thumbs up as she headed to the middle of the arena.

Drusilla’s friends cheered her on. Unlike Aya, little beauty could be found in Drusilla, inwards or outwards. She came from a noble family, and made sure everyone at Rohad knew it. Like her sister, Elvira, she never missed an opportunity to humiliate those she believed were beneath her.

Drusilla strode to the middle of the arena, her long, bony legs cracking loudly with every step she took. She gave Aya a mocking smile, exposing a set of crooked, yellow teeth.

The announcer brought his hand down. “Begin!”

Falcon clutched his sweaty hands as both girls rushed each other. Aya preferred to fight at a close range, so her weapons were batons and her own fists. For this duel she used thin fighting gloves. Drusilla, on the other hand, brought a large wooden staff to the fight. Aya would have to find a way past it.

Drusilla brought down her staff directly in front of Aya, who quickly rolled under it. In a split second she stood right in front of Drusilla, bringing her fists down on her.

Drusilla stumbled back. Aya dove forward with a volley of quick punches. Drusilla dodged the first attack, but the two last two punches met her mid-section.

Drusilla snarled. She obviously hadn’t expected to be put on the defensive so early in the fight.

Aya gracefully swirled her hands and a tornado of water sprang from the ground. Under her command the tornado grew in size and speed. She swung her hand forward. The water spiral rushed toward Drusilla. The skinny girl spun her staff and a fire wall formed. The water attack and fire shield clashed with tremendous force, sending loud cracks echoing through the arena.

Seconds later the water ripped through the shield. Drusilla fell to the ground. With clenched fists Aya moved forward, water surrounding her gloves. Falcon’s eyes darted back and forth between both girls, eager to see his friend claim victory.

“Get up, Drusilla,” said Aya. “I will not strike a downed opponent.”

Drusilla looked up, rage in her eyes. “No, I’m not done. I will not lose to you.”

“On your feet then.”

Drusilla picked herself up, throwing a fistful of sand in Aya’s eyes. She lunged at Aya, pulling on her hair, both illegal moves.

Aya let out a low scream as she brought her hands to her face. She stumbled back into the wall and rubbed her eyes.

Falcon stood in disbelief. How could the judge have missed not one, but two illegal attacks?

Drusilla shot a fireball at Aya. She took the hit without going down, but the entire bottom of her shirt was now charred in black. Drusilla followed her fireball attack with her staff. She struck Aya’s stomach and ribs.

Still Aya remained on her feet.

Drusilla took aim at Aya’s kneecaps. Falcon cringed as the staff made contact. Aya dropped to one knee.

The judge began the countdown.

“Ten…nine…”

Aya stood, but one of her hands rested on her ribs. With her other hand she rubbed her eyes. Her loud wheezes made it clear that the simple act of breathing had become a struggle.

Drusilla grinned. “Don’t you ever learn? You’re no match for me.” She swung her staff at Aya.

With eyes still closed, Aya grabbed the staff before it made contact. She crouched and swept her opponent’s legs with a swift kick. Drusilla stumbled. A water geyser burst through the ground and shot Drusilla back into the air. Aya jumped and delivered a kick to the skinny wielder’s mid-section. Leaving little time for recovery, Aya grasped Drusilla, putting her in a Nakatomi grip. A lock her father had developed, but Aya had perfected. It involved throwing your opponent to the ground and locking their hands and feet from behind. Falcon smiled, certain there was no way out of it.

“Yield,” said Aya.

“I will never lose to a Nakatomi. You hear me? Never!”

“Yield, Drusilla. Don’t make me break your arm.”

“Please. Like you would do that. We both know you are too great a coward.”

Aya strengthened her grip.

Drusilla groaned in pain. She twisted her long neck around as if trying to come face-to-face with Aya. Then she spat green slime from her mouth. The transparent substance flew into Aya’s right eye. There was loud booing from some in the crowd.

“Really, judge?” yelled Falcon as he realized that the judge had been bought off. Mist tar, which was created by alchemists, was a clear violation of the rules. “You didn’t see that?”

The judge glanced at Falcon with a look of disapproval. “Silence yourself or you will be disqualified from your match.”

Falcon bit his lip, but refrained from saying anything else.

Drusilla smirked as she attacked the once-again blinded Aya. Punch after punch slammed into Aya’s face and body.

“I’m going to finish you once and for all,” screamed Drusilla, making a hoop of fire around both her arms. She drove forward, swinging both hoops. The attack hit hard, and Aya crumpled down.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Aya slowly raised her head.

“Seven… six… five…”

Aya rubbed her eyes.

“Three… two… one…”

Aya dragged herself up, but it was one second too late.

“Zero…you’re out. The winner is Drusilla Nord.” Drusilla jumped up and down celebrating her victory. The wave of disapproval rolling through the audience did not bother her in the least.

Aya stood up straight and gave Drusilla a respectful bow. “Thank you for the fight.”

“Yeah, whatever, loser,” said Drusilla, without bowing in return.

Aya turned and limped her way back to the line.

“That’s not fair,” said Falcon as Aya took a seat next to him. “She cheated you out of your win.”

“That’s fine. Unfair things happen on the real battlefield. I am responsible for my loss today. I failed to properly prepare myself. It won’t happen again.”

“What?” said Lao, stunned. “You’re telling me that after what she did you don’t want to bash in her smug face until—”

Aya brought her finger before her lips. “Shh…it’s fine.” She blinked quickly, struggling to keep her eyes open. She was obviously still in pain, physically and emotionally. Yet she stood firm. A far cry from Drusilla, who was happily high-fiving her twin sister as if she had actually earned her win. Falcon doubted he could ever show Aya’s kind of restraint.

Lao was about to say something else, but stopped mid-sentence when he heard the judge speak.

“The third match of the day will be between Lao Chan-Keen and Laars Masters.”

Lao turned to Falcon and smiled. “Time to show everyone my greatness.”

CHAPTER 16

With a large grin, Laars marched to the middle of the arena with a confident stride. He pointed at his dad, who accompanied the emperor in his booth. He was a tall man who wore an elegant tunic embroidered in gold chains. “Watch me put the stable boy in his place, Father.”

Laars’ father smiled and nodded. He had the same over-sized head as his son.

So that’s where he gets that large melon head.

“He’s sure certain of his victory,” whispered Sheridan from behind Falcon.

“I can’t blame him,” answered Falcon, without looking back. “Laars is an earth wielder, and Lao’s a fire wielder. He’s counting on the natural advantage earth has over fire to win. But it’s going to take more than a simple element disadvantage to stop my friend. You’ll see.”

Both wielders unsheathed their double-edged swords. The red hilt of Lao’s sword gleamed as the sunrays bounced off it. Neither too big nor too small, the sword was perfectly balanced and deadly sharp. Silence descended on the coliseum as Lao and Laars met at the middle of the field.

The judge waved his hand. “Begin!”

The sound of clashing metal filled the arena as their swords met. With a well-placed kick to the chest, Lao drove Laars back. He dove forward, bringing his sword down at Laars’ right side. Laars moved his sword to deflect the blow. While he brought up his sword to block his right side, a fire whip slammed his left ribs.

Laars was big and husky, though, and it would take a lot to keep him down. He held his sword over his head and advanced.

Lao shot a small fireball.

Laars wielded a shield of dirt. The shield raced toward Lao, blocking any attacks he threw.

Falcon grew tense.
How is Lao going to get past that?

Behind the cover of his shield, Laars brought the sword down on Lao. Lao back-flipped to safety. Laars’ sword swung wide and plunged into the floor of the field. He cursed as he futilely pulled on the hilt of the sword that remained grounded in place.

Now Lao drove his sword forward. Laars dodged, but he moved right into a knee to the face. Before he could react, two fire snakes rammed Laars’ back. The crunch of cracking bones echoed as he fell to the ground.

Laars looked up at Lao, anger etched in his eyes. He struggled to his feet, but immediately tumbled back down.

With a satisfied smile, Lao brought his shoe down on Laars’ arm, making sure to apply as much pressure as possible.

“Aaarghh!” Laars screamed. Falcon cringed. He and Laars weren’t friends, but he didn’t take pleasure in his suffering.

Professor Rykas stood. “Lao! That is enough, your opponent is defeated.”

“He could’ve still reached for his weapon. I had to make sure it was over. In the real world the fight—”

“You are not in the real world yet, young pupil. You will do well to remember that.”

“Yes, professor.” Lao slowly removed his foot from Laars’ crippled hand. With a smirk plastered across his face, he marched back to his chair.

He’d gone a little overboard, but Falcon was glad Lao won. At least one of his friends had a victory.

Lao used deceit to win his fight; it was his go-to strategy. Being Lao’s sparring partner allowed Falcon to witness his battle tactics firsthand. Lao loved making his opponent believe an attack was coming from one way when in reality it was coming from another. It was a good strategy that worked on him more times than he cared to admit.

“Good win,” said Falcon. “But a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“Not at all. It’s good to finally get some payback. Besides, the feeling of power over a defeated opponent is intoxicating! I love it.”

“If you say so.”

“Anyway, don’t worry too much about me. You still have your fight to consider.”

“Hopefully I’m up next.” Falcon did not go up next, though. Nor was he called to the match after that. He settled back in his seat as match after match came and went without his name being announced. He didn’t pay much attention to the duels; there was no one that he cared to watch.

Finally, when the sun was close to setting, someone he did want to see in action was called. The judge stepped up. “For our next match we will have Elvira Nord versus Hiromy Cesley.”

Now Falcon knew who his opponent was going to be. The only other person left to duel was Sheridan. He was in for a rough fight. Sheridan wielded an advanced element, and was ranked third among male students at Rohad, right behind Lao and Falcon.

But he would have to wait until Hiromy and Elvira finished their match. Both girls met at the middle of the arena. It was quite a sight. Hiromy was slender and wore blue from top to bottom. Elvira was a plump girl who, like her sister, wore a dark blouse and pants. Falcon wondered if she had a neck. It seemed lost somewhere between her head and body.

“Ready? Begin.”

Hiromy opened her fans. At first glance they appeared to be harmless folding fans, much like the ones noble ladies used to keep themselves cool during hot days. But these fans were different. The ends were deadly sharp iron, capable of slicing through human flesh.

Elvira shot a gust of fire toward Hiromy. Hiromy twirled in circles. A tornado of water appeared under her feet. It picked her up high into the air. The spiraling force moved forward with Hiromy still atop. Elvira retreated back, unable to stop Hiromy’s advance, but quickly ran out of room to run. She stood trapped between the water tornado and the arena wall.

The water dissolved as Hiromy came back down to the ground. She moved forward with a series of attacks. Elvira attempted a counter with her sai, a dagger weapon with three sharp ends.

Hiromy’s lightning-fast attacks ripped through her opponent’s defense. Elvira desperately dashed forward, but a gust of water to the face knocked her back. A precise kick by Hiromy knocked both sais out of Elvira’s hands. She was left standing with her hands up in defeat, her weapons lying uselessly beside her.

The announcer held Hiromy’s hand high. “Hiromy has tied the record for the fastest victory in Rohad history. Seven seconds.”

The emperor rose to his feet, clapping loudly. Falcon and rest of the crowd followed suit.