Tri-District Tournament Day Two: Voclain vs Scarr

My head’s still spinning from yesterday’s fight, and the unexpected ending that had me retiring to my room much too early. A forfeit – something rarely heard of in Career tournaments, let alone during a final 16 round. But after I’d knocked her to the ground and demanded she answer my questions, the brunette simply congratulated me and left the arena before I had the chance to get any answers out of her.

I don’t know what compelling force was at play last night, but after the fight had been abandoned and I’d bandaged the wound on my arm, I had sought her out on my own – Cleo Valerie, a name I won’t forget now, after our agreement.

I’m still trying to convince myself I only did it out of pity. I’d found her in her room with tear stains on her face, blubbering about her father, trying to pull herself back together. I should have left then, not gotten involved. But instead, I’d offered to train with her when we returned home. Given her some half-hearted words of encouragement, some loose promise about it not being too late to make her family proud.

I hadn’t stayed long. Was determined to leave quickly, before I could come up with any other ridiculous ideas – but not before I saw the faintest of smiles on her face, felt something of a small warmth in my chest.

But today, it’s back to my cold heart, and a new competitor. No time to be weak now. If there had to be someone to carry the flame for District Two, it was better me than Cleo, surely.

Funnily enough, that’s exactly the situation I find myself in this morning, marching towards my top 8 match-up. The remaining three careers from back home had all been bested in their respective fights. I hadn’t watched them, but made sure to check the fight brackets later that day once the matches were over.

Ransom Voclain. District Four.

Fast forward, and I’m face-to-face with a burly looking boy wearing a mirthless smile, arrogance painted all over his face.

Great. Another District Four cockhead riding the coattail benefits of their recent Victor. So typical – they reap the rewards, the prestige, of the hometown hero without having lifted a finger of their own. I almost feel bad for Nixie Summers – almost.

I roll my eyes as I look around the room – four fights today, two fights tomorrow. Our numbers are being cut exponentially, and yet it feels like there’s even more people here today than there was yesterday. Granted, the audience growth is likely attributed to the big name Matches – two Frays left in the mix, a Morrisen and Le Roux their opponents. It’s not hard to see where the interest lies.

But that’s just fine with me. I’m not in this for the fame, the glory. I’m perfectly content with my anonymity. That’s why the growing number of spectators unnerves me slightly. I’m just a nobody girl, not used to this type of pressure, and yet here we are. District Two’s last hope, I scoff at how ridiculous that sounds, all the while trying to push down the nerves creeping up my spine.

“I was hoping the Harvard girl would eat you up. I was looking forward to facing her myself.” Tatiana, a familiar name that sounded like unfinished business. But there’ll be more fights back home after this tournament has come and gone – no point dwelling on the could-have-beens.

Instead, I focus my attention on the fight at hand and try to ignore the eyes of the growing audience watching, waiting, as I move forward.

xx attacks ransom with naginata (glaive)

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stabbed in forearm -- 8.5

My blade finds skin, and there’s a few gasps of approval from the growing crowd which I try to ignore, desperately hoping it doesn’t distract me from the task at hand. Stamina, endurance, I remind myself that this is not a sprint. I try to keep my cool, but this boy’s got the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard and it’s infuriating. When he speaks, his words are dripping with sarcasm and hitting every agitated nerve in my body.

“Cry me a river. She needs the training anyway. Find her after I send you back home.”

Oh, I definitely plan on that. I don’t bother to correct him on the last part of his little monologue, though. I’m not a fan of the whole pretentious act. No point wasting my breath on this loser.

“Don’t disappoint me.”

I roll my eyes, moving swiftly to the side as I see his blade coming towards me and just fading wide.

Let’s get this over with.

xx attacks ransom with naginata (glaive)

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dg left calf -- 8