District One Tournament Semifinals: Wright vs Missingno

You had wished the fight yesterday hadn’t ended so abruptly. Both Isaac and Val had offered a different sort of fight than you were used to. Not the same sort of brawl that most of the boys from one scratched out on the mat; they were soft between the cuts they offered against your flesh. Daybreak through a darkening morning, or fresh rain after a high summer’s heat. You’d been so intrigued by Val you’d even willed yourself to visit the medical tent.

Day three offered one round prior to the finale, to momentary fame or continued obscurity. You’d sat in your bed and thought about how as much as you might have wanted this, winning had become a lot less important today than it’d been a few days go. The collection of scrapes across your chest would serve as a badge all their own in the future, you needn’t a laurel to show what you were capable of.

But perhaps more than that, you’d uncovered other boys like you, those that you’d never met before, right here in this district. Suddenly the quiet little gray room at the end of an unremarkable street seemed a lot less lonely.

So when you entered the arena for what could have been the final time of the tournament, your only thought was that you would try, and that afterward, you’d go and find Isaac, or Val, and celebrate.

I'm not interested in dragging this out, alright? His voice is gravel and smoke. Let's get this over with.

This was much more what you were expecting. An eagerness for glory rather than the fight itself.

You sidestep his knife and parry with your glaive.

“As you wish.” What else is there to say? Nothing. Just strike, and carry on.

[Rith attacks Javelin with his glaive]
2oho7Wghfdglaive
[result:13173 -- Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage (Glaive)]

25/25

You glance his arm and recoil, readying again with your polearm pointed forward. This time there’s reply to balance yours, no footstep to keep time. More a measure of one blow to the next, just as you’d faced a hundred times before. Boys back at your gym would charge and retreat in combinations that became obvious once you recognized the strategy. From what you’d heard he was a whiz with the knife, but you’re still buzzing from your foxtrot with Val that you don’t worry.

If this is meant to be a solitary dance, you’ll take that, with your opponent playing the part of a willing audience participant.

He crows out to mock your reply, and you shrug back your shoulders. What are you, a fairytale knight?

You aren’t well read and you don’t recognize what he might be referring to, but welcome the comparison. Knights were supposed to have fought for honor and gone on adventures. Would that you were a knight, and not stuck here. But you enjoyed the thrill of the fight more than anything, so perhaps you were more like them than you knew. Still, you’d heard the needling before from boys trying to find any foothold that might distract you.

“Not as far as I know,” You reply. You wish you were fighting Val again. You might have even let him last a little longer this time. “Are you?”

[Rith attacks Javelin with his glaive]
g2|bCf7SpGglaive
[result:13187 -- Deep Gash on Back -- 8.5 damage (Glaive)]

25/25