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The final Tier in the tournaments is a glass ceiling that many rising stars collide with before their descent. Rannith's Team Captain knew that all too well and it has been an uphill battle she's faced alone. Many sponsors haven't given her or their team the time of day except one sponsor. It was the only sponsor that would meet with her, so she needed to take the opportunity that presented itself.
No one else was present for their meeting. It was long and tense and regardless how hospitable he had seemed, there was nothing welcoming about their talk. He had been honest that the terms he presented were probably not going to be terms that she liked. He knew he was the only sponsor that would help them reach the final tier, so he was willing to negotiate the terms, to make their contract more comfortable. So negotiate they did, for the next 9 hours.
They negotiated in a small, dark smokey cigar bar about the terms of his deal that by the time they both got to walk away, the bottom line of what they wanted in the end was achieved.
"No deal is without its costs and nothing in life is free." That's what Rannith had told her when she announced to the team that she might have found a sponsor willing to take them to the next level only a few days prior. Now that the deal had been signed, she knew exactly what he had meant by his cryptic warning. Now that their dream was so close to coming to an end, she was left with more questions than answers about her beloved right-hand man. What had he gone through to not just be wary but almost expect that such a negotiation would turn so cruel? What did he see or know that she didn't? Why hadn't she spent more time understanding him, more than just the concrete wall he lets everyone see?
Regret was the biggest reward in the negotiations that happened that day, taking over any kind of thoughts. Now that they will be moving up into the final ranks and it would fall onto her shoulders to tell her second in command, her wingman and best friend, the most devastating news.
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The next training day came. Their team captain had spent all of that time leading up to it trying to figure out what was the right thing to say or how to say it, when to say it and what she should do until her contract with their sponsor expires.
She thought she had all the words on what to say and what to do figured out until Rannith did show up. He was late this day for some reason, he hadn't sent any text explaining ahead of time or what the cause might have been. There was no indication if his day started out right or if he was in a good mood, he was simply his consistent self.
Not in front of the rest of the team. She knew right away that it would be the worst possibility and met him at the entrance instead.
"Hey, Rannith, can I talk to you for a minute?" she rushed over to his side and he waited for her. She choked on her words, standing face to face with him. He trusted her, she knew that, and here it was that she needed to break that trust. There was no prepared speech, no flowery words to hide any details, no beating around the bush; she confessed everything. Confessed how the meeting was set up to where it took place, how long it had gone and what were the damning terms she regretfully signed. She poured out her apologies and her regrets, her hesitations and possible remedies but after a certain point, none of that seemed to go through to him. That concrete wall he had built up shattered the more she tried to explain, and she could see everything he was in those red eyes: the pain, the betrayal of all the experiences in his life he had gone through—ones she had never considered until this deal.
"That's enough." he calmly, quietly, interrupted her. "You don't need to explain anything more. Have a good training session." He finished. His captain tried to reach out to stop him but he just pushed her hand away while he turned to leave. There was no reason to try and stop him, not anymore, not any longer. Despite her fears, many circumstances had led to that being the last time either of them would talk to each other for the next several years.
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If not in teams, solo fights was all Rannith had left. They weren't as worth it as finding a team but they helped pass the time and the income. He continued to train and teach where he could but as "A former high tier champion" his new reputation did him no service to help his fragile situation.
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This country is known for the tournaments but the biggest profit is those who finance, that's why any team would need a sponsor. While the one Rannith's former team had gotten a sponsor to bring up their ranks, there's always the big spenders, the wolves of wall street kind, the Luxe class investors. Alexander Laveau is one such person.
Mr. Laveau is the owner of one of the top 3 investment banks and venue with which people come to bet on potential winners of competitions. As the CEO of Dylidae Investments, it was rare for him to contribute any kind of coinage in a direction but it's not something he wasn't unfamiliar with. He knows the name of the game rather thoroughly from his own merits and he wouldn't want to risk being pulled down for possible suspiciouns of favoritism. So he usually didn't pay any interest into the champions and would have continued to do so if it wasn't for the fact that he has grown bored with life as of late.
One of his old time business partners had recommended that he might find a new, later in life spark again if he tried taking on a champion to sponsor or few. Not in any means to damage Mr. Laveau's reputation but to take advantage of the fact not many know the face that's connected to his name. He's not one to act too rashly so he decided to take his time, look into the possible candidates, and do a little bit of personal research into each and every one of them. A remarkable string of coincidences was the only thing that drew his attention to the once lowly noble, now champion, trainer, and competitor.
Some time later Rannith was having a pretty bad day. He hadn't won a single match, the more time went on, it was to be expected, but it didn't make this day's lose streak any better.
After showering, he had just barely started dressing himself when he heard the step-click of a men's dress shoe and metal prosthetic on the marble floors. Quickly pulling on his pants, he called out to the unfamiliar footsteps "You know, this area isn't open to the public right?"
There was no answer as the steps came closer. Shirt be damned, he grabbed a knife and quickly concealed it just out of sight but not in the usual places; just in case they knew his usual tricks from the arena. He moved without a sound next to the doorway, waiting for them to come within range.
The moment he saw the shoulder of a refined dress shirt, he wrapped his arm around the doorframe and pressed the knife to the stranger's neck, pulling them against the other side of the wall. "There's security by every door of this building and you shouldn't be here. Give me one reason that you wouldn't be harmed in self defence?" he asked, hostile and cold but ready to follow through with his promise. "And why shouldn't I be allowed in my own stadium?" the man said with a sly grin.
The knife left his neck just as quickly as it was placed. Mr. Laveau let out a deep sounding chuckle and stepped away from the wall to turn the corner and have their formal introductions face to face. "You work for Dylidae Investments?" Rannith asked, taking a step back and putting the knife away but keeping an eye on the person who moved in the otherwise empty locker room.
The man's right leg ended as a prosthetic, just as Rannith had guessed. His stature was large, posture relaxed, but even still there was a defined firmness to his build that gave out the information that this person stayed in very good shape underneath a concealing layer of body fat. Despite the formal clothes, his stance stayed wider than the average person's and his elbows slightly turned out a bit. While he had some very small scars, hardly noticeable, this made it clear for Rannith that if he had to fight the man before him, it must certainly never get to the point they where they would fight hand to hand; so he kept his distance.
"I don't work for Dylidae Investments." he said with a coy sneer. "I own Dylidae Investments." Rannith didn't give him the groveling courtesy most people did when getting to know his corporate position, he liked that about the kid. He assumed it might have something to do with his foreign roots and the conniving family he had been initially born to.
"And what brings you here? Benefactor?" the champion asked, disguising the weariness he had and grabbed for his shirt quickly, choosing modesty over manners.
"I came with an offer. See, I heard you're looking for a sponsor and I've been rather bored as of late, feeling a little generous even. I'm willing to cut you a deal." He gestured leisurely in no rush what-so-ever, contrast to the fighter who found attending to other business a growing urgency.
"Whoever told you I'm looking for a sponsor is lying to you. I am doing no such thing." "But you need one, no? What champion in the ring doesn't look for someone who can help move them along?" Mr. Laveau pried, reading the boy as Rannith returned in kind.
Alexander wasn't leaving, confident in that, and confident that neither was Rannith as they both took note that the elder of the two still blocked the only exit that wouldn't result in Rannith getting himself arrested.
"Maybe a champion who is looking to simply make ends meet by the end of the day so they can pay their bills by tomorrow." Rannith said, pulling his duffle bag across his body while taking one step to the side. The tip of the remaining foot the man had followed. "If that's all you need then why don't you join a fight club? I'm sure the costs would pay much more handsomely if you go to the right places. A lot of things would certainly cost less as well." he prodded.
"Maybe I thought about it, maybe I already am. What would you know?" he retorted, his tail whipped back and forth in impatience, making the tycoon laugh. "I would certainly know that you haven't thus far even considered it. Not by the way you have your life together. But I'll tell you what is what, kid." He dropped his jovial attitude for a more serious business talk. "You've got your entire life balanced on a very fine line that is bound to fall apart in time. I would say give it a month, more or less. I know you're smart enough to realize that. I'm offering to be your sponsor, not just in the championships. To hell with the championships if that's what you so please. I'm offering to be your sponsor through the Adventurer's guild. Your life will start getting very hard very quickly and I'm offering you a deal that you can ask me for anything as long as you perform well with some tasks I give you. You don't need to worry about any other details. The only question required is 'what is it you want or need?'. I'll give anything you need and I won't question it. You can have your own of anything; blackjack, hookers and all if you want. I won't ask much of you but only if you're willing."
Mr. Laveau held out his hand, warmly this time and sympathetically. Rannith knew that his living situation was in a fragile spot, he couldn't lie to himself about that, but what was to entail after agreeing to a sponsorship through the adventurer's guild? The possibility of larger risks grew exponentially that made having an answer in this moment more difficult.
"It's a shame what happened to your old team." Alexander spoke softly, breaking Rannith out of his own thoughts. "I know what it's like to get left behind by your old team. My old teammates left me behind a long time ago. While it was assumed that things were left on moderate terms, things changed now. They and their son are trying to twist my business behind my back. I found interest in wanting to sponsor you cause somewhere in my tired soul I was hoping maybe you could understand that much, you don't have to relate to it or sob any crocodile tears for me. Understanding is all I ask for."
His eyes stayed low, staring as if there was a far distance to gaze upon past the stone floors. Rannith could understand, maybe he couldn't empathize and relate to the length and complexity of such a betrayal or the cruelty in his old teammate's turning on him, but that was never not a possibility that could happen. There was truth in those words, a truth he wanted to trust, maybe needed it even.
Understanding what he felt in the moment or why didn't matter after that point. Rannith's hand was already stretched out and reached Mr. Laveau's as they came to an agreement, an understanding, that they would never need to pass the paper thin surface of their contract. It felt like the best choice for the both of them.