My feet flattened the sand below as I lunged with my spear.
I focused on nothing but the opponent in front of me, even the crowd's noises were deafened.
One of my feet stepped heavily, followed by a thrust aimed at his upper body. He nimbly dodged to the side and did not bother to raise his stick.
I repeated the move with varied directions to throw him off.
To his top, to the bottom, to the head, none managed to achieve a significant hit. He maneuvered through them all with ease.
I kept on barraging him with a series of strikes, forcing him to move backward slowly but surely.
He brought himself to strode backward one step at a time until he suddenly stopped. He hit the edge of the cage where the guards stood.
He didn't have any time to move nor the space to dodge.
It was my chance.
With a quick forward bend, I let loose the majority of the power on my arm to deliver a massive blow. The damp stick flew to his vicinity and my fingers acted as a guide.
Hit.
An impact burst on his lower stomach. My mind was filled with a rush as I landed the attack.
But then I spotted his hold on my stick.
Unexpectedly, his hand grabbed the tip firmly, not letting it hit him.
"Unimpressive," he stoically said.
His grip tightened, and before I could react, he pushed it so strong I fell backward.
When my back brushed the sand, I used my hip to spring my body.
I rolled with the stick in hand, immediately standing and returned to my stance. His spear was then raised, approaching me with such menace.
It was finally his turn that time.
His stick was propelled to my face in a high-speed motion. My heart thumped once before my neck reflexively arched.
I froze as the stick stabbed the wind beside my ear, but he didn't let me process anything. He relentlessly proceeded to launch flurries of jabs that were too fast for me.
I hopped around to evade his attacks which brought me no good in the situation. Between the pursuit, my ankle and chest were struck, causing me to cough roughly.
I tried to run sideways to find a space but then he spun his stick and whacked me in the gut. My mouth was filled with a bitter sensation I wanted to vomit.
He unhurriedly lifted the stick over his head, similar to a throwing pose. His muscle bulked before his stick stabbed in the direction of my body. I rolled myself to the side as I barely got hit by the deadly strike.
The stick pierced through the ground deeply, buried within the soft sand. When he attempted to pull it out, my legs swiftly stretched and pinned the stick between my hips.
He was immobilized for a moment as a result of the sudden halt and I used the opening to return his assault.
From my laying position, I swung my stick and hoped for the best.
*BHUAKK*
His cheek was hit with the powerful force from my stick.
My senses were starting to return and I could faintly hear the gasps from people. There was an unsettling pause that lingered as my stick was gradually dropping. His face was turned to the side due to the impact which I had done. Unintentionally, my legs were releasing the hold of his stick out of stupor.
All of a sudden he spat the blood inside his mouth and glared at me. "Weak," he uttered.
He pulled out his spear in a flash and used his leg to kick my laying body further. I groaned because the left side of my body was hurting but it came out as a muffle since my mouth was filled with sand.
"Is this how you intend to fight?! Do you even have any will to compete within you?" he declared loudly before making his way to me again.
My body didn't follow my order to move, refusing to even rise from this position. But when he started to walk faster, my instinct kicked in and set my mind ablaze.
I jumped to my standing position, trying my best to ignore the pain. It would be impossible for me to fight him on equal footings, I needed another way to face this man.
I clasped my slippery spear harder, waiting for the right moment. He swiveled his spear while running to prepare for another strike, but that was the moment I needed.
I took a step back with one foot and raised the stick to the side of my ear, all in one quick succession. Before he could comprehend what I was trying to do, my hand launched the stick as fast as I could straight to his face.
The projectile left him surprised as he stopped on his track. Instead of dodging it, he used his stick to deflect mine. However, that move made his side prone to attacks.
Not even an eye blink after, I dashed to his opened flank and avoided his jab. Moving agilely to prevent him from catching me, I leaped onto the back of his neck.
I locked his throat with my elbows and strangled him with the puny muscles I had. To my contempt, he still managed to speak through all of that.
"Nice try," he said after looking behind.
His hands grabbed my wrists harshly and immediately my body was hurled to the front.
"But it's never enough," he spoke as he slammed me into the sand. My back was the first to receive the impact and I swore I could hear a breaking sound.
"You honestly intrigued me. Tell me the reason you are fighting now," his hands fully locked mine while he was inquiring me. I was being in too much pain and did not find the energy to answer him.
Regardless, he kept on nagging me until I satisfy his wants. "Tell me now!" his grasp strengthened even more.
"I...I don't want us...to be shamed...any further," I spoke feebly.
"No, before that. Why do you join this in the first place?" he asked again.
I was silent.
Why? My grandfather asked me, that was why. Nothing else, maybe.
"No answer?" his voice was a bit more toned down. "Then did your parent ask you to?" he continued the barrage of questions.
I nodded firmly.
"Be honest with me, did he threaten you?" he spun my body around until I could see grandfather in my line of sight. He was worried about me, a very troubled look haunted his face.
"He...would never," I answered with certainty.
"You struggle so hard for a position that you wasn't forced into. So, I guess you actually wanted to join the elites," he released my hands but then he threw me again to the front.
From one of my ears, I vaguely heard my grandfather shout between the crowd's murmurs. "Yana!" his shout was a combination of worry and anger.
Sharka flipped me over, making me laying facing him. His stick was pressed to my chest, "Now, in what good reason you wanted to become an elite?" he asked while adding a little pressure to the stick.
"I want us...to live in better terms, at least...that's what I wanted," I answered honestly to him.
He closed his eyes and exhaled before speaking, "I will be honest with you, you are a fool indeed. You don't even have the decency to follow basic traditions. If your tributes were lacking, you could have said no and try again next year. Then again, you weren't assertive enough to reject your parent's crazy notion," he finished with a glare at me.
"For insulting our tradition and ancestors, this fight blessed by the king was your sentence to pay!" he screamed loud enough for everyone to hear.
From the corner of my eyes, I could spot the king who watched it all happened contently. "And for you," he pointed at grandfather before continuing, "your sentence was to witness and endure the beating of your son," he looked at me again after finishing.
"For now, you have been forgiven for your mistake," he said that yet his stare was getting more intense. "But is that all? If you wanted to become an elite, then might as well finish it," Sharka spoke.
"You seemed to feel obligated to your parent since you can agree with what he asked you easily. Why was it? Because you felt like a burden? He wasn't able to provide for the both of you? Regardless of the answer, you will bring nothing home for your family now if you surrender," he spoke brashly, but somehow I sensed a taunt in his words. My insides began to boil.
"Prove it to me that you wanted to become an elite! Is this the only best you can do for your parent?!" he shouted.
By then, I let rage took over me.
"Aaggh!" my teeth winced, wounds hit every corner of my body, but I kept on moving.
I kicked him on the crotch from below, making him flinched from the shock. His stick was laying beside me, which I grabbed and hurled toward his wrapped wound.
He squirmed even more as the blood was starting to flow on his body. I remained on pushing the stick to his wound until he fell to his back from the sudden pain.
I raised my body to keep pressuring him and when I thought I had the upper hand, he unexpectedly showed a satisfied look.
"This is a good start for you," he said before snatching the stick and yanked it into my head.
The impact was too hard for me to receive, therefore my body totally gave up.
"Pick him up," I heard Sharka's words as my vision was getting rather blurry.
A stepping sound approached me and the owner's voice was echoing in my ears. "Yana!" he picked me up and carried me between his hands.
"Yana, I'm sorry, I didn't know they would rough you up this much," it was the face I recognized so much.
"Neither did I," I said weakly.
"I thought they would stop the fight midway, that was really dangerous," his worrying tone which didn't suit him was present. We then walked through all of the crowd, probably to find the way back home.
But before then, a person hindered us. "Aren't you interesting? You should be glad Sharka held back for you," the king commented, which my grandfather replied with a stare.
"If you excuse me," he passed through the king, not trying to mind his presence. It seemed he still held an unexplainable grudge toward him.
"My daughter enjoyed your fight, you should be here again next year!" the king shouted from afar. By then I finally noticed the missing girl who used to follow the king everywhere. She must have moved on to another match. I was disappointed that I could not see her, but it can't be helped.
The first matches were probably over by now and everyone was eating the fishes which were offered as tributes. They roasted the fish with campfires and shared them until there was enough for everyone.
I saw the other contestants as their attention was shifted to me. I noticed that most of them were suffering from bruises at most, which was the usual threshold for losing. Mine was an extreme case and everyone was becoming intrigued by my fight.
"Hey, grandpa," I called to him.
"Huh?" he replied while still focusing on the path.
"I did put up...a great fight, right?" I asked him with a smile that formed itself.
Grandfather was glancing blankly at me until he suddenly chuckled, "damn you did!".
We walked until we reached our house at the village's edge, which looked more like a shack. It was small and far enough from the standard a regular house. It was made of wood and brought together by ropes, guarded by a triangular roof made with big leaves and vines. A stair was provided to give access to the heightened floor.
He laid me down on the floor before checking for any bleeding, in which he found none. The hurting was coming from the inside and I told him to leave it alone.
"No helping it I guess, what if I bring you some food?" he gave up and planned to do something else instead. The people were having a feast and we should have been joining if not for my condition.
"I would like that," I said.
He nodded and proceeded to walk to the ceremonial site.
When he was about to leave, I grabbed his hand solidly. "Grandpa, I WILL become an elite one day, give me some time," I spoke resolutely.
He looked at me with a pleased expression and scratched my hair, "will you thank me for showing you the way now?" he uttered with a teasing tone.
"I got beat up because of you, so no," I said in a completely not serious manner.
"Huugh! You ungrateful child, just sulking around all day. Fine by me, then," he grumbled jokingly before walking away. I could only let out a small laugh when he got far enough.
As I laid again and watched the ceremonial eating on the beach, I remembered the last reprimand that Sharka gave to me.
Was this all I could do to my grandfather?
Honestly, I didn't know. I was only eleven. Fighting and dying for the war was the last thing I ever thought of in this age. I only knew the pay was good, and better if you were an elite so I was interested. Later when I would be big enough to defend myself, I would make so much money by battling until grandfather didn't have to work anymore.
My stream of thoughts was cut when a figure who brought something approached my home from the beach. With clothing distinct enough from the crowd, I could easily tell who she was. But it was odd since the guards weren't there with her. And then it intrigued me when I saw what she was bringing.
The girl was there, lifting my spear in her hand.