Chapter 3
Eye of the Tiger
The fighting had already started.
Bronkheim could hear the ringing sound of heavy blows as he jogged through the tunnel towards the colosseum pit. He and Whiskey had taken Espresso to the medical bay. Her immobility had been caused by her muscles rapidly growing, then tearing, an unfortunate consequence of her resonance. Apparently, she’d get better after a few days and some protein heavy food. Bronkheim didn’t exactly ‘get it,’ but it seemed like it had happened a few times before and he knew it wasn’t his place to linger by the bed once the sisters started talking about Dusk’s… unorthodox approach.
Whiskey was as furious as she was concerned, doting on her sister while she cursed the older man. Espresso seemed… frustrated? Bronkheim struggled to parse out what the younger woman genuinely thought against what she said to calm her older sister. Although the young tuner held some sympathy for his senior, he sometimes wondered if it the older man should hang up his trilby and step away from his work for a while.
The chanting calls of hundreds of disembodied voices cut short his empathetic musings. He knew immediately what it meant. Ashara had activated his Resonance, Cloudwalk. The excited, cutty cries that accompanied it were as joyous as they were intimidating, it was by far the most bespoke hum within the Silverwatch. None of them would mistake it anywhere.
In the centre of the arena, a cloud of dense fog erupted to life and a blurred figure slammed into them. As the clouds cleared, Bronkheim saw him crouching on the ground in a fighting stance, staring high up into the colosseum’s ancient stands.
As the younger man jogged out of the tunnel and towards the bleachers, he craned his head to follow Ashara’s gaze. The new girl – Nia? – was running across the stone some two-hundred feet up from the colosseum’s pit. How the hell had she gotten up there? Hopping, then pirouetting in the air, she flung three knives with deadly aim towards Ashara, who ducked his head around the first two and caught the third, discarding in on the ground by his feet. Thick, grey clouds formed beneath his feet, hoisting him into the air like a magic carpet before tearing off towards Nia. Bronkheim took a seat next to Charlotte.
“How’s Espresso?” The swordswoman was questioning him before he had even sat down.
“She’s fine, a little sore and a little grumbly, but she’s gonna be okay.” Bronkheim tried to offer a reassuring smile as he sat, pausing for a moment to smooth a crease in his top.
“Good. Poor thing. She’d been practicing so hard to get ready for this…” There was still tension in Charlotte’s jaw as she flicked her eyes towards Dusk.
“How’s this one doing?” Bronkheim asked, nodding towards Nia.
“See for yourself.” Charlotte waved a hand towards the fight. “I’ve been impressed so far.”
As Ashara’s flying cloud carried him up the stones towards his foe, he weaved past two more throwing daggers. He looked like he was surfing, as though the hundreds of rows of stone seating were some kind of rolling, earthen wave. Just as he reached Nia, the cloud swooped high, turning him upside down for a moment and depositing him in a roll behind her.
The second Ashara caught himself, he went on the offensive, pushing force through his coiled body to throw a straight kick at Nia. Expecting her to be on the defensive, he turned his head to see where she was blocking, ready to adjust his aim to an open area. His diligence was rewarded not with information, but with the sight of Nia’s own kick aimed straight at his head. He launched his attack instantly, and both fighters punted the other in the face.
Nia, launched at the higher angle, flew backwards and tumbled over the stone, rolling down a few levels before she could gain control of her descent. Ashara, on the other hand, had his head slammed into the floor. He pushed through the throbbing pain, hauling himself to his feet just in time to see Nia tearing up the stairs towards him with a manic grin, fangs bared and hands reaching to unclasp the next pair of daggers.
The nervous, star struck girl was gone. Ashara had known many foes that fought like wild animals. Deranged tuners, soldiers from other lands, hinterland beasts. In all of those fights, he had been the lion, the hunter. For the first time in a very long time, he was being forced to take on the role of the hunted.
When reached his level, she fished two more daggers out from the holster on her chest. Spinning the first one and holding it like a blade, she tossed it straight at Ashara’s stomach. He swatted it out of the air as he walked towards her.
The two met on Ashara’s half of the seating. As Nia ran into range, a small hop took her off the ground and she raised her knee up over her stomach. Anticipating a kick, Ashara tried to bring his leg up in kind. Anticipating Ashara’s quick defence, Nia slammed her raised foot not into Ashara’s body, but into the top of his knee which he was bringing up to block. Ashara felt a brief flash of pain as his foot slammed back into the ground prematurely. Pulling back the same leg that she had just stomped with, Nia lashed a second, sweeping kick towards his face. Ashara shifted his weight back and let the attack sail by.
Neither fighter wanted to disengage. As soon as Ashara had reclaimed his balance, he took a short step forward and poured on the pressure. One jab, blocked by Nia’s guard. Next, a heavy cross. Seeing Nia grit her teeth and take the blow on her forearms, Ashara smiled. He took another step in and threw a heavy hook, expecting her to block. She didn’t. As soon as her eyes clocked the attack, she dropped her weight low and let it swing overhead. Ashara raised his knee, trying to clip her as she went low, but Nia threw her front leg off of the row of seats that they were stood on, onto the one below them. As she did, she dropped even lower, and Ashara’s knee hit nothing but air.
His back was turned to her now, and she felt her grab his belt and pull. He lurched, shocked for a moment at the absurdity of her counter-attack, before she hoisted him off of his feet and threw him down the stairs.
Ashara acrobatically turned, following through with the throw until his feet were pointed towards the ground. As he did, he manifested another pillowy, floating cloud. Crouching to absorb the force of his landing, he put his attention squarely back on Nia. She was bowling the knife towards him, but something was different this time. A three-layered thrum was ringing, it sounded like the harmonised beat of hummingbird wings. As soon as her Resonance flared to life, the characteristic sound that accompanied it was overshadowed by the crack of an object breaking the sound barrier. The knife accelerated forwards at an impossible speed.
Ashara didn’t have enough time to dodge, let alone try to catch the thrown blade. In a split-second moment of recognition, another song started to emerge. It wasn’t like Ashara’s Cloudwalk. There was no community to the cry, no excitement, the overlaying voices called in a reverent tone, in the same way one might praise a king or a god. The knife slammed straight into his chest, and a golden light poured forth from the point of contact. It streamed and billowed like the light that poured off of the morning sun.
The knife was stuck, as though it had slammed into an impossibly hard wall of force which was holding it in place. Nia stared in confusion as the knifepoint failed to pierce his skin, but even still it did not stop pushing. Ashara’s whose face had risen in momentary confidence, look down in equal befuddlement as the force of the knife overwhelmed him and started pushing him off of his cloud.
From high up in the colosseum seats, Nia strained her outstretched palm and drove her Resonance forward with all of her strength. The knife buckled and strained, struggling against the competing forces of Nia and Ashara’s separate resonances. The thrashing blade started to chip ad shatter, but Ashara’s cloud gave out first. The knife lifted him off of his feet, and launched him off of the ground. He careened to the ground as though he had been shot out of a cannon. More golden light flashed from his back as it slammed into the colosseum pit, kicking up a spray of wood chips. Nia stared down, for a while, waiting for the light and falling wood to stop polluting her view. When the debris cleared, however, he was stood there without mark or injury, applauding her.
“Excellent showing so far, Nia!”
Nia shook off the confusion and started running. The second she made it to the stairs along the side of the colosseum seats, she was off like a rocket in her descent towards the pit. Her thoughts were moving even faster. His resonance was the ability to create and control clouds? How had he blocked her attack? Is there something more fundamental underpinning both abilities that she hadn’t connected yet?
Ashara had an impressive record of leaving most fights without major injury, but Nia had assumed it was due to superior skill rather than some property of his resonance. Did this light have something to do with it? There was no way to build a truly flawless resonance, there must be some trick to it… Still, he hadn’t been able to overpower her knife. Even if she couldn’t injure him, she still had a shot to win. Nia fished the handcuffs out of her back pocket as she reached the bottom of the stairs and vaulted the wall that separated her from the pit. At this lower altitude, she could see the collective shock that he smacked the small cluster of people who watched from the bleachers. Even the ever-surly Dusk had set aside his cigarettes and book, intently watching her leap back into the battlefield.
As soon as her feet hit the ground, she was in motion again. Ashara adopted a ready stance, pulling a leg back and letting one hand drift forward. Nia did not punch as she got into range, she did not even break form her sprint. Throwing herself forward, she tried to slam her outstretched palm into Ashara’s chest. The man deflected her attack from the side by smacking her wrist out of the way and taking a lateral step to position himself by her flank. As he slipped by, Nia pre-emptively fell into a roll; somewhere behind her, she heard his fist swing through the air above her head.
Skidding through the gravel, she pushed with all her might and continued the chase. There was a flash of realisation over Ashara’s face before he started to quickly step away. When Nia drew close, he quickly kicked, not at her body, but at her wrist, once again knocking away her outstretched palm.
“Your resonance, you need palm contact, right?” His question was punctuated by a stiff cross that landed flush into her shoulder. By reaching towards him again, she had moved straight into the line of the attack. A searing pain rocked her as she stumbled back. For the first time since she threw the last knife, she paused for a second.
“You’ve got the right idea…” Ashara darted backwards as Nia paused, both fighters catching their breath. “If I couldn’t overpower the knife, then you’ll probably be able to restrain me directly. Very observant. But palm contact? That’s a major restriction. I’ve figured it out now, so all I need to do is make sure you don’t touch me.”
“Yeah, those are the breaks.” Nia shrugged, a smile on her face as she started stalking around Ashara. “I already knew about Cloudwalk, everyone’s seen it, but how the hell did you block my knife?”
“Trade secret.” Ashara quipped and darted towards Nia. As he raised a knee, preparing a kick, she shot her hand down and tried to catch it. Inches before it made contact, Ashara pulled his leg back and kicked it into the ground behind him, launching him into a vicious elbow that clipped Nia in her other shoulder and knocked her to the floor. Cursing herself for dropping her guard, she let the momentum of her fall carry her into a backwards roll as Ashara gained on her.
“A resonance like that must be tiring. How many times can you use it in a day? Twice?” Though he was making conversation, he was hardly giving Nia much time to answer. Every time Ashara attacked; Nia tried to counter attack with her palm strike. Every time she did, he avoided the attack and launched another one at the area she had exposed by opening her guard. There wasn’t a great degree of difference in their physical strength, but Ashara was so much faster that Nia felt as though she could hardly follow his movements.
Taking a step back, she watched Ashara hound her down and remembered the beginning of Dusk’s fight with Espresso. With all his attention on blocking her hand, would he… Nia threw caution to the wind and launched a straight kick aimed at the man’s gut, just as her senior had done in the fight before her. Ashara’s eyes widened in surprise as they followed her attack, he was too deep into his forward charge to pull back or block, but he didn’t seem worried. As Nia kicked him, that golden light returned enveloping her foot for a moment. She saw his body buckle and jerk away slamming into the ground, but just as soon as he hit the floor, he picked himself back up, as though he had never been hit.
“Three times, Sir.” Nia took a few steps backwards as she watched him. “I can use it three times a day.”
“You’ve got two more chances, then. Show me what you can make with them.” As Ashara sprung back into the battle, the force of his attack kicked up Dusk’s ruined coat, which had remained discarded since his battle. A spark of inspiration caught in Nia’s mind, but before she could think through a plan, her foe was upon her.
Nia knew that she had been handling herself better when they were focusing on kicks so far. Ashara was approaching being a foot taller than her, his arms were longer, and he had already made clear his ability to parry her attacks without compromising on the timing of his own. That was fine, Nia consoled herself. She could match him in kicking.
As Ashara stepped into striking range, he launched a stiff jab aimed at Nia’s face. She slipped under the punch, cutting on the outside, and flung a knee into his stomach. Ducking his face behind his shoulder, his other shot down to catch the blow. For a moment, Nia considered throwing a palm at his exposed side, but her caution paid off as she saw him pre-emptively drag a fierce elbow through the space that her head would have travelled to if she tried to carry out that attack. The force of the motion swung Ashara’s body around to face her once again, while Nia set the distance for her game plan.
When Ashara tried to close the cap, Nia launched another kick to his stomach. He raised a knee to block it, accepting her challenge, their legs clashed together. As soon as she pulled her leg back, he transitioned from a raised knee to a kick at her midriff. This time, Nia took a turn to block, checking his attack by raising her leg to stifle its momentum. Once again, Nia fought the temptation to drop her hand and try to catch him with her resonance, but rationality won out again and she saw what she had been waiting for.
Pre-empting that she would try to attack him with her Resonance, Ashara pushed his anchoring leg off of the ground and swung his knee at her. As he threw himself into the air, Nia rolled beneath him and made a break for Dusk’s cloak. Ashara twisted his foot as he touched the ground, spinning him around to follow her movements with both fists raised in case she had lingered close and tried to throw another palm. Pausing for a moment to watch her running, he narrowed his eyes and tore after her.
Ashara was faster. Nia knew that already. But the difference in time between their initial speed had given her just enough distance to grab the tattered raincoat. The heavy, black cloth wrapped around her hand as she spun to face her opponent. Ashara was upon her. It was now or never.
Thrusting her hand towards him, she saw him ready another attack to displace it. Her resonance flared to life early. She wasn’t targeting him. As the propulsive force of her resonance flowed into Dusk’s tattered coat, it flew away from her like a flag that had snapped off of its pole in the middle of a storm. It slammed straight into Ashara’s face, wrapping around him, yanking his head back, covering his eyes.
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Nia lunged forward, her palm outstretched, fingers splayed ready to pour the last use of her resonance into her foe. Mere inches before contact, Ashara stopped fighting against the coat, lifting his feet up, he let it pull him through the air and out of reach. Nia stumbled into a forward roll with a manic grin. As she realigned herself, she saw Ashara raise his hands in front of his face, trying to pry the coat off of him.
Nia raised her left hand, clutching the handcuffs given to her. Shaking as she tried to aim; she steadied herself by taking planting a knee on the ground and clasping her right hand over her wrist. Her resonance hummed to life once more and she shot the handcuffs towards Ashara. They screamed as they tore through the air. There was no way that she’d be able to get the cuffs themselves to catch on his hand, but as they collided with his arms the chain between them snagged. The cuffs slammed into one another, warping and wrapping around as they accommodated for the force of Nia’s resonance, pulling Ashara’s arms into a tight bind and launching him with renewed force. Gold light poured from behind his back as he slammed into the wall of the colosseum pit. He had left the effective range of Nia’s resonance, and the force affected the coat and cuffs subsided. Though the cloth fell from his face, the metal remained irreparably broken, caught around his arms.
Nia stood in silence, watching him. Ashara stared contemplatively at the handcuffs, flexing his arms for a moment to see if he could easily snap the warped metal. It groaned, but did not break. A single, shared breath was held between the three people on the stands, who leaned forward in anticipation. After a few more seconds of prolonged silence, Ashara raised his eyebrows and nodded approvingly. “Well shit, you got me!”
Bronkheim and Charlotte cheered in approval as the third member of the crowd applauded. For the first time since entering the colosseum pit, Nia spared a moment to really acknowledge her. Alongside the other two tuners, there was a petite woman in an oversized, brown coat. Her auburn hair was cut in a bob with a straight fringe, and she bore a wood-stock rifle slung over her back. She was clapping and smiling as she looked down into the pit at Nia. Everything about her seemed to whisper of a peaceful stillness, even her muted reaction comparative to her peers.
Nia took an exaggerated bow, before straightening back up and jogging over to Ashara. The man was forcefully twisting the handcuffs off from around his arms, turning them in different directions and straining against the metal, though he tilted his head towards her as she approached. “Congratulations Ms. Morotsov, good display.” He smiled as he pried the warped metal off of his wrists, letting it fall to the ground at his feet before offering her a hand to shake. She eagerly took it, white knuckled and panting to catch her breath.
“Okay, okay, tell me how that gold light works!” The excitement poured out of her despite her exhaustion. Ashara chuckled and patted a hand on her shoulder as he started walking by. “Like I said, trade secret.” As he crossed the seats, he caught Kaiser’s attention. “I’m going to go see how Whiskey’s doing and if she’s up to holding your test. If not, I’ll come do it myself.” Kaiser nodded quietly, his attention divided between Ashara and Nia. He offered no comment to either, though, as he reopened his book.
Nia jogged to catch up to Ashara. By the time his quizzical eye met hers, she had restrained the daredevil side of herself which their fight had drawn out. “I want to go check on Espresso.” Ashara nodded quietly as the two started their walk through the tunnel.
“Ashara?” Nia broke the quiet between them as they climbed a fight of stairs to the medical wing in the office.
“Yeah?” There was a caution to his voice, but he kept his gaze straight ahead.
“When I was young, Sil used to tell me that you were the most accomplished tuner of our time…” Nerves swirled within Nia’s chest as she prepared to have her pride shattered. “Did you let me win?”
Ashara visibly relaxed at the question, a soft smile forming on his face. “Not really, no.”
Nia cocked a brow, a flare of confidence growing. “Not really? You either did or you didn’t.”
“There were a couple of times where I pulled a punch, sure, but we weren’t meant to be going at each other with the intent to kill. In the end, you caught me off guard with a creative strategy, that’s what counts today.” The flare of confidence blossomed into a healthy, burning pride, it warmed Nia’s heart to its core.
Ashara held open the door at the top of the stair well, letting Nia pass as he walked in behind her. They were stood in the top of a tall tower. When the colosseum was young, it hard served as a place for the winning fighters to rest before their next bout. Nia saw a sad irony in its refurbishment to a resting bay for wounded tuners, but she appreciated the sentiment. It was like they were trying to tell her that, even if she failed, she would always be able to get back up and fight.
In a comfortable, white bed in the far corner of the room, sat Espresso, starting out of the window. Hunched on a chair by her side, Whiskey turned her head on a swivel as she saw Ashara and Nia walking into the room.
“God not you too!” She bolted from the chair and set upon Nia in a heartbeat, checking over her bruises and the cuts that had opened up from her constant rolling through the wood chips. “Ashara you idiot, — "
“Relax, Whiskey, I’m fine.” Nia chuckled and pulled the lady’s hands off of her. “Better than fine, she won.” Ashara complimented as he stepped past both of them and walked over to Espresso. The woman gave him a nervous glare as he spun Whiskey’s seat and sat down across from the bed. “How are you holding up, Miss Saint-Claire?”
“I’m fine, seriously, I just need a couple of days to recover.” There was a pleading look in Espresso’s eyes as she stared at the man sat before her. Ashara dismissively waved. “I don’t mean physically, Whiskey’s already told me about the recovery time. I’m asking you how you’re feeling.”
Espresso rolled her eyes and looked down towards the corner of the window, where the carcass of a moth was suspended in a spider’s nest. “Pretty fucking furious, can’t lie.”
Offering an understanding hum, Ashara followed her gaze to the web in the corner. “I can imagine so. Dusk was out of line, and he’ll be dealt with accordingly. I can promise you –“
“But he’s right, isn’t he?” Espresso turned her frustrations outward. “He showed me up in front of everyone. I’m not ready. I shouldn’t have even tried.”
“Essie…” Whiskey stepped towards the bed, but stopped as Ashara raised a hand.
“You didn’t let me finish. Miss Saint-Claire. Please.” He paused and waited for her to acknowledge him. After a moment, Espresso nodded his way, tacit approval for him to continue.
“Dusk was right, yeah. If you were sent on a mission to capture him, and his resonance was something different to what it was, things could have gotten really bad, sure. I’ll tell you what though, the same is true of Bronkheim and Coco, he was just as rough on them when they joined a few years ago.”
“Great, so its not just me.” Espresso looked away again, clenching the fabric of the sheets say lay under.
“In the conference that we held after both of their combat trials, he also insisted to me that they be given their first stars.” Ashara carried on, despite her interruptions. “Nobody’s asking you to be Dusk or Whiskey right now. We want to get to know you, and see if you’re ready to handle the type of stuff that we expect from a first-star watch member.”
“Then why pit me against him?” Espresso seethed. “You obviously knew that he was going to take it too seriously. Why did I have to get dragged through the dirt?”
“What did you do after you got dragged through the dirt, Miss Saint-Claire? When the others were cheering you on?” Ashara countered. Nia noticed him dodging the question and started trying to puzzle through what might have motivated him to choose this matchup. Obviously, she thought, Dusk and Kaiser couldn’t be paired together, and neither could Whiskey and Espresso. As Nia saw it, Ashara really had a simple choice. Who would he have rather fought, Espresso, or herself?
Pausing for a beat longer, Espresso mumbled. “I kept fighting.”
“That’s right.” Ashara encouraged, leaning forward with his elbows rested on his knees. “You were getting heckled and questioned, but you got encouragement from your peers and you used it to push through.” He waited for Espresso to meet his eyes once again before continuing. “When you’ve only got your first star, we don’t expect you to have all the answers for yourself. You don’t even get solo operations until you’ve got your third star. I’m testing you to see if I think you could pair up with a three-star and tuner and make a difference and you know what? I really think you can.”
Standing up, he looked down on Espresso for a moment as he swerved around the chair behind him. “Take a bit and mull it over, but if you still want this job then come by my office for your interview whenever you feel ready.”
Ashara turned to face Whiskey, levelling an even stare at her. “Right, you, how do you feel about testing Kaiser?”
Whiskey contorted her face in apprehension as she shrugged and made a non-commital groan before Espresso cut back in. “It’s fine, Sis, go do your thing.”
“I’ll stick around, if you’d like?” Nia offered, throwing her hat into the ring. As soon as she did, Whiskey acquiesced with a humble smile.
“Alright, alright, I’ll go. I’m coming back straight afterwards, okay?” Leaning over her sister, Whiskey planted a peck on Espresso’s head and fist-bumped Nia as Ashara walked over to the door. “Coming?” He asked the three-star tuner, who slung her jacket over her shoulder and nodded. “Coming.” The two departed, leaving Nia and Espresso alone in the medical bay.
As the two left the room, it was Nia’s turn to sit down across from her exhausted peer. Listening to Ashara and Whiskey chatting their way down the echoey stairs beneath them, she looked over to Espresso, who was awkwardly staring out of the window.
“So… How are you feeling?” Nia smiled at Espresso, trying to find her gaze.
“Fine, thanks.” Espresso nodded, but didn’t match Nia’s eyes.
“I thought you did great, for what it’s worth. I can tell that you’ve been working hard, your defence was incredible, and I’ve never seen someone react that fast!”
Nia watched her roll her tongue around in her mouth at the comment, before giving a small nod. “Thanks. Not as good as you, though, beating Ashara…”
“Well, it’s not like I ‘beat him’ beat him, I just got the cuffs on him.” Nia gave a small laugh as she relived the exhilaration of the man accepting defeat. Ever since she had first learned to use a Resonance, she had dreamed of those kinds of battles. Looking out of the window and resting her feet on the bottom of the medical bed, she filled the silence. “I figured out pretty early on that I wasn’t going to beat him in a head on confrontation, so I had to think it through, you know? Dusk left his jacket on the ground, so I shot that at Ashara’s face to blind him for a minute, then wrapped the handcuffs around him as he was trying to peel it off.”
Espresso gave another small nod. “Good job, that’s very clever.”
“Thanks! Ashara said so himself! I’ve got to be honest; I was shitting myself when he told me that we were gonna fight, but it was great! He launched onto the colosseum stones, and I even managed to throw him all the way back down to the ground! The other three were really nice too, that guy – is his name Bronkheim? – and Charlotte were cheering me on.”
Espresso stared at the sheets of her bed.
“Anyway, though, it’s great that Ashara wants you to join the Silverwatch! You fought really well.”
“I nearly got my face kicked in.” Espresso deadpanned at Nia; her eyes narrowed in confusion. “I’m surprised Ashara even came to talk to me at all.”
“What do you mean? Your resonance is great! You could do so much with it on the job if you managed to get a lid on the damage it does to your muscles, but those reactions are insane! I remember when I—”
“Nia?” Espresso softly cut in.
“Yeah?”
“I’m tired, can I get some rest for a bit?”
“Oh, sure! I’ll let Whiskey know you’re getting some sleep!” Nia shot up and turned to leave, swinging open the door and jogging down the stairs on the way to the colosseum pit. Drawing closer, she could hear what sounded like bombs going off at the end of the tunnel. Roars of exertion, cheers from the onlookers, a call to halt from Ashara and the clash of steel. Just as she was leaving the tunnel, the battle between Whiskey and Kaiser was already coming to a close.
Steam rose in a veil, released from the newly scorched wood that Whiskey and Kaiser stood upon. Whiskey’s back had long, thin cuts in a cross from the hips to the opposite shoulder-blades. As she dropped her arms to her side, Nia saw similar yet smaller slashes across her forearms. She was bloody, but she remained standing, with a fierce, clenched grin on her face. Nia’s arms widened as she banked left from the tunnel’s entrance, working her way around to the bleachers. For a moment, she wondered if Whiskey was going to lose, but then she saw Kaiser.
The man had thrown off his over shirt, which lay in a smouldering heap behind him, exposing a grey tank-top singed across the pecs. His arms and face were covered in burns, and the smell of burned leather from his scorched combat boots. Nia was baffled that he was still standing, a slight ember burned at the tip of one of his hairs. He clutched a machete in hand, though his grip on it seemed to have waned.
“Giving up?” Whiskey called, shaking as she struggled to stand.
“No.” Kaiser muttered back, taking a slow and woozy step forward.
“Guys, pack it in, that’s enough.” Ashara walked into the middle of the colosseum between them. “I’m calling the fight here; you both need to go to the medical bay.”
“I can still fight.” They spoke in unison. Kaiser spoke plainly, as a matter-of-fact, while Whiskey’s voice bore more excitement, as though she was being asked to leave a party early.
“Don’t care. I’ve seen enough.” Ashara stood his ground, raising a palm to both of them. For a moment, nothing happened, both combatants still stood ready to pounce. Ashara waited to see if either would move, clearing his throat to emphasise his statement. Finally, Kaiser was the first to relent, shrugging and sheathing his sword back within its holster. He strode over to Dusk’s jacket, torn from both the previous fights, and slung it over his back, walking off towards the colosseum entrance. As soon as Whiskey saw him move, she sagged her shoulders and dropped her head before following him. She pulled a flask out from her pocket and unscrewed the cap, drinking from it as she left.
“Man... I missed the fight.” Nia softly kicked the ground beneath her feet. Dusk was following Kaiser, though he gave Nia a polite nod as he passed her by, and the people that had watched from the bench were slowly filtering by. Charlotte stopped and walked over to Nia, quickly taking her hand and shaking it.
“Incredible work, dear, you did such a good job!” Charlotte gently rested a hand on Nia’s shoulder as she spoke. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen anyone work Ashara that hard. Michelle will be delighted.”
“Thanks!” Nia beamed back.
Charlotte shone with a dazzling smile, worth the moon and stars, it was dazzling to be that close to it. “Myself, Bronkheim and Coco are going to go to Murphy’s, would you like to come and join us?”
Nia flicked her eyes over to the girl with the wood-stock rifle, this must be Coco. It was nice to attach a name to her face; the two women smiled at each other for a moment before Nia took a sharp breath in. “Yeah, that sounds great! I need to go chat to Ashara quickly, but I’ll meet you there?”
Charlotte nodded politely. “Of course, we’ll save you a seat.” Bronkheim and Coco gave friendly waves from behind her as she turned and nodded to the door. “Come on your two, let’s give the girl her space.” Sweeping her hands towards them, she shepherded them into the darkness of the tunnel, leaving Nia alone with Ashara.
Nia strode over to Ashara, who had since sat on the bleachers and started checking through the items in his jacket and bag, muttering a list to himself as he went. Nia stopped short of him.
“Sir, I—”
“Ashara.” He corrected her immediately.
“Sorry, Ashara, can I ask what happens now? I’m out of the loop on how things proceed from here.” Before he had left, Sil and Nia had gone through the numerous exams that she would have to take preceding this combat test. Physics exams relating to her Resonance, which she had just scraped by. Legal exams, practical tests in public service, an extensive course on first aid. At times it had felt like there was no end to them. For months, her focus had been on getting here and impressing the right people, but now that things were wrapping up, she was drawing blanks on what she was meant to do.
“Well, the normal procedure is to give people a few days to rest, then we bring them in for an interview as a final assessment. Espresso and Kaiser are going to be brought in like that. In your case, I think I’ve seen all that I needed to see. Do you still want to join?” Ashara was focusing mostly on his belongings. He had fished his notebook out of his bag and was writing in it as he spoke.
“More than anything.” Nia blurted out her response.
“Good. You’re staying at Sil’s place, right?”
“Yes.” Nia nodded.
“Then the paperwork will get mailed there. A bunch of stuff for you to sign, basically. We give out the first-star badges in a little celebration at the observatory on the weekend, so you can take a few days to rest and enjoy being off-call before you come grab it.”
“This all feels so sudden.” There was a dizzying excitement swirling in Nia’s chest. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but the prospect of becoming a first-star tuner by the end of the week amazed her. Five years of practice and training coming to a head. It was hard to keep her heart still.
“Look, Nia, best bit of advice I can give? Go have some ice cream or a dessert. Celebrate, have fun, you can think about this stuff tomorrow, okay?” As Ashara snapped his notebook shut and slung his bag over his shoulder. “You’ve spent years working for this. Once you start, you don’t get much time to be normal. Trust me, you want to make the most of this.”
As Ashara finished packing up and started to leave the colosseum, Nia followed him. Alone together again, the broiling need to ask her questions made itself known once more. “Ashara?”
“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you, kid?” Ashara chuckled, before nodding. “What’s up?”
“Can you tell me about the mission that Sil got sent on?”
Ashara winced as though he had been punched in the gut, stopping dead in his tracks. Putting a hand on Nia’s shoulder, he turned her to face him.
“No, I can’t. But I can tell you this. You’re joining at the perfect time. We need fresh faces like you, people who we can help surpass us. Sil sees it the same way, that’s what’s keeping him out there for so long.”
A look of confusion fell over Nia’s face as she tilted her head. “Why so suddenly? What’s coming?”
Half way into the shadowy tunnel that yawned at the entrance to the colosseum, Ashara’s face fell into a grave but steady stare. There was not an ounce of the sarcastic, confident tuner in his voice as he spoke. His voice came out like a soldier, a man who had seen the loss of hundreds of lives, and snuffed out more.
“War.”
