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I closed my eyes momentarily, allowing the sensations to wash over me.
The soft hum of the artificial atmosphere tingled against my skin, the murmurs of the crowd creating a distant, almost melodic backdrop.
The metallic tang in the air, which usually felt oppressive, was lighter, almost fragrant.
Today, the battles were different.
Gone was the brutal ferocity and desperation that was typical of these contests.
Instead, the fighters moved with a rare nonchalance, their usual fervor replaced with something approaching camaraderie.
It was odd, like watching a dance instead of a duel.
I could hear Ashale’s distinct grunts and shouts, even from this distance.
But there was an absence of strain or pain in them.
They sounded almost playful.
Curiosity piqued, I peered down into the fighting pit.
Ashale was facing off against an opponent who resembled a massive, walking tree with arms that seemed to stretch endlessly.
Yet, they moved in harmony, their combat more synchronized than adversarial.
The soft, smooth floor of the Prize Pool felt cool against my bare feet.
I didn’t bother ascending my platform today.
It felt unnecessary.
And from the corner of my eye, I could see the other Prizes thinking similarly, many of them already descending their own platforms, conversations sparking among them.
A triumphant cheer from the crowd signaled the end of the round, and Ashale emerged as the victor.
But there was no gloating, no aggressive posturing.
Instead, he offered a hand to his fallen opponent, pulling him to his feet.
They exchanged a few words and a mutual nod, and Ashale began making his way towards the exit.
Excitement bubbled within me.
I felt like a giddy teenager as I waited for him at the base of the stairs leading up from the arena.
Every sense seemed heightened in that moment.
The sound of his approach, the slightly musky spice that always accompanied him after a fight, and the rush of the air as he moved closer.
As Ashale neared, I barely gave him a moment to catch his breath.
Throwing my arms around him, I pressed my lips to his rough cheek, feeling the familiar scratch of his stubble.
His surprise was evident, but it was quickly replaced by a deep, rumbling chuckle.
“What was that for?” he asked, his deep voice vibrating through me, making my fingertips tingle where they touched him.
“For being you,” I whispered. “And for today. Today felt… different.”
