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The hum of excited chatter buzzed in my ears as I awoke, the aroma of fresh bread tickling my nostrils.
The Prize Pool was in a state of flustered excitement.
This wasn’t the usual gossipy hum that resonated through the Prize Pool on any given day; it was different, charged with an electric energy.
I straightened my simple tunic and ran my fingers through my unruly hair, hoping to bring some semblance of order to the golden strands.
The light that usually bathed the Prize Pool in a soft, diffused glow seemed harsher today, more intrusive, casting shadows that flickered and danced.
Moving closer to the viewing window, I saw a group of Prizes huddled together, their gazes fixed intently on the fighting pits.
Their conversations, a melodic blend of languages, were punctuated with words like “fighter” and “new Champion.”
“Excuse me,” I ventured, tapping the shoulder of a female with shimmering azure scales and six bright eyes. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
She glanced at me, her multifaceted eyes shimmering with intrigue. “You haven’t seen it yet? There’s a new fighter in the pits, and he’s unlike anyone we’ve ever seen before.”
I peered into the pits, the clamor of metal on metal, and the guttural roars filling my ears.
Yet, amidst this symphony of chaos, I couldn’t spot the mysterious new fighter.
“He hasn’t even swung his sword yet!” she continued, her voice rising in astonishment. “Every opponent that faces him…they just seem to… give up!”
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
In the many days since my abduction to the Prize Pool, I had seen numerous battles — brutal confrontations that left no room for mercy.
How was it possible for a fighter to win without even engaging?
Before I could ponder this mystery further, a new fight was announced.
The crowd’s roar intensified, the excitement palpable, as the gates opened to admit the combatants.
On one side, a hulking beast of an opponent, every inch of his body a testament to battles hard-fought and won.
On the other side, a rather unassuming figure, his demeanor calm and composed.
The countdown ended and the battle horn was sounded.
The huge hulking beast drew his massie ax and ran at his opponent.
I watched, heart in my mouth, as the new fighter, instead of drawing his weapon, pulled out a small object from his jacket pocket.
Whatever it was, it had an immediate effect.
The colossal opponent, who seconds ago looked ready to decimate anything in his path, suddenly dropped his weapon, his face contorted in fear.
Without a second thought, he sprinted to the exit and clung to the iron bars, leaving the crowd and his adversary in stunned silence.
Whispers surged through the spectators like a tidal wave, each trying to fathom what had just occurred.
The murmurs reached a fever pitch as the announcer’s voice boomed, declaring the mysterious fighter the Champion.
The Prize Pool door groaned open.
The mysterious new victor would soon be coming up the steps to present himself before the Prize Pool and claim one of us.
