Chapter One Hundred and Eight - Buff Bun

“You were wonderful!” were Awen’s first words as I made it to the top of the stairs leading into the box where my friends were waiting. I hadn’t been allowed to see the other fights because that would’ve been cheating, but as soon as they were over I was let loose to go see my buddies.

I braced myself a moment before Awen rushed up to me, expecting her to glomp me off my feet, but she paused a step before me, then wrapped me into a big happy hug. I laughed into her shoulder. “Thanks!” I said.

“Oh, the way you beat up that big mean guy, and the way you dissected that Whisper person. I think I saw him crying when he ran off the stage. It was...” Awen flushes. “It was wonderful to see you dominating people like that.”

I grinned even harder. “It wasn’t as fun as it probably looked, but thanks. I’m sure you would have done well. We could train together so that we’re both good at, uh, dominating people.”

“Awa.”

I squeezed Awen back, then stepped to the side to grin at Amaryllis and Booksie. “Heya!”

“Here,” Amaryllis said as she handed me a notebook. I stared at it for a moment before taking the leatherbound book and flipping it open. There were names and lists on it. “Those are all of the remaining competitors in your bracket. You’re down to just six possible competitors. Of those, there are three that you would have a difficult time facing.”

I flipped the page over, skimmed a description of some woman that used a whip to fight, then handed the notebook back. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one that knows the competition. But thanks for doing this for me, it’s awfully nice of you!”

Amaryllis huffed and refused to take the notes back. “Most of the competitors have spent some time together, it’s a sure thing that they’ve studied each others’ tactics and fighting styles and skills.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know mine, so it’s fair.”

Amaryllis pouted for just a moment before her self-control took over and she snapped the book from out of my hand. She must have been distracted because she didn’t see my thank-you hug coming.

“You’re still the best,” I said. “And you made that for me, so it’s extra cool.”

“I made it so that you’d win and earn us more money.”

“Of course you did,” I said.

“Don’t take that tone with me!” she said before poking at my tummy with the back of her talons. I broke off the hug with a giggle.

“Ah, hey Booksie!”

“Hello,” Booksie said. “Do I get a hug too?”

There was only one correct response to that. It was weird hugging someone with big ears on their head like mine. It tickled a bunch when our ears wrapped around each other.

“Okay!” I said. “So, what’s next?”

Amaryllis shook her head. “Next we sit down and enjoy the intermission. The bouts only resume in an hour or so. I’ve been meaning to see the puppet show.”

“Are puppet shows a big thing where you’re from?” I asked.

Amaryllis made a so-so gesture. “They’re not as common as actual theater pieces, but my family hired puppeteers for our yearly winter festival from a local troupe. I always enjoyed them more than actors in rubbish costumes arguing on a stage.”

“So, did you always secretly want to be one off those puppeteers?” I asked.

“What? No, this class is merely extremely convenient,” she said.

“You didn’t dream of joining the puppeteer troupe and running off for a life of adventure and fun with them?”

Amaryllis looked away. “No. That's a ridiculous idea.”

We moved up to the front of the box and sat down on what had to be the best seats in the box. No one else seemed to make a fuss, some even pointed at me and I waved back at them.

“You’re going to gain something of a following if you continue,” Amaryllis said.

“A following?” I asked.

She nodded, and so did Booksie on her other side. “Oh yes. People attach themselves to all sorts of silly things, most especially those that entertain them, and your pathetic flailing on-stage was nothing if not entertaining. Of all the people in your bracket, you’re the one that looks like she put the least effort into her fights, and you’ve won every one so far.”

I tapped at my chin. “Well, that’s obviously a bit wrong. The fights are very strange, but I wouldn’t call them easy by any stretch.”

Amaryllis shrugged. “I’m telling you what it looked like from up here.”

“You looked really impressive,” Awen said. “I, ah, was on the edge of my seat the entire time you were down there.”

I plopped myself down, Awen on the one side, Amaryllis on the other with Booksie next to her. “Thanks. So, um... should we eat while we watch the show?”

There was music being played by three people, a lutist, a fiddler and someone with a big stand-up bass, all of them hovering in the air on platforms just like Zac’s. They were keeping people entertained with a folksy little beat--the fiddler was quite good, if a little frantic--while a group of workers hurried to change the stage below, covering it in wooden planks and mounting a gantry-like thing above it.

Amaryllis waved one of the people selling snacks over, and soon we all had popcorn and mystery meat--Booksie and I skipped that one--and different sorts of little cakes and cookies and one boy was selling fist-sized burritos filled with beans and tomatoes.

Silver changed hands and Amaryllis bought enough food for a dozen people; the moment she started flashing money more sellers slid closer. Then, when we were running out of place to put it all, she shooed them off with a beat of her wings.

I was halfway through a chocolatey pastry when the show below started.

The gantries over the stage had been placed to allow for a complex array of thin wires to be placed that held up a dozen puppets, and also bits of scenery like little walls and cut-outs of bushes and trees that the puppeteers could pull up at a moment’s notice.

An older gentleman with a deep voice sat in a lotus position atop a platform and came to a halt above the stage. He cleared his throat, then began to narrate a story in a deep baritone that carried across the stadium.

The play was cute. Something like A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but with more strange characters. I guessed that having magic in a story lost some of its lustre when real magic was a thing. “Are fairies real?” I whispered over to Amaryllis.

“They’re a myth,” she said right back. Her eyes were locked onto the scene below.

I stayed quiet for the rest of the show, Amaryllis seemed to be loving it so I didn’t wanna interrupt her fun.

As the play went on and we finished up, I started to get a little thirsty. My backpack was still tucked under the bench, so I pulled it out and started fixing myself a cup of tea, one ear opened to the play.

It wasn’t boring, not really. There was a lot of skill on display from the puppeteers, and the voice actors were really good. But plays weren’t my thing, and I had maybe been a little spoiled with good media back home.

I gestured at Booksie and Awen with my kettle, then at their nods poured three cups.

Congratulations! Through repeated actions your Tea Making skill has improved and is now eligible for rank up!
Rank E is a free rank!

I grinned. Finally!

Tea Making
Rank E -00%
The Ability to make tea. Your Tea now assists the drinker.

I handed the girls their cups while wondering about that last line. How could tea help? Other than the normal ways, of course.

An insight on my cup helped a bit.

A cup of black tea brewed by an amateur. Increases alertness and wakefulness.

“Huh,” I said. I downed my cup and reached for my bag again. A bit more boiling water, this time without adding anything to the kettle itself and I was making a second cup of tea, this time with some dried dandelion flowers.

A cup of dandelion tea brewed by an amateur. Cures minor bladder issues and reduces swelling.

I shrugged and downed the cup.

The next plant I tried was milk thistle. The pretty pink flowers had gone a little stale in my pack, but they were still good for tea.

A cup of milk thistle tea brewed by an amateur. Assists the liver. Helps process lesser poisons.

That was useful! So far the buffs I’d gotten from the teas I had on hand weren’t all that impressive, but I was sure that could change with the right tea. I finished off the last of my cup and then cleaned everything off with a pinch of magic before sorting it all away.

I jumped in my seat as the show below ended and people clapped while the actors and puppet masters bowed. Amaryllis climbed to her feet and started beating her wings against her sides in some sort of weird parody of the chicken dance. Was she... clapping?

I joined in a moment later. “You really enjoyed that,” I said.

“It was brilliant,” Amaryllis declared. “The play was a little stale. An old story with nothing new to it, but the motion and skill those puppeteers displayed. They truly know their craft. I want to meet them.”

“Sure!” I said. “We can go do that right now, if you want.” I scratched my head just under the rim of my hat. “I need to, ah, stop by an apothecary, if one is open.”

“What for?” Amaryllis asked.

“Just need some herbs,” I said.

She cocked her head to the side. “I thought you were against cheating.”

I shook my head. “No no, my Tea Making skill, it ranked up. I can now buff myself with tea. And I don’t need to stop there now. We could go tomorrow?”

“I hardly think you need more musculature, as much as Awen would probably appreciate it.”

“Huh? No, buff means... uh.”

Amaryllis rolled her eyes. “I know what buffing is. C’mon, puppeteers first. There’s only so long left to the intermission. We can worry about your obsession with leafy water some other time.”

“Cool!” I said. I grabbed Awen and Booksie and helped them to their feet. “Let’s go!

“Miss Bunch?”

I turned to find one of the clipboard people standing in the row between benches. He looked quite studious with his board held up before him.

“Yup, that’s me,” I said.

“The next match begins in half an hour. We’re gathering all the champions now. Could you follow me back to the waiting rooms?” he asked.

“Aww, darn,” I said. “I’m going to say goodbye to my friends first, alright?”

“Of course,” he said before stepping back.

I turned and yoinked Booksie into a big hug. “I’ll see you in a bit!” I said.

Then it was Amaryllis’ turn. I think I had trained her well because she didn’t protest against the cuddling at all. It was nice, especially since her feathers felt funny. “Do try not to make a fool of yourself,” she said.

“I’ll try!” I said. “Er-- not to, that is.”

She snorted and shook her head. “Moron.”

Then it was Awen’s turn for another hug. “See you in a bit!” I said.

“Awa, I’ll, I’ll be cheering you on, Broccoli.”

“Ah, my number one fan, huh?” I said.

“Yes. Yes definitely,” was her quick reply. “Beat the, um, stuffing out of them. But don’t get hurt.”

I grinned and pulled back. “Okay! I’ll see you all once I’m done!”

And with that, my little intermission ended.