Book Two – Chapter Eleven – Part One – Tournament!
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“This is it!” Dineria announced in a cheerful, almost singsong-like voice. Dressed in a shirt and skirt made of brown bark, she turned around and raised her hands up high. “Are you all excited?!” 

She seems to be in a good mood. Itarr observed. Servi only nodded.  

“I am!" Momo mimicked her mentor, raising her slender arms to the skies above. She was getting sucked into the positive vibe that was spreading about. Her damaged chainmail and sleeveless leather armor were her attire of choice for the tournament.  She thought about repairing it, but it wouldn't have been completed in time, and buying a new set was out of the question. Her pink ears twitched as a nice summer breeze flew by, bringing with it the pleasant smell of flowers.

“Me too!” Srassa, who wore a set of chainmail underneath her newly bought leather armor, joined in on the fun. A spotless, silver blade was attached to her hip along with a single pouch. She ended up coming to Warden the day before and asked Momo and Servi to help her pick out some new gear. 

“I know I have a set, but I want to buy armor with my own money. That way, it’ll truly be mine. And I want to buy a sword, too. Can you help me choose?” she had asked them, and they were more than happy to help.  

Fisher turned around and spoke to his former students, and while Servi did keep an ear open, she was more focused on the building in front of her.  

It was a warehouse, clearly, but it didn’t look like one. A massive wooden sign ran along the top that said ‘Arena’ in giant letters. Six double doors went alongside the front that Servi could see, and each one had a booth near it.  

For only 50 dupla, get an all-day pass! For only 20 dupla, get a ticket to the finals, which will be held tonight!  Itarr read aloud the signs next to each booth. There was a seventh one on the far right side that said ‘competitors and mentors only.’ 

“And that’s what I know. We’re supposed to enter from that door there. Are you all ready?” Fisher adjusted his gauntlets and took off his helmet as he looked around. While he didn't have to wear the black justice armor because he wasn't on official business as Captain of the Guard, he chose to suit up in it anyway. When the group journeyed from their meet-up location to the arena, nearly all eyes were glued to the scratched word displayed on Fisher's breastplate. However, he ignored such glances because they didn't concern him at all. A quick chant later, he tossed his helmet in his Dimensional Storage. 

After getting a series of nods, Claire spoke up. “Since I’m not a mentor or a competitor, I have to go in here. But I’ll be cheering for you all!” the day before, she went to Levadia Woods after her shift at Warden ended and nocked a few arrows with Dineria. Somehow, that rekindled the Elven spirit inside of her, and her outfit certainly reflected that. 

It was a white long-sleeved dress that came to above her knees. The collar and bottom were accented by vivid green leaves. A very small cloak, made of leaves and attached to by a button, covered a small part of her back. A clean and thin piece of bark swirled around the dress, making a cute spiral design that brought the whole outfit together. In addition, she had on green stockings that went all the way up her smooth legs. An adorable pair of heeled shoes, made from a block of light brown wood she bought from Dineria’s store, protected her feet from the hot asphalt. It took her all night to carve it since her body had to gradually remember how to do it, but Claire was happy with the result.   

It’s been a while since I’ve done anything ‘Elfy.’ Wait, is that even a word? Claire thought.  

“We’ll go with you," Marissa said. She wore a simple red sundress and gladiator sandals. Mari, holding her mother’s right hand, had on a yellow sundress with a straw hat. Meri, holding the left hand, wore a simple yellow shirt and a black skirt, and both were wearing white sandals.  

“Daddy, me and Mari are gonna cheer real loud, okay?” 

Fisher crouched down and put his hand to Meri’s head. “They’ll be counting on you two. So do a good job, yeah?” 

“Yeah! We will!” Meri cheerfully responded with a splendid smile as she put a hand to her father's head. Her little hands rubbed his brown hair.

“And listen to your mother, okay?” Fisher turned his head and stared at his other daughter with his brown eyes.

“Okay!!” Mari said.

Marissa turned to the group of mentees and gave them a motherly smile. “I’ll be cheering for each and every one of you, so go out there and do your best!” 

After thanking her, Marissa, her two daughters, and Claire walked over to a booth to purchase a ticket. More accurately, they walked over and stood in the shortest line, which was long. Even though tickets were somewhat expensive, Servi was surprised to see how many people actually came.

“You know, I didn’t think there would be a lot of people. Guess I was wrong,” she said as she adjusted her shield. Her sword sat slotted into its sheath. She had to lie and say she bought a replacement one at the equipment store, but she took one from her ring when nobody was looking.  

“This is Canary’s first-ever fighting tournament, so naturally, there’ll be some buzz. But if it’s a hit, then I imagine the Governor will do these more often,” Fisher replied. He pointed over towards the competitor entrance and started to walk. His group, and Dineria and her group, followed along.  

“Fisher, do you have any information on the Kobold tournament?” 

“Sorry, Feral, but I don’t. I’m sure they’ll give us all of that info once we get inside.” 

Feral lightly growled in response.

A few minutes later, after standing in yet another line, they finally had shelter from the evil, hot sun. But that wasn’t to say that the inside of the warehouse was any better.  

It wasn’t.  

Fluorescent Lights hung up above, illuminating the place as Servi took a good look. The room they were in was big and square. That was the best way to describe it. The walls were hard and grey, made out of concrete, while the floors were wooden. Other than Feral, Servi could spot seven Kobolds. Only one of which was taller than her friend.  

Against the far wall stood two sets of double doors. In the space between them sat three desks, each with a sign above it.  

“Competitor name A – G. Competitor name H – P. Competitor name Q – Z,” Dineria read. “Okay! Stand in line based on your name. You should get a badge with a number on it. Once you do, walk back over to us. We’ll be right there.” Dineria pointed to a wall on the left side of the room and walked over there with Fisher.  

I guess it’s time to get this badge. Wait, I thought Fisher and Dineria said they didn’t get any knowledge of the tournament? Itarr asked.

Servi nodded. When she broke from the group to get into her line, she spoke quietly. “I did too. But maybe getting a badge is a standard affair. I’m sure Dineria has been in many tournaments, so maybe the format is the same? That’s the only thing I can think of.” 

Maybe.  

Around five minutes later, Servi was at the desk. The woman, who wore a fancy white buttoned-down shirt and black dress pants, smiled at Servi. “May I have your ID? I need to confirm your identity.” 

“Sure. Here you go,” replied the girl with red eyes, summoning a red stone tablet.

“Thank you. So, Servi, yes? Hmm…. Ah, here you are. Let me mark you present and get you your group number... Ah, your group number is 1. In case you don’t know, this badge number tells you what group you’re in. It's pretty much self-explanatory, but some people don't realize it. Any questions?” the woman gracefully reached through a stack of wooden badges that had the numbers 1 – 4. Picking up one with a 1 written on it, she handed it to Servi, who pocketed it in her pouch.  

“What are groups?” she asked, puzzled.  

“There are 32 people to a group, and 4 groups in total for 128 people. Each group will fight in a double-elimination bracket until the top 8 are left. Once that is done, there will be 32 people left. They will fight in a single-elimination bracket until only one is standing, and that one will be the winner. Does that make sense?” 

“It does. Thank you,” Servi smiled at the girl and made her way over to Fisher and Dineria. She reached into her pouch and took out the badge.  

“Seems like I’m the first one back,” Servi handed her badge to Fisher.

“So they’re doing a group stage first? Makes sense considering how many people are entered,” he handed it back. “How many groups?” 

“Four. And 32 to a group.” 

“It's just like the carving tournament...” Dineria placed a hand on her chin while her mind was transported to the past.  Her absentminded stare prompted a puzzled look from both Fisher and Servi.  

“Back in my village of Poun, there was a carving tournament that once lasted a week. Using only a small knife, we had to carve a wooden block into an object that fit the theme for that match. 128 people entered, and a single carve could take an hour or more.” 

“Did you win?” Momo asked, who overheard as she walked back. She was in group 2.  

Dineria shook her head. “I came in 75th. Honestly, I’m not very good at carving. But Claire is. She carved those shoes she's wearing.” 

“Really?” 

“Yep! She asked for a wooden block yesterday when she came to see me, but I didn’t know what it was for. Now I know. Hmm… Maybe I should see if she can carve me a pair?” 

Maybe I should ask too? I mean, they’re so cute, and I’ll definitely pay. Yeah, I’ll ask her. If I can remember, that is. Come on, Momo! You can’t let your mind be distracted! Tournament! Tournament! Tournament! Focus on what matters! 

Servi, Momo, and their mentors talked for a few more minutes as the rest of their group came back from getting their badge and signing in. Srassa was in group 2 with Momo. Silverado, Desperado, and Riki were in group 3, and Rakkire was the lone one in group 4. Feral, being one of the few Kobolds, did not get a badge. He also found out that the Kobold tournament will be held after the four group stages, so he had a while to wait before he could prove himself. He relayed that info to his friends and mentor.  

“I guess you're by yourself, Servi,” Feral growled.

“I guess I am."

Arty, who spotted them from a distance, walked over. He had a brand new spear in his hand.  

He held it with both hands and pointed it directly at Servi, causing both Fisher and Dineria to grab it. They forced it down until the pristine tip pierced the wooden floor. They reacted even faster than Servi thought they would. Of course, she saw it would be raised the moment he walked over. She activated Soul Essence of Primal Combat out of habit when she entered the building.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Dineria exasperated in a voice full of shock. “Why would you draw your weapon on a fellow competitor?! We're not even inside the ring!!” 

“You better have a damn good reason for pointing your weapon at my student," Fisher had a bit of an edge in his voice that reminded him of his past.

“She and that damn pet cat killed my friend! And she broke my weapon!” Arty argued. He still had on the same set of slightly oversized armor, and his green eyes showed no hint of fear.  

Servi went to respond, but Momo beat her to it. “I’m not a pet cat! My name is Momo, and I’m a Singi! And we didn’t kill your friend! He attacked me after we saved him, and Servi was only defending me! We left him alive! And as for your weapon, you agreed to a duel with Servi, and you lost! Not to mention that you were aiming to kill her.  It’s only natural she broke your spear!” Momo raised her voice with every other word until she shouted at the top of her lungs. The large room went deathly silent as Momo stared Arty down. Her tail puffed up out of anger and whipped back and forth very quickly.   

“Momo?” Srassa's voice came out like a mouse's squeak. The weapon being pulled on her friend was upsetting, but that was the first time she ever heard Momo raised her voice like that. Even though she trained for a month, Srassa couldn't do anything but watch, frozen in place like a statue.

Silverado and the others didn’t move to react, but they were cautiously approaching the situation in their mind. Feral had his giant shield in his hand, and he was half-tempted to smash the foolish Human in front of him. With his mighty strength, it would be child's play to bend and fold that spear until it was useful as a toothpick. But he didn't.  He held back and watched with careful eyes. 

I’m so proud of Momo, Servi. The girl she is now compared to the day we met is almost non-existent. She’s strong, isn’t she?  

Servi could only nod and smile at her best friend.

“Easy, Momo,” Dineria removed her hand from the spear and placed it on Momo's head.  Like a mother, her long fingers waved in and out of a sea of pink hair. “You can continue this in the tournament, okay?” even as she shook with a seething rage, Momo nodded.

The Elven mentor turned to look at Arty. “What group number?” she asked him.  

He reached into his grey pouch and held out a badge that had the number 1.  

“Servi? Are you up for a rematch?” Dineria asked. She affectionately rubbed Momo's head for the last time, then removed her hand.  The Singi was still upset, but her rage quickly extinguished itself when she realized there was no possible way for her best friend to lose to someone like Arty.

“I am. And don’t think I’ve gotten weaker. It’s the opposite.” Servi held up her badge, and Arty grinned.  

“Neither have I!” he responded, still unable to even move his spear. Fisher’s grip was almost unnatural, but it couldn’t dent the metal spear.  He locked eyes with Servi for a moment as if trying to convey a message. Don’t kill him.

Servi nodded. Don’t worry, I won’t.  

Of course, the two didn’t communicate with their minds, but based on the newfound relationship the two had and their mutual past, Fisher and Servi instantly knew what the other was trying to convey.

Fisher let go of the spear, and Arty backed away after doing a small performance with his weapon. It was shiny and metal, with a gleaming silver tip. “You won’t break this one, and I will win this time. I promise you that!” he turned away and walked over to a smug-looking Elf who had metal bracelets on each one of his arms. He had short black hair and wore a stylish outfit, similar to what a noble would wear when going out to dinner.

“Do you know him?” Servi asked Dineria.

“Yep. That’s Luka. He’s Rank 4, and nobody in his Rank can match his spear technique. At least not here in Canary. He used to visit Levadia Woods a lot, and he always asked me out on dates, but I never said yes.”

“I see,” Fisher placed a hand to his chin. “I guess we head on in,” he nodded at Dineria, and she nodded back, and they all went through the leftmost set of double doors. That led to another hallway that they walked down.  

As they did, Servi spoke quietly to her best friend. “You were so cool back there. Thanks for defending me.” 

Momo smiled at Servi. “Anytime! I won’t let anyone insult my best friend, and I did tell you I’ve gotten stronger. I’m not the same scared Singi I was when we met!” she made a fist and carefully touched her grandpa’s bag.  

Grandpa, I wish you were here to see me. I’m nervous, but I’m hiding it well. This morning, I thought this nervousness was a sign I was still weak, but now I don’t think it is. I think it’s a sign that yes, I still have room to grow, but in no way does it mean I’m weak 

“What was that all about?” Rakkire asked.

Servi sighed and began to tell them a story. She cut out some of it and only left in the relevant bits.  

“Aye, I don’t think it’s your fault. You were only defending yourselves,” Riki said. Silverado and Desperado agreed, so did Feral, Srassa, and Rakkire.

Momo took a deep breath and thanked her friends.

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