Episode 4 - Master Ko

Two weeks later…

My‑re stood at the edge of the beach near the city of Talahya, where the Lord Protectors fought in the arena games every two weeks. She’d arrived the previous day; sleep had evaded her much of that night. The sun rose, its rays pushing against the darkness, revealing the landscape. The water near the shore shimmered and was transparent to the lake’s bottom. Further out, it turned a darker cerulean blue. White and grey rocks and larger boulders with speckled dots relaxed comfortably for countless ages along the landscape. The clouds sat resting in the sky and seemed to enjoy the beginning of the new day. She breathed in the fresh water’s air as the waves rhythmically lapped the shore. She'd enjoy the beautiful site if her stomach weren’t already afloat with butterflies.

“Morning, young lady. Coffee?” Corg asked, approaching as his boots crunched on the rather rocky beach. He held a mug with steaming liquid.

“Do you have anything stronger?” My‑re asked.

“It’s morning time?”

“…and a piece of toast.”

Snorting in amusement, Corg replied, “I was nervous about my first fight on the Isle of the Eye too. It'll go away once you are in the thick of things.”

“I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself,” My‑re murmured.

“Doing what? You’re a Lord Protector now. A guardian of Alastari,” Corg said with a congratulatory tone as he bowed slightly. “This is part of your advanced training on the Isle of the Eye. If you don’t want to place yourself into gladiator matches, you don’t have to.”

“I’m not nervous about the match. I’ve trained enough. I desire it. I asked for it. I’ve been in battle before. The adrenaline rush is almost indescribable. It’s exciting. The feel of your heart hammering in your chest, the blood coursing through your veins, your body becomes truly alive. Now, I’m starting to master the feeling. Embrace it. Crave it. I choose to enter into the arena, even though a person is trying to do me bodily harm,” My‑re said, placing her hands on her stomach.

“Well, they do use blunted weapons, so bodily harm is kept to a minimum. You are training, after all,” Corg said.

“Yes, but why do I do it?” My‑re asked. “I hate the control it has over me. It’s my weakness and least redeeming trait.”

“Your least redeeming trait? Kid, it’s the most redeeming trait you have and what I admire the most about you,” Corg replied.

“Why is that?” My‑re asked, snorting under her breath, not believing him.

“You aspire to be a better version of yourself today than you were yesterday,” Corg explained.

Several heartbeats of silence followed. Corg then continued, “I almost forgot why I came down here. I was able to find out your opponent for this morning.”

My‑re glanced back and raised her eyebrow at her trainer as she took the coffee from his hands. It warmed them in the cool air. She took a sip. The roasted beans had a well-balanced acidity, bitterness, sweetness, and mouthfeel combined with a dreamy aroma.

“He uses the fighting style of an Aimed Blow.”

“Aimed Blow? What kind of fighting style is that?” My‑re asked.

“It’s a finesse style. Its intent is to strike repeatedly and with precision at the foe’s least protected area. I've seen good Aimed Blows carve their initials into an opponent's chest. While they are not overly active fighters, I've seen them stand motionless, letting the initiative slip away, but I still consider them an offensive and not a defensive style. So, be warned. They can mimic other styles and use your chosen style's weaknesses against you. An Aimed Blow specialist using the lunge tactic will fight much like a Lunger, while using the bash tactic will make him act much like a Basher. He goes by the name of Master Ko.”

“Master Ko? What weapons does he use? Quarterstaff, long sword, short sword?”

“He doesn’t use weapons. Bare hands.”

“Really?” My‑re inquired in disbelief. Excitement began to build in her stomach. “No weapons? That’s not very smart.”

“Or he’s pretty confident of his abilities. He’s won the past eighteen of his twenty fights before receiving his invite to the Isle of the Eye. He comes from Lirith Kai, also known as the Swordsman Empire.”

“A bit ironic that he doesn’t use a sword,” My‑re said, taking another sip of coffee. “Never heard much about Lirith Kai.”

“It’s a large, ancient kingdom located southwest of Alastari. It’s known for the excellence of its warriors and the elaborate code of honor and duty those warriors are bound to.”

“Sounds like a good first match,” My‑re said more confidently.

“Great, that’s the spirit, kid. It should be a fair match, so let’s show this upstart from Lirith Kai, the stuff of Alastarian warriors.”

Leaving the shore and after about a fifteen-minute walk, they heard the soft, soothing bells of Talahya waking the city. The two soon found themselves walking through the cobblestone streets of Talahya’s stronghold. Sand-colored, round, rectangular fortifications rose on either side of the street, forming a long choke point of death if an army foolishly attempted to invade it. The high walls on both sides made it a little claustrophobic. Apartment buildings of the same brick material attached themselves and added to the height of the defenses.

Voices from the markets echoed from up ahead. Then, the smell of cooking and baked goods filled the air. Rounding the corner, they saw an active market filled with customers exchanging coins for goods. Large fruit-filled muffins were stacked on a cart, and their aroma charmed My‑re.

“I’ll be right back,” My‑re said, leaving Corg. She stood behind a couple of customers. Peeking around them, she saw the blueberry, cinnamon, poppy seed, lemon, and apple-filled muffins. They battled for her attention and her mouth watered uncontrollably at the mixture of scents. She noticed a partial black circle emblem on the side of the cart. It started at the bottom with a large ink blot, then circled to the left about three-fourths around and stopped but didn’t completely connect.

Corg came from behind and said, pointing his chin to the emblem, “It’s overpriced. You don’t want to buy from here. The Dark Circle licenses everything here outside the arena.”

“Dark circle? What’s that?” My‑re asked. “Are the muffins bad?”

“No, the muffins are fine.”

My‑re shrugged in indifference at him.

“The Delarquan Circle, more commonly known as ‘The Dark Circle’ by the emblem. They supply the Isle of the Eye with goods and guards and keep the peace. And they cater to warriors’ nightlife activities. Charge for it too,” Corg snorted as he touched his money pouch. “They run just about all commerce.”

Looking around the square, My-re spotted two guards in chainmail and halberds passing. They wore white cloaks with the same Dark Circle emblem on their backs.

The customers ahead of My‑re left. They were now in front of the businessman.

“What’ll it be, young lady?” the merchant said with a smile.

My‑re looked at Corg as they stood exposed, and the merchant made eye contact. She couldn’t leave now without embarrassment. The heat of awkwardness rose to her face. “One blueberry muffin.”

A woman behind the merchant took one from a hot tin, cut it in two, and placed a cube of butter in the middle. It started to melt and was slowly absorbed into the pastry. “Ten copper pieces.”

After exchanging the coins and muffin and pleasantries, My‑re took a bite, and the pastry melted in her mouth. The blueberries had a pleasing pop as she bit into them. “It’s good.” She continued eating, following Corg toward a massive gladiatorial arena she had seen in prior walks in the city.

Gigantic, the Talahya arena reached four stories tall at its highest point and was constructed from sand-colored stone blocks. Support pillars, like mighty bones, traveled the length, while additional ones were evenly placed on the floors between the bottom rows. Awnings, out of place, except on the masts of a ship’s sails, circled the top. Ropes and an elaborate pulley system could easily extend or draw them back depending on the pleasantry of the weather. The elliptical structure displayed, if anything, strength.

Spectators were already entering, and a smaller marketplace was held within.

Seeing another pastry cart, My‑re said hurriedly, “I’m going to get another muffin before there’s a line.” Rushing up and selecting a cinnamon muffin, My‑re dropped ten copper pieces on the counter.

The woman merchant pushed three coins back and said, “M’lady, it’s only seven copper pieces.”

My‑re nodded in appreciation as she took the coins back. Leaving, she noticed the Dark Circle emblem missing from the cart.

“This way! We need to get you suited up!” Corg shouted and motioned for her to follow.

Traveling down a set of stairs, they sped through a corridor with rooms off to either side. Peering in, My‑re saw male and female gladiators in various states of dress, moving with purpose, passing by without any heed of modesty.

“Everything’s just flapping in the breeze,” My‑re stared in disbelief as she hurried to catch Corg and finish her second muffin.

“See anything you haven’t seen before?” Corg quipped over his shoulder as he entered a side room.

“What? No. Shut up.”

Entering a large rectangular room lit by lamps, she saw shelves lining all four walls, and several rows of racks were in the middle. They held all sorts of weaponry, including swords, axes, and maces. Suits of plate armor hung on stands, while lighter sets of armor and helms were on tables. Large, medium, and small shields hung from the walls in diverse styles. Everything appeared meticulously maintained and sorted.

“Is this all mine?” My‑re asked.

“What? No. However, you can choose anything you want to use for your match. Go nuts.”

My‑re smiled as she shoved the last bite of muffin into her mouth, clapped her hands clean, and toured the vast armory. She pulled her battle axe from her back and tested the blade.

“You can’t use an edged weapon in the arena. This is for training,” Corg said.

Sighing, My‑re gripped her transformative axe. The gleam of the sharp blade instantly dulled. “Satisfied?”

Corg nodded.

Turning to her body’s protection, My‑re eyes widened at the selection of the heaviest plate mail and armor.

Corg said, "So, going back to the plate to fight in? You know, one aspect of armor is to ensure you are protected."

"You got that right," My‑re said. "With this stuff on, it's going to be near impossible for a weapon to get through."

"Ah, but wouldn't it be better to wear something lighter and dodge the blow instead of getting hit?" Corg asked. “Especially going against an Aimed Blow?”

"I can dodge and parry. Besides, have you ever punched metal with your fist? It hurts.” Seeing his eyes narrow at her comment, My‑re continued, “Whatever gets through, this plate will absorb." She knocked on the metal plating to stress her point as she put on a piece of the breastplate. “If you have forgotten, I’m the Blood Games champion. I’ve been in several fights and won.”

“Yes, but this is a gladiator fight, so the combat is different-”

Interrupting Corg, My‑re said, “I can handle myself. So, if I wish to wear plate armor, I’m going to wear plate armor.”

“But-”

“I don’t need you to explain that to me. Your words are not going to convince me otherwise,” My‑re snapped.

"No more words then, but you also need the ability to move on the sands," Corg said. He picked up an epee from a rack and slashed it back and forth as if to cut My‑re to pieces.

Startled and perplexed, My‑re instantly retreated and threw her arms up in defense. She tried to back up, but the awkward weight of the armor and the narrow equipment rows obstructed her movements.

Corg’s blade lunged with incredible speed and accuracy. The blunt, flat side of the epee hit her several times on the neck, legs, and arms. While the blade didn't draw blood, it left a painful red welt wherever it hit.

My‑re crumpled into a ball as Corg pointed the tip at her and said, "As my demonstration pointed out, it doesn't matter how much armor you have on. A good opponent will always find a weakness, especially an Aimed Blow. I struck each major artery on your arms, legs, and neck. I didn't even have to stab you. I could have easily sliced you and watched you bleed to death on the sands."

"The nine hells that hurt! So, what do you expect me to do? Go out there without anything but a loincloth?" My‑re retorted.

“While showing some skin might distract a male opponent and please the audience, allow me to coach you.” Extending his hand to help My‑re up, Corg continued, “Learn from my experience.”

Grumbling under her breath, My‑re said, “I learn something new each week, and each week I’m reminded how little I actually know.” She placed her hands on her hips and stood straight. “All right, coach me.”

Returning the epee, Corg turned her around, grabbed her shoulders, and moved down her arms.

“Hey?”

He then gripped her hips.

“Hey!”

Removing his hands, Corg studied her and then searched through the leather garments on a table before turning back with a suit. The set had loose rings sewn into a leather jerkin. He stepped over and raised it, looking for a size comparison. Satisfied, he tossed it to her.

Reaching out to catch it, My‑re almost dropped the armor. Surprised at its weight, she asked, "What’s this?”

"It's ringmail. It's a little heavier than leather, but overall, it's pretty good protection. It’ll provide a cushion against a punch. Besides, after a few minutes of fighting, you’ll also be glad you don’t have the extra weight." Corg motioned for her to try it on.

“I know what ringmail is. I have my own set. I could have brought mine,” My‑re stated.

“Armor rent comes with the games. No point damaging yours.” Grabbing a helm, he exited the room and called out, “Get it on. It’s almost time to start.”

Fumbling to grip the battle axe and don the ringmail armor, My‑re hobbled after Corg toward a large staging area. Gladiators checked weapons, tightened straps, and paced the lightly sanded floor. She studied each briefly to see if any were unarmed.

Likely understanding her glances, Corg said, pointing, “Your opponent will always be across the sands in the other staging area. It keeps dagger mishaps and other ‘accidents’ at a minimum.”

Peering through a large, arched metal barred gate, My‑re saw two warriors fighting on the sands, their weapons locked together in a test of strength. She spotted a similar barred gate on the other side. People were moving within.

She turned back to Corg. The sounds of combat and cheering flooded the arena. “Any advice before I fight Master Ko?” My‑re asked.

At the name, murmurs of doubt were muttered between the gladiators toward each other.

“Ignore those doubters. My guidance will ensure your victory,” Corg replied, waving off the other fighters.

A heavy metal, grinding sound preceded the barred gates opening. A man shouted, “My‑re! Blood Games champ! You’re up!”

Raising her eyebrows, My‑re looked to Corg to supply some inspiring words.

“Don’t lose.”

“My‑re, get your arse on the sand, now!” the announcer yelled.

Sighing deeply, My‑re put on her helm. Part of the inner padding was missing and a little rough as metal scraped her sweaty forehead. She adjusted it and gripped the shaft of her battle axe. Her shoulders bore the weight of the ringmail, but she could feel the heaviness pull in her nether regions. She glanced back. Corg stood behind the closed gate and motioned with his head for her to continue. Turning to the middle of the colosseum, she saw her Aimed Blow opponent enter the sands.

Despite being older than she, Master Ko had a deceptive, youthful appearance. He could be ten or more years her senior, but he’d likely look the same in another ten. His face didn’t show any expression as he approached. He had no facial hair, but his scalp had a dark outline, like a skull cap, showing through. Furthermore, while he didn’t have a helm and fought with his open hands, he wore a mirror-polished plate armor suit.

My‑re scoffed and looked back toward Corg as she motioned to her heavily armored opponent with her axe and mouthed, “The nine hells. Plate armor?”

Corg shrugged, grinned sheepishly behind the iron bars, and gave her two thumbs up.

A short trumpet fanfare announced the new match. The presenter stood under a large, covered stand surrounded by what My‑re recognized as gladiatorial managers by their flamboyant attire, chosen purposely to distinguish themselves from mundane citizens. The stands were filled with spectators, but she also noticed a large presence of Lord Protectors in the first rows throughout the arena.

The announcer bellowed, “Citizens of Talahya, next and to the left, we have the gladiator My‑re, the Blood Games Champion of Valamantis! The brave girl is a Wall of Steel fighter!”

“Woman!” My‑re called out, tightening her hands around the axe’s shaft.

“Right you are! To my right is Master Ko from the far reaches of the Kingdom of Lirith Kai, the Swordsman Empire. He uses the Aimed Blow discipline!”

The audience fell silent, shifting their attention to the warriors, indicating for the duel to begin.

Master Ko bowed respectively and held it for five seconds.

Giving a short nod, My‑re started to spin her battle axe in front of her. Vowing nothing would get through.

Master Ko stepped back from her. He walked to the right and then back left.

What is he doing? My‑re thought to herself. No matter. Spinning her weapon around, she brought her battle axe hurtling down with devastating force.

Master Ko dodged, jumping to the side of the attack. He batted her weapon aside with his plate-covered hand, leaving her open. His leg smashed outward, kicking with tremendous force!

He turned away, his metal boot striking My‑re in the left kidney. Her concentration broke, and the spinning weapon’s defense stopped. It hurt! Angered, bringing her weapon back up to speed, she brought her battle axe slicing across, ‘whooshing’ with tree-felling power!

The Lirith Kai warrior’s body became a blur of speed and motion as he leaped away from the attack. He then shifted continually back and forth. He dove forward, fist driving at his opponent with menacing fury!

He perfectly timed her motion, striking her in the abdomen. It didn’t even seem like she wore any armor as the blow blew the air from her lungs. He moved so fast!

The Aimed Blow feinted three attacks, startling and confusing My‑re. He threw a piston-like side kick at her, striking her in the right arm. It went numb. Her Wall of Steel fighting style rhythm was disrupted again.

A moment later, the feeling returned. Now, anger fueled her body. Something she could use. Master Ko advanced. My‑re made an all-out cleaving attack with her battle axe! She struck the warrior from the Swordsman Empire in the left leg. However, his armor absorbed most of the blow.

Snorting in confidence that he wasn’t untouchable, My‑re then cursed herself and realized she had let her guard down.

However, Master Ko retreated, letting the initiative slip away. He looked at his leg and then at her, tilting his head, his brow now furrowed in disappointment.

Ha! He must have thought she couldn’t touch him. My‑re bashed at him with the side of her battle axe.

Master Ko moved with grace and determination as his gauntleted hand turned away her blow. He spun, throwing a devastating wheel kick!

It hit My‑re on the side of her head. The metal helm smashed into her ear. It burned in pain. Stars blasted across her vision. Nausea churned in her stomach and threatened to bring up its contents.

Following up, he leaped into the air, sending a vicious flying kick at her!

It hit My‑re in the face, which went numb. She tasted liquid copper and felt the blood pumping into her teeth. They all throbbed. The sandy ground rushed up as she collapsed. She caught herself and fell to one knee. Desperation set in. She realized the Aimed Blow had made a point of studying her. Grunting, she determined to keep fighting.

Master Ko stood completely motionless on the sand.

She rose to meet her opponent’s mocking stance. He suddenly hammered down a ferocious forearm smash!

The attack hit My‑re’s right hand. A thousand, thousand needles raced up her arm. Staggered, she couldn’t feel her limb as the battle axe fell to the sandy ground.

The Lirith Kai warrior advanced but stopped as an outcry resonated from the Lord Protectors in the stands.

“Master Ko is accounted the winner!” the announcer’s voice called out.

Cursing that she had lost, a little voice in My‑re’s head thanked the gods the fight was called. Shaking her right hand, trying to regain its feeling, she noticed Master Ko approach. Surprisingly, with a friendly smile, he offered his hand to her.

Groaning as soreness from the battle’s blows rushed through her body, she took it, and he pulled her up. She followed him as they were quickly motioned off the sand.

Master Ko said, “Good job.”

“Good job?” My‑re questioned. “I was soundly beaten. The nine hells, you didn’t even have a weapon.”

“I had a weapon. The most powerful one a person has, so how did I beat you then? You had a battle axe. You clearly had the advantage,” Master Ko said.

“It’s obvious you’re a better fighter.”

“Perhaps, but what do you do when you meet someone better than yourself? Stronger, faster, more powerful? What then?”

Shrugging her shoulders, My‑re lamented, “You lose?”

“No, you outsmart them.”