The Dragon and the Fox

Morning came, though what time it actually was, Kira did not know. She stretched as much as she could, yawning and flicking her tail.

She jumped up to look out of the window, and saw that the arena seats were filling. The actual battles wouldn’t start until much later, but those who wanted good seats had to come very early. Some of them had even come last night, and had slept in the stands.

A pleasant breeze kissed her face, and though Kira no longer had the ability to smile, she felt her heart warm just a little bit. It reminded her of when Deya had sang, and how everything had slowed and reacted at the same time—but in a gentle, caring way.

“I will find you, Deya,” Kira whispered.

“Morning to you as well.” Rogue’s amused voice reached her ears. She reddened slightly, wondering if he had heard her. If so, he chose not to say.

“Morning, Rogue,” she greeted.

“How’s your training going?” the leopard asked.

“I think it’s improved,” Kira said hopefully. “But I don’t know. What if I go on the arena and find out that my dodging skills are too wonky or my claws are too dull or I’m to clumsy or—”

“Stop worrying,” Rogue said sternly. “The more you overthink it, the more likely you are to fail. Trust your instincts. If you think your opponent is playing tricks on you, take no chances. Often, your reflexes can save you as well. Don’t be afraid to attack someone when they’re at their weakest, because they will do the same thing for you. Show no mercy.”

Show no mercy. Kira shivered.

I can’t think about that.

I have to do this. For Deya, for Cyalia…

For my mother.

Kira took a deep breath.

“And one other thing,” Rogue continued. “Don’t listen to the crowd, or the announcer. They will jeer at you. They will try to get you down, and to get you to give up. But you must ignore them. That is a crucial part about fighting in the arena.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” Kira smirked.

She had no problem defying other creatures. Surely this would be no worse than standing up to Tempest.

As the seats filled in, Rogue and Kira had a debate about what type of creature they would see next.

“They generally don’t do the same types of creatures twice,” Rogue told her. “Or very often, since it makes everything seem kind of dull. So far, they’ve done rodent, equestrian (or from the equestrian lands), lizard, bear, wolf, and alligator, so my bet is on a lion.”

“What if it’s a bird?” Kira argued. “Or maybe both…”

“Could be,” Rogue mused. “My bet is still on lion, though.”

“I’ll go with eagle,” Kira said.

After a few hours, all of the stands filled up, and the announcer was in his booth. Kira craned her neck to try and see what creature he was, but she couldn’t. Rogue said he was a giant alligator, but she hadn’t seen enough of him to know whether Rogue was bluffing or not.

Rogue and Kira were silent, both wondering who would win the bet.

Suddenly, the door at the end of the hallway creaked open. A guard clanked down the hallway. Kira expected him to go right past her, but he stopped in front of her cell. It was a hawk. His yellow eyes glared at her from beneath a metal helmet. He had a hooked beak that glinted dangerously in the torchlight, and his talons were encased in razor sharp metal.

“You’re up in the arena,” he croaked. He used his metal talon to unlock the door, and it swung open with a condemning creak. “Come on.”

For once, Kira didn’t want to leave her cell. What if she wasn’t ready? What if she failed? What if she died?

“Do you need a bit of persuading?” the hawk said softly, leaning in closer, eyes not blinking once.

“N-no,” Kira said.

“Then follow me,” he sneered. The hawk stepped out of the door and stalked down the hallway, with Kira on his tail feathers. On the way, she passed Rogue’s cell. He gave her a wink and waved.

How can he be so confident? Is he just putting on face for me, or does he actually think that I can win?

And then he was out of sight, and dread lined Kira’s stomach. Her wings twitched nervously in their bindings.

The hawk led her in the opposite direction of the mess hall. Kira followed anxiously, wondering if today would be the day of her death. Flashes of the Big Field drifted through her brain, and she pushed them to the back of her mind. She didn’t need to think about that right now.

They stopped at a wooden door with a small barred window in the middle. The hawk knocked, the metal-on-wood sound echoing down the passageway.

“What’s the password?” a voice grunted from behind the door.

“Darkness always wins,” the hawk hissed in response.

The door swung open, and they were greeted by the sight of a giant hippopotamus. Kira had never seen one, or even seen pictures of one, but she knew this must be one. The description matched perfectly with the real thing, and there was no other creature she could think of that fit with this one.

“Another one?” he rumbled, sharp teeth flashing as he spoke. His jaws were powerful-looking, and Kira would not want to cross him, ever. He was even scarier than the horse that had greeted her on her first day.

“Yeah. She’s new.” The hawk reached back and shoved Kira through the door.

The room behind the door was nothing special. It wasn’t even very big, and it was rather dark and gloomy. An entire wall facing the arena was one big gate.

She could hear the sound of the crowd coming from behind the gate, as well as the arena sands.

“Here are the rules,” the hippo said. “There are none. Everything is fair. Killing is the whole point of this. Just don’t die. Or do. It won’t matter to us.”

The hawk chuckled, and both he and the hippo disappeared behind the door.

The gate rattled upwards, groaning and clanking. Kira took one step forwards, then another, and then stepped onto the grounds of the arena.

It was huge. Kira had seen the stands and the grounds from outside her window, but from the floor, it was much, much bigger. The stands seemed to go up and up forever, almost touching the sky, it seemed to her. The announcer (It is an alligator, Kira thought feverishly) sat on a large platform overlooking the fighters, grinning with pointy teeth.

Across from Kira, on the other side of the arena, a snake slithered onto the sands. He had the grace of a seasoned predator, and the eyes of one who could not be surprised. His tongue flicked in and out, and she knew he could smell her fear. He lifted his head and regarded her with an amused gaze.

“And here we have,” the announcer boomed, “Maximon of the snakes, fighting Kira of the foxes!”

The crowd cheered and booed.

“Boo! That fox looks only six eclipses old!”

“What, are they putting him up against a child?”

“There’s no way that puny thing will win this!”

“Ha! He’s going to eat her for breakfast!”

“Maximon has won five fights,” the alligator commentated. “Our dear little fox, however, has not fought in any battles yet.”

The crowd booed some more. Kira felt small, looking up upon hundreds and hundreds of faces, all gazing down at her like she was scum across their feet.

Don’t listen to the crowd. You must ignore them.

Kira took a deep breath and turned her eyes to the snake instead.

“Three…two…one…FIGHT!” the announced roared.

The snake lunged at Kira, hissing. She dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding his jaws as they clamped shut where she should have been.

Kira approached her attacker, growling like she was going to clash head on with him. He held his ground, grinning.

At the last moment, Kira feinted to the left, then swiped to the right. Her claws raked his side, and he hissed loudly in pain. The crowd gasped, then cheered as one.

The snake shook his head angrily, then slithered after her. Kira danced away, flinging sand in his eyes. He fell over on the ground, and Kira pounced on him.

In a second, his coils were upon her. The little fox soon found the life being squeezed out of her. Blackness hovered at the edge of her vision, conquering her sight.

No. I will not die.

And, as soon as she had that thought, the darkness in her eyes faded, and everything became clear again.

Thunder boomed, and the snake looked up, confusion on his face. Kira shuddered, feeling some sort of bright energy build up inside of her, waiting to be released. The snake loosened his tail, but it was too late. Lightning burst forth from Kira’s body, reaching its electrical tendrils towards him and enveloping the reptile, leaving him writhing in pain and agony.

Show no mercy.

Show no mercy.

Kira stopped the lightning and pounced on him, putting her paws against his throat.

But could she land the killing stroke?

Show no mercy.

Show no mercy.

But he has a name! Kira’s thoughts protested, feeling the snake’s scales against her paws. He had a family. Just like…just like I did.

Show no mercy.

Kira thought about Deya, and what she would say in this situation. Would she justify killing another creature to save her own life?

No. She wouldn’t, I’m sure of that.

Kira thought of her mother. Would she be disappointed in her daughter for murdering someone?

Is it really murder if I’m just trying to survive?

“DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!” the crowd screamed wildly.

You don’t care about anyone but yourself! Blizzard’s angry words reached her head.

Show no mercy.

“DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!”

And then Kira looked down at her victim. His eyes were wide, his slit pupils dilated. He was at her mercy, with her claws inches from ending his life.

And in that moment, Kira smelled him, and he smelled of fear.

Just like me.

I can’t kill him.

Kira stepped off of him.

“BOOO! DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!”

“Wh-what are you doing?” the snake asked, flipping back onto his belly and giving Kira a confused stare.

“I can’t kill you,” Kira confessed.

“You have to,” he said.

“No.” Kira turned away from him and faced the crowd.

The announcer looked hesitant, and Kira knew why. She had powers. They were dangerous, and they could kill. He knew that, but he also wanted to keep face for the customers.

“TAKE THEM AWAY!” he called.

The crowd shrieked in outrage. Boos and jeers—some directed towards the announcer—filled the arena. Guards marched onto the sands and seized Kira and Maximon, dragging them back through their respective gates.

But before they went, Kira looked at Maximon, and met his eyes.

And maybe, just maybe, they were the eyes of a new friend.