The air in Sunset Savanna hits you like a brick wall. It’s not only hot but humid, meaning that the air feels almost too thick to breathe. You can practically feel the sweat begin to pour out of every inch of skin you have. You squint against the bright sun and try to shade your eyes but neither action does anything to help.

“Holy Hell!” Epel shouts. “It’s damn hot out here.”

“Duh,” Leona says. “Now that we’re here, everyone just do what I say, got it?” You are the only person to nod. Everyone else is too occupied with taking in their surroundings. So occupied, in fact, that they all begin to wander off in different directions. “Hey, hey! Get over here!” 

You decide it’s best to just stick close to Leona. Not only are you a stranger to this country, you’re a stranger to this world itself. There’s no telling what you may encounter. So you keep your mouth shut as much as possible through meeting Neji - the grand chamberlain - touring the city, and watching your companions eat more food than should be reasonably possible to ingest. Everyone’s having so much fun eating and shopping and trying new things. You even catch Leona smiling every once in a while.

Spirits are high even when Leona tells everyone it’s time to do some training. You’re not participating in the brawl but you still want to watch them all and be supportive. Leona lays out his game plan - a strategic masterpiece. Any doubts you’ve had about his choice of competitors have been laid to rest. Using Epel to set opponents up, Sebek to knock them down, and Floyd to keep them on their toes is pure genius. No wonder he’s hailed as a master of chess. Naturally, you seem to be the only one who doesn’t see anything wrong with this plan.

“Why do I have to be bait!?” Epel demands. Leona sighs, flicking his tail in annoyance.

“We’re going to use your size as an advantage,” he explains, tight-lipped. “They’re never going to expect a little shrimp like you would be capable of defeating them. You’ll catch them off guard.”

“I don’t like bein’ called a shrimp.”

“Who cares? I’ve seen you move in Spelldrive. Use some of that speed and it’ll be a piece of cake.”

“I take issue with being described as a ‘wrecking ball,’” Sebek declares.

“Is that ‘cause you don’t know what it is?” Epel mumbles under his breath.

“WHAT WAS THAT!?”

“Take it easy,” Leona interrupts. “There’s no reason for you to draw anything out. You can easily overpower anybody out there, so just do it. Take them down clean and simple.”

“Battle is rarely so simple.”

“Yeah, okay. But wouldn’t it bring that horned jerk so much pride to know your fights were done in record time?” Sebek’s eyes start to gleam. “And I’m sure he’ll agree that having a Sunset Warrior for a right-hand man is pretty cool.”

“I suppose. But I’ll have you know that I am capable of feats of combat far greater than-!” A yawn from Leona is enough to shut Sebek up. All eyes turn towards Floyd who has settled himself in the shade of a tree. He doesn’t notice the staring for a few long moments. Then he blinks absently.

“Hm?”

“Anything to declare?” Leona asks.

“Nah.”

“Alright then. The sun won’t be setting for another two hours. Back to it.” As much as you enjoy being able to participate as a spectator, you have to admit that the Bead Brawl looks like fun. You find yourself cheering as your schoolmates battle each other and you can’t help but laugh when Epel lets out a war cry and launches himself up onto Sebek’s shoulders to snatch his beads. This, of course, ends with the two of them wrestling around in the dirt. Only Leona looks displeased. It must be all the stress.

When you return to the hotel, you realize it will be a long time before you’re able to actually get some sleep. There’s mountains of food, crowds of people, and a live band playing right in the center of the lobby. Sebek and Grim make a beeline right for dinner but Epel asks if you’d like to come dance with him. You agree but first you ask Floyd if he’d like to come too.

“Nah,” he says, his voice oddly quiet. “I’m goin’ to sleep.”

“Okay… goodnight.” You don’t get a reply.

“Don’t mind him,” Epel says. “He’s just in one of those moods. God forbid someone give him a task to do.” You chuckle then catch sight of Leona in the doorway.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he instructs.

“We won’t. Promise.” You doubt that Epel’s promise carries much weight. Even so, Leona leaves you all to your own devices. You eat until you're stuffed, dance until your feet are numb, and laugh until you can feel a headache forming behind your eyebrows. You end the night on a balcony with Sebek and Epel, watching the stars.

“Are you guys nervous?” You ask.

“Nope.”

“Not in the least.”

“Really?”

“The knowledge that the great Malleus Draconia will feel pride after my victory keeps my spirits high!”

“Shh dude,” Epel chastises. “People are sleeping.”

“I’m not being loud!” You can’t help but laugh.

“Well, good luck,” you say. “Not that you’ll really need it.” You bid each of them goodnight before retiring to your room. Inside, you find Grim sprawled out in the center of the bed, belly bulging from the copious amounts of food he ingested that day. You shake your head, roll him aside, and practically fall asleep the instant your head hits the pillow.

You wake up jittery with anticipation but with a joyful optimism in your heart. You’ve seen your schoolmates in action, you know that they have an amazing shot at winning. Even Grim is pumped as you tie on his festive ribbon. But all that hope flutters away when you hear a pounding at the door.

“It’s unlocked,” you call. The door opens and Epel and Sebek poke their heads inside, practically stacked on top of each other. They’re already dressed with their cloaks wrapped around them and their beds dangling down onto their shoulders. They would look like warriors already if it weren’t for the terrified look in their eyes.

“We got a problem,” Epel says.

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah. And it’s a doozy.”

“Why don’t you get Leona?”

“‘Cause you’re the closest thing we got to a housewarden. And ‘cause Leona’s gonna be pissed and I don’t wanna get bit. Sebek, you wanna get bit?”

“I do not want to get bit.”

“He don’t wanna get bit neither. You gotta help.”

“What’s the problem?” Epel and Sebek exchange a glance. They appear to have a telepathic game of rock-paper-scissors before turning back to you.

“We can’t get Floyd out of bed.”

Epel, Sebek, and Grim fold themselves into your shadow as you stand in front of the door to Floyd’s hotel room. It’s eerily silent. You knock gently a few times, seeing if you can get a response.

“Floyd?” Nothing. “We’re coming in.” The light coming in from the windows illuminates every corner of the room and yet a feeling of lifelessness abounds. Floyd’s Bead Brawl costume lays in a heap on the ground at the foot of his bed. For a moment, you wonder if he’s even here. But then your eyes land on the largest pile of blankets you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s made himself a cave in bed. A small tuft of blue hair sticks out from underneath one of the pillows.

Epel and Sebek suck in a tense breath as you approach the bed. You try not to think of razor-sharp teeth and unhinging jaws as you reach an arm out. You give a small pat to your best estimation of where Floyd’s shoulder must be.

“Hey buddy,” you say as if talking to a potentially rabid dog. “It’s time to get up.” The blanket pile shifts and lets out an almost inaudible groan.

“We tried that,” Epel whispers.

“Without the touching,” Sebek adds.

“Yeah true. You’re brave.”

“Come on, Floyd,” you continue. You’re used to having to drag Grim out of bed, this shouldn’t be much different. Perhaps just a bit heavier. “I’m gonna pull the blankets off you.” Another groan. You ignore it, grab two fistfuls of the blankets and tug as hard as you can. The blankets are so tangled around Floyd’s limbs that you’re barely able to uncover part of his shoulders and hips.

“WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!” Sebek shouts before shrinking back behind you again. The voice that responds is barely audible, but you’ve heard Floyd utter these words enough times that you know exactly what he says:

“I don’t wanna.”

“Well you’re gonna have to!” Epel says, finding some new courage. “If you don’t, we’re gonna have to forfeit the Bead Brawl!”

“NO WAY! YOU WILL NOT PREVENT ME FROM BRINGING HONOR TO MALLEUS!”

“Grab his feet.” Sebek does as Epel commands and grabs the section of blanket that probably houses Floyd’s feet. Epel takes his place by his shoulders and you take your place by the door. Together, the boys heave but Floyd doesn’t budge. They try again, both grunting with the effort. It’s not until the third pull that Floyd flops off the bed with a huge thump. He’s still wrapped in blankets but at least he’s out of bed.

“What is going on?” Leona’s voice makes everyone freeze. Grim scurries under the bed and out of sight. Leona’s face is twisted in barely-contained irritation. The muscles in his arms bulge as he crosses them over his chest. He glares at the pile on the floor.

“Is Floyd in there?” All you can do is nod. With a huff, Leona marches forwards and yanks a few of the blankets off Floyd. He almost leaps into a lecture but then he stops and drops the blankets from his hand. “Damn it.”

“What?” Epel asks, trying to see what Leona sees. Then, you notice it. Floyd has always been pale but never has his skin appeared so translucent. He’s also covered in a layer of sweat. You can tell his eyes are bloodshot even though they’re barely open. There’s no doubt about it; Floyd has a fever.

“Holy Hell! What happened to you!?” Floyd doesn’t answer. He breathes slowly through his mouth, his bottom jaw flexing with every inhale. You’ve seen this in eels, where they look like they’re gasping for breath. Somehow, it’s even more terrifying to see it in him.

“What are we gonna do?” Epel asks, panic seeping into his voice. “I mean, I don’t know eel anatomy!”

“DON’T DIE ON US NOW!” Sebek bellows. “YOU’RE HALFWAY TO GRADUATION!”

“YOU HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR!” Epel joins.

“Shut up!” Leona snaps. “Let me think!” Leona’s brow furrows as he looks down at Floyd in his pathetic state. Then his face relaxes and one of his ears twitches. He’s listening to something out in the hallway. Or someone. For a moment, his eyes brighten. He dashes to the doorway and sticks his head out into the hall.

“Jamil!” Jamil?

“Jamil’s here!?” Epel asks, bounding after Leona. It takes only a second for everyone to be crowded in the doorway, looking out. You recognize Jamil right away even from the back and out of his uniform. He’s wearing white linen and brown sandals. His hair is slicked out of his face braided around his crown. He turns to face Leona and you see a twitch of venom in his eyes. But then, as if pulled by an invisible string attached to his shoulder blades, his posture straightens and he holds his hands in front of him at hip-height. As he approaches, the bangles around his wrists and ankles jingle. The jeweled adornments across his forehead glint in the early sunlight. His smile is pleasant but not real.

“How can I be of assistance, Your Highness?” An ominous chill fills the air. Leona wrinkles his nose and scowls.

“Ew. Don’t call me that.”

“Then what should I call you?” Leona and Jamil just stare at each other for a moment. There’s some unspoken understanding between them. At school, they are almost equals - both students under the same headmage. Not anymore. There’s a strange connection weaving between them due to the fact that they each occupy a role that no one else around them can imagine: the servant and the eternally served. It's strange to watch them morph into such different people. It makes your skin crawl.

“Leona will be fine,” Leona utters, his voice tight and way too formal.

“Very well, Leona,” Jamil responds. “How can I be of assistance?”

“We need your help with Floyd.” Jamil’s eye twitches.

“Floyd?”

“He should be in the Bead Brawl but he’s down. I need you to look at him.”

“I’m not sure why I’d be-”

“Because you know medicine and you know him.” It’s clear Leona’s patience is wearing thin. “All I need is him back on his feet. So just get in there and get his ass up.” 

“With all due respect, I have other things on my plate at the moment.”

“Should I get Kalim? Have him ask you to do it?” Jamil scowls, his eyes shooting daggers at Leona. His hands are clenched so tightly that his knuckles are pale and shaking. Even you can tell that Leona has just played a card that Jamil cannot ignore.

“No need,” he mutters, keeping his jaw tight. You have the sense to step way out of his way as he comes into the room, practically pulling a storm cloud behind him. Leona closes the door once everyone is inside and leans back against it with his arms crossed. Jamil goes right to Floyd with a swift precision and squats beside him. All it takes is his hand on Floyd’s forehead for him to come to a conclusion.

“What did he drink yesterday?” He asks.

“I dunno,” Leona answers. “I wasn’t babysitting him.”

“So… you brought a merman to the hottest, driest city that you have access to and now you’re shocked that he’s dehydrated?” It’s clear that the diplomatic politeness that once possessed Jamil is gone now that they’re behind closed doors. 

“Sounds like we just need to get some water in him,” Epel says. “I’ll go get-”

“No,” Jamil interrupts. “It’s too late now, he’s running a fever. Even if you manage to get him recovered, he’s not going to do anything for several days. Believe me, I know. He’s useless in this heat and that wouldn't have been a surprise to you if you had thought about it for five seconds. You would’ve been better off bringing Azul because at least then you’d stand half a chance trying to carry him back to school.” Jamil stands and walks back to the door. Leona doesn’t move out of his way.

“But the Bead Brawl…” Epel starts, clearly trying to weaponize his gigantic baby blue eyes. “We won’t be able to compete.”

“I apologize for the disappointment,” Jamil replies. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“No,” Leona says.

“No?”

“You’re a Night Raven student,” Leona continues. “Which means you could slot into our team and we wouldn’t have to forfeit.”

“No.”

“Please,” you add, hoping that adding some sweetness will be more persuasive. “They’ve worked so hard. They really want to win.”

“I’ve given my answer. If you’ll please step out of my way, I have other things to attend to.” Still, Leona doesn’t move. A smirk plays at the corner of his lips.

“That’s a shame. I know Kalim was excited to see the tournament.”

“The tournament will continue.”

“Without his friends.”

“He barely knows you’re here.”

“Shame… you know, it was Floyd’s dream to participate in this.” Jamil narrows his eyes, trying to figure out Leona’s angle. “He’ll be devastated.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you’re right. But what will Kalim think?” Jamil’s shoulders sink. He’s figured it out.

“Hm.”

“He’ll be so disappointed, he’ll probably want to jump right in and win this thing in Floyd’s honor. And, hey, I might just let him. Better than nothing, right? I think I’ll go ask him, he’s right down the hall, yeah?”

“Wait.” Jamil clenches his fists. “I’ll do it.” Leona claps Jamil on the shoulder so hard it practically knocks him forward.

“Good choice. I’ll get you a uniform.” Jamil glares at Leona as he leaves, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You know you should say something but you stay quiet. Epel and Sebek’s loud celebration is enough of a distraction.

The arena is buzzing with excitement from participants and spectators alike. Music and voices merge together to create a joyous hum that is only somewhat spoiled by Jamil’s scowling presence beside you. You’re just grateful you get to be right on the sidelines with everyone. You can hardly sit still.

It’s decided that Sebek will be first to compete. This fate that would have you nearly passing out from anxiety doesn’t seem to faze him at all. He stands right at the entrance of the ring, shaking his hands back and forth at his sides and bouncing on the balls of his feet. He’s all focus, his eyes locked on his opponent across the ring. He ducks his head down, keeping it almost in line with his shoulders, and stares up through his eyebrows. You can see his opponent whispering to the rest of his team. No doubt they think he looks insane. But Sebek is not one to care what others think.

The judges announce the tournament is about to begin. You and Epel whoop as loud as you can to pump Sebek up but he doesn’t seem to hear you. He has locked onto his target. It’s impossible to tear him away. Right before the bell rings to begin, Sebek removes his cloak and tosses it your way. It takes both you and Grim to catch it before it hits the ground. 

The long sleeves of the Night Raven College uniforms have hidden Sebek’s physique from you for the time that you’ve known him. Of course, you always knew he was strong, but you had no idea he was so massive. As the sun beats down from directly above him, every muscle casts a rippling shadow down his body. His chest is practically bursting out of the shirt of his costume and you can see every crease in his abdomen. For a moment, you fear for his opponent. And it looks like he fears for himself.

The bell rings and Sebek gets low. He’s almost in a full crawling position with one of his arms on the ground in front of him and the other pointed straight back. He keeps his head, shoulders, and spine in a perfectly straight line. His opponent is bouncy and begins to approach in a sweeping semi-circle. He’s trying to bait Sebek into following him but Sebek stays perfectly still. Only his eyes slide back and forth, never wavering. The opponent almost seems scared to approach. You would be too.

“GET ‘EM, SEBEK!” Epel calls. “TAKE ‘EM DOWN!” This prompts the opponent to strike. He lunges at Sebek, grabbing for a strand of beads. Sebek drops to the ground, rolls away, and pops right back up into position. The crowd goes nuts. Sebek takes advantage of his challenger being off-balance and attacks. He seizes him around the waist from behind, expertly topples him to the ground, and snatches every single one of his beads. A cacophony of cheers echoes across the arena. Sebek jumps to his feet and pumps his fistful of beads into the air.

“FOR MALLEUS!” He roars. You can practically hear Leona rolling his eyes even from way up in the stands. You, Epel, and Grim scream your applause from your side of the ring. Jamil claps politely but his face is stony. He’s wrapped himself in his cloak, even going so far as to pull it up over his head. It makes you sweat more just looking at him.

“Nice work!” Epel says, leaping up to chest-bump Sebek. Which was a bad idea considering the force sends him sprawling to the ground.

“I want to keep these,” Sebek says, staring at the beads as if they’re tasty prey he’s about to devour.

“Keep ‘em,” Epel says. “Who can stop you?” Jamil rolls his eyes and settles his chin in the palm of his hands. Leona’s new master plan is to have Jamil participate as little as possible by having him set to go last. If all goes well, he may not even have to step into the ring. It’s all up to Epel.

Epel is springy on his feet. Unlike Sebek, who was laser-focused, he doesn’t even look across the ring at his opponent. He instead faces his own team as you feed him words of encouragement.

“You got this,” you say.

“I know it,” he replies with a smirk.

“Remember, try to look non-threatening.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Maybe cry a little bit.” Epel throws his head back with laughter.

“Maybe,” he says. He makes his way to the center right as the bell rings to begin the match. His opponent is cocky and charges ahead right away. Epel expertly dodges with a chuckle.

“Come on now,” he taunts. “Ain’t no way you thought it’d be that easy.” He bounces on the balls of his feet and gestures for his opponent to come closer. With a growl, he falls right into Epel’s trap, lunging again. Epel laughs and evades. A third strike yields the same result. The crowd cheers and groans with every movement, filling Epel with pride and excitement.

“Come on, Epel!” You call to him. “You can do it!”

“My turn,” Epel says to his opponent. He’s too fast for the adversary to react. Epel is in his personal space in a moment but he raises his knee at just the right moment to force Epel to back away. “Scared?”

“Of what? Some little girl?” He doesn’t realize he’s just triggered a land mine. Epel stops bouncing. His eyes widen and his head tilts to the side ever-so-slightly.

“A girl?” Here it comes. In a second, the contenders are grappling with each other, kicking up a cloud of dust that’s nearly impossible to see through. You and Sebek stand in unison, trying to make out what’s happening. After a second, a familiar fist emerges from the cloud with a strand of beads in hand.

Epel bounds towards the edge of the arena, making sure everyone can see his victory. His opponent is still on the ground, panting. Epel hoots and hollers loud enough to wake the dead as he does a victory lap around the ring.

“HELL YEAH!” He screams. “HELL THE FUCK YEAH! DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT!? YOU THOUGHT I WAS SOME DEFENSELESS LITTLE GIRL! NEVER UNDERESTIMATE ME, FUCKER!” Epel removes his mask and spikes it into the ground like a football. It bounces in a high arc and misses an audience member by only half an inch. The bell rings again, twice this time, and a judge’s voice utters a death sentence:

“Epel Felmier of the Night Raven College Team, you are officially disqualified for unsportsmanlike behavior and vulgarity.”

“WHAT!?”

“This is a respectable sports event, you idiot,” Jamil hisses. “You can’t just prance around using that language. You are in the presence of a crown royal. Doesn't matter that it's just Leona.” Epel storms back to his seat and plops down in his chair. You can practically see smoke coming out of his ears.

“You fought well,” Sebek says. “It is a shame you had to act with such dishonor.”

“Blow me,” Epel mutters. Sebek’s ears turn red. Beside you, Jamil sighs loudly.

“What’s worse is that now I have to get in there.” Jamil stands, letting his cloak drop back into his chair.

“Good luck.” He doesn’t seem to hear you. He takes his position and stands completely still. His expression is unreadable. He stares across the ring as if he’s watching a professor give a lecture. His opponent is the biggest yet, at least a head taller than Jamil and nearly twice as wide. Still, Jamil doesn’t react. He just slips off his shoes.

The opponent wastes no time after the bell rings. He goes straight for Jamil. Jamil dodges with ease, spinning on the balls of his feet. You can vaguely hear Kalim’s voice in the stands calling out words of encouragement. This seems to have no effect on Jamil. Does he even hear him? He just keeps staring blankly. He forces his opponent to chase him around the ring by expertly dipping and weaving and spinning just out of reach. It’s like a dance. The beads clacking against each other as he moves is almost hypnotic. You can’t help but lean forward in your seat.

The opponent lunges for Jamil with both hands, creating a sort of cage that seems impossible to escape from. You cover your mouth with both fists as you watch. Jamil ducks low then pops back up on the other side of his opponent’s arms. He moves to lunge again but Jamil stops him just by raising two fingers. Between them is a strand of beads.

A roar echoes around them. You feel Epel grab your shoulders and shake you in victory. Jamil doesn’t celebrate. He simply moves out of the ring, drapes his cloak back around himself, and sits down. He doesn’t care that he won. He just keeps staring straight ahead.

You pay less attention as the rounds go on. You spend most of the time just chatting with Epel and Sebek. Of course, there is the occasional moment where you’re swept up in the excitement but it’s mostly just a time for rest. At some point, Leona appears behind you all.

“Good job Sebek and Jamil,” he says. He glares at Epel.

“I know," Epel groans.

“Sure. And you will be running laps for the entirety of the next eleven Spelldrive practices.”

“Shit."

“What was that?”

“Yes sir.”

“Yeah. Alright, next round will be harder. Better opponents. Jamil, you’re going to have to be in again.”

“Mhm.”

“You chose to be here. I could’ve asked Kalim but you wanted it to be you.”

“Mhm.”

“Tsk. Whatever. Just don’t lose.” Leona leaves, heading back for his seat in the stands way above them all. Only Jamil’s eyes move as he watches him go. He stares at the massive throne for a long time.

“Alright…” Epel says, sensing the tension. “I’m gonna go get a drink. Sebek?”

“I will join you.”

“Wait for me!” Grim says, leaping for Sebek’s shoulders. That leaves you and Jamil alone. For a moment, you let it be silent. But your guilt is eating at you, you have to say something.

“Listen um… so earlier… with you and Leona…” Jamil exhales loudly through his nose. “It was kind of intense… and weird.”

“These events aren’t as much fun if you’re not actually on the guest list,” he says.

“Oh.” You hadn’t realized until now: Kalim was the one to actually be invited. Jamil was brought to serve. 

“At these sorts of events, I just go where I’m told. Follow the finger snaps.” You steal a glance up at Kalim in the stand. He’s surrounded by people wearing the same white linen Jamil had on earlier. The clothes are a uniform, marking them as servants. They’re meant to broadcast their status to everyone in attendance.

“And," he continues, "I was so close to getting to sit the whole time and just watch it all happen. But no… I have to do this now. All because I lingered in the hallway.” Jamil holds his chin in his hand again. He isn’t scowling anymore. His expression isn’t angry. It’s almost sad. 

“They really snap at you?”

“Not the worst way to get my attention.” He scratches absently at the braids at the nape of his neck. He sighs again and leans back in his seat. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Epel, Sebek, and Grim return before you can protest.

“Water for all,” Epel announces, passing everyone a cup. You take it gratefully, having forgotten just how hot and sticky everything around you feels. You won’t miss the humidity, that’s for sure. Sebek downs his cup in an instant. Jamil surrenders his own. You notice Sebek is sweating buckets and wobbling a bit on his feet. He’s going to need a lot of water.

The final rounds are with the reigning champions. As much as he tries to deny it, you can tell this makes Sebek nervous. He absently picks at his fingernails as he watches his opponent take his place in the ring.

“You got this,” Epel says.

“Yes. Yes, I do. Splash me, Epel!”

“Yeah, alright.” Epel takes the rest of his cup of water and dumps it directly onto Sebek’s face. Sebek shakes his head like a dog and whoops.

“Now I am adequately moist! There will be no drying out for me. I will be strong!”

“Wow,” Jamil deadpans. “Leona brought two people predisposed to dehydration to flank his team. Excellent work, just great.”

“I am an attendant of Malleus Draconia,” Sebek continues. “I have been trained to defeat enemies much stronger than my current adversary.”

“Aren’t you worried about what he’s going to think of this?” Jamil asks, eyeing the challenger.

“What do you mean? He will be proud to have a Sunset Warrior as his right hand.”

“Fine, now that it’s just a title. But what happens if war breaks out and you have to leave Malleus? Or what if Briar Valley and Sunset Savanna wage war on each other? Then what's the plan?” Sebek’s face goes pale. You notice the ghost of a smile cross Jamil’s face. But he keeps staring straight ahead. “I don’t think he’d like that at all.”

“Why’re you razzin’ him up like that?” Epel demands.

“Just posing a hypothetical. It’s not my fault that he hasn’t thought this through.” Sebek’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. You swear you see his pupils drift apart.

“Don’t listen to him,” Epel says, trying to push Sebek towards the ring. Sebek doesn’t move at all.

“What have I done?” He whispers.

“No, Sebek, hang on,” you say, trying to repair some of the damage done. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t let him get in your head.” Sebek wanders into the ring like a man fresh out of a sensory deprivation tank. He trips over his own feet getting into position.

“Why did you do that?” Epel hisses to Jamil. Jamil keeps his eyes firmly focused on Leona up in his throne.

“I want to watch Leona squirm.”

“So you’re just gonna throw the whole game?”

“Mhm.”

“Wait a minute,” you interrupt. “You didn’t throw the last one.”

“Kalim needs something to cheer about,” he mutters. “One victory is enough to satiate him for a while.”

“You’re evil,” Epel says.

“Maybe.” The bell rings. You, Epel, and Grim yell at the top of your lungs, trying to get Sebek to snap out of his fog. But it’s no use. He stands completely still. His opponent is a massive man, a retired brawler who has been brought in as a substitution. You still have your doubts about the fairness of this special rule but you keep your mouth shut. After all, what do you know? 

At first, the opponent seems wary of Sebek’s stillness, remembering his first round. He eyes him closely, only taking a few small steps closer. He keeps his center of gravity low, preparing for Sebek’s rolling technique. But he quickly notices what the entire crowd does too, Sebek isn’t planning on moving.

“COME ON, GO!” Epel hollers. Shocking everyone, Sebek drops to his knees.

“MALLEUS I HAVE FORSAKEN YOU!” He yells at the sky.

“Here we fuckin’ go.”

“I HAVE MADE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL AND THIS IS THE PRICE I PAY. FORGIVE ME MY TRANSGRESSIONS!”

“Somebody get him outta the rink. I swear, I’m gonna beat his ass.”

“Hey man…” Sebek’s opponent says, looking around for advice. “I don’t know what this is-”

“TAKE THEM!” Sebek yanks his own beads off his mask.

“NO!” Epel screams, his face flushing scarlet. “IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT!”

“I cannot dishonor my liege,” Sebek says, holding his beads out to his opponent. “I have committed a grave offense against him. I must atone.” The opponent analyzes Sebek for signs that this may somehow be part of an elaborate scheme. He doesn’t know Sebek is incapable of scheming. It’s over, he’s done. The opponent takes the beads from Sebek’s hands and the crowd claps politely yet bewilderedly.

Epel dramatically smacks his forehead repeatedly against one of the posts marking the outside of the ring. Sebek comes back to his seat and all eyes lock onto him. You all sit in silence for a long time, trying to avoid looking anywhere near Leona’s position.

“I hate you,” Epel says, keeping his forehead pressed against the post.

“I know. I hate myself.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “Two rounds left. We just have to win both of those.”

“I will not be battling again.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Epel spits. “Jamil, I blame you.”

“Fine.”

“Still gonna throw your round, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t make it obvious,” Epel sneers. “Or Leona might have to skin you alive. We already know Sebek’s gonna be a nice gator rug for the Savanaclaw lounge.”

“I am a crocodile.”

“Suck my dick.” Jamil ignores the bickering and walks into the ring, just as unreadable as the last time. You dare to glance up at Leona in his throne, preparing yourself for flames shooting out of his eyes. But he’s not there. As a matter of fact, you can’t spot him anywhere. The bell rings and your eyes go back to Jamil.

The opposing team clearly remembers Jamil’s fighting style. They’ve sent out someone much smaller and slimmer than his previous opponent. In terms of speed and agility, they’re evenly matched from the get-go. Neither of them stop moving for a second. They dance around each other, each one occasionally snapping for a strand of beads. Even though you know Jamil intends to lose, you can’t help but feel your adrenaline rising as you watch them go.

Jamil grabs for his opponent’s beads but is countered. His opponent takes him by the arm, swings him around, and latches his fingers around a strand of beads. At least, that’s what he thinks. You suck in a breath, realizing what just happened before any of your companions do. What the attacker thought was a string of beads that had gotten caught across the top of Jamil’s mask was actually the jewels secured into his hair. And now here he stands, holding Jamil by his roots. He realizes his mistake and releases, practically throwing Jamil away from him.

There’s no apathy in Jamil’s expression anymore. He and his opponent stare at each other, both frozen. Jamil’s shoulders are hunched forward and his breathing is heavy. Some of the hair at the front of his head has come loose, causing several strands to fall into his face. One of his eyes twitches. Your blood runs cold at the look on his face. He’s enraged. And his opponent is terrified, still holding one of the jewels he pulled free.

“You pulled my hair,” he hisses.

“I- I am so sorry. I thought- I was trying-” Jamil launches himself at his opponent. The poor guy is face-down on the ground in an instant with one of his arms pulled straight behind him and Jamil’s knee between his shoulders. Jamil yanks the beads off, practically pulling the mask off with it. He tosses the beads to the ground as he stands and walks right back to his seat. Even Epel in all his rage can’t help but cheer.

“YOU HOG-TIED HIS ASS! HELL YEAH! FUCK HIM!” A stern look from the judges warns him that he’s one outburst away from being ejected. Jamil smooths the loose hair away from his face and goes back to staring straight ahead. This victory might mean nothing to him. But there’s a sparkle in his eyes that makes you doubt that.

The next match brings uncertainty. You have no idea if Leona will choose to send Sebek in who he knows will forfeit or risk sending Jamil who he surely must know might throw it all away. You don’t envy his position as the decision-maker. It’s not until a masked stranger approaches and calls himself by your name that you remember that dubious special rule. Leona is in the ring.

His brawl is a thing of beauty. So effortless and easy. His opponent never stood a chance and yet there were a few moments you could’ve sworn he came close to a victory. But you know that Leona is just toying with him. Victory was certain the moment he stepped down from his throne. Leona Kingscholar had what he wanted - a perfect excuse to not do his sacred duty. You know that everyone will get an earful on the way back home but honestly, judging by the very real and very rare smile across Leona’s face, you’re not worried. It’s all so joyous that everyone seems to forget about the fact that someone will need to carry Floyd back to school.