Between the Light and the Darkness - Chapter 13 - The Grand Tournament

Tim forgave Ileeya. How could he not forgive her? During the weeks that followed, they tried to make small talk. But the tournament was always hanging over Tim's head. He was almost sick with worry.

He struggled with his feelings. He wanted to tell Ileeya how he felt, but thought it might be better if he didn't. It would only complicate things. If he died in the tournament, she could just continue on as she had before he came here.

The month before the Grand Tournament was spent entirely in the practice yard. Those few weeks went by quickly. Too quickly. Tim put all his concentration into learning as much as he could in the short amount that was left. Ileeya was happy with his progress, but Tim had his doubts. He just wanted to make it through the tournament in one piece.

The night before the tournament arrived before Tim was ready for it. He was a bundle of nervous energy and bounded uselessly around the small cell.

"Tim, try to relax. Here, have something to eat. You need to keep your strength up."

"I'm too nervous to eat. How can you do it? How can you be so calm?"

Ileeya shrugged. "Just used to it, I guess. I never really had a reason to be nervous. I was stuck in this strange world, with no family or friends. Life wasn't much too promising. Don't get me wrong. I didn't want to die. It's just that death compared to life here didn't seem like that bad of an alternative. They won't just throw you with anyone. You'll be paired with another competitor in the same category as yourself, it makes for a more challenging battle. You'll do fine. You seem to have a knack for swordplay."

He couldn't help but smile in return to her reassurance, but inside, he was falling apart.

Before they bedded down for the evening, Ileeya gave Tim a quick kiss on the lips and then laughed at the surprised look on his face. "For good luck," she said.

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The next morning, Tim was a wreck.

"Try to relax, Tim. I know it's hard, but you can't properly defend yourself against an attacker if you're so shaky."

It was impossible. He couldn't relax. He couldn't eat, either. He didn't trust his stomach to hold anything down.

"Just remember your lessons. Never strike out of haste. Watch your opponent carefully. Look for the right time. Never take your eyes off him, not even for a second. And above all else, think!"

A few moments later, Aark opened the door and grunted at them. It was time to go. The guard ushered them into the hallway where they joined a line of fellow prisoners and were led outside into the glaring heat of an average day in this world.

They were taken to a weapons room to choose their swords. The same choices were laid out before him as the 'practice weapons', but Tim noticed immediately that these weapons felt different. They were slightly heavier, but just had a sinister feel to them. The blades were sharpened to a wicked point and a razored edge. Tim hardly supressed a shiver as he thought about what this sword was capable of.

The prisoners, after gathering their tools for battle, were taken to a large courtyard off the side of a large stone structure which Tim guessed was the arena. The slaves were divided into their groups and then instructed to sit and wait their turn. Tim wasn't very familiar with anyone in his group. They all looked nervous, like he felt, and jittered like a bunch of scared rabbits. Tim looked nervously around him.

He found Ileeya sitting a short distance away with her group, which naturally included Jondak. As would be expected, he was sitting next to her, about as close as he could get without sitting on her lap, flirting with her. Tim wanted to go to her, to hold her, to smell her hair just one more time, to tell her he loved her. He tried to drink her in, just in case he never saw her again. He wanted hers to be the last face he saw. Her hair was tied back in its usual fashion, and the sun glinted off of it, revealing its bright silver highlights. Her enticingly pointed ear, which Tim was now accustomed to, was fully visible. She was so exquisite, and Jondak was such a sleaze. Tim hoped Jondak wouldn't make it through the tournament. As soon as the thought passed through Tim's head, Jondak turned and looked at him, smiling.

Tim was more than a little surprised to see Jondak rise and start toward him. His eyes stared into Tim's as he approached. Tim stood aprehensively and waited.

"Hello, Tim," Jondak said upon arrival. A thick inderterminable accent penetrated his words. Tim nodded in response, not trusting his voice.

Jondak stuck out his hand. "Good luck in your first of hopefully many Grand Tournaments." He smiled. Or at least his mouth did. His eyes remained as cold as a mountain stream in the dead of winter.

Tim looked from Jondak's inhuman eyes to his outstretched hand and back again. He managed to half smile, half smirk as he reached out to shake hands with the Irnaxxian.

A feeling of revusion mingled with panic flooded him when he touched Jondak's hand. The man smiled intently, knowingly. Tim desperately tried to pull his hand away, but to no avail.

Suddenly, was on his knees, pleading like a defenseless coward. Every muscle was weak and trembling. He felt fatigued, feverish. He heard himself begging. The point of one of Jondak's swords was raised high in the air, light glinting off its keen surface.

"Please...," Tim croaked.

"Stand, coward," Jondak growled, lowering his weapons.

Tim was frozen. He could do nothing.

"I said stand!"

Tim shakily rose to his feet.

Jondak's face was cruel and merciless, filled with self-satisfaction.

A split second later, Jondak's blade entered Tim's back with such force and speed, he wasn't sure it happened at first. He felt a ripping pierce through his chest, and realized with sickening horror that the blade went completely through him, tearing a path through his lung. Tim struggled to draw a breath. He gagged, as volumes of blood creeped up into his throat. Tim let out a gurgling cry with his last breath; and just before the thickening blackness enveloped him, he caught a glimpse of Jondak's evil, smiling face.

Tim was standing now, his hand in Jondak's tight grip. Instinctively, he jerked his hand away. His heart hammered fiercely in his chest and sweat ran in rivulets down his face.

"Good luck, again," Jondak whispered, before heading back to his group.

Slowly, reality sunk back in. What the hell was that? A nightmare in the middle of the day while he was awake? Through a handshake? And Jondak knew what he was doing, that was obvious. The way he leered at Tim when the 'vision' or whatever the hell it was, was over, Jondak knew. He had forced Tim to see that. Ileeya had said Irnaxxians possessed some minor telepathic abilities, but this seemed pretty major to him.

He looked over to where Jondak was sitting. When he saw Tim looking at him, he smiled and waved. For the first time since he viewed the alien, Tim felt a raw panic when he looked at Jondak.

With the strange encounter with Jondak still fresh in his mind, Tim sat nervously with his group. What a vivid vision! No one in his group noticed anything unusual about the handshake. Now instead of simply worrying about his own and Ileeya's lives, he had Jondak to worry about. If he didn't get killed in the arena, he would probably die at the hands of Jondak. Okay, get a grip, he told himself. Ileeya had said that Irnaxxians use their powers to their advantage. Apparently Jondak was trying to rile him up a little. Or a lot. Why? Why would Jondak be trying to intimidate Tim? Did Tim pose some sort of threat? He wasn't nearly as good a fighter as Jondak, a point made quite clear by the groups they had been placed into.

Was he jealous? Of what? Jondak was a good looking guy. Was it because of Ileeya? That was ridiculous. Nothing was even going on there. But it wasn't ridiculous. Tim recalled how Jondak acted at every lunch in the hall. Flirting with Ileeya. She had told Tim that Jondak pursued her because she refused him. Maybe Jondak was getting tired of the chase and wanted his prize. Maybe he wanted Tim out of the way to be sure he wouldn't interfere with Jondak's conquest. Ileeya could probably beat him in a sword fight, but Jondak was much stronger. He could overpower her physically. And then there's that telepathy thing. Could he control her mentally? The idea frightened him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a rude slap on the shoulder. One of the guards gestured at him and then to the arena.

It was his turn.

He sighed deeply and followed the guard across the yard to the arena door.

He looked back over his shoulder for what he hoped wasn't his last glimpse of Ileeya. She was standing serenely, resting her hand her hip. A slight blush colored her cheeks and a small smile played about her lips. She did not see him looking at her.

The arena was about the size of a basketball court. Just like on his own planet, rows of seats lined the perimeter. Several creatures sat upon the wooden benches, quietly; anxiously awaiting the bloody battle that was about to begin. A raised area sat on the west side of the arena, where richly dressed aliens sat. Tim saw the king of this province there, and surmised the others must be the rulers of the other lands that Ileeya had mentioned.

He saw his competitor for the first time. The creature was huge, covered in thick green scales. Bright green eyes seemed to glow within his angular face, which seemed tranquil, confident.


Tim attempted to choke back the bile rising in his throat. If his heart beat any faster, he was sure it would fly right out of his chest. He swallowed nervously and waited for what would happened next.

The guard walked to the center of the arena, then beckoned forth the two competitors. With rubbery legs Tim willed himself to move. He suddenly found himself in the center, without remembering each step he took to get there. Close up, his opponent was even more frightening. He shook his sword at Tim and growled. The crowd started to cheer.

The guard shushed the crowd, then introduced the two to each other before addressing the audience. Tim saw little point in this, as one of them would not be leaving alive. His opponent, Slogg, snarled hungrily at him. When Tim's name was mentioned in the formal introduction, the crowd let out a chorus of boos and hisses. But when Slogg was introduced, the crown went wild.

Slogg lifted his arms to the crowd, and they yelled and cheered even louder. The fighters bowed to one another at a command, then the guard ran to the other side of the arena. At a second command the two poised themselves for battle.

Tim tried to swallow his fear and concentrated on getting through this alive. Slogg, being experienced in arena fighting, ignored the excited cheers and the staring eyes of the audience. This only proved to make Tim more apprehensive.

Slogg struck first, but it was a hasty strike which Tim easily dodged. For the first several minutes Tim only doged the blows and studied his opponent. He noticed almost immediately that Slogg wasn't even looking for an unguarded spot, but just tossing swings and hoping to hit, depending on his great strength to win his battle.

Tim began to feel more relaxed now that he knew his opponent's weakness. He waited for the right moment and struck a strong blow at the lizard's midsection. Slogg howled in pain and struck blindly, catching Tim off guard.

Slogg's sword cleaved through Tim's right shoulder, causing him to fall down on one knee. Before Tim could regain his footing, another blow came at his head. Tim tried to block it with his sword. He managed to deflect most of the blow, but the tip of Slogg's sword sliced across his neck. Had he not raised his sword in time, the blow would have been fatal.

Tim recovered quickly and was on his feet within seconds. His own wounds temporarily forgotten by a surge of adrenaline, he got back into the rhythm of the fight and sought an opening.

Slogg had a gloating smile on his face. He was full of himself now and it shouldn't be too difficult to find an unguarded spot. Tim was doing rather well blocking with his sword, and a moment later found his opening.

He waited until the lizard struck, then Tim simultaneously jumped to the side and struck Slogg in the stomach. He could feel the resistance as his sword ripped through Slogg's midsection. Almost in slow motion the creature howled, as his belly opened up and blood rose to the surface, and Slogg started to fall backward.

Slogg roared in agony and made a hasty swing at Tim. This time Tim blocked it easily. Slogg fell in a squealing heap and died at Tim's feet. A pungent scent rose into the air as Slogg's blood gushed out of his stomach and stained the ground. Tim's stomach heaved and bile gurgled in his throat. I will not vomit! he told himself.

The crowd was silent for a moment, then erupted in a chorus of cheers. They rose to their feet, exalting their new champion. Tim looked up at them and his vision blurred. The loss of blood from his neck and shoulder, combined with the adrenaline rush caused Tim to feel weak.

He swayed on his feet as he felt his world going gray. He fell to one knee while the world swam around him. He could no longer hear the cheering of the crowd; the sound of his pounding heart filled his ears, throbbed his temples, enveloped his head.

I will not pass out! he told himself as he took one last glance at the audience. Then the sea of darkness engulfed him.