17. Ashale

Today, the weight of our entire journey converged into a singular point of anxiety.

As I stood there in the bleak morning light, every nerve, every fiber in my body screamed the gravity of what lay ahead.

The sterile environment of the prison around us seemed to echo the tension that had been building, creating an overwhelming sensation that was impossible to ignore.

As I closed my eyes, trying to center myself, the distant sounds of the arena reached my ears — the muffled shouts of the crowd, the clanging of weapons, the sharp bell indicating the beginning and end of each match.

But there was another sound, fainter, more sinister.

It was the low, mocking laughter of Sneik, the ever-present nemesis whose looming threat added an even deeper layer of urgency to our mission.

Running my fingers over the cold, hard surface of the wall, the rough texture seemed to juxtapose the delicate situation we found ourselves in.

I couldn't let my thoughts wander as to what might happen if we lost.

The very idea of Sneik laying claim to Nova sent chills down my spine, the cold fear more palpable than any weapon I had faced in the pits.

It was a fate I couldn't — wouldn't — entertain.

Each swallow felt like an effort, the dread knotting my insides, making it hard to breathe, let alone eat.

Nova approached me, her soft touch pulling me from my reverie.

The feel of her hand enveloping mine was the one anchoring sensation in the chaotic tempest of emotions swirling within.

I pulled her close, feeling the rhythmic beat of her heart against mine.

She smelled of hope and resilience, a beacon in the storm that threatened to consume us.

"We can't fail, Nova," I whispered into her ear, my voice strained with desperation. "I can't lose you."

She looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We won't. We've come too far to give up now."

But that wasn't entirely true.

We had come a long way, but the journey had taken its toll on both of us.

Every battle in the pits was a gamble, and the odds weren't always in our favor.

The constant threat of other Champions, each seeking to claim Nova as their Prize, was a daily nightmare.

And the thought of someone else, someone not worthy of her, touching her… it would shatter me.

The bond we shared was our strength, and to sever it would be our undoing.

"We have to win, Ashale," she said, her voice determined, pulling me from the dark abyss of my thoughts. "It's the only way."

I nodded, wrapping my arms around her tighter as if I could shield her from all the dangers lurking just outside our door.

We had tried so many times to summon the mystical creature, but each attempt had been fruitless, pushing us closer and closer to the edge of despair.

But today, we didn't have a choice.

We had to succeed.

As the moments ticked by, drawing us closer to our inevitable confrontation, the weight of our situation threatened to crush me.

The prospect of never unlocking the dragon's power, of being stuck in this hellish nightmare indefinitely, was too much to bear.

But more than that, the idea of losing Nova, of watching her suffer under Sneik's cruel hand, was a fate far worse than any death.

Gripping Nova's hand, I took a deep breath, trying to savor the calm before the storm.

The stakes were higher than they had ever been, the price of failure unimaginable.

We had to win today.

There was simply no other option.

* * *

Steppinginto the anteroom of the central fighting pit, the air was thick with anticipation.

The clamor from the vast crowd outside reached us, waves of sound crashing through the steel walls, leaving an echoing resonance that made my chest vibrate.

The familiar smell of oiled leather, sharpened steel, and the subtle hint of nervous sweat filled my nostrils.

The central pit was always abuzz with energy, but today it was alive in a way I'd never witnessed before.

It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

The cacophony was a living entity of its own; the shouts, cheers, and taunts created a sonic tapestry that set the stage for the most important battle of my life.

The excitement of the audience was palpable, their roars tingling on my skin like static electricity.

Nova looked around, slightly overwhelmed by the raucous environment.

Her hand slipped into mine, seeking reassurance.

The feel of her fingers, cool and soft, grounded me amidst the overwhelming stimuli.

I approached the weapon racks, my fingers gliding over the cold steel of each weapon.

I opted for a light sword, perfect for quick maneuvers, and its familiar weight brought a semblance of comfort.

Donning light armor, I allowed its snug embrace to provide a second layer of skin, protecting my vitals.

A small shield, ideal for deflecting and parrying, completed my ensemble.

For Nova, I chose thick armor.

The plated suit might be cumbersome, but I wasn't willing to take chances with her safety.

I handed her a medium shield and a small dagger, the blade shining menacingly even under the dim anteroom lights.

She eyed it skeptically but took it with grace, testing its balance in her hand.

"I hope I don't have to use this," she whispered, her eyes reflecting her anxiety.

I knew she wouldn't need to, not in the traditional sense.

We weren't counting on her combat skills but on her ability — that ethereal force that could very well be our key to victory.

However, in a place like this, expecting the unexpected was the norm.

And in the unlikely event she would need to defend herself, I wanted her to have something to fall back on.

As I buckled the last strap of my armor, familiar faces approached.

My students, males I'd trained and fought alongside, each coming forward with words of encouragement.

Their faith in me, evident in their proud smiles and firm handshakes, was heartening.

There was Lira with his fiery red hair, his grin mischievous as always, clapping me on the shoulder. "Give ‘em hell, Ashale."

Then came Jax, stoic and reserved, nodding solemnly.

His respect was evident in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the challenge ahead.

Finally, Kael, the youngest of the trio, stepped up. "We believe in you," he stated simply, his words carrying more weight than a thousand speeches.

I nodded at each, feeling the warmth of their belief surge through me.

Nova squeezed my hand, her eyes misty. "Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, tasting the thick anticipation in the air, I looked at her and nodded. "Always."

With that, the great doors to the fighting pit began to open, the brilliant light spilling in, temporarily blinding us.

The roars of the crowd grew louder, nearly deafening, as we stepped forward.

The sight of the vast audience, a sea of faces each eagerly awaiting the spectacle, was overwhelming.

As the door clanged shut behind us, sealing our fate, I felt Nova's reassuring presence by my side.

And in that moment, regardless of the outcome, I knew we were where we were meant to be.

We had entered the lion's den.

* * *

The roarof the crowd was thunderous.

It washed over me like a tidal wave, full of energy, anticipation, and a touch of bloodlust.

It wasn't my first time standing in the spotlight of the fighting pit, but it was Nova's, and I could feel the tension in her body as she gripped my arm.

Every corner of the fighting pit was alive, with spectators from different corners of the universe, each bringing with them their unique scents, sounds, and colors.

I raised my arm, giving them a wave, attempting to look confident and unaffected.

My heart raced, keeping pace with the beat of the crowd's fervor.

Beside me, Nova seemed more like a fragile bird than ever.

She was squinting, shielding her eyes from the blinding lights, trying to process the enormous crowd before her. "It looks so different from up there," she whispered, glancing up at the Prize Pool area, where she used to stand.

Her voice was a soft melody amidst the chaos, grounding me in the moment.

I could imagine how she felt.

The Prize Pool was elevated, safely away from the raw energy of the pit.

From her vantage point, the fights might've seemed like choreographed dances, the noise a distant rumble.

But here, in the thick of it, the reality was much more visceral.

"I know it's overwhelming, but you've got this," I assured her, trying to make my voice audible above the crowd's cries.

I pulled her close, allowing her to momentarily bury her face in the crook of my neck. "Remember our plan. Use your spirit animals to keep Sneik and his supporter off balance. They will be your shields, your distractions. They are a part of you, and they will not let you down."

She nodded, pulling away slightly to look me in the eyes.

Her irises shimmered with determination mixed with a hint of fear. "I trust you, Ashale. And I'll do everything I can to help."

"I know you will," I whispered back, allowing my lips to brush lightly against her forehead.

The silky touch of her hair, and the softness of her skin provided a much-needed reprieve from the tension building around us.

Our moment was broken by the booming voice of the announcer, introducing us to the crowd.

With a final squeeze of my hand, Nova stepped back, assuming her position.

As I prepared to face Sneik, I couldn't help but let my gaze roam around the arena, trying to discern who his supporter would be.

It was a nagging thought at the back of my mind, like an itch I couldn't quite reach.

Sneik was a formidable opponent on his own, but with an unknown element by his side, our strategy could fall apart.

Closing my eyes for a split second, I let my senses roam, hoping to catch a hint of our adversaries.

But all I was met with were the distinct sounds of the crowd, their fervent shouts and screams, and the heady mixture of a thousand different scents.

It was nearly impossible to distinguish one from the other.

Opening my eyes, I looked towards Nova.

Her presence was a beacon of hope in the overwhelming storm around us.

She was ready, her face set in a mask of determination, her body poised for action.

The weight of the unknown pressed heavily on my shoulders, but as the gates at the other end of the pit began to open, signaling the entrance of Sneik and his yet-unrevealed supporter, I pushed the uncertainty aside.

We had a fight to win.

And no matter who or what was on the other side, Nova and I would face it together.

It bothered me, more than I cared to admit, not knowing who was about to join Sneik in the pit.

But one thing was certain — we were in this together, and together, we would rise above it all.

* * *

The arena wasa cacophony of voices, each trying to overpower the other.

But when Sneik stepped into the pit, the noise unified into a synchronized symphony of boos and jeers.

I couldn't help but smile slightly at the public sentiment towards him.

As the audience's disdain washed over him, Sneik seemed unfazed.

There was always a coldness about him, a sort of unfeeling exterior that never showed any indication of what might be going on in that twisted mind of his.

His eyes, however, darted over to me, sharp and assessing.

I could hear the distant sounds of bets being placed, spectators discussing the odds, and the inevitable fate of the combatants.

To my surprise, Sneik's support was someone I hadn't seen before.

Unlike most pit warriors who were all muscle and bravado, this man was almost the opposite.

He was of average build, with no discernible scars or markings of frequent battle.

His appearance was unremarkable, but the way Sneik stood beside him made me believe there was more to him than met the eye.

The unfamiliar scent of this new player was a mixture of earth and something else I couldn't quite place, adding to the mystery.

"Why that one, Sneik?" I called out, nodding towards the stranger. "Are you branching out to strategy over brute strength?"

Sneik smirked, an ugly curl of his lips that never reached his eyes. "Always so predictable, Ashale. Expecting a fighter, were you?"

Nova shifted uneasily beside me.

The pulse point at her throat quickened, betraying her anxiety.

I reached out and gently squeezed her hand, offering a silent assurance.

Her touch, warm and steady, was a welcome anchor.

Sneik laughed, the sound echoing eerily around the pit. "You see, Ashale, while you were busy playing house with your new toy," he gestured dismissively at Nova, "I was strategizing. And I found myself the perfect partner."

With that, he clapped the shoulder of the male prisoner beside him.

The stranger remained silent, his gaze cool and unfocused, giving away nothing.

"And who might this be?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Sneik's grin widened. "Oh, where are my manners? Ashale, meet Erys. He might not look like much, but trust me, appearances can be deceiving."

The name didn't register, and my senses couldn't pick up anything that might provide more clues.

Erys' silence, the controlled manner in which he stood beside Sneik, only added to the enigma.

"Enough with the games, Sneik," I retorted, shifting my weight and preparing for the inevitable combat. "Your strategies never did impress me."

Sneik chuckled a mirthless sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

The air grew dense with anticipation.

The lights overhead seemed brighter, and the audience's murmurs and whispers intensified.

"Just remember, Ashale, you asked for this," Sneik taunted.

Nova's voice, soft and determined, broke through the tension. "We're ready for whatever you throw our way."

For a split second, I felt a pang of pride for her.

Despite her fears and the uncertainty, she stood firm, ready to face whatever came next.

Sneik's eyes danced with amusement. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

The crowd, sensing the climax of the standoff, suddenly fell silent.

A hush enveloped the arena.

The only sounds were the soft whir of drones capturing every moment, the distant hum of machinery, and the rhythmic beat of my heart.

Above us, the massive display started its countdown.

3…

2…

1…

As the final number flashed, the pit erupted into action.

The crowd's screams and cheers blended into a cacophonous backdrop as Sneik and I locked eyes, each challenging the other to make the first move.

The fight had begun.