Fighting hearts

Twelve

"That looks like a nasty cut," Evie said, looking at the gaping, pouring wound splitting Shura's lip.

"It only stings a bit."

Evie put on her gloves and handed Shura a clean cup. "Spit, before you get nauseous from losing all that blood." She pointed at the patient's chair. "And sit while I prepare what I need. A needle and some long thread, I would say, because you'll need at least ten stitches."

The treatment proceeded smoothly, taking about twenty minutes, before Shura's lip had returned to its natural shape again—or better said, as close as it could get to its natural shape. There would always be some evidence left from these injuries, hence why so many fighters had scars or deformed ears, or a weirdly shaped nose. Even Roth had his marks and scars but Evie had never found those to be flaws. Instead, they gave him character.

"There," Evie said, handing Shura a hand mirror. "As handsome as before."

Shura observed himself. "Yup, still the same ugly mug."

"Don't fish for compliments," Evie said, cleaning her equipment. "By the way, is Roth fighting last today?"

"Isn't he always?" Shura asked. "'Save the best for last,' like they say."

"Yes, I suppose. I was just wondering."

"Why? You wanna watch? He's up against one of Donald's men today."

Donald was Carlisle's competitor, but the man's fighters were nowhere near as good as the ones that belonged to The Pits.

Evie thought about it for a moment. "Okay, I might."

"Roth would like it, I'm sure." Shura stood up and whispered, "Between you and me, I think the man likes you..."

Evie had to stop herself from grinning. Shura was more right than he knew.

"I'll think about it," she said.

"Come on, Evie! You should come! Besides, it's said to be a good match as Donald's fighter is some huge orc who's never lost a match. He's originally from the south." Shura cracked the knuckles of his hands. "So, I hope Roth will kick his ass and give him his first defeat!"

"Some huge unknown man?" Evie asked. Should she be worried now? "Very well, if I don't have a patient, I will come to watch."

***

The crowd went wild, waiting for their champion. Roth was a favorite, Evie already knew that, but today, it felt more special. Roth was now her... boyfriend. Was that the correct term? She giggled.

Her boyfriend.

"Someone is in a happy mood..."

Evie flinched at the sudden voice in her ear. Hot breath tickled her skin until she was covered in goosebumps, but they weren't the pleasant kind of goosebumps.

"Oh," she breathed out, turning her head to look over her shoulder. "Good evening, Carlisle."

"I didn't know you were interested in watching." He stepped next to her and pointed at the still empty battleground. "Have I been wrong about that?"

She shook her head. "No, you're not wrong. I usually don't watch."

"Yet, now you're here."

"Yes, uh... Shura persuaded me because it's a special game, apparently?"

"It is." Carlisle grabbed his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, and lit it. He took a drag. "Donald thinks his new man can beat my best man."

"And what do you think?"

"Not a chance." He took another drag and puffed out a cloud of smoke.

For once, Carlisle's confidence felt good.