A Place To Bloom

The Master Says

A Na'uhui kid crouched on his knees at one side of the stone circle. His eyes were closed, and he held his hands out on both sides with his palms up.

Perfectly still.

Across from him was a Herali with a Cougar brand on his right shoulder and four lines of scar from a bear paw across his chest. He cracked his knuckles and jerked his head back and forth.

Ta'o stepped between them, and the crowd fell silent. The kid bowed to his opponent, and Ta'o gave the word. "pime!"

Haron swung a fist.

The kid grabbed his arm, twisted him around, flipped him over, and rolled him off the edge.

A thousand people jumped to their feet and filled the twilight with a ruckus of cheers and jeers.

"How the hell?" After the beating he gave me...

Dashuni sat beside me laughing. She'd removed her prosthetic leg and scratched the stump with her good hand. "Outside the Study is a garden with flowers and herbs. One day, while approaching the Study, the Master sees that the garden is destroyed. The bricks are broken, the flowers and herbs are uprooted and thrown about. Later that day, a man comes and says 'it was I who destroyed your garden!' The disciples are all angry. They want to punish the man. What does the Master say?"

I took a moment to think about that, rubbing the spot where Haron almost dislocated my jaw earlier. "Huh?"

Her face erupted in laughter.

Ta'o took the center of the arena; his light-blue silk yithi had a silver criss-cross pattern that sparkled in the lanternlight. He turned slowly around with both hands out until the throng quieted down, then gave a subtle wink towards the woman beside me.

Dashuni fought to contain a blush.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Humans and vɪta'o! Our last fight this evening will decide the final berth in tomorrow night's top eight!" He held out his hand to one side. "Standing at one-hundred-eighty-eight seʃoða and weighing one-hundred-six kivo, fresh from the Lake of Doom with an 8-2 record including five tiyo, Captain of the Orca Clan, Dax of Kyoen!"

Dax's team and a few other Kyoni jumped to their feet and cheered, but the bulk of the crowd was silent.

"And over here..."

The crowd rose to their feet, and the noise rose with them.

"...standing at one-hundred-eighty-seven seʃoða and weighing one-hundred-seven kivo, you know him, you love him, the Fighting Falcon from the foothills of Ozaria..."

Cheers grew so loud I could barely hear the rest.

"... thirty-five-to-three with seventeen tiyo..."

Squawks and chirps from more than a handful of vita'o mingled with the crescendo.

"Hagar of Giorian!"

All throughout the amphitheater, fists pumped the air in unison. "Haaa-gar! Haaa-gar! Haaa-gar!"

I'd seen him before; he'd arrived some months before I did. His body was heavy, covered in powerful muscle, and his face looked like he'd been in a few fights. He stretched his heavy arms out and rolled his thick neck around across from Dax, whose muscular back wore that red-and-black tattoo of Orca from shoulder to shoulder.

The girl came back with the writing tab and looked at my friend in expectation.

Dashuni handed her three brass five-krens. "Hagar."

The girl took the money and turned to me.

Some gift. Ranía said she could read micro-cues and predict the outcome. A man who favors his left side too much, or puts an unusual proportion of weight on his right foot. She could read the emotional state in his face. Apparently, the last time she tried to bet on a fight, they cancelled it and sent her away. I, on the other hand, was down to my last twenty-two kren, so I handed her the sixteen I'd earned for getting my face smashed in. "Dax."