THE CHAMPION

Mere flesh and blood after all. I feel like screaming! I want to scream so loud, that your dead ears would burst.
Renna still held the sword over the lifeless body of her challenger. As she took out her blade and cleaned it with the dead boy's clothes, she couldn't help but think again how handsome the kid was. She was only dimly aware of the crowd cheering, or the judges beckoning her to collect the most prestigious medal this side of Meisia. She just stood there, blade on shoulder, cursing under her breath.

I feel cheated somehow. I was obsessed with you.
The dead boy's lifeless body was covered with blood. But there was something of him that still lingered on his face. Renna sighed.

I would watch your every fight, and I had been thinking that finally, here was some bloody champion who would give me stiff competition. I am disappointed, son of Neur.

Looking back, I started taking notice of you when I happened to come across that fight of yours with the Neheilm brute. He was a beast. You had no right to even survive that fight, let alone win! He pretty much levelled you to the ground. I turned to walk away after he smashed your head against the rock like that. You should have died a dozen times over in that one fight alone, son of Neur. Yet, by some sorcery, you kept getting up every time. You had to be more than a mere man to do that.
Disappointment. That's what I feel. There is nothing else I take from this victory.

Then there was that fight with the Dragon of the Trikon. I hadn't expected him to turn into an actual dragon. Who would? A dragon? Really? And when he did, I was sure you were a dead man. Really, a dragon! Even I don't know how I would fare against something from the legends themselves.

You surprised us again, son of Neur. The dragon kept circling overhead, out of reach and kept showering you with those thick, blue flames. Burned to­ a crisp, I could smell burning flesh, and yet you fought on. You baited the Dragon into coming low enough for you to grab on to those damned talons. The talons should have ripped you apart. Instead, I watched the mighty Dragon being ripped apart by its own claws.

Or that fight with the Keizr Hemm, 30 to 1 were the odds, if I remember correctly. He was another interesting character. He was everything you were not. He would stomp enemies two minutes into the fight well and dry, where you would always come in as the underdog, frustrate the enemy for long enough and then kill them, to their own disbelief.
And you beat him too. You beat him too. You...
Hemm didn't look particularly attractive then. You, on the other hand, looked more and more attractive by the second. You went on to beat everyone.
You were immortal!
So what the hell is wrong with you now? Get up! GET UP! Work that magic of yours and come back from the realm of the dead. Come back and fight.
The body did not move.
You were supposed to be the one.
A tear fell down her cheek. She turned and walked towards the dug-out.
I bloody loved you.
One of the judges came to her and gave her the medal when they realized she wasn't going to collect it. She didn't bother reading the inscription on it. She just took it and walked away. Maybe someday, she would find her champion.