Timik felt off as he entered the Parthenon Arena. It was evening, the shadows were long and the sun was slowly setting. As always, Timik was armed with his great sword, Crown Breaker, and his standard little pistol. More and more matches were requiring ranged weapons now, which bothered Timik because his aim wasn’t the greatest, and he didn’t want to give up Crown Breaker for a combined melee and ranged weapon like a Rethan gunstaff.
What bothered Timik more currently was that he had no idea who he was fighting against. He had been secretly challenged, which meant he wouldn’t know who he was fighting until that person revealed themselves. So right now, Timik was just wandering around, waiting to be attacked, and he was holding his sword defensively in anticipation.
A gong echoed across the arena, but the announcers hadn’t said who the mystery challenger was. They did seem incredibly excited though, so Timik guessed he was fighting another house fighter. That was fine, he had fought most of them and beaten most of them. Levik was the only person he hadn’t fought, but Levik wasn’t a particularly confident fighter yet (at least, not against much more experienced predator race gladiators like Timik). That being said, the stealthiness was more of a Levik thing. Being a Spast, Levik often relied on tricking enemies and catching them off guard, generally by shapeshifting into something larger or smaller than expected.
As no one had approached yet, Timik moved to the centre of the arena, so he could claim a better area to defend. He was still feeling uneasy, mostly because he hadn’t seen anyone yet. But as Timik stepped briefly into a shadow, he felt something tug at his leg.
“AHAH!” Timik shouted as he quickly moved away from the shadow. “I KNEW something was up! Come out, mystery shadow beast!”
“Mystery? Hah…”
That voice sounded very familiar, even if it was distorted. Speaking while shadowjumping did mess up one’s voice, and particularly strong shadow-blessed Skyans could disguise themselves entirely in shadows.
“Psiksi, is that you?” Timik asked, suddenly feeling a little worried as a blade sliced into his tail while he moved past another shadow. The fading light meant Timik needed to finish this fight fast.
“Maybe.”
Uncertainty was making Timik sloppy. He tried to get to the better-lit areas but his tail passed into enough darkness that his opponent managed to grab hold of him. The sheer strength that pulled Timik back confirmed his theory that he was fighting Psiksi. Most Skyavok weren’t physically strong enough to fight back that hard., But Psiksi? He was something else.
Panic though began to set in as Timik felt himself being dragged into the darkness. He had had this happen to him before in the past, but Psiksi was dragging Timik through multiple shadows at a time. Back and forth. In and out. There was nothing. Everything was black and cold and airless briefly. There was nothing. He was nothing. He was-
Timik hit the ground with a thud, then only just managed to roll over to avoid being stabbed with his own sword, which, somewhere along the line, he had dropped. He wasn’t fast enough though to avoid being kicked in the face, which hurt pretty badly since Psiksi was wearing metal foot plates.
Disorientated, Timik only managed to scramble to his feet for a moment before being knocked over again. He did manage to grab his pistol and fire a few shots, one of which did clip Psiksi in the arm, but Timik had no idea if he hit armour or flesh. He did clearly piss Psiksi off though, since Psiksi kicked Timik’s gun away, threw away Timik’s sword then stamped on Timik’s stomach, several times in fact.
Lacking a weapon, Timik decided to claw at Psiksi’s leg then grab onto him as Psiksi stomped down yet again. Psiksi retaliated by stabbing a dagger into Timik’s arm, then disabling his arm completely by burying the blade into the inside of Timik’s elbow. It seemed that Psiksi had a lot of daggers on him (but no ranged weapon) and he just kept on stabbing Timik until Timik gave up fighting back.
A small beep sounded from Timik’s health meter, followed by the gong echoing across the arena. Timik stared up rather helplessly as the floodlights all switched on, properly illuminating the arena and revealing the person who had just ruined Timik’s new streak. But also revealing the newest Triumphant Champion. Timik closed his eyes, waiting for Psiksi to finish him off and teleport him out of the arena.
Psiksi raised his own blade high. But there was a smile underneath Psiksi’s mohawk helmet. The blade came down, but embedded itself in the ground next to Timik. Psiksi coughed several times, then reached out and pulled Timik a bit so he was sitting up, no longer lying on his back.
“Congrats, Psiksi…” Timik muttered, nursing his wounds. “That was mean though.”
“Sorry, dude. But I wanted my last match to be a surprise!” Psiksi grinned.
“Wait… last match?”
Timik glanced at Psiksi’s sword, which was nearly as large as Timik’s sword. Wrapped around the handle was Psiksi’s health meter wristband. The universal symbol of a retiring gladiator.
“It’s been fun, but I’m getting older and I’m not getting better. With you beaten again, Tanok being house master and Ct’Era not doing 1v1 matches, it’s going to be a long-ass time before someone else can get a 300 match win streak. I’m quitting while I’m ahead, I’m throwing in the towel now that I’ve done what I wanted to do.”
“You… you are quitting?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
Psiksi shrugged. He patted Timik on the shoulder, still smiling, but with a tear in his eye. “I ain’t gonna beat Retvik’s record, but I think I’ve done enough. I proved my skill and strength. It’s time to move on now.”
Timik stuttered. “But… but what about the Triumphant Crown ceremony?”
“HAH!” Psiksi laughed as he walked off. “You can send me my crown through the mail. I’ll pop you a message with my new address once I’m cleaned up. Good luck with your new team with Abius, Levik and Kass! You’ll all do great.”
With that, Psiksi disappeared through a shadow, off to enjoy his new, calmer future.