“So, tell me about yourself, Tenuk.”
Tenuk didn’t answer at first. He was busy watching the handful of Ksithans work. He was standing on a stool, being measured up. When it came to the Twelve, most species were either scaly or furry, not both. Tenuk himself was very furry, with long ears, four eyes and a large, fluffy collar around his neck, wrists and ankles. These Ksithans though, some were furry all over, some had bare skin on their chests, others had scales running down their backs.
“Tenuk?”
“Uh, sorry. There’s not really much to say!” Tenuk smiled awkwardly, turning his attention to the Raptor. Whether she was furry or scaly or not, he couldn’t tell. She always wore a black, baggy hoodie and baggy jeans, with leather armour on top. Her hood would obscure most of her face, but Tenuk was pretty sure he spotted blue eyes in there somewhere.
“How comes? You are a long-lived Spast, surely you have something to say.”
The other Ksithans started backing away. They were measuring him up so they could make some armour for him, something that would survive his ability to shapeshift. Like most Spasts, Tenuk just wore a basic, elasticated robe, enchanted with special magics that kept his clothes on his body whenever he shapeshifted. He honestly wasn’t really sure how it worked himself. But the fact that they were sorting out armour for him made things quite tricky, since, well, Spasts had never really needed armour. They were a peaceful race, aside from a handful of run-ins with the Whenvern Himself.
That being said, while the Spasts were peaceful, they were almost certainly one of the bigger consumers of arena combat. They were just not the sort to get their hands dirty.
“I think… you think I am a lot older than I am.”
“How old are you?”
“57. I turn 58 in September.”
Tenuk was pretty sure the Raptor was blinking in confusion underneath that hood of hers.
“You are… not much older than Retvik?”
“Technically just a kid. A kid with plenty of amnesia. I mean, physically and mentally, I am an adult, just a young one. But to compare it to something you’re more familiar with, I’m a teenager.”
The Raptor didn’t seem too pleased by this, but quickly let the age subject drop. “So you have amnesia.”
“Yeah…” Tenuk watched a Ksithan rummage through a nearby box, looking for fabric. Most of the materials in this room were of the same colour. “Do we have to wear green?”
“If you do well, if the crowds like you, then we will set you up in your own team colours. But for now, you will wear the colour of standard house fighters.”
Tenuk thought to himself, trying to recall which house fighters DIDN’T wear green. The only gladiator he could think of was Retvik. Even the Happy Cold, one of the Arena’s veterans, still wore green.
“I guess we’ll be wearing green forever, then?”
“Just for now. Tell me about your amnesia.”
“Well…” Tenuk trailed off, again thinking to himself. He didn’t want to lie too much. Made it hard to cover his own tracks. “There’s this thing called formified amnesia. Happens when you shapeshift too much while not fully conscious. Turns out it doesn’t mix well with god-given healing abilities. Should have been temporary but now it’s permanent.”
“That is unfortunate. You were caught in those hotel explosions, yes?”
Tenuk nodded.
“Are you sure you are not the lost High Prince?”
This time, Tenuk laughed awkwardly. “The High Prince, gods bless his spirit, was red and silver. I’m clearly not red and silver.”
“Was?”
“Well, I assume he’s dead.”
“They never found his body.”
Tenuk didn’t have a snappy response for that.
“Are you not telling me something?” the Raptor asked, her voice unwavering.
“I swear, I am not the High Prince, if that’s what you’re asking!” Tenuk really didn’t like lying this much. “It’s kinda insulting that you made such a comment in the first place. Us Spasts are a very colourful race. Lots of different colours of fur. Even if we all start out white.”
The Raptor grunted, as two Ksithans approached her, whispering so that Tenuk couldn’t hear them. She then quickly shooed them away and turned her attention back to Tenuk.
“The good news is that we should be able to sort out some armour for you. The bad news, it will only just be ready for your match on Friday. It should be delivered to you Friday morning.”
Tenuk just shrugged. “Well, as long as I have armour, that’s fine. Can’t be out fighting in the nude now, can I?”
The Raptor didn’t answer at first, as if she was seriously considering the idea of nude battles. Eventually though, she turned her attention back to Tenuk.
“So you genuinely have no idea who you are.”
“No clue.”
“You have no identity, nothing.”
“Well, it’s not that bad. I have a bank account but I was clearly a loner student with no friends to speak of. No family either, since most of us lose our mothers in childbirth… Why do you not seem to believe me?”
“Why should I, Tanos?”
Tenuk sneered. “I am NOT Tanos tou Ahvran! My name is Tenuk! I just happen to have amnesia! It’s a thing that Spasts sometimes get, due to how shapeshifting can squish your brain! Why are you battering me with all these questions and not listening to my answers?”
“Because Spasts are known liars…” the Raptor frowned. “I just want to make sure that I will not get an angry ruler bashing down my door because I offered a job to someone.”
“I suppose that happens a lot when you run an interspecies arena which people use to sort out their differences rather than going to war?” Tenuk asked.
“Indeed.”
Tenuk didn’t say anything else, he instead just stood there and stared at the Raptor.
“You may leave now, Tenuk.”
“Thanks…” Tenuk tutted as he got down from the stool and made his way to the door.