From the Ashes

Chapter 4: Foul Play

Facing Xander, I felt a surge of adrenaline make my fingertips tingle. I was no longer fighting to prolong my life, but actually save it.

"Three... two... one... BEGIN!"

I could tell Xander wasn't expecting the speed at which I moved. Like all Undead without much practice, he moved jerkily. He was stronger than me, but I was quicker. I soon found, after almost breaking my wrist from deflecting a blow, that my best strategy would be to dodge. I ducked just in time as his sword cleaved the air above me. It would have cut me in half if I had stayed upright.

I gathered all my strength and courage and blocked out the crowd, striking and dodging and weaving and deflecting, driving him slowly but steadily into the row of seats that held the citizens. I saw the panic on their faces as he kept retreating and I kept advancing. As I knew they would, they pushed him away from them, not keen on risking their lives. The momentary imbalance caused him to topple over, and I stabbed him clean through the heart with my blade.

It was over so quickly, just like my previous match, that I almost couldn't believe my fortune. I looked around, the cheers of the crowd pressing in on my ears. Ahran and Reo were both duelling against Luke, who seemed to have figured out this ploy. He was using one scimitar to battle one player each, but I could see he was tiring. Ahran, too, wielded scimitars, and Reo was skilful with the dagger. As the battle came to its climax, Reo swiped his dagger, cutting off Luke's hand, and a scimitar with it.

The crowd gasped. Luke seemed more confused than in pain- it was odd to see before I remembered that Undead didn't feel physical pain. In his momentary lapse of concentration, Luke didn't block Ahran when she forced her scimitar through his heart.

Reo, do it now! I thought. Whilst Ahran was occupied, he should take care of her. She had two blades and his dagger had very little reach.

Reo seemed to realise this now, and buried his blade into her back. She stiffened, then collapsed on top of Luke, face-down. One of the scimitars rolled out of her limp fingers; the other was in Luke's chest.

Reo stood there, panting. Then he leant forwards and turned her body over.

Ahran's face contorted into a smirk as she leapt up, pulling her scimitar from Luke's heart and burying into his chest. The dagger blade had been too short to reach her heart. She had not been unanimated at all.

The crowd screamed at this. I felt as if someone had ripped out my heart. For a moment, I had been so certain that Reo had won. I didn't want to see the look on his parents' faces. If he'd buried the blade deeper, if he'd chosen a sword or scimitars, if he'd stabbed twice to make sure the job was done, he would still be alive.

"And in a surprising twist of fate, Ahran comes out victorious!" Ashbluff boomed.

But he was wrong.

As he spoke, Ahran's face changed. Her shoulders hunched, and she started coughing violently. More blood than there should have been trickled from the wound at her back. It had punctured her heart- just not deep enough to cause instant death. As it failed on her, she sank to the ground, coughing.

"What's this?" Ashbluff said into the microphone. I hated him. Of course he knew what was happening. "What is happening?"

Ahran's coughs became twitches, and then shivers. Then nothing.

All three of them lay, dead and broken, in the coliseum.

"Oh my God," said Ashbluff. "All three of them! Dead! What a surprise!"

The crowd's cheers intensified in volume. I wanted to punch all of them, including Ashbluff.

"And it's Ash and Avery, the last two duellers whose battles have not yet concluded. Who will triumph?"