《Reborn as a Dragon Tamer》6. Exhibition Match
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The lady at the ticket counter gawked openly at Tiberius as she took my ten coppers. “What kind of crystal did you use on that one?”
I startled out of trying to peer past her to get a glimpse of the fighting arena beyond. “What?”
She gestured to Tiberius who preened from his perch on my shoulder. “I’ve never seen a tamed dragon with eyes like that before.”
Were they weird? I glanced over at my little friend. Instead of normal color irises, his eyes shimmered with a multicolored opal opulence.
Okay, I guess it was a little strange. But so was the fact he was a foxlike dragon.
“I used an opal crystal,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “For real? How did you get your hands on an opal? It took me an entire year to save up to emerald for my little Marshy over there.”
She gestured to the side. Her “little” marshy was snoozing in the sun nearby and easily the size of a cart-horse. Swampy green with brown patterning, it was a ridiculously round dragon – like looking at a water balloon filled up to its max, with pokey little feet, and an arrow-shaped head and tail sticking out on either side. There weren’t any wings visible, and unless the dragon was filled with air I didn’t think it would be much of a flier.
“Who’s my good boy?” the ticket lady cooed as I stared.
Hearing her voice, the Marshy dragon rumbled lowly and cracked open its lids. The eyes were a vivid, unearthly green.
It looked like the bonding crystal reflected in the eyes of the creature. Good to know. I just thought Tiberius had beautiful eyes because of his breed.
“I got lucky,” I said. It was the truth.
“Are you going to duel him?” she breathed. “Marshy is. That’s why I’m here at the booth–my pay will cover my entrance fee.”
“He just hatched,” I hedged, uncomfortably aware that winning a duel was a quest requirement. Thankfully, there wasn’t a timer on the quest. I’d give him time to grow up a little.
She blinked. “What does that matter?”
Oookay. I quickly changed the subject. “What’s the dueling fee?”
“Silver and a half.”
Which meant entering would take the rest of my money and I would still be a few coppers short thanks to this ticket.
“I’m just scoping out the competition right now,” I said, aware that a young family had stepped into line behind me. I was in danger of holding them up. “But I’ll wish you luck from the stands.”
She beamed. “Thanks! We’ve been training really hard.” Then she seemed to remember she was supposed to be doing a job and handed me a stub of paper as a receipt. The word “ticket” was written out and torn in half. Nothing printed. Seemed like these people did things low tech.
Limping past her booth, I joined the gathering audience.
The dueling arena itself wasn’t very impressive. Probably because this was a small town. It was a corral-like structure with bare earth in the middle. The fence itself was made of wooden slats. Two stands of wooden bleachers stood on either side, set up in a way that reminded me of a high school basketball game. They stood four rows high. The top and bottom rows were already filled, so I took a seat in the middle. From there, I could people-watch.
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I was not the only person with a dragon companion. In fact, most people were accompanied by dragon-like creatures small and large. If the dragon couldn’t fit on a person’s shoulder, it either sat beside them on the bleachers or off on a grassy area where both could still get an excellent view of the arena.
Now that I was looking for it, the tamed versions had eyes of three colors: Green, blue, and purple. A couple flashed red. These were beside the best-dressed people. Green eyes were by far the most common.
Emerald Crystals, I remembered, and while I waited for the show to begin, I cracked open the book.
Emerald was listed on one of the first pages. It was listed under the Basic Crystals category.
Quartz, emerald, sapphire, amethyst, ruby, gold and platinum.
That was the same order the tanner had used to grade his wares. I sensed a theme.
There was a helpful chart.
Quartz - 0 Special Attacks
Emerald - 1 Special Attack
Sapphire - 2 Special Attacks
Amethyst - 3 Special Attacks
Ruby - 4 Special Attacks
Gold - 5 Special Attacks
Platinum - 5+ Special Attacks
My nose was firmly stuck in the book, and it took the loud voice from the announcer to jerk it back out again.
The bleachers had filled considerably as I read. I now sat next to a pair of giggling teenagers about my age. Each had a little sparrow-like dragon on their shoulders. The same tiny type I’d noticed going after the water trough in town. Only, unlike the wild dragons, these eyes flashed a brilliant green.
More emerald, then.
My attention was drawn back to the arena. The man who stood in the middle would not have looked out of place as an 1800’s era circus ringmaster. He rocked a brown three-piece suit and a matching top hat.
Raising a rolled-up tube like a bullhorn to his mouth, he called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Seedy Orchard’s spring dragon duels!”
A roar of appreciation went up from the audience. Tiberius flinched in surprise, but after a few seconds he seemed to figure out there wasn’t a threat. He muttered an excited ‘cheep’ in my ear.
“The first five rounds today will be from our tournament elite!” the man cried. “And of course, this is only a taste of what is to come. Tomorrow, we will open the arena for anyone brave enough to come in and try their hand at dragon dueling. You’ll want to stick around for that, folks. The winners of tomorrow’s duels will win exciting rewards!”
Ah, I caught onto their angle now. Today’s duels were exhibition fights. I bet they’d pull their punches and make it look like amateurs could beat them. Tomorrow, the gloves would come off. The ticket prices would be more than ten copper, too.
I also felt a sense of premonition. The announcer had just promised prizes and the quest had been very clear that a gold crystal was on the line for winning a duel…
But Tiberius was twenty-four hours old. I didn’t think he should be competing. Did they have stand-in dragons? Was I supposed to go out and get another dragon from the forest before I returned to kick ass?
Should I be thinking of this world with video game rules? Or was it going to be more messy and real?
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“Your first competitors,” the announcer yelled, “Dueler Ashland and his brave Sharp Wing verses Dueler Terry with his terrifying Death Strike!”
The crowd roared again. The arena gates opened and two dragons sauntered out, all confidence.
They were both the size of a large motorcycle but shaped very differently.
The Sharp Wing had two thick hind legs and four sets of bladelike wings. It used the first set for movement on the ground, hunching like a gorilla. The second set lay tucked against its sides. It was uniform metallic gray except for its beaky muzzle which was a hazard-cone orange. The eyes were startlingly blue – probably tamed using a sapphire crystal.
The second dragon had more of what I thought as a traditional western shape. Jet black from nose to tail, it had four limbs and two wings. A line of ridges extended from the top of its head to the end of its sinuous tail. Its eyes blazed with the red of a ruby crystal.
The dragons were not harnessed or managed in any way. Both stopped calmly just inside their gates as if they were trained to wait.
The announcer cried out, “Let’s hear it from the competitors!” He paused for yells of appreciation from the audience then gestured to the side, “And let us not forget about their hard-working trainers!”
More clapping and yells. And... this was where things got weird.
Two men stepped upon podiums on either side of the arena outside the fence. A reedy-looking guy for the Sharp Wing, a balding paunchy dude for the Death Strike. They waved to the audience and then stood on the podium in front of which stood two milky white crystals about as wide and tall as a bottle of soda.
“Duelists are you ready?” the announcer cried.
Each trainer raised his hand.
“Take your position!”
Simultaneously, both men stepped forward and wrapped their hands around the crystals. Their eyes flashed so brightly I could see it from my spot on the stands. Blue for the Sharp Wings’ Trainer, red for the Death Strike.
And they remained glowing like they were lit from the inside.
Abruptly, both dragons raised their heads to the sky and roared out a challenge.
I leaned forward. “What the hell is going on?”
“The Sharp Wing’s going to kick the Death Strike’s butt!” one of the girls beside me cheered. “Go Sharp Wing! Woo!”
The announcer led the audience on a count down from three. “Three... Two... One... Fight!”
On ‘fight’, both dragons moved.
The Death Strike surged forward, mouth opening to reveal viper-like fangs. It struck at the Sharp Wing.
The Sharp Wing took to the air – the wings on its sides buzzing in a blur. It moved up into a hover like a living helicopter.
The Death Strike overcommitted its lunge, bringing it just below the Sharp Wing.
The flying dragon plunged, its glinting second set of wings pointed down like a pair of knives. The Death Strike slipped to the side just in time.
Once clear, the black dragon whipped around only to find the Sharp Wing back in the air. With another hiss, the Death Strike reopened its jaws. This time it spat a stream of green fluid at the Sharp Wing.
The Sharp Wing buzzed higher, but not high enough. There was a sizzling sound and the dragon roared out in pain. Some of the venom had hit, and it seemed to be acidic.
Meanwhile, the two trainers on either side of the arena stood eerily still, their hands wrapped around the crystals. Neither of them looked up to the dueling dragons. They stared straight ahead, blank-faced and eyes glowing.
The Death Strike seemed to remember that it had wings too. It leaped into the sky, each wing beating in a separate rhythm more like a bat than a bird. This was a mistake because the Sharp Wing was the master of the skies.
Its injury didn’t slow it down. With a buzz of the first pair of wings, it slashed at the Death Strike with its second pair–leaving a long bleeding gash.
Now it was the Death Strike’s turn to cry out. Quickly, it dived back to the ground. But the Sharp Wing pressed its advantage, following it down and slashing as it went.
The Death Strike snapped at its pursuer, poison glistening on the tips of its sharp fangs. It struck the Sharp Wings’ neck... and bounced off with a clang that made the audience ‘oohhh’ in sympathy.
The scales didn’t just look metallic. They were metallic!
The only way the Death Strike could win was to spit more acid. For whatever reason, it didn’t. Maybe it ran out, or maybe neither duelist wanted to put in too much effort for the exhibition duel.
In any case, once the Death Strike made it to the ground the battle was over.
The rotund trainer released his grip on the crystals and raised his hand. His eyes returned to normal.
“Terry and Death Strike concedes the match!” the announcer cheered.
In the arena, the Death Strike lurched back from its opponent, shaking its head and mewling. Several men in white tunics leaped in, foggy white dragons following. Within moments the Death Strike was shrouded in mist. When it parted a moment later, the dragon was whole – the wounds closed as if they never occurred.
Well, that was a positive. It was one thing to watch real life dragon fights... quite another to see them suffer afterward. It gave me a squirmy feeling in my stomach, like I was watching a cock or dog fight. Not something I wanted to support, even as a spectator.
Video games were one thing, but these were real animals down there and I wasn’t cool with watching them suffer.
The Sharp Wing, too, was receiving medical attention for its minor acid burns. Both trainers shook hands and then went to muzzle their dragons and led them out of the arena for the next match.
“What do you think those crystals are for?” I asked Tiberius.
“Cheep?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “You saw it, too? The stiff way the dragons moved in the air? Those moves were practiced. I bet the trainers had choreographed this ahead of time. They were directing those dragons like puppets. This stuff is real as a WWE wrestling match.”
Fake… except for the real blood and acid burns.
The announcer introduced a new pair of competitors to the waiting audience. Reaching up to pet Tiberius, I settled in to watch.
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