Chapter 14: After and Before

Miguel’s moment of defiance had caught his fellow contenders’ attention. From their places around the large square starting room, most sitting on benches, all eyes were on him.

But it didn’t last long.

Miguel stood for several seconds, arms folded, and could almost imagine an angry face staring back, even though the instructions came from a disembodied voice.

Then he heard:

“All contenders must sit down now, or they will immediately exit the competition.”

He grimaced, and then sighed. Surely he had come too far to get disqualified now for failing to obey an instruction?

And what would Bratislav say?

With a scowl and a shrug, Miguel slowly turned and sat. Nearby, Sid had sat up from his lying position, groaning as he did so.

At that moment, the room shimmered again, appearing to shrink. All six of the surviving contestants were still on the same benches, still in a square room. But this time, the other benches had disappeared, and the huge open area between them had shrunk considerably.

They were now in an area about the size of the neighborhood school classrooms that Miguel remembered from his childhood, and beside each bench a door with a contestant’s name upon it had appeared. Miguel looked around over his shoulder.

Yes. There was one with his name, too.

“The trials are over for today,” announced the guide. “But the game continues. Contenders, congratulations on your progress. You will now find behind you a door leading to a suite, where there is a bathroom, a bedroom, and a rest area where you can relax and get changed. You should take all of your equipment with you; anything that you leave in the common area will be accessible to your rivals, but items inside your own suites cannot be taken from your inventory.”

Miguel had continued to remove his items, this time unstrapping and taking off his bronze helmet.

“Tomorrow,” the guide continued, “an alarm will sound, and you should at that point leave the door of your suite. When you do, you will enter the area for a final showdown.”

Curious, Miguel picked up his gear and then stood and pushed open the door with his name upon it. There was no catch; it swung open easily, and he took a step inside, allowing it to automatically close behind him. The first area had comfortable seating and some matting. What was that for, he wondered? Exercises?

He placed the chestplate and shield against the wall behind the main door, and put the helmet on the floor beside them. Then he walked through to check the bathroom and bedroom. Clean and tidy compared to what he was used to; nothing special, but comfortable enough.

As he walked back to the lounge area, he rubbed at the aching muscles of his arms. They might be virtual arms, but they responded just as might be expected if he had been fighting, shooting, climbing and punting a vessel in real life. Which was to say, his muscles hurt like hell.

Returning to the bathroom, Miguel noticed that there was a plain black robe hanging on the reverse of the door. He briefly looked around to see whether there was another of the baseball-sized drones. Would they observe him even here? It seemed possible – likely, even. But at the moment, he couldn’t see any of the devices. That didn’t rule out the possibility that he was being watched.

Well – let them enjoy the show. After all, it was only a virtual body.

He stripped off, and entered the shower.

Soon, Miguel was lounging on the matting inside his suite. He spent a few minutes gazing at the ring on his hand. It was a magical item, that was for sure, and one that the other contestants had either not had access to, or had failed to notice and pick up. He had always been very curious, and the pile of bones had caught his attention... Well, he probably should have left it alone, as messing with it had slowed down his progress towards the main task.

But things had somehow worked out.

Now, though, the thing was looking even more blackened than his axe. Perhaps it was the huge outpouring of energy which had helped him to defeat the demon, but the item was blackened, as if an electrical circuit inside it had blown.

And now, when he tried to get it to do something – shoot out a beam of light, perhaps – nothing happened. Maybe it was just because he wasn’t in a demon hunter arena right now. But still... Miguel felt deep down that he had expended any power that the thing might have had.

If there was a way to replenish it, he didn't know what it was.

Then, looking over at the shield where it leaned up against the wall, it occurred to him that its indentations were of a very similar size to the ring. Pulling it from his finger, he pressed it into one indentation, and it clicked neatly into place as if the gap was made for it.

What would this do, he wondered... He still felt sure that the ring was spent after the last task. But who knew? Perhaps it could still confer some kind of extra protection to his shield.

Then there came a knock, and he stepped over to his door, pulling it open and blinking.

At first there was no sign of anyone outside, but then Tarja lunged around the corner. She looked up at him with a broad smile, bobbing lightly from one foot to the other. Miguel hadn't previously noticed that her eyes were a deep green.

“Just checking you were all right, Shmoop,” she said. ”Wow. That was intense, right?”

“Uh, thanks. Didn't know you cared.”

She cackled loudly. “Very funny. You know, I’m not the bad person that you think I am, Miguel.”

“That’s... nice to know.”

She grinned. “Having said that, I will take you down tomorrow. I'll do what I have to.”

Miguel noticed that she was still wearing the bandolier of knives from her shoulder down to her hip. “Of course. I’m just surprised that you didn’t kill me already.”

“Yeah, well...” She narrowed her eyes and frowned slightly. “If I’d known you were going to get this far, I probably would have done. Back when Youssef was still with us. But here we are. Anyway, uh...” She paused and looked behind him, and then eyed him very deliberately up and down; he was conscious that he was now just wearing the light robe. “How’s your suite?”

“It’s all right thanks,” he said. “Nice to relax for a moment, but weird to think that we are actually wired up in one of the tech company’s rooms.”

She shrugged. “It’s a little... liberating, don’t you think?”

“Not so much, to be honest. I just feel like my every move is being observed.”

Tarja gave out one of her characteristic peals of laughter at this, but it sounded forced to Miguel’s ears. “Well, what did you think you’d signed up for?” she asked. She then leaned back on the doorframe, her green eyes glittering at him once again.

“All the same,” he said, “I’ll be glad when it’s over.” He stepped past her, walking out into the smaller-sized open area and looking around. None of the other contestants were currently anywhere to be seen, and all of the other doors were closed.

“Right... okay then,” murmured Tarja as she began to step away from him.

“Hey – good luck tomorrow.”

She paused, then gave a low chuckle. “Don’t need it. Skills.” With that she turned on her heel, walked towards her own door, and went inside.

Miguel stood in the classroom-sized area for another few moments, still in his robe. Had Tarja genuinely been concerned about him? He had no doubt that she would happily shoot him in the back come the morning’s trial. And it would be easy to assume that coming to his door like that was just another stunt, meant to draw attention and play for the watching publikum.

All the same.

Miguel mentally played over the day’s events. Tarja didn’t have to share with him the information that she knew ahead of the demon arena. She could have lied, tried to trip him up and get him killed. Yes, she had been openly hostile, but a part of him believed that there was a good person inside.

And she had seemed distressed when the demon had crushed Laticia.

But did Tara truly care about him, about Youssef, or any of them? It didn’t honestly feel like it. Not really. And although Chloe had been critical, even downright rude at times, he couldn’t help but feel that she would root for him, at least a little. Unlike the others, Chloe might actually hesitate to stick a sword in his back.

Not least because he had handed her the sword during the first trial.

As he reflected on the way his alliance with Chloe had got him through the early events, his eyes alighted on her name which was on the door diagonally opposite.

Chloe Králová.

He felt an impulse to speak to her, to debrief... but perhaps that would look bad. Unprofessional. Sloppy.

After all, Dana Kampion’s people would be watching. And wasn't that the point? To keep them on side, and win the prize?

But there was something else, for sure. A part of him wanted to show Bratislav and the others what kind of man he was. That he was more than just a small-time dealer. That he wasn’t the only one who could rise above Neighborhood 65F and make something of himself.

He looked again at the door. It occurred to him that he knew nothing about Chloe – not even the neighborhood that she came from. One thing was for sure though: the woman had guts.

Well... it was surely worth checking on her at least, he decided. She was an ally of sorts, after all, and he owed her a bit of consideration in light of how she had helped.

He walked over and knocked, then paused beside her door, listening, his hand raised and ready to knock again if need be.

After a brief moment there came a shout from inside, and then Chloe came to her door, opening it just a crack until it bumped up against her foot.

“Oh. It's you.”

“Hi. Um... Are you all right?”

She sniffed, and then blew aside a dark curl which had fallen across her face. She was also wearing one of the black robes. “All right? Sure. Why wouldn't I be? I've been training for this for months.”

Miguel nodded, reflecting that she looked quite different without her armor and weapons.

“You can't come in, you know,” Chloe added. “I need to prepare. Get my head in the right place, as well as resting up.”

Miguel nodded again, glancing over his shoulder and feeling very awkward to be standing in the now-deserted communal area with its floating spheres. “Oh, of course. I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just... I guess I don’t really prepare that way...”

“So, you mean to say that you’re bored.” She lowered her eyebrows, leaning forward and peering at him.

“No, it’s really not that. Just, well... I wanted to say that if you wanna team up again tomorrow, I’d be cool with that. I know that come the end, only one of us can win. But if you want to make sure we’re the last two standing...”

“Right. Okay then.” A slight shrug. Chloe had pulled back now, and was regarding him with an amused twinkle in her eye, but still unsmiling.

“Not that I know what we need to do, or anything,” he finished lamely.

Chloe chuckled, clutching the edge of the door in one hand and patting it with the other, her curls bouncing slightly as she did so.

This wasn’t going well, Miguel realized, and he was reminded of their first exchanges, when Chloe had seemed to be considerably more switched on than him, more knowledgeable about the game.

Unlike him, she had done her research.

“Ok, well – good night, then.” Miguel stepped back and turned away.

“Oh, Miguel,” she said, raising her voice, and he looked back once again.

“Yeah?”

“We haven’t faced a magical enemy yet. So I hope you put a few stat points into mana.”

With that, she winked at Miguel, and then swirled around, a move that revealed quite a lot of her figure. The door then swung shut, leaving Miguel alone.

Mana?

Miguel struggled to think back as he walked towards his own area. Did I...

And then he remembered. One. His mana score was one.