Billy and the other man, Barry, stood in the cage, and Xaxac felt what it was like to be part of a crowd. The cheering, the stomping, the energy moved through him, and despite what Lee had said, despite not knowing the rules of the game or what had to be done to win, he knew that Billy could do it, he wanted Billy to do it, and if he did, it would give Xac a sense of pride for reasons that he could not begin to understand.

A bell rang out, and both men began to pace, watching each other intently as the crowd seemed to calm a little. But the sudden lack of energy meant something too, and Xac felt the tension climbing within him until he couldn’t stand it and moved closer, beside Agalon, to grab the cage from the side and watch to see what would happen.

“Keep your hands up!” Agalon demanded as if he shouldn’t have to say it, “the hell are you doing? You’re wide open!”

But Billy didn’t put his hands up. He didn’t seem at all afraid that he might get hit, and it confused Xaxac. Agalon was right, he was very likely to get hit in the face, and Xac knew from first hand experience how badly that could hurt.

He thought, for a moment, that they were just going to pace-

But Agalon had gone mad if he thought Billy was slow.

He took off at a sprint with no provocation, and Xac thought there was no way that Barry could have predicted it, but somehow he did. He planted his feet and hunkered down, and Xac suddenly understood what Billy had tried to do with the charge. If he had hit in the torso it would have knocked Barry off his feet, but Barry had predicted it, so instead they both went down and began to grapple, tossing and turning through the field until they were both covered in grass and dirt, and Xac did not understand why he was screaming.

“Get on top of him!” he shrieked, and that seemed to be the consensus from the crowd as well, but he knew so little about combat that he could not have said with certainty whether or not this was good advice, it just seemed practical.

“Get up!” Agalon snapped.

“Get up!” Xaxac echoed, because Agalon was probably right.

“Don’t let him up!” Shyrrik screamed from his side, and Xaxac remembered he existed. He had forgotten.

“Dumbass,” Agalon snarled and screamed, “Get up now! Don’t stay down!”

Xaxac wished he knew how the fight was won, because as it was, he had a lot of energy and no idea what to do with it.

Then suddenly Billy was on top, and Xac watched as he wrapped his hands around Barry’s throat, brought his torso up, and slammed the back of his head into the ground.

Xac was close enough to hear the crunch.

There was something wrong with him.

That noise should have turned his stomach; it should have sent a wave of fear through his body from his brain to his extremities; he should have known, in his soul, that this was a very bad thing.

But the crowd screamed and began to chant, and Xac felt a spring pooling in his gut and his pants, and he was close enough to see the way Billy’s eyes looked, and for the first time he truly understood what the elves meant when they called humans animals.

“Whoop his ass!” Xac yelled, “Fuckin kill him!”

Barry was dazed, but like most living things, he did not want to die. It was possible his vision swam from the head wound, and that is why none of the punches he tried to throw to his opponent’s head landed as Billy slammed him into the grass again and again until there was no grass, until each slam sent up a wave of dust.

Xac took in everything as if time had slowed, and he had to admire what he saw. Billy knew exactly what he was doing, and Xaxac tried to understand every detail. The way he had pinned him was brilliant- he wasn’t sitting on his torso, as Xac had originally thought, but on his thighs- that meant Barry couldn’t knee him in the back, and Billy kept moving, slamming with his torso from the waist up, not just his arms, so that he became a moving target and much more difficult to hit.

Not that he wasn’t being hit.

He was, just not in the face, and Xac thought he understood that, too. Barry was smashing Billy’s torso with both fists, so hard Xac already saw bruises forming, and he suspected that by tomorrow Billy would be swollen, sore, useless- but right now? Right now the broken blood pooling below his flesh looked strangely beautiful, earned, and the way he ignored it, as if he couldn’t feel it, as if it didn’t matter, made him seem like a god.

“You fuck with the bull!” Billy screamed, loud enough for the crowd to hear, “You get the horns!”

The crowd erupted at this, and Xaxac joined them.

Billy had let go of Barry’s throat to make this proclamation, which Xac thought was a tactical error, especially after Billy hopped to his feet, as if he was in no pain, as if his injuries meant nothing. But Barry didn’t get up, he was too dazed from the head wound to move as quickly, and by the time he had staggered up on his elbows, Billy had turned, hopped, and jumped.

He slammed down with his full body weight onto Barry’s stomach, landing hard on both elbows, and Xac saw blood as Barry turned to vomit.

His hair was matted with it, and there was something wrong inside of him.

There was also something wrong with Xaxac, because he should know this was wrong. He should not be enjoying this. Billy was right, he had nothing to worry about. This was not a fight. This was a bloodbath.

Before Barry could make it to his feet, convulsing and shaken as he was, Billy bent at the knees and grabbed him, one hand on the throat and the other on the groin, and Xac remembered when Billy had grabbed him by the leg- he had enough time to realize what was going to happen before it did. Billy lifted the man, easily four times Xac’s weight, raised him above his head, and threw him hard onto the ground, right on his back.

Xac had landed on his shoulder and broken it, shattered his arm, messed up the socket- Barry had landed on his back.

Xac shrieked along with the crowd, and began to chant, cupping his hands around his mouth in the hopes that Billy would hear him, in particular.

“Olè Bil-ley, Olè Bil-ley!”

“Get up!” Shyrrik demanded, “Get up, now!”

“Stay down.” Billy commanded, and Xac knew that it was not meant for the crowd. It wasn’t even meant for him. It was meant for Barry, and Barry alone. “Stay down or die.”

The loud man began to count, but Xaxac did not process the numbers in any meaningful way. He heard but did not understand Barry’s master screaming at him to get up. He only smelled the blood and sweat, the metal of the cage, and he could not take his eyes off of Billy. He exuded the kind of confidence that was intimidating and comforting all at once, the kind that Xaxac had never seen on a human. In that moment, in front of that crowd chanting his name, Billy was the most powerful person in the arena, maybe even more powerful than the elves. He didn’t feel pain. He didn’t feel fear. And covered in sweat, filth, and the blood of his opponent he was so beautiful Xaxac thought the desire would physically hurt him, would rip him apart from the inside out.

“The winner!” The loud man proclaimed, “William, ‘Billy the Bull’ OfAgalon!”

Xac thought he screamed louder than anyone else, because he was sure Billy saw him as he posed, looking so happy for the first time, all teeth and shining eyes with his bright smile as he threw both arms into the air. He had been looking at the crowd, but he turned for the gate, and they locked eyes, and Xac knew he saw genuine warmth, genuine joy there.

“He was slow,” Agalon said as he opened the gate and walked into the cage to the delight of the crowd.

Billy walked out with him, but Barry had to be dragged out. His master didn’t try to do it himself; he might have scried someone, or maybe just motioned, but two earth elves dressed like the soldiers Agalon had hired pulled Barry from the cage. Xaxac only saw them from his peripheral; his eyes were glued to Billy, and as soon as he was through the gate, Xac turned and lept into his arms, wrapped his legs around his torso and his arms around his neck, and began to beg.

“Aggie, please, please, please, please,” he repeated on a loop, and Billy laughed, pried him away, and threw him over his shoulder.

“Put him down,” Agalon ordered, “Wyatt, you’re next, Billy, give me my pleasure slave and go back to see the vet. I’m a medic and I can see broken ribs.”

“Please please please please,” Xaxac begged, “please Aggie, please let me-”

“Xac hush,” Agalon said with his face scrunched up in confusion, and Xaxac didn’t even care that he had used his name.

“Please!” Xac begged in frustration, “You said I could fuck um if they win, please, Thesis above please-”

“Oh my god, whatever,” Agalon snarled, “Fine, take him with you. But we’re-”

“Who’s ready for our next match!?” The loud man asked, and the crowd erupted.

“Shit,” Agalon snarled, glanced to the place he was supposed to be walking to and snapped his fingers, “Lee, go with them! Watch them like a hawk!”

“Yes master,” Lee sighed as if he was being asked to perform some kind of chore, but Xaxac didn’t care. He cared about very little.

“Oh my god, that was amazing,” he said as Billy carried him with seemingly no effort, “Holy shit you killed him. You killed him.”

“That’s just the preliminaries, you pretty little thing,” Billy chuckled, “You ain’t seen nothin yet.”

“Are your bones broke?” Xac asked, aware that he was being controlled by some sort of mania he didn’t understand, the same kind that had come over him the first time he had seen the fighters train, “How are you walkin? How are you carryin me? Broke bones hurt so bad, oh my god, are you immortal? How do you not care? How!?”

“You’re babblin,” Billy laughed, and it held genuine mirth, and Xaxac loved the sound of it.

“Just fuck me!” Xac demanded, “I can’t stand it!”

“Xaxac!” Lee admonished, “I know you’re a pleasure slave, but… Thesis’s eyes.”

“There’s something wrong with me!” Xac snarled at him, angry that he had tried to break through the cloud he was riding.

“Leave him alone, butler,” Billy said, and Xac saw fear flash ever so briefly over Lee’s eyes as Billy carried him into the stable where the fighters were staying.