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Since Writer's Block Arena is all I've been posting here, I might as well keep them here on their own...
Enjoy my characters:


Name:Julianna
Nickname: Salem calls her “sis.”
Gender: Female
Age: 15
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Height: 5’ 4’’
Origin: Spring Valley, NV
Language(s): English
Race/Species: Human
Personality: Likes her brother Salem, boxing, and being right. Dislikes loudmouths, rogue dumpsters, and being wrong.
Strength(s): Her own physical fitness. She’s got a mean punch.
Weakness(s):Being hopelessly mortal and an incorrigible hothead.
Supernatural power(s)/ability(s): Getting offended really easily.


Name:Salem
Gender: Male.
Age: 18
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Height: 5’ 10’’
Origin: Spring Valley, NV
Language(s): English
Race/Species: Human
Personality: Likes his sister Julianna, his sword, and coming up with a good plan. Dislikes when anything harms his sword, anything harms Julianna, and any situation he can’t handle with his cool reason or swordsmanship.
Strength(s): He’s an excellent swordsman and a cool, calm, collected thinker.
Weakness(s): Is hopelessly mortal.
Supernatural power(s)/ability(s): Swordsmanship and planning.


Bio:Julianna and Salem have been living by themselves since their parents disappeared. Until recently they were living a somewhat normal life in their own apartment. There was one incident with a garbage dumpster that ran amok, but they don’t like to talk about that... Anyway, when they weren’t busy defeating rogue dumpsters they were having fun racing across the city. In one such race Julianna jumped onto a fire escape and “was dropped” onto an expensive car. Desperate to find money to pay for the damages, Julianna and Salem had to leave their apartment and find more jobs around the city. An opportunity came when Salem came across an advertisement for the Gordan Ran Fighting Arena. Now, fighting for the sole purpose of raising money to pay off the damages on a very expensive car, the two siblings are ready for fighting.

"Writer's Block Arena Contest: Mini-Contest Submission"

Julianna kicked a stone out in front of her irritably like a soccer ball. Kick, step step, kick, step step... “Any ideas?”
Salem shrugged. “Not really.”
“We need to make a decision.”
Salem smiled. “Then we’ll make one, obviously.”
“So what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking we need a place to spend the night.”
Julianna did a mini-explosion. “I hate it when you do that!”
“Sorry.”
Kick, step step. Kick, step step.
Salem broke the silence. “Listen, how about we just go find a church and sleep in the basement for the night? They’re bound to be open.”
Julianna snorted. “The day hasn’t dawned that I’d be willing to go near a church.”
“Just because the one priest said you were a demon child doesn’t mean they all will.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Then how about the food bank? They’d let us sleep there.”
“With all the food.”
“Yeah.”
“Where we could just take the food and eat it without registering.”
“They’re giving it to the poor anyway.”
“No functioning human being would let street rats sleep in a room fool of food without supervision.”
“We’re not street rats, sis,” Salem sighed.
“Then why can’t we go rent an inn room for the night?!” Julianna demanded. “Or better yet, go and get our apartment back?”
“Because we can’t afford to pay the rent, obviously!” Salem retorted. “Thanks to what you did!”
“It’s not my fault that his stupid car is damaged.”
“You fell on it!”
“Did not!”
“You -” Salem took a deep breath. “Never mind.”
Kick, step step. Kick, step step.
“Do you have to keep kicking that stone?!”
“Sorry,” Julianna said, rolling her eyes.
“Is there anywhere you would like to sleep?”
“Our apartment.”
“We already sold it back.”
“Geogry would let us sleep in it for the night.”
“Sure he would. And the next night? And the next?”
Julianna picked up the stone she had been kicking and threw it at him. “Ow!” he protested, rubbing his arm.
“That’s what you get,” Julianna sniffed, resuming walking.
“For being right?” Salem jogged to catch up with her. “Well, if we can’t sleep in an apartment, and you won’t sleep in a church, and we’re not allowed in a food bank, and we can’t afford an inn, what do we do?”
Julianna shrugged. “I can’t see why we need to find somewhere, anyway.”
“Can’t see -!” Salem sighed. “If we slept out on the street, we’d get beaten up and mugged, that’s why.”
“What would they have to steal, if we’re so poor like you said?”
Salem pointed at the sword hanging on his back.
“Besides that.”
Salem rolled his eyes.
Julianna halted as a sudden inspiration hit her. “Roof?”
Salem paused as well. “Now there’s an idea.”
Julianna grinned cheekily. “See? Only took me one try to think of something.”
“Two. Your first suggestion was the apartment.”
Julianna ignored him. “Know a flat roof no one goes up to?”
“No, but I can find one.”
“Bet I can find one first.”
Salem smiled wickedly. “You’re on!”

"Writer's Block Arena Submission: Match One"

My story went over the 'allotted character length', so I'm posting it in two parts.



In the Gordon Ran arena, the fighting ring was identical to the Roman Coliseum - and twice as expensive, since it also had air conditioning and electricity for the comfort of his customers. Seats, aisles, railings, rows, and arches were carved from stone. The ring was layered thick with sand, hiding trick entrances, surprise trap doors, cages, and other forms of last-minute entertainment. The seat of the emperor (now reserved for Gordan Ran) was luxurious, displaying the finest money had to offer. The businessman had cut no cost, taking the greatest pains to make his fighting arena identical to the legendary building of ancient times.

But there were a few adjustments. Take, for example, the giant screen that hung over the fighting arena for all spectators to see. Electronic, shiny, and constantly changing, it was jarringly out of place in this ancient setting. But there was a lot of money at stake in these fights, and Gordan Ran wanted to be able to see how the betting was going without having to leave his view of the fights. Hence, the giant board where the odds, bets, losses, and gains were displayed and updated every second.



But in the rooms where the fighters spent their eating, sleeping, and waiting hours, the walls were four crumbling slates of concrete, the lights flickered fitfully, the whole place stank of mold and sweat, and the sparse furniture - a bed each and a washstand - were in dreadful disrepair. Gordan Ran felt no need to be lavish about rooms that his customers were never going to see.

Julianna had decided to punish her brother with the silent treatment. She was angry at him for talking her into this whole "arena fights" business, and yelling curses at him hadn't convinced him that he was in the wrong. So as the two siblings waited in an underground room to be called upstairs for their first match, she did her warm-up routine without saying a single word.

The infuriating thing was, the silent treatment seemed to be punishing her more than it was punishing him. Salem continued to grind at his sword with his whetstone, casually asking her questions or making comments, and just smiling when she didn't reply. Even worse, Julianna absolutely hated keeping silent. It was taking all of her willpower to not stand up and start yelling and screaming at him.

Salem watched his sister doing sit-ups with a smile on his face. He knew she was angry at him, and he didn't like that. But it was hilarious to watch her try and stay silent when it was against her nature. For amusement he continued pressing her, to see how long it would take for her to snap. "I wonder who our first opponent is going to be," he murmured, bringing the whetstone against his sword in a long sweep.

Julianna glared at him.

"Couldn't be younger than us," Salem said, "or they'd get in trouble with the age laws."

His sister finished her sit ups, turned over, and started her push-ups.

"Of course, this whole operation is probably illegal, anyway," Salem mused.

Julianna kept her back straight and made sure she touched her nose to the floor each time she went down.

"So they probably don't care about age laws, anyway."

She looked furious with him.

"The food they feed us is horrible, isn't it?"

No comment.

"Wonder who our opponent's going to be."

Julianna paused in mid-push-up.

"Hope it's not a girl. I don't want to have to hurt a girl."

Julianna leapt to her feet, red-faced and irate. "You take that back!"

Salem smiled with relief and tested the edge of his sword. "Oh, good, Julianna's back. Now that you're talking to me, I've been meaning to ask: I assume you want to use boxing on our opponents?"

Pouting, Julianna slumped onto one of the beds. It slumped with her. "Of course I'm boxing, stupid."

"Come on, sis," Salem sighed, sheathing his sword. "I know you're angry at me, but we're signed up, and we're going to have to fight soon. So can't we deal with this later? We need to be a team if we're going to do well out there."

The girl snorted, took in a deep breath, and lay back on the bed. "Yes, I'll be boxing. You know that's what I do best."

"Then promise me you won't go attacking with a weapon pointing at you. Either get an opponent with no weapon, or attack from behind."

"Duh," Julianna said, rolling onto her side so her back was to her brother. "You don't have to teach me all of this again, Salem. Don't waste my time."

Salem closed his eyes. "Look, I'm as nervous as you are, all right?"

"Who said I'm nervous?" Julianna demanded, sitting up. "Who said anything about being nervous? Why on earth would you think I'm nervous?"

Salem raised an eyebrow. Frowning, Julianna lay back down. "All right, I'm nervous. But has it occurred to you that we could be fighting professionals? That's plenty of reason to be nervous."

"Come on, we're professionals."

“As if! We’re street brawlers. Our only weapons are a sword only one of us can use and fists that haven’t been up against anything fiercer than a rogue garbage can!”

“That dumpster was pretty frightening -”

“Don’t change the subject.”

"All right, so we're not as experienced as some," Salem said. "But still, we shouldn't be overly worried about this. We've been in fights before."

"So what do you suggest?" Julianna said, knowing Salem only started his long-winded speeches as a preparation for one of his simplest suggestions.

"That we make it as short as we can," Salem said. "Get in there, fight, knock them out, win, and get out. We'll get paid, move on in the rounds, and be out of here in a manner of weeks."

"I thought that was the plan to begin with," she muttered.

"The original plan was to be overly entertaining in the hopes that we'd get a bonus," Salem said. "You know, like those wrestlers who don't actually wrestle, they just pretend to fight in silly costumes."

"Except that we would be putting our lives on the line while being entertaining," Julianna snorted.

"Well, yeah. But in this case, we'll actually be fighting. We just have to be entertaining and fast while we do it."

"You'd think an entertaining business would at least keep the stars in safe housing," Julianna complained, pointing to a crack as it formed on the ceiling.
***
Seth Kerberos was no more impressed with his room than Julianna was. "As soon as this fight is over," he declared, "I'm coming back down here and burning it. Cracked mortar and everything."

A groan from behind him caused a look of irritation to flash across his face. "Yes, I know concrete doesn't burn, Marcus. That's beside the point."

Sighing, Seth turned around to resume the meeting. His main captains were all assembled in his room, perched unhappily on the two sagging beds and waiting for orders. "No matter who we're up against, there's no chance we can lose," Seth began.

The zombie, vampire, demon child, witch doctor, harpy, skeleton, cannibal, hag, and alien glared at him ruefully.

"So I want you to take your time," Seth continued, ignoring them. "Be as entertaining as possible. It's a large audience, and we want to be impressive, don't we? Thighbone, tell your troupe that they have to dance in sync with the music tonight. I know it's hard to do when you can't hear the music, but try your best. Vixen, get your girls looking their best. When they transform I want it to be shocking! Dracula, don't actually bite anyone this time, okay? You're not the finishing act; we want to save the real drama for the end. Susanna, make sure your friends have filed their teeth to good, sharp points. Doctor Haikathawakanubiefiatophiehynoko, keep the hexing to a minimum on the audience, okay? You can do whatever you like with our opponents. Grandma, please, cackle about an octave higher than usual, okay? Mr. Brown... Mr. Brown? Please, put the arm down for a moment and look at me. Read my lips: leave - the - audience - alone. I'll give you the word when you can start eating people. And for goodness' sake, wipe your chin. You've got blood dribbling down it. Skyavascho, about the laser guns... I don't think we can use the hyperbooster. We might blow off the roof, and we don't want to do that much damage so soon.

"And as for me..." Grinning, Seth flipped a bowler cap from off his head, twirled it in his hand, then held it so the opening faced out. "I'll provide the music. Now, come on, everybody in. That's right, into the hat."

Grumbling, the troupe of horrors lined up and crawled inside of the hat, with Seth still speaking to them. "Well, of course we're going to eat the audience after we defeat our opponents, Marcus. We can't leave any witnesses, can we?"
***
Gordan Ran smiled, settling more comfortably into his seat. Finally, it was time to see some action and get some money.

Nothing could possibly make him any happier. There was no way he could possibly lose from this situation. Of course he had placed huge amounts of money into this competition. And the rules said each person could only bet on one side at a time. But the fact that the odds for Salem, Julianna and Seth Kerberos were exactly equal (50-1 for Salem, Julianna because of their lack of experience, and 50-1 for Seth because there was only one of him) didn't bother Gordan.

Because, when you've got the money, you can bend the rules any way you want. Gordan Ran had bet in both parties.

This meant that, no matter who won, Ran could and would win as well. And as for the money he had put in for the losing team? There were ways of getting that back.

So, for once, Gordan Ran's eyes were not on the betting board. Today they would be entertained by the fight. How simply delightful.

Gordan Ran sipped his beverage and smiled happily.
***
Salem and Julianna scrambled to their feet as the door opened. Pete Vole, head referee and champion shower-skipper, stepped into the room jerked his thumb at the hallway. "Come on, you two. You're on."

Julianna grimaced. "You're right, Salem, he does make it sound like we're entertainers."

"You're whatever Gordan Ran says ya' are right now," Vole said, walking back into the hall. "Come on."

The siblings followed Vole up flights of stairs to the surface world. Along the way, Julianna was thinking of improvements she'd put into the rooms if she was in charge. "Safer ceilings, definitely," she said.

"And the windows," Salem put in.

"Fill in all the cracks..."

"And get new furniture."

"Possibly put a new bathroom in every room."

"What's the point? Then you'd have to clean them all."

"Yeah, but did you see the people we're currently sharing our bathroom with?!"

"Shut the gab, both of ya'," Vole sighed. "This is it."

The head referee had led them to two massive oaken doors. "Wait here until they open," he said, walking away.

Immediately the siblings pressed their ears to the door, evaluating the situation. "Sounds... circular," Julianna muttered. "Lots of people."

"Wait, there's a pause in sound straight across," Salem said. "Probably doors identical to these, for our opponents."

"No escape routes," Julianna said sulkily. "Looks like we're in it for good, then."

Salem hushed her with a wave of his hand as they heard a voice roaring out over the noise of the crowd. “Laaaaadies and GEN-tle-men, WEL-cooooooome to the GOR-dan RAN ARENAS!"

There was a chorus of trumpets, followed by a drum roll. The announcer resumed. "HERE, for YOUR EYES only, an event SO startling, SO raw, SO outstanding, that it has been KEPT HID-den from the PUB-lic... UN-TIL NOW!”

The crowd roared.

"To EN-ter-TAIN and A-MAZE YOU," the announcer declared, "we have FI-ghters ready to SPILL their BLOOD at your VERY FEET!”

More cheering.

“BUT!” said the announcer, “BECAUSE we are not SAV-a-ges -"

"Yeah right, you pompous moron," Julianna muttered.

"- we have THREE REF-er-EES! MAY I introduce, Peter VOLE! Jeff KANE! And the lovely JESS-i-ca BRIGGS!”

There was polite applause, except for after Jessica Briggs’ name, when the siblings heard many men hooting and whistling.

“THE RULES are AS STAN-ding:” said the announcer, “ONE, DEATH is not PREF-erable; TWO, LIFE-THREAT-ening INJ-uries ARE all-OWED IF death IS NOT IMMED-iate; THREE, GordanRanisnotresponsibleformishaps,injuries,deaths,orothersucheventsthathappeninthearena.”

"Salem, I may just kill you for this."

"You're the one that fell on the car."

“And now, the teams. FIRST,” the announcer declared, “STREET BRAW-lers like you've NEVER SEEN BEFORE! A BRO-ther and SIS-ter with the WIIIITS of SUUURVIIIV-ors, READ-y to take AAANY-thing that COMES in their WAY. GIVE it UP for the BOX-er, JULIANNA! The SWORDS-man, SALEM!”

"We sound so unimpressive," Julianna complained as the doors opened.

"Showtime," Salem muttered. And the siblings stepped into the arena.

Eighteen-year-old Salem was five feet and ten inches tall, but his confidence made him seem taller. He purposely left his shirt unbuttoned to show that he was wearing body armor, and he was grinning as the light of the arena caught on his brown hair and eyes. Drawing his sword, he began some practice moves, bringing his sword in wide arches and high spins and drawing some impressed ooohs from the crowd. His fifteen-year-old sister was slightly less impressive, because her brown hair and brown eyes weren't framing a smile and her fists weren't boxing at the moment. She watched her brother incredulously as he showed off some of his fanciest sword tricks. "What are you doing?"

"Being entertaining," Salem said, flashing a smile at some pretty girls sitting in the front row, who tittered and waved in reply. "You might try it some time."

Julianna looked around for young men she might be interested in being entertaining for, but found no one under the age of thirty. "Not likely."

"AAAAAAAND the COMP-E-TI-tion,” the announcer continued. "A MAN with a TON-gue of SIL-ver, a FIST of STEEL, and the MIND of the DEVIL! Give it up for, SETH KER-BER-OS!"

As the double doors opened, Seth kept his face down, sheltered by the rim of his bowler cap, and both hands balanced on the top of his cane, so that the audience would see him in half-shadow. Slowly, he raised his head, smiling a gleaming smile that shone even in the dark. After picking up his cane with one hand he sauntered into the arena to wild applause.

To match his hair and his handsome bowler cap, he wore a black dress shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. Seth was dressed to mirror his soul. And hardly anyone could have a soul more black than Seth's - for Seth was the son of Satan himself.

Few people are truly Hellspawn, and Seth was truly one of them. All of the powers of the Devil were his, from the silver tongue that lured so many fools astray, to the ability to alter appearance and voice, to super strength (you thought his father fought all those angels with wits alone?). But the Tempter's favorite son had grown bored of Hell, and was now roaming the Earth doing more than gathering wayward souls. As he collected horrors of all kinds - zombies, vampires, monsters, and demons included - he taught them tricks and acts, creating what he liked to think of as a circus. And, as the ringleader of the circus, he liked to make sure that his audience was thoroughly entertained - before he had them massacred.

Over the years he had decided that being a ringleader was even more fun when you looked the part. With his silver-mounted walking stick, his smile, and his exquisite voice, he was - almost - the perfect entertainer. Strolling to the center of the arena, he bowed to the audience, waved a hand to Gordan Ran in his top box, and nodded cheerily to his opponents.

Julianna and Salem were confused. "Isn't... isn't he a bit over-dressed for a fight?" Julianna asked.

"Just a tad," Salem agreed. "Look, I'll attack from the front and distract him with my sword. You knock him out from behind, and this will all be over quickly."

"Oh, good."

“And now,” the announer began again, “LET the FIGHT be-GIN!”

Salem and Julianna started to advance toward Seth, but stopped apprehensively as Seth whipped off his bowler cap. It seemed to Julianna's eyes that two wisps of smoke flew out of it, but perhaps it had been her imagination.

Seth knew better. He had just sent two wraiths out of his hat. They would take over the lights, giving his act the visual effect it needed. Keeping his hat resting in his hand, he magnified his voice - since, as you know, the Devil can make his voice as loud or as soft as he needs, depending on how many people he wishes to tempt at a time. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said as the lights began to dim, "boys and girls, good evening, one and all." He twirled his cane and smiled invitingly. "Tonight, we have a rare treat. Yes, a rare treat indeed. You not only get to see the talents of my wonderful young friends here -"

Julianna and Salem exchanged glances.

"- but you also get to see entertainment that no one else alive has witnessed before! May I present the one, the only Circus of Terror!"

The crowd cheered, excited by this suggestion, and then cheered even more loudly as they heard music begin to play. Salem took the arena in with the acute gaze of a street brawler. "Where's the music coming from? There's no speakers."

"It's... it's coming from his hat."

"Don't be ridiculous, Julianna," Salem said, surprised. "Music can't come from a hat."

"No, not the music," Julianna said shakily. "That thing."

Salem turned back to Seth and froze in horror as a ghostly white head with deep, sunken sockets appeared from the hat. "What the -"

Two bony hands gripped the edge of the hat, and with a flip a skeleton had pulled itself out and into the arena. The audience gasped, and then cheered wildly!

Seth's smile grew grimmer as the skeletons jumped one by one out of his hat. The music he was currently playing was "Karn Evil 9 First Impression Part Two", a song written by Emerson, Lake and Palmer that was very fitting for his circus. As the lyrics to the song began his skeletons began to dance, moving to the rhythm of the music perfectly despite their, ah, lack of ears.



Julianna watched in horror as five skeletons started... dancing to the music. "S- Salem? What's going on?"

Salem tightened his grip on his sword. "I don't know, but I don't like it. Come on, let's get this over with." He and his sister began advancing on the dancing skeletons, who for the most part repeated the same dance combination: jump, twist, turn, bend, flip, clap, start again...



Kept safe behind the wall of skeletons, Seth twirled his cap in his hands and smiled at the kids as they began advancing on his dancers. Thighbone and his brethren couldn't harm them, but there was no need to tell them that. Let them spend some of their energy trying to destroy them.



Salem held a hand out, stopping his sister. "Let me, first. Just in case."

"I can handle them -"

"Not without knowing what you're getting into, you can't. At least I have a weapon."

Julianna pursed her lips but consented.

Stepping forward, Salem tried the most direct attack first, swinging his sword at one of the skeleton's necks. His blade slipped through a space between two bones, and apart from what Salem swore was a look of mild annoyance he got no reaction from the dancing skeleton. He tried again, this time aiming for something more solid like the ribs, but his sword just pushed the skeleton over. Brushing sand off its patella, the skeleton stood and resumed dancing with the rest. Jump, twist, turn, bend, flip, clap, start again...

"I can't hit them," Salem called to his sister. "There's just no flesh to them."

"I can see that," Julianna snorted. "Step aside, if you don't mind."

As Salem retreated, Julianna balled her hands into fists and began circling with one of the skeletons, which seemed to watch her apprehensively. She waited for the skeleton to get in a standing position - which happened when it reached the part clapping part of the dance - and quickly gave it a jab to its chin, followed by a right cross to its cheek. The result was the dislodging of the skull from the rest of the neck bones with her jab; the right cross sent the skull spinning through the air. The rest of the skeleton continued dancing, albeit with terrible timing, and it kept running into its comrades. Now the dance looked more like Jump, twist - twist the other way, turn - jump back, bend, flip - sprawl in the sand, stand, clap - slap the skeleton next to you...

Smiling, Julianna grabbed the skeleton's forearm and pulled. The bone gave way easily in her hands and she threw it to one side. "This is easy!" she yelled back to Salem as she began dismantling the frantic creature.

Seth tsked as the first of his skeletons was destroyed. That's the problem with skeletons; they're not very durable. It was almost amusing to watch as the girl scattered bones all over the arena and moved on to the next skeleton.



The referees watched in morbid fascination as Julianna finished dismantling another skeleton and moved on to the next. The skeletons, apparently panicking, danced faster: Jump twist turn, bend flip clap. Jump twist turn, bend flip clap. Jump twist turn, bend flip clap.

"Did... did any of you know about this?" Jessica Briggs asked as Julianna sent another skull flying.

"Nope," Jeff Kane yawned, scratching at his ear with a hind leg. The cat was the only one present who showed not the slightest interest at the dancing skeletons.

"Boss didn't tell me about it," Vole pouted. "Bu' I suppose when the boss wants entertainment, the boss wants entertainment."

"But the Circus of Terror?" Briggs said incredulously. "I've never even heard of it. You'd think Ran would hire something more expensive."

"That cheapskate?" Vole laughed. "Trust me, if this was the cheapest entertainment he could find, he'd go for it in a flash."

"But he already put so much money into building this place!" Briggs persisted.

"True, it's weird that he's not satisfied with just the fighting," Vole muttered.

Actually, Gordan Ran was just as surprised as they were when the music and the dancing skeletons appeared out of Seth Kerberos' hat. For a couple of moments he had simply stared in surprise, but as soon as he had recovered his wits his eyes went back to the betting board. Just as he suspected, the odds had shifted in Seth Kerberos' favor. Instantly he felt fearful that the odds might get unbalanced, that the odds would grow so high in favor of the winning team that his winnings would be tiny. But as soon as Julianna had destroyed the first skeleton, odds had leveled out again. Happy things were looking even again, he settled down into his seat and watched as Julianna destroyed her third skeleton.

The remaining two skeletons were definitely frightened. As soon as Julianna had separated their friend's spine from his pelvis, they had started trying to get away from her. Salem started laughing as Julianna began to chase the two skeletons around the ring, who managed to run for their afterlives yet dance at the same time. Jumptwistturnrunbendflipclaprunjumptwistturnrunbendflipclaprun...

Julianna caught one in a flying tackle, which sent half of its bones flying in all directions. Quickly separating the rest of them, Julianna scrambled back to her feet and raced around to meet the last skeleton.

Seth ducked as the last skull went flying through the air. It was a bit disappointing to have his skeletons destroyed; they were some of his oldest veterans, and it would take at least another two hundred years to train another troupe of dancers that were quite as good. But still, it was not a big loss. When the last skeleton was destroyed - right on cue with the music, too! - he clapped as hard as the audience.

Match Two. Bit of a fail, but it won anyway... So here:

Gordan Ran's Arena for the Bloodthirsty and Violent – that's what Julianna, one of the "bloodthirsty and violent", called it – was preparing itself for an event more spectacular than ever. For a whole week Ran had hired men cleaning the arena from top to bottom, sweeping the seats clear of dust, layering new sand on the fighting level, and polishing the plasma screen that usually displayed the bets on the combatants but for that week read "Cleanliness is close to godliness."

Most of this didn't seem at all odd. After all, Gordan Ran Arena fights were the talk of the underworld. Spectacular shows had swept the nation off its feet, and the money was piling in faster than even its greedy owner could count it. Such an upstanding event needed properly cleaned surroundings, so the dusting and polishing made sense. What did seem odd, to the workers at least, was the fact that before they could begin, they had to completely refill the arena with sand. Hardly anyone knew why, in the week before, Ran had completely cleared it of sand and given engineers free reign to work on the floor beneath.

Putting the mysterious fighting floor puzzle aside, workers simply did their best to make the arena spotless. However, downstairs remained as dark, depressing, dank, and dangerous as it ever was. Julianna Bloodthirsty and Violent, winner of Round One, kicked at one moldy wall in irritation. "Honestly, I'm almost willing to lose if it means getting out of here!"

Salem Bloodthirsty and Violent, winner of Round One, was lying back on his bed, hands behind his head and his eyes glued to the cracked and flaking ceiling. "I admit, I don't like living in this room any more than you do. What I wouldn't give to be outside..."

"Then why, in Heaven's name, did you talk me into this?!" Julianna yelled. "What the h–"

"Julianna!"

"– are we doing this for?!"

Salem sighed and rolled over, closing his eyes. "Because you fell on the car – OW!"

Julianna dusted off her hands as Salem sat upright in shock and picked up the piece of stone she had thrown at his head. "Where did you get this?!"

"It fell off of the wall," Julianna said, pointing to a hole.

Salem was about to throw it back at her when the door opened and Pete Vole, the greasy head referee Julianna remembered so well, was standing in the doorway. "C'mon, show time."

Groaning, the two siblings shuffled out into the hallway, following the referee. "Here we go, valiant indeed, great entertainers of the rich and stuffy," Salem grumbled, the pointlessness getting the better of even his good nature.

"Entertainers?" Julianna scoffed. "Have you looked at us? We're the least entertaining people on the planet."

"How so?"

Julianna gestured to her clothes: jean shorts, a pink sports bra, work gloves. She couldn't have looked any more ordinary. "I could sew you a costume," Salem suggested.

Julianna snorted. "You'd die sooner than in the ring. You'd stab yourself with the needle until you bled to death."

"Hey, now, who is it who repairs your clothes every time you rip them?" Salem objected.

"When was the last time I ripped my clothes?"

"When you landed on the car –"

"I didn't land on the car!"

"Oh," Salem snorted, "so you were just using the hood as a trampoline."

Julianna fumed for a minute, but wasn't able to retort. Finally she shot back, "Well, look at yourself!"

Salem looked down at himself. "What's wrong with this?" he asked. "I mean, unbuttoned shirt, body armor... Girls like this." Julianna pointed to his sword, and he placed a hand over the hilt defensively. "Don't suggest -"

"It's a great sword," Julianna said hurriedly, knowing how proud of it he was. "But most entertaining fighters name their weapons. It makes the sword more interesting."

"Do you two ever shut up?!" Vole groaned. "All that matters is that you fight and come out alive. And try to tone it down, will ya? Las' time nearly destroyed the ar'na."

Both siblings immediately grew silent. More than the dismal rooms below ground, and more than the idea of the arena itself, what contributed to the fighters' dark moods was the memory of their last opponent. Seth Kerberos and his Circus of Weirdos Extreme had not only completely exhausted Julianna and Salem, but had humiliated them by leaving before being able to finish the fight. Of course, they weren't to know that Seth was the son of the devil and that he had been as equally unable to defeat them as they were him. But that first fight had shaken them, and they dreaded this next one, fearing a repeat performance.

Vole led them to the giant gates they knew so well, and they silently waited behind it for the booming -

"LAAAAAAAAAAAA-dies and GENT-le-men!"

- announcer's voice they both despised.

"BOYS and GIRLS! RICH and richER! WEL-come to the eVENT you've ALL BEEN WAIT-ing FOR!"

Cheers, screams, trumpet blasts, drums. From their room below for the past couple weeks, Julianna and Salem had been able to hear all that went on as the fights progressed. It hadn't sounded pleasant, and the whole arena had gotten more extravagant as time passed.

The rest of the announcer's speech was lost on them until they heard the lines they were familiar with. They straightened themselves and tried to look a little less tired than they were as the announcer yelled, "A-LLOW me to RE-IN-tro-DUCE YOUR OLD FAVorites: the BOXer you all KNOW and LOVE, the SWORDSman you all ADMIRE and CHEER -"

More trumpets and drums.

"The STREET BRAWLers who defeated SETH KER-BER-OS: JULIANNA AND SALEM!"

"Here we go," Salem murmured as the doors opened and the two stepped back into the arena they hated the most.

The crowd had grown, Julianna noted as she looked around them. And everything was cleaner, too. Suddenly determined to make the best of the situation, she turned to her brother with a bossy look on her face. "Time to name the sword."

The weapon in question had been unsheathed, and Salem was strutting about, showing off for the number of young ladies in the nearest seats. "Now?" he questioned, looking at her as he spun his blade in circles. "Why now?"

She ignored his question. "How 'bout Trickster, since you're always doing tricks with it?"

"Sounds like the joker card," Salem snorted, tossing his sword in the air and catching it with his other hand.

"Then Show Off Sheen?"

"You could try looking entertaining yourself, you know," he retorted.

Julianna shrugged and started punching at the air.

"AND NOW," the announcer boomed, "MAY I RE-IN-TRO-duce YOUR FAV-orites -"

"I thought we were the favorites," Julianna muttered.

"- the HUNTing PARTners with a TASTE for BLOOD and who are HERE for a RETURN ROUND to destroy their SECond PAIR of TEENS -"

"I'm pretty sure there's some child labor laws being broken here," Salem muttered.

"Give it up for AAZELA and AEROS!"

The two women being announced stepped for the second time into the arena in perfect synchronization. Julianna took them in with a jaded glance, knowing they couldn't possibly be worse than Seth had been. Both had white hair, both looked athletic, and both did indeed look like they had a taste for blood.

Aeros held her bow lightly. "Come, now, this competition has little to gain from the last."

Aazela, however, continued to hold her dagger in a firm grip. "Weak or no, they are our combatants, and it is them we must defeat now. Prepare to battle."

Julianna glanced over at Salem. "Woman Beater."

"Huh?!"

"After this fight, you could name your sword Woman Beater."

Salem looked disgusted.

"AND SO," said the announcer, "you COME to SEE OLD FA-vorites FIGHT aGAIN. But did YOU PAY MONey so that YOU could SEE the SAME FIGHTS?"

The crowd roared its disagreement in response.

"Did you WANT to SEE them FIGHT exACTly as beFORE?"

Julianna put her fingers in her ears as the crowd roared again. "How 'bout naming your sword Silencer?" But Salem couldn't hear her.

"WELL!" cried the announcer, obviously pleased. "Of COURSE you didn't. THAT's why we're NOT GOing to GIVE YOU the SAME FIGHT!"

That was when the ground started trembling.

Both Hunters felt it first and looked beneath them in bemusement. The shivering became more violent, and soon both Salem and Julianna were staring at the sands as well. Then, all at once -

Aazela began to rise into the air.

With a great woosh a massive structure resembling a small skyscraper burst from the ground, showering sand everywhere as it bore Aazela up with it. She dropped to one knee to keep her balance and stared down in confusion as the ground fell farther and farther away.

Salem jumped to one side as another skyscraper erupted beside him. Aeros dodged one as it burst forth in a shower of sand. Julianna whipped her head around from side to side, watching tall grey towers pop from the arena floor like daisies, and was caught off guard as the ground beneath her suddenly rocketed to the sky. She fell to her hands and knees, gasping in shock as she rose to nearly ten feet high in a matter of seconds.

High in his chief seat, Gordan Ran took a sip of his tall drink coolly. This was even better than how he had imagined it! In the weeks before, he had hired engineers to design these skyscrapers: tall, metal, grey, rectangular structures that varied in height, width, and length. As far as he could see, there was no real pattern to the environment. Each building had its own secrets, from nooks and crannies to balconies and precipices, but none actually had an "inside" to them. And the very tallest, longest, and widest one of all was dead center, rising to only eight feet below the giant betting board (which read Julianna, Salem: 4-1. Aazela, Aeros: 2-1. The close odds didn't bother him, because he had created one thousand false identities, all pledging millions of dollars for either side, and he would only collect for the winners five hundred winners).

He smiled a bit as the screen in front of his seat flickered to life. People all around the arena were cheering as the seats in front of them revealed small TV screens. Because their view of the fights was sometimes blocked by these skyscrapers, Ran had asked that cameras be installed in all of them. Motion sensors detected where the fighters were, and activated the surrounding cameras. Therefore each member of the audience had no fewer than four views of each combatant. The only location in which there was no camera installed was for the very top of the highest tower in the center - because the view was plain, there.

To the side of the commotion, the referees Pete Vole, Jessica Briggs, and Jeff Kane were each watching similar monitors. Pete Vole was focusing on "those dang kids," and Jessica Briggs was focusing on "Team Girl Power!" Jeff Kane was focusing on the mice he was chasing in his dream.

When the buildings finally stopped sprouting, Aeros and Salem found themselves on opposite ends of a forest of skyscrapers. Julianna and Aazela could see their partners below them - and each other across the horizon. "YES!" yelled the announcer triumphantly. "THIS is what you PAID FOR! And now... MAY the FIGHT... beGIN!"

Julianna blocked out the screams and cheers of the audience and focused instead on finding Salem on the ground below her. She crawled over to the edge of her building and looked down. Salem was still next to her, ten feet below. "Now what?" he asked.

"Name your sword Pathfinder," she suggested, "and meet me at the center tower there. That seems to be the biggest, so we won't lose it. Once you get up here we can watch each other's back."

"Know where the opponents are?"

"I can see the one with the daggers and such," Julianna yelled. "But I don't see the one with the bow."

"She must be down here with me," Salem muttered. "All right, I'll follow you to the middle tower. If we lose each other we meet up there. Agreed?"

"Sure thing," Julianna said, standing. "Race you!" And she started running.

City racing was something she and Salem did frequently. That was what they had been doing when the car incident happened. They'd decide on a destination, then Julianna would race towards it using the upper levels of the city - roofs, chimneys, balconies - and Salem would race on the ground. Julianna, therefore, had no trouble going from building to building. The next building after hers was taller than this current one but had a ledge to it, so she sprinted toward it and leaped. After grabbing the ledge firmly she swung herself over, rolled, and continued. The next building was shorter, so she simply ran, jumped, and hit the roof, landing softly on her feetsimply and immediately collapsing into a roll. "Hey, how 'bout calling the sword City Slicker Steel?" she called down to Salem.

Salem was weaving through the buildings with his sword drawn and ready. He had no way of predicting what would come next: an alley, a corner, an entire lane. So he ran with his eyes and ears open, occasionally halting to inspect a corner with the reflection on his blade before turning it. "'City Slick...' Does that even sound threatening to you?" he called back up to his sister.

Julianna leapt onto a balcony and fell a little short. Grasping the railing, she paused. "It has to be threatening? Oh. I'll think about that." She pulled herself over.

Aazela and Aeros had also made a decision. "The boy is with you upon the ground," Aazela cautioned. "Perhaps you should track him and hunt him down. The girl will prove no match for me."

"Agreed," Aeros said, drawing an arrow and fitting it. "Hunt well." And she was off, weaving through the buildings. It was a bit difficult. Unlike the trees, which bent and moved and could be rounded, these harsh forms were solid and distinctly in the way. Aazela, meanwhile, was taking her time discovering the right timing required for leaping from building to building effortlessly.

Vole and Briggs had rearranged their screens so that Vole was now watching Salem and Aeros and Briggs was watching Aazela and Julianna. Briggs pointed to the screen as Julianna rolled onto a building and leapt to another without even pausing. "She looks like she's done this before." She then pointed to Aazela. "She doesn't, but she's learning fast. I've never seen anyone run so fast!"

"Besides her?" Vole commented drily as he watched Aeros tear through the maze. He was the first to witness as the fight officially began.

Aeros had found him. Dashing hither and thither, the boy appeared to be loyally following his sister. Or perhaps running alongside her; once couldn't tell. She kept out of his sight, jogging to match his pace. After a moment she found herself separated only by a few buildings from him, able to see him through a small gap in the fixtures. She watched as he stopped to face a small building - only four feet high. He looked at it, yelled "I'm getting off the ground!" to his sister, then proceeded to climb.

Aeros smiled and drew her bow taught. Aiming for his shoulder blades, she released the arrow.

Salem scrambled onto the building and just as a ssssssthk made him jerk his head up. An arrow was protruding from the corner of the building next to him. He swept his gaze to where it had come from and saw a flash of white hair. "Found the archer," he called up to Julianna, who had paused to catch her breath and wait for him.

Aeros was shocked. The buildings were too tightly packed together and too randomly arranged - she couldn't get a clear view. Usually she had no trouble hitting a moving target, but the restriction on her field of vision was making that impossible. Now she had announced her presence as an enemy. Scowling, she drew another arrow and aimed again, this time aiming between his eyes. To get a better view she jumped out from behind the corner she was using for cover - and found that he had jumped off the building and crept around another to come face-to-face with her. She swiftly took her arrow in hand and attempted to stab him with it, but his sword splintered the arrow, his element of surprise momentarily gaining the upper hand. He brought his sword back and twisted it around, obviously meaning to hit her head with the hilt and knock her out. But he moved too slowly - in 1.2 seconds she had reached her daggers and aimed one for his ribs, the other for his heart.

The audience gasped as the daggers moved, but Salem had moved as well, getting only a cut on an arm and a slash on his hip instead of the lethal wounds that were intended. Instantly deciding that face-to-face combat was not a good idea with this woman, Salem ran. Aeros tried to follow, but as he turned a corner she was confronted with two pathways and had to take a moment to listen with her keen hearing to find him. Good Creation, she hated these surroundings!

Julianna was having problems of her own. She barely heard as Salem communicated to her, because Aazela had caught up with her with speed that didn't seem at all possible. Julianna leapt onto a building and sighted the Huntress, leaping like a dear toward her. Before she could get out of the way, Aazela was upon her, with a dagger ready. Julianna saw the dagger aimed for her collarbone and dropped to the ground, kicking at Aazela's knees. Aazela jumped like a squirrel and landed behind Julianna, preparing to attack her back, but Julianna used her drop to roll onto a nearby building. "How... How do you do that?" she whispered.

"Julianna!"

She turned and ran, keen of the Hunter following her. "Salem, she's on my tail!"

"She's on mine, too," Salem yelled. "The other one."

"Maybe your sword should be named Follow-the-Leader, then."

"Will you please focus on the fight?!" Salem yelled as he dodged another arrow.

"How about Bone Cruncher?"

"Sis, it's a sword, not a cudgel! Think about a blade! You know, slashing edge, blood channel -"

"I am thinking about a blade!" she yelled back. "I'm thinking about the blade that's aimed at me right now!"

"Then why are you still suggesting sword names?"

"Current analyzation:" Julianna said, ignoring him. "Our opponents outmatch us in strength, speed, skill, experience, and quite possibly intelligence."

Salem groaned as an arrow nicked his shoulder. "So what does that leave us with?"

Julianna had managed to lose Aazela for a moment by dropping to another low building. "Our surroundings," she suggested. "Don't these buildings feel like home? Maybe -" she ducked behind a building, looked around the corner to see Aazela a few buildings behind her, and gasped, "Maybe they haven't been in a city as often. It's the only thing we have to use to our advantage."

Salem heard a soft sound and felt something tapping against his leg as he ran. Looking down he saw an arrow sticking through the loose part of his unbuttoned shirt. As he ran he pulled it free and threw it down. If it was true that the Hunting pair hadn't been in cities like he and his sister had... That would explain why she's trying to get a clear shot at me from behind, instead of lying in wait for me ahead, he realized. She can't figure out the pattern to this so she doesn't know where I'd go.

Even though Gordan Ran, the referees, the audience, and the Hunters couldn't see any pattern to the buildings, Salem and Julianna had already figured it out. Cities are layouts of geometric shapes. You can only be random for so long; after a while, spaces can only be filled in by certain shapes or combinations of shapes. The same went for heights. So once you saw what the buildings ahead of you were, you could reason out - if you knew the lay of buildings and cities - what the next ones would be like.

Aeros was nearly snarling with frustration. She shot arrow after arrow while on the run after the stupid mortal boy, and he never failed to run just around the corner. It was like he knew what was going to be coming next, while she had to put on the brakes more than once to prevent from running with her unmatched speed into a sudden wall.

Aazela wanted to keep this as an interesting fight, but she was five steps away from pulling out her wings in frustration. Aazela was swifter than any normal human, and yet this one seemed to slip away from her like an eel. Only previous knowledge of a setting could give someone that kind of advantage! But surely the children had been just as surprised as she when the ground had given way.

"Here's the new plan," the girl was panting. "The bird lands and the cat climbs the tree. Cat takes out the kitchen knife and the bird pokes out the thorns. Got it?"

Aazela growled in frustration. She didn't have time to figure out special sibling codes!

"Got it," the boy panted back, and Aeros became wary. Apparently that had all meant something to them. She let fly another arrow in frustration.

Salem gave a gruff cry of pain as the arrow grazed his shoulder. "Warning. This one can shoot and run at the same time," he yelled up to his sister.

"Noted," she called back, rolling onto a balcony. As she stood a dagger appeared as if by magic in the wall beside her. The one who was chasing her had thrown it and only missed her by an inch, taking a few strands of hair instead. Julianna used the dagger to climb up the wall, plucked it from the metal, kept it - one less weapon to worry about - decided it would be best to keep Aazela on a level beneath her as opposed to a roof higher than hers, and kept running. "How about DeathBlade?"

"Do I look like a barbarian to you?"

"Well, if you brushed your hair sometimes..."

"No."

Julianna ducked behind a 'scraper and heard two thunks behind her. Looking around the corner she found two ninja stars buried in the metal. She gulped and kept running. "Night Menace?"

"I don't menace people, Sis."

Julianna didn't bother to look at what weapon was whirling above her head. She just dropped and slid, falling neatly onto a balcony beneath the roof edge. "Chain Massacre?"

"Sis, does that even make sense to you?"

"How about -" Julianna broke off as she saw a welcome sight. "Tree at ten o'clock, my view. Two branches."

"Got it," Salem yelled, and he changed his direction accordingly, sheathing his sword and putting on speed.

Aeros got suspicious when he sheathed his sword, but she put on speed as he did. Rounding a corner, she drew her bow taut - and found that he had disappeared. She was facing a corridor of buildings, almost: two very long and narrow ones creating a passage way, it looked like, ending with another building and the option to turn left or right. But as she ran along it, she realized the corridor had been an illusion. The building on her right was really two buildings, joined together by some kind of linking smaller structure like a tunnel. The boy had disappeared.

Aazela was tired of the chase. Anxious to end this fight, she revealed her wings, causing the crowd to cheer. Ignoring the fools, she leapt into the air and flew over the buildings, looking for the girl. But she wasn't on any of the rooftops!

The referees could see what was happening, along with Gordan Ran and the audience. Salem and Julianna had sighted a "tree" - a good up-and-down route for them to use. It was the two buildings connected by a tunnel structure, next to a building with a nice medium height. By dodging onto the tunnel structure, Salem - the "cat" - managed to escape Aeros' notice long enough to leap onto the next building. He was to lie low and wait to scout Aazela - the "kitchen knife" - out. Julianna - the "bird" -, meanwhile, had jumped down from the same building and was hiding from Aeros' - the "thorn's" - view behind the tunnel, waiting to decide on where she would go.

"Sneaky Steel," Julianna whispered as they passed.

"No."

Jessica Briggs laughed with delight as Aazela hunted in confusion and Aeros slammed her fist against a wall. "Those two really do have street smarts!"

"But the Hunters' experience will get them yet," Vole said stiffly. "Look, Aazela has caught on."

She had. Seeing Salem, Aazela had folded her wings into a dive and was hurtling downward, daggerpoint first. Salem jumped away, leapt to a higher roof, and unsheathed his sword. And true fighting began.

Aazela thrust with her dagger, aiming for his waist, but he parried with his sword and snapped her wrist backwards. She brought that hand back, made her grip on the dagger firmer, and brought the arm back in a slash meant to catch his face. But he had continued his parry into a backslash, and his sword caught the edge of her dagger, causing her wrist to snap once again and this time disarming her. Flipping away from him, she found time to draw her sword and to charge. Steel rang against steel as he parried her chop, over and over again.

Neither had experienced such a fight before. Aazela far outmatched him in power, skill, and speed, but what were keeping Salem in the fight were his pure survival instincts. As a street brawler, he had the sole advantage of never learning a strict style of fighting. He had no real moves or specific counters; he simply acted as what seemed to keep him alive. Aazela, trained all her life to fight, knew each move - slash, parry, backslash, chop - in a specific and precise skillful manner, leaving her with knowledge that was usually undefeatable but was inadaptable to this boy's fighting style - or, rather, his lack of fighting style. Whatever move she made, he countered it with a move she had never seen before. His attacks were untrained, like the attacks of an animal. He could find no weakness in her, but she could not overcome him because he was too good at surviving.

Aeros was lost. In looking for the boy she had found herself in a labyrinth with nothing to track. Without having something to follow, she had no idea where to go. So she had slowed her speed as she rounded a corner - and that was what almost ended her fight there.

Julianna watched as Aeros jogged past her place on a small building and leapt, landing right on top of the half-elven archer. Aeros immediately reacted, wriggling out from underneath the girl before Julianna could get a firm hold on her enemy and drawing her daggers again. As she made a swipe at the girl, Julianna dropped to her hands and spun, aiming to kick Aeros' feet out from underneath her. Aeros leapt over her feet and forward, grabbing Julianna's ankles and meaning to lift her up and over Aeros' head. Julianna felt herself flying backwards through the air - getting a sandburn all along her front in the process - and swiftly grabbed Aeros' on ankles. As Aeros yanked, she found she was pulling at herself and let go. Julianna crashed down, perhaps not gracefully, but she landed on her feet, letting go of Aeros. Julianna tried to make an uppercut, but the half-elf was too swift, and had sidestepped. Seeing that Julianna was a boxer, Aeros lunged with her daggers, meaning to slash at the arms and make them difficult to use, but Julianna sidestepped, too, and only got a scratch on her shoulder. She hissed with pain and launched forward, pummeling at the empty air as Aeros slipped away from her fists, ducking and weaving as she received nicks and cuts from Aeros' daggers.

Aeros, being the skilled archer that she was, was most comfortable in a larger playing field. Julianna had guessed this and had planned her ambush for one of the more closely-packed areas, tight between two narrow buildings. That was what was keeping Julianna in the fight - her willingness to get in close to her opponent, as compared to Aeros' mild discomfort. As Aeros tried in vain to land a deciding blow on her fellow combatant, she raised an eyebrow at Julianna. The girl was shouting odd-sounding sayings - Julianna was still suggesting sword names, using the communication between her and her brother to pinpoint where Salem was on the roofs.

"Demon Claw!" Julianna shouted, trying a jab.

"Too evil!" Salem panted, parrying a blow.

She ducked a dagger. "Angelic!"

He thrust with his blade. "It's a weapon, Julianna!"

"Harlem Renaissance Reborn?"

"Blades sing, not write poetry."

"Jazzy Snazzy, then."

"Sis, for God's sake, concentrate on the fight!"

Salem had his work cut out for him. He was nicked and cut in what felt like a thousand different places. Blood flowed freely from one particular wound, above his knee. He had figured out that while she could fly with the wings, he couldn't touch them, which gave her altitude and him the inability to change that. But Aazela was finding him to be no easy enemy, either. Simply his determination to stay in the game and his unpredictability were testing her. He had unarmed her several times, so she had requested for the dead to supply a new weapon. Any weapon, since she could use them all. It was the dead who provided her with the ninja stars and the nunchuck she had thrown over Julianna's head in frustration. But each weapon that she used on Salem, from katana to quarterstaff to blowpipe, was eventually taken away, because she had the leisure to let each be taken away and he had the wild survival instincts to take them from her. No matter what she did, what move she made, what thrust or leap or flip she perfected, he was always finding ways to dodge, parry, slip, survive, live.

Live...

She hated to do this. This was just a street boy. But she needed to weaken his defenses just enough to create an opening. Just enough.

She called out to the dead as she fought, prolonging her attacks and lengthening her defenses to give herself leeway to do so. She sorted through them, calling out through the souls, until she finally found two who recognized her opponent.

"Your mother says she is disappointed that you are doing this," Aazela informed Salem, bringing her sword down in a chop.

Salem disarmed her once more, and watched as something handed her a battle ax. "My mother is dead."

"I speak with the dead," Aazela informed him, simply. "And she says that she wishes that you had applied for a job in the city."

She continued, relaying every word that Salem's mother and father told 'her. "Your father always hoped that you would do well in school. Both of you. Why couldn't your sister study more? You were okay, but Julianna... Father says she only got Cs and kept lying to you about it. Didn't you pay attention when you signed those report cards?"

"Shows what you know," Salem replied, disarming Aazela once more. "Sis and I aren't in school."

"He's upset about that, too," she replied with the same swiftness with which she produced two sabers. With one in each hand she battered him ferociously, gritting out the message of the dead with each blow. "He says you should have stayed in school, should have let yourselves be taken by foster care if it meant a proper education."

She tried very hard to attack him, mentally and physically, calling the dead to produce weapon after weapon, whether it was a blade of steel or a blade of heartache. She tried to find the most hurtful things, things that would distract Salem. But she didn't know that in his last fight, Salem had faced the son of the devil himself. Seth Kerberos had exposed his deepest fears, deepest desires, deepest temptations, and nothing Aazela or his parents could produce would be more frightening than that. He shut his ears to her and concentrated instead on his sister, shouting below him still. "If you ever have children, I pity them for what names you give them!"

"I'm good at coming up with names!" Julianna replied. "You just don't like any of them. Redhot Steel!"

"Sounds like a band!"

"Slasher!"

"Sounds like a horror film."

"Rapier Wit!"

"If it was a rapier, maybe."

Julianna gritted her teeth. Her fight wasn't going too well, either. She was starting to get exhausted, and sooner or later the half-elf's superiority would gain up on her, no matter how ill-suited she was to the surroundings.

The referees were all resigned, as well. There only seemed to be one possible outcome. Jessica Briggs had tried to wake Jeff once or twice, but now she didn't even bother. "A pity," she said. "Those kids are good sports."

Vole pointed to the betting board. "The money doesn't agree." The odds had changed to Julianna, Salem: 20-2; Aazela, Aeros: 2-1.

Suddenly Jessica gasped. Vole returned his attention to his four screens, which were flashing as views of the combatants changed perspective. He gasped, too. "I don't believe it..."

The audience, which had settled into a lull, was beginning to roar. Even Gordan Ran choked on his drink. Julianna was climbing buildings again, trying to reach her brother - and she wasn't being chased.

Julianna panted with exertion and paused, just for a moment, to catch her breath. She couldn't believe what she'd just done. And she couldn't believe it had worked! It felt as though she had cheated, had broken some unwritten law that the creature Aeros was meant to live undefeated. Why on Earth had it worked?!

As she waited to catch her breath and recover before helping Salem, the referees were replaying the fight, trying to figure out what had happened. "A' right," Vole said, rewinding and putting it on slow-motion. "See, here's where Julianna sta'ted runnin' outa steam..."

"Hang on," Briggs interrupted. "Oy, Kane, wake up, we need you watching the other fight while we figure this out. Make sure no one dies."

The cat yawned and obliged as Vole continued. "See, then Aeros got her a good few times, and there's a real deep cut here... that'll need bandaging. Th'n a slash to her waist, and that's when she realized she's in deep trouble. So she pull' out that dagger she'd grabbed and used it in 'er left hand, leaving the righ' hand free. Used the righ' han' t'throw sand 'n Aeros' eyes, there. Aeros 'as to scrub th' sand ou', which leaves her less time t'think. Julianna jabbed wi' th' dagger a coupl'a times, making Aeros think she was a lefty who was bad at using a dagger I guess. Aeros got used t'th pattern an' started jus' side-steppin' right-ways, still scrubbin' a'th' eyes. Af'er a bit Julianna used 'er right hand to punch her... here." He froze the screen. It was a perfect uppercut, right to the chin, hard enough to knock a bowling ball to bits. "She put all 'er energy in tha' swing, an' because Aeros weren't expectin' it, it was enough."

Aeros lay slumped in the sand, unaware of her defeat.

Salem had noticed that Julianna had stopped yelling at him, and that distracted him more than Aazela's constant mutterings of "Your parents are disappointed in you" did. But he didn't have time to worry over her. He was slowing up, the end of the fight was near, and he knew that she knew it too -

Aazela was concentrating on trying to intimidate Salem. She had the utmost confidence that this fight was hers, and her eyes glowed in anticipation. She saw his eyes grow nervous, saw his breath grow labored. She doubled her efforts, calling forth the visions of his parents to the side. They stood like grey wraiths, holding each other's hands and calling to him. Salem! Salem, please stop fighting!

He saw them, she knew. Saw them from the corner of his eye. She watched his eyes shifting like crazy. "Do you hear them?" she whispered, bringing her newest weapon, a halberd, down in an arc. "Give up the fight, they say. Lay down the sword and surrender."

Salem had lost the ability to disarm her. He was fighting for his life now.

Julianna dashed along the rooftops, praying she wouldn't be too late.

Salem, please, I don't want my boy to fight! Listen to your mother, Salem!

Gordan Ran was fingering his drink anxiously, wondering if the result would damage the arena's reputation by being too predictable.

Aazela's eyes reached a new brightness, shifting to the dangerous gold that meant death.

Salem! Don't you want to see us? Don't you miss us? Please don't fight, Salem!

The referees watched as Julianna dashed through the maze, feet pounding on metal as she leapt from roof to roof.

The audience gasped as Salem was driven to his knees by a chop he only barely managed to parry.

Aazela grinned with pleasure and brought her halberd back, high above her shoulder -

Please, Salem!

Salem readied his sword in a two-handed grip.

Two gloved hands gripped the edge of the tower.

- and brought her halberd back in a swinging arc, hissing, "Thou art mine, boy!"

Salem!

Salem!

"Salem!"

So intent was she on delivering the final strike that Aazela almost didn't hear Julianna running behind her. She whirled around, shocked, and prepared to strike the girl, but Salem let go of his sword with one hand and grabbed the halberd. He shifted his hold on his sword and hit Aazela's skull with the hilt - the hit was weakened by his exhaustion, but it was enough to distract her as Julianna delivered two kicks and a jab. Aazela reached for Julianna with her free hand, but Julianna grabbed her wrist and wrenched her arm around to her back, holding it still. Salem bent Aazela's arm backwards so that Julianna could grab that one as well, and together they kicked at Aazela's legs until she was kneeling. The pressure on her arms caused her to release her hold on the halberd, and in her distraction she released her hold on the spirits of the dead. Salem and Julianna's parents disappeared, as did the souls who supplied Aazela with fresh weaponry. Aazela was in a kneeling position, head bowed, with Julianna pinning her down and Salem's sword perpendicular to the curve of her neck.

The audience was on its feet, waiting for it to be finished. Gordan Ran smiled at his winnings and the referees stared at their screens, amazed at the turnout.

Salem panted for a while, then closed his eyes, shook his head to refocus, and said, "Before I knock you out, I want you to know that you're the most skilled opponent I've ever had and if it had just been me, you would've won."

Aazela glared at him and spat, "Kill me."

Salem took a step backward. "What -"

"For a Hunter to be defeated is the ultimate disgrace," Aazela snarled. "I have lost mine honor. Kill me, and end mine torment." She bent her head and bared her neck.

Salem stared at her for a moment, clutching his sword. Then he firmed his grip and raised his sword above his head. He brought it swinging down as Julianna cried "Salem, no!"

Wwwwwssssthk!

Aazela flinched as the swordpoint was buried in the metal of the tower inches in front of her. Salem let go of his sword and knelt so that he was eye-to-eye with his opponent. "If I were to kill you now, you would spend eternity in dishonor. At least now, alive, you have the chance to start over."

He stood, pulled his sword free, and turned to walk away. Some feet away he stopped and spoke again, without turning. "What was that trick you played on me? How'd you make the image of my parents appear?"

Aazela didn't answer. She was too stunned.

Salem shrugged. "Then, just for your own information, Sis and I are street brawlers because that's the life we chose for us. That's it." Then he hopped down to the next building.

Julianna rearranged her grip so that both Aazela's wrists were in her left hand. She raised her right hand over Aazela's neck and murmured, "This will only hurt for a little bit." The fist came down and pounded in exactly the right place, and Aazela slumped forward.

After Julianna and Salem had both descended, the buildings began to disappear back into the floor, leaving square and rectangular patches of metal dotted throughout the otherwise sandy arena. Referees came out to declare the siblings as the winners and to drag the Hunters away. Julianna ignored the cheering of the crowd and turned to a solemn brother. "Honorblade."

He turned to her. "Huh?"

She motioned to the sword he still held. "When you wield that sword, you wield your own personal honor. That sword is your everything - like you said, you chose it. Let its name reflect that, then.

Salem glanced down at the sword. After a moment's pause he tossed the sword into the air with an expert flick. He watched the sword spin in the air, stepped forward, twisted his shoulder slightly, and blinked as the sword fell down into its scabbard with a Ssssszzzzzkk! The audience roared its approval and Salem turned to smile and wink at his sister. "Ay, that's the name. Honorblade."

Tired but feeling pleased, the two turned to return to their dark room under the arena.

When Aazela awoke, she found Aeros sitting in a bed beside her. It wasn't their room under the arena, it was obviously an infirmary. Aeros looked at her partner and opened her mouth to speak, but closed it when Aazela sat up straight, grabbed her partner's hand, and shot out the door at full speed. Together they ran until they had left Gordan Ran and his terrible arena behind, ran until they had left the city and entered the wilderness. They ran until they realized that they could not outrun their defeat. And then they sat, staring at each other wide-eyed, wondering silently what their future was to be.

Season Four! I skipped a season and decided to participate again. With new characters, because Salem and Julianna aren't stupid enough to go back there again...

Name: Aramoana

Age: 37

Gender: Female

Species: Human

Appearance: Blue hair that hangs to her knees is natural, thank you very much. As are the porcelain skin, long limbs, and rarely-seen blue eyes.

Personality
Static Traits: Very formal in nature: in her words, in her mannerisms, and in her actions, Aramoana only focuses on her task at hand.

Dynamic Traits: Over time she is learning to not expect the same level of dignity and formality from those around her. She can even banter with others, almost like having a friendly conversation. Perhaps one day she'll learn what it's like to have fun outside of duty and responsibility.

Reaction Under Pressure: Handles pressure very well. She accepts it as another task and continues stoically, hardly changing her behavior at all. Her heartbeat naturally increases and the energy put into her actions can, if she is in danger, reach perilous levels, but she will behave as she always does.

Sense of Humor: She never laughs or smiles – at least, she hasn't so far.

Fighting Style
Offensive: Hinders motion and bodily functions such as breathing. When feeling danger, she may directly attack your body, but she prefers to use the area around you.

Defensive: Uses space. She tries to prevent you from getting close to her, and shields herself rather than dodge or run.

Supernatural Powers:Controls the speed and motion of water molecules.

Weakness: Controlling water molecules takes a great deal of concentration and mental energy. She is a mortal and so will reach a point where she simply can't keep it up any more; however, due to her formal nature and years of intensive training, she's more likely to lose energy than concentration. The more she does with her powers, the longer she has to wait to use them again once she runs out of energy. Besides that, her formality is a huge weakness: she's too set in her ways and isn't readily capable of thinking on her feet.
Of course, it goes without saying that where water is limited, her power with it is limited.

Ethics/Morality: Her formality leads her to strictly follow the "rules" of most societies. She won't kill needlessly, nor act rashly. She simply wants to complete her task. She usually does this with integrity. However, she follows the Druids' rules first and foremost. If they tell her to kill, she will kill. If they tell her to cheat, she will cheat. They rarely ever do; they care more about the end result than about the means. But their word is law in her world.

Internally or Externally Motivated, and by what/why?: Externally motivated by the Druids. The tasks they assign her become her sole focus. As for why: the Druids gave Aramoana a purpose. She set their goals as her goals to give her a reason for existing. It's hard to find anything else to motivate you when you have been hidden from the rest of the world all of your childhood and adolescence.

History of the Character: They call themselves the Druids, but Aramoana did her own research at one point, back when she was young and eager to learn. She knows now that they are nothing like the Druids of the ancient Celts. The name only exists to instill mystery and awe in the Druids' followers. In reality, they are an organization, one of many, that exists to place limits on those who control the elements. They were not the first. They will not be the last. But to Aramoana, they are the alpha and omega of her world.
Aramoana can't remember a time when she hasn't heard the whisper of water. Always there – in the air, in the earth, in the people around her – she has always had the water. When she was very little, she would reach out to the water, and it would reach back. She didn't know how to explain it. So her parents gave her to the Druids, and she has been with them ever since.
Long years were spent in intensive training, learning to master her skills. Controlling an element means controlling yourself and your urges; it means discipline. She spent most of her years underground, interchanging between a room with a pool, and a room with stale air, learning the extents of her powers with and without easy access to water, and learning to control herself from relying on the water. She was fifteen before she saw the sun again, and began to train outdoors and with others.
When she was twenty-four she was given her first task. Now that her training was done, she was required to serve the Druids. For the most part, this meant finding others with elemental powers, and enforcing the rules upon those who went rogue with their powers. Being one of the most experienced and skilled water users, she has since become an invaluable enforcer of Druid ways in Druid territory. (Druid territory, by the way, covers about half of the American west coast.)

Character Relationship: Recently Aramoana was given a simple task: There is a man, a fire user, who has appeared. He appears to be a rogue. Capture him and bring him to us. Nothing she hadn't done before. So she was sent after Romero. Just another task. Just another rogue elemental user who needed a good dousing and a little bit of Druid medicine and training.
Boy, was she wrong. Romero wasn't just a rogue; he had been a street rat all his life and bowed down to no authority. His powers were uncontrolled and his rage was unchecked. By the time their first battle was over and Aramoana won, an entire town and half of the crops surrounding it - not to mention the lake - were destroyed. When she brought him in, the Druids tried everything on him: solitary confinement, training, unconsciousness, guided dreams, drugs, beatings, and even lectures. Nothing worked on him. He just kept burning people - with his words, when they took away his ability to use fire. Finally, they came to Aramoana with a new task: We are sending him out into the world. We cannot contain him here. You are to watch him.
... Watch him?
After a bit of asking around Aramoana figured out that "watch him" meant "let him roam where he will but keep him from breaking Druid laws, by force if necessary." So, Aramoana has loyally spent the past year and a half following this idiot across the country dousing him with water whenever he showed signs of using his fire powers.


Name:Romero

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Species: Elf

Appearance: His elf blood appears to be mixed with something fowl; besides the characteristics of most elves (having pointed ears, good complexion, and good height) he has teeth that seem to be fangs at times and nails that appear to be claws. They're not so pronounced that he can't hide them, but he tends to emphasize them when he's angry and trying to scare people. He also hasn't cut his red hair in a while.

Personality
Static Traits: Has a short fuse, is reckless, refuses to acknowledge a figure of authority above himself, tends to solve things with violence, and has no self-restraint.

Dynamic Traits: Over time, he may - just may, mind you - start listening to Aramoana a little bit, maybe realizing that she's more experienced. He may start thinking before he leaps, and maybe he'll try something besides fire to solve his problems. That depends on if his own methods fail him at some point, and fail him more than once. So long as brute force continues to work for him, he'll keep his blinders on and won't listen.

Reaction Under Pressure: He flares up - pun completely intended. When under pressure he gets very nasty and destructive. The more you press him, the angrier he gets, and the less restraint he has. If he finds he can't do something, he tries to blow up his surroundings and get out of it by making it disappear.

Sense of Humor: Romero constantly does stupid dangerous pranks whenever things get boring. When he can't do that, he makes his own fun with his wit and his tongue. Lately the most entertainment he gets is out of making fun of Aramoana, trying to get a reaction out of her. (Usually the only reaction he gets is a bubble of water around his head.)

Fighting Style
Offensive: Annihilate. Smash. Burn. Destroy. Romero throws his flames at you, and then concentrates on making those flames bigger and more intense. He doesn't think of utilizing his surroundings; he only narrows in on the "enemy" and tries to destroy it.
Defensive: Annihilate. Smash. Burn. Destroy. Basically, his defensive strategy is, "if I wipe it out first, I won't have defend myself against its attacks." When this fails, he has to resort to running and dodging. But he usually tries to stick with burning and destroying.

Supernatural Powers: Romero can cause and control combustions. Not having spent much training with an organization like the Druids, he doesn't fully understand how it works, which is partially why he has so much trouble controlling it. The Druids, not being able to test or examine Romero, think that what usually happens is Romero causes a spark, then separates molecules in the air and recreates them into flammable elements, focusing his efforts on the areas he wants to destroy. If he can't create a spark, he can use the same techniques on more solid elements, like those in an enemy's body, but it takes more energy and effort than using flammable air to set that flesh alight. Romero usually uses the spark technique; for this purpose, he always carries with him pieces of flint, which he uses expertly.

Weakness: Romero's powers have the same weaknesses as Aramoana's. They rely on energy and concentration. Romero is more likely to lose his concentration than to lose his seemingly endless energy. As said above, however, using a spark and flammable air takes less energy than making flammable elements in a body burst into fire. If Romero for some reason can't use his flint, it takes a lot more energy and concentration to start fire, due to the fact that he has to start the combustion from scratch. In addition, Romero's blind fury is a hindrance; wind him up enough and he won't be able to concentrate at all, and he'll blindly destroy whatever he sees. More than once he's almost destroyed himself. On a related note, Romero is not immune to fire. He can only use his flames in ways that don't endanger himself as well.
Of course, it goes without saying that where fire is limited, his power with it is limited. That means if there's no oxygen or fuel, there's no fire.

Ethics/Morality Romero has no ethics or morals. Cheating, stealing, and killing are all part of the game. If he does follow the rules, it's because Aramoana's forcing him to.

Internally or Externally Motivated, and by what/why?: Internally motivated by his desire to conquer whatever enemy happens to be nearby. Basically, as a street rat, he's learned that it's eat or be eaten. He is going to eat, not matter what. Nobody is eating Romero.

History of the Character: Romero's mother was a street girl; she sold flowers or matches during the day and herself at night. Consequentially, they don't know who his father is. Too busy to take care of him and his unknown number of siblings, Romero's mother left him to survive on his own, for the most part. For the first so many years Romero's older siblings helped take care of him, but once he reached the age of eight he was almost completely on his own.
He was never registered - no birth certificate, no record of residence - so he never went to school. He spent his days walking through the streets looking for food to eat. When he was really little other street folk would either share crumbs with him or chase him off. The bigger he got, though, the more he fought for his own fair share. He learned to fight for survival. He also learned, the older he got, that a beaten enemy became a resentful enemy. For some, it was better to do away with them once and for all. Less competition later, less need to watch your back. So began his destruction.
Always, he has had the fire.
It began with lighting papers at night to keep himself warm. But the older he got and the more he fought to survive, the more he learned that fire could be used as a weapon. But without proper training, his fire often became more than he could handle. Many was the building that crumbled, and many the lives lost, because someone infuriated Romero beyond the point of restraint. Annihilation - that was the order of the day.
In fact, his destructive power got so terrible that Romero, reaching his teen years, finally had to start moving from city to city to minimize the damage he did. Of course, each time he entered a city, he had to reinstate himself as an opponent not to be messed with. That meant more challenging, more fighting - and more fire.

Character Relationship: Romero laughs at the thought of the Druids. Shams, con artists! They aren't druids, and they certainly aren't the boss of him. Who do they think they are, telling him what he can or cannot do?
Well, they thought they were enough of his boss to tell him that he couldn't just set fire to things whenever he wanted. So when they finally narrowed down where all the fire was coming from, they sent Aramoana after him to take him to the Druid's hideout for "training." Romero, of course, declined the invitation, but Aramoana was insistent. A battle or so later, he was underground in a filthy room where they tortured him over and over again - they limited the oxygen in his room so he couldn't combust things, doused him with water, beat him, drugged him, invaded his dreams, knocked him out, and - worst of all - talked to him over and over about how "the order of the world must be kept in balance" and like crap.
Well, they soon figured out (after he burnt a couple of their employees) that he was a bit more than they could swallow. So they set him free again. All good so far. Here's the glitch: they sent that Aramoana wench with him.
Now, Aramoana's kinda cool. She's a very skilled fighter, no question. And she's kind of interesting. She doesn't ever seem to get mad at him like others always do. She doesn't even particularly want to kill him or wipe him out, either. On the flip side, though, she doesn't care about him at all. It's so irritating to have a baby sitter who doesn't react to any of your best pranks! She literally just douses him, gives him a lecture or two, then goes back to whatever she's doing. Nothing makes her raise her voice. Though, actually, maybe she's starting to get a little annoyed now and again... Maybe he's growing on her.
To be honest, Romero had tried to escape from Aramoana countless times already. He's run away, sneaked away, walked away, pretended to be doing something else while really getting away, and - when simply leaving her didn't work - he tried attacking her directly. For some reason she keeps pounding the daylights out of him, throwing him over her shoulder, and carrying him back to camp. He's had to stop trying to leave because it's embarrassing. She's also, over time, started teaching him things about his powers that are actually useful. He turns a blind ear to all this "containing" and "controlling" and "restraining" stuff, but once and a while he actually - whooda thunk? - learns something. So he's waiting until he's one-hundred-percent unbeatable with his powers. Then he'll escape, and if Aramoana comes after him, she better watch out.

How they found this Arena/Intro Story: Aramoana looked down at the flier in her hands, her face and voice betraying no emotion. "You did what?"
Romero looked very pleased with himself. He was perched on top of a stone wall outside a public park somewhere, hidden from view by trees and whatnot. He was very good at finding hiding places like these. He looked down at Aramoana, grinning impishly. "I signed up t' fight 'n that arena. Y'know, the one ole man Gordan Ran runs? I heard that he was s'posed t' go t' prison fer deaths tha' took place in his arena but he paid th' bail and –"
Romero didn't get a chance to finish. Flicking out a single hand, Aramoana collected as much water from the air as she needed and sent a tiny tidal wave crashing into the back of Romero's head, sending him flying from the wall. As he struggled to his feet on the ground Aramoana surrounded his head with the water, leaving only his ears uncovered so he could hear her voice. "Do you realize," she said calmly, ignoring him as he struggled against her watery hold, "how completely idiotic this is? To waste time battling strangers for a prize there's no guarantee you'll win?"
She released the water and he fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air. As soon as he could speak again he looked at her and grinned with only a little less mischief. "It's no' just me. I signed you up, too."
She returned the hold of water to his head, this time not even leaving the ears free. Romero waited for her to release her hold on him, but she did not - she was determined to crush his foolishness this time. Finally, unable to breathe, his hands flew to his pockets and brought forth two flint stones. Before she could take them from him he created a spark and sent it hurtling on a path of flammable air towards Aramoana.
As he knew she would - because this had happened before - she took a bit of water from the water surrounding his head to put his flames out. He repeated his fire projectiles one after the other until he could finally breathe again. His head was completely soaked. Shaking the water from his hair he glared at Aramoana resentfully. "Ya don't have t' kill me, y'know. Listen, I had good reasons."
"Let's hear them."
"We're broke. We don't have a place to stay. And we don't have no food. Arena fighers get t' stay 'n rooms and eat food 'til they lose. So while we work our way up through th' rounds, we have a place t' eat and sleep. An' after we win, we get th' prize money, so we'll be set."
"So, money. That's one reason."
"Nuh-uh, food and rest, tha' makes three reasons."
Aramoana might have rolled her eyes, but he could never see them under her hood. "If we had money, we'd have food and rest. Therefore, it all fits under the category of one reason. One reason is not good enough to get us involved in something as reckless as... as this." She waved the flier in the air as a gesture. "You're asking me to volunteer my fighting skills to buy you a bed, a meal, and a chance at prize money - which can only be supplied per victory. What makes you think I'll take that risk?"
Romero grinned. "In the 'rena I'll get all my -" He flicked fingers in the air in the form of quotation marks "- 'd'structiveness' outta my system. It's a place where I c'n do whatever I want without you havin' t' fix the damages."
"It would be better if you just didn't destroy, period." She was thinking about it, though. He could tell. She didn't like babysitting him any more than he liked being babysat. To have some time off - and all she had to do was douse a couple people? It shouldn't be that hard.
Finally, she folded the flier and stuck it up one of her sleeves. "Fine. We'll go."
Romero grinned wider. "Egg'sellent. I already forged yer signature on th' papers releasin' the owners of the 'rena from all responsibility of yer possible death, so all we gotta do is show up and –"
This time her water encircled just his mouth and nose, leaving enough water to encase his hands and make his flints useless. As he struggled to gain enough concentration to set something in the surroundings on fire without a spark, he heard her say, "I didn't even know you could write."