Beach Bound

I'm leaving tomorrow to spend a week at the beach. So naturally I went to the bookstore to stock up on reading material for the week. I won't be posting while I'm gone but expect some new material when I get back! I have a short story that's been bouncing around in my head trying to escape and maybe I'll try my hand at some poetry. Hope everyone enjoys their week, I know I will :)

meet the character: ASH

He pulled the heavy volume from it's place on the tall shelf and stared down at in with some reverence. The chronicles did not yet include him but they would. Ash was known as the greatest Fire Dancer of his time, and his era had come to an end. He didn't think his imminent departure from the arena would affect him in such a way, surprised to feel that the pain was physical, it started in his gut and spread from his belly up into his chest. Or perhaps it was just heartburn, he thought disgusted with himself and his rotting body.

There was no place more sacred to him than the Arena. The blood stained dirt, the acrid scents that inflamed his nostrils, the rush of a screaming crowd. The people of Mir 'Or had loved him and Ash had loved the sensation.

It won't be so bad, he lied to himself, trying to stem the ever flowing numbness that threatened to engulf him. Never again would he step out onto that dirt. Never again would he hear his name echo on the cries of thousands. He had enough wealth to last until the end of his days and he would never want for water but his fame.... His fame had been fleeting and in the eyes of future spectators he was already forgotten.

He blew the thick layer of dust off the tome and opened it, careful not to overly disturb the brittle pages. So many, he mused. The art of Fire Dancing had been applied to the arena for centuries and there had been many heroes. Each had had their moment to bask in the love of the people and each was immortalized in this chronicle. It was all Ash had left. He poured over the names of the hundreds that had come before him, some names brought a smile to his thin lips while others caused him to sigh. There were so many he didn't know.

He heard the call of the trumpeters and turned towards it. The battle royal was beginning. The sound was precious to his ears and his blood sang in response to it's call. He must have followed the noise down the sacred halls because he found himself at the doors that opened up to the arena, unsure how he'd gotten there.

“Still here old man?” Timber grinned. Young, arrogant and the current favorite in the arena he was a massive man that towered over Ash's own frame. Ash was far from small but in the shadow of Timber's presence he felt weathered and stooped. Had he really left the arena little more than an hour ago? The moment was already as fleeting as yesterday.

“Lay off him,” snapped Kindle. She placed a gentle hand on Ash's shoulder. “Come to watch me kick his ass?” Her blue eyes sparkled as she adjusted her breast plate.

A Fire Dancer's armor covered their shoulders, chest, back and face. The arms and legs were left exposed to allow for maximum movement in the arena. Many Dancer's had their careers ended from a badly timed move that had left their appendages as noting more than smoldering stumps. Ash's own eyebrows had burned off more than once and he sported an ugly scar that ran up the entire length of his right arm. He looked down at the scar now, remembering when it had been red and angry. Now it was white and almost forgotten, like him.

Timber snorted. “That would be something to see. Stick around old man, let me show you what the Dancers are doing these days.”

Ash nodded, “I'll stay for the match. Give you a few pointers after.” Kindle squeezed his shoulder.

Timber grinned, “I saw your little exhibition this afternoon. I think I might have something new for you.”

Ash ground his teeth and said nothing. His afternoon stint had been nothing more than a farewell show and apparently everyone knew it. He'd fought Smolder, a massive beast that had killed dozens of Fire Dancers in her prime. Now she was used mostly in the training arena, sparring practice for new cadets.

The trumpets sounded again and Ash felt his body hum with the excitement of a new battle. One that he would not participate in. He followed the two dancers through the heavy doors that led into the arena and took his seat in the glass spectator box reserved for trainers, owners and the upper society of the Republic. He was greeted by a polite smattering of applause and a few handshakes. His name had not died yet.

He'd never watched from the spectator box before and there was something to be said for the experience. Though Ash preferred to be out in the open where he could feel and smell the action, the air behind the glass wall was sweet smelling and slaves waited eager to refill their master's wine and offer fan service against the scorching heat of the flames. Ash took his seat next to Beshar, a lesser member of the Thirteen and apparently the owner in this match.

Beshar shook his hand enthusiastically. “Ash! We've met once before, after you slaughtered Reckoning. That was some fight.” He continued to work Ash's hand up and down. Ash was used to men of all rank fawning over him, and it felt good to have the attention of one of the Thirteen. “Are you working as a trainer now?”

Many retired Dancers took on cadets to train in the ways of the arena. Ash had given it little thought though the idea held some appeal. Perhaps through training a new Dancer his legacy would live on.

“Scouting out the competition.” Ash had to shout because the spectators in the arena had begun to shout. Were they chanting Timber's name? He ignored them. “Who have you got today?”

“Wildfire, making her debut.” Beshar wiped at his brow with a perfumed handkerchief. “She's small but agile as they come. We might see some blood tonight.” His face was hard and eager, an odd expression on his pale round features.

Arena battles could end in three ways. The owner could call an end to the fight to protect his investment at which point the Dancers would be awarded a win and the owner was allowed to take his beast home to be used for breeding purposes. This was seldom done as even the owners liked to see the Dancers bring out blood. The second was a fight called off by the Dancers themselves. If a Dancer was feeling overwhelmed they could concede defeat and take a loss. A loss forced them to remove themselves from the arena and recoup for a minimum of three moon cycles. When and if, the dancer returned they were almost always out of favor with the crowd. Ash would have rather died in the arena then call for mercy while he licked his wounds. The final and preferred ending to the arena battle was an all out battle royale. Two Fire Dancers entered the arena with the beast and in the end only one, dancer or beast remained standing.

The inaugural trumpets sounded and Ash leaned forward in his seat. Timber and Kindle began to turn and leap across the dirt arena, warming up their bodies and exhibiting an exotic display for the crowd. The sound of the metal gates rolling back indicated Wildfire's release and the crowd grew silent in anticipation of her debut.

She stepped out slowly and as always the first sight caused Ash to swallow a lump in his throat. She was magnificent. A clawed foot, a gleaming green scale. Her head appeared, her neck arching and eyes searching as she sniffed the air. Her forked tongue flicked out tasting her surroundings. She hissed and smoke curled from her nostrils. She leaped from the arena ground and took flight, causing the crowd to roar in delight as she flew up and circled the dome of the arena.

The spectator box darkened under her shadow and Beshar slapped Ash on the back shouting a whoop in delight. “Didn't I say she was something?”

He rubbed his hands together and Ash smiled at the reverent look in the owner's eye. This wasn't his first dragon but Beshar was certainly proud of this one. And he should be, Ash thought, admiring the dragon's display as she circled the arena, her body a sensuous display of twisting gleaming scales. She bellowed her fury, a stream of molten fire shooting out against the sturdy glass ceiling of the arena. There was no escape and soon, angered, she would land and fight the dancers. It was the way, Ash wished he was out there, though he knew his knees could never handle another fight with such a young dragon.

Timber and Kindle stood at the bottom, Kindle nervous and hopping from foot to foot, Timber calm and still as a stone.

Wildfire landed on the ground causing the arena to shake from her crushing weight. She turned on Kindle first, propelling a line of fire directly at the young dancer. Kindle leaned back, throwing out her arms as she did and the fire rolled away from her, ricocheting off the glass of the spectator booth. Beshar jumped and Ash chuckled, it had begun.

Furious, Wildfire flicked her tail around and Kindle leaped over it, somersaulting in the air and landing nimbly on her feet. The crowd roared. Timber was making his move. While Wildfire's attention was captured by Kindle he leaped towards her, his assegai gleaming in the sun as it plunged into her chest.

The dragon roared and turned towards Timber simultaneously swatting Kindle with her massive tail. Kindle bounced off the arena floor and lie still. Timber's weapon was stuck in her scales so he twisted backwards, performing a series of twisting leaps to stay in motion. To the crowd, the fire just appeared around Timber's twirling form. To Ash it was a thing of beauty. Timber pulled the flames from the dragon and held onto the fire, bonding it to him and spinning faster, feeding oxygen to the growing flame. He was a tornado of flames, spinning ever faster and the crowd screamed in exultation as Timber released the fire at the dragon. The flames wouldn't hurt her and were mostly for show but what a show it was. The crowd was going crazy. He almost looks as though he's creating his own flames. The notion was impossible but Ash grudgingly admitted to himself that Timber was as good as he'd claimed. Wildfire spit fire back at Timber in retaliation and Ash watched him pull it around him and shoot it up towards the dome. The crowd oohed and awed.

A Fire Dancer's ability lay in their power to manipulate the flames to move around them. So long as the dancer anticipated the moves of the dragon and understood their body, Fire was as harmless to them as it was to the dragon. Timber leaped forward to retrieve his assegai and yanked it from Wildfire's chest causing blood to spray across the dirt. The dragon trumpeted in pain and spit another ball of fire that Timber deflected easily with a twisting leap. The fire curved around him and hit the dirt near Kindle's still form. Timber shook his assegai in the air and the crowd really was chanting his name. Ash was so caught up in the fight he didn't care. Let them call out Timber's name for in this moment he was a god and Ash was living through him.

The dragon continued to blow fire at Timber but he had caught the rhythm of her breathing now and she was no match for him. When she raised up on her hind legs he took the opportunity and plunged his assegai deep into her exposed belly, ripping it open. Blood and gore spilled across the arena floor and Wildfire gave a final cry before collapsing to the floor in a heap of dust. As the dust settled around them Timber straddled the fallen beast and raised his assegai to the chanting crowd. His eyes met Ash in his glass chamber and his smile deepened as he inclined his head. Ash suddenly felt impossibly cold and rubbed his arms against the chill.

“She didn't last very long,” Beshar mumbled disappointed. He stood up to leave and Ash followed him not wanting to watch Timber accept his winnings.