to make the first advance.
Anticipatory cheers erupted
from the crowd, and people started placing bets.
Aidan regarded the man,
attempting to assess his movements, but Gaston’s cool demeanor was difficult to
figure out. What is it about him that’s unnerving me? Aidan wondered. That
armor, perhaps, or ... He paused and sniffed at him. Gaston reeked of
blood, though Aidan saw none on his attire. Though it made him feel awkward,
Aidan didn’t bother attempting to bow formally to him; Gaston seemed ready to
prove a point.
Gaston circled him slowly, the
smirk remaining fixed on his weathered face. “Come, Aidan. Your audience awaits .”
Aidan sighed. He reluctantly
threw himself toward Gaston, to grapple with him.
Gaston stood as still as a
statue as Aidan approached. When Aidan was mere footsteps away, Gaston turned
his body slightly and braced for impact. Aidan’s mass moved Gaston a few steps,
but Gaston’s armored body otherwise stayed firm. Aidan prepared to bear-hug
Gaston, but Gaston surprised him with a gauntleted fist to the solar plexus.
Aidan grunted, and his body
folded. Gaston came at him again, aiming another punch at Aidan’s lowered head,
but Aidan leaned back just as the punch brushed past his chin. Aidan countered
by grabbing Gaston’s arm and attempted to sweep him off his feet. Gaston, his
arm still locked in Aidan’s grip, spun backwards and elbowed Aidan hard in his
side. Aidan gasped, feeling one of his ribs crack, and collapsed.
He landed on his back with a
loud thump. The ground trembled.
The crowd roared.
Nester’s jaw dropped. “That’s
not fair! ’E cheated, ’e did!”
Gaston stood over Aidan,
planting his scale-armored boot upon Aidan’s chest. He glowered down. “You
disappoint me, Aidan. I was hoping to make this a worthwhile fight.” Gaston
pressed his foot harder into Aidan’s chest.
Aidan stared up at the man and
then coughed briefly. He eyed the scales on the man’s foot. The armor appeared
rough—like actual scales—despite their metallic shine. He stared at his own
arm, similarly scaled—only the ones on Gaston’s armor were much larger.
“What’s wrong, Aidan?” Gaston
jeered, smiling with amusement. “You look rather confused about something.”
Aidan snorted. The scent of
blood, underlined by a sweetness , grew stronger.
Strength rekindled in his body. Sadness and rage welled in his mind. Aidan
somehow recognized the scent from long ago, but could not recall where. He
wrinkled his nose.
In a single motion, Aidan
heaved up, tossing Gaston onto his back, knocking the wind out of the man.
Pinning Gaston to the ground, Aidan stared into his eyes. All around them, the
crowd cheered.
Gaston stared back at Aidan,
smiling weakly and huffing, out of breath. “What ... are you waiting for?
Finish me ... off.”
“No,” Aidan said promptly. “No
more violence.”
Gaston scoffed, “What does
your kind know about pacifism? Look at you. You’re a savage. Born with power
you know nothing about. And bred to destroy.”
A low growl rumbled in Aidan’s
throat. He glared at Gaston, baring his fangs slightly. “No. Aidan is done with
this. All of this. There is no need for violence.
Someone always gets hurt.”
Unfazed, Gaston continued
looking at him. “Sometimes violence is needed.”
“Now is not time. Aidan is
hungry. And tired.”
“Then go. Run like the scared
little boy that you are. It sounds like the crowd has been entertained enough
by our little scuffle, anyway.” The announcer returned to the ring, and Gaston
turned his head.
“Aidan has successfully pinned
Gaston in submission!” the announcer declared to the cheering crowd. “Ladies
and gentlemen, Aidan prevails once again!”
Another deafening cheer arose,
and the crowd began chanting Aidan’s name.
Aidan pushed himself off Gaston
and stood back, frowning and watching him a moment. Ignoring the chants, Aidan
turned and hastily left the ring. The crowd made a path for him as he
Anticipatory cheers erupted
from the crowd, and people started placing bets.
Aidan regarded the man,
attempting to assess his movements, but Gaston’s cool demeanor was difficult to
figure out. What is it about him that’s unnerving me? Aidan wondered. That
armor, perhaps, or ... He paused and sniffed at him. Gaston reeked of
blood, though Aidan saw none on his attire. Though it made him feel awkward,
Aidan didn’t bother attempting to bow formally to him; Gaston seemed ready to
prove a point.
Gaston circled him slowly, the
smirk remaining fixed on his weathered face. “Come, Aidan. Your audience awaits .”
Aidan sighed. He reluctantly
threw himself toward Gaston, to grapple with him.
Gaston stood as still as a
statue as Aidan approached. When Aidan was mere footsteps away, Gaston turned
his body slightly and braced for impact. Aidan’s mass moved Gaston a few steps,
but Gaston’s armored body otherwise stayed firm. Aidan prepared to bear-hug
Gaston, but Gaston surprised him with a gauntleted fist to the solar plexus.
Aidan grunted, and his body
folded. Gaston came at him again, aiming another punch at Aidan’s lowered head,
but Aidan leaned back just as the punch brushed past his chin. Aidan countered
by grabbing Gaston’s arm and attempted to sweep him off his feet. Gaston, his
arm still locked in Aidan’s grip, spun backwards and elbowed Aidan hard in his
side. Aidan gasped, feeling one of his ribs crack, and collapsed.
He landed on his back with a
loud thump. The ground trembled.
The crowd roared.
Nester’s jaw dropped. “That’s
not fair! ’E cheated, ’e did!”
Gaston stood over Aidan,
planting his scale-armored boot upon Aidan’s chest. He glowered down. “You
disappoint me, Aidan. I was hoping to make this a worthwhile fight.” Gaston
pressed his foot harder into Aidan’s chest.
Aidan stared up at the man and
then coughed briefly. He eyed the scales on the man’s foot. The armor appeared
rough—like actual scales—despite their metallic shine. He stared at his own
arm, similarly scaled—only the ones on Gaston’s armor were much larger.
“What’s wrong, Aidan?” Gaston
jeered, smiling with amusement. “You look rather confused about something.”
Aidan snorted. The scent of
blood, underlined by a sweetness , grew stronger.
Strength rekindled in his body. Sadness and rage welled in his mind. Aidan
somehow recognized the scent from long ago, but could not recall where. He
wrinkled his nose.
In a single motion, Aidan
heaved up, tossing Gaston onto his back, knocking the wind out of the man.
Pinning Gaston to the ground, Aidan stared into his eyes. All around them, the
crowd cheered.
Gaston stared back at Aidan,
smiling weakly and huffing, out of breath. “What ... are you waiting for?
Finish me ... off.”
“No,” Aidan said promptly. “No
more violence.”
Gaston scoffed, “What does
your kind know about pacifism? Look at you. You’re a savage. Born with power
you know nothing about. And bred to destroy.”
A low growl rumbled in Aidan’s
throat. He glared at Gaston, baring his fangs slightly. “No. Aidan is done with
this. All of this. There is no need for violence.
Someone always gets hurt.”
Unfazed, Gaston continued
looking at him. “Sometimes violence is needed.”
“Now is not time. Aidan is
hungry. And tired.”
“Then go. Run like the scared
little boy that you are. It sounds like the crowd has been entertained enough
by our little scuffle, anyway.” The announcer returned to the ring, and Gaston
turned his head.
“Aidan has successfully pinned
Gaston in submission!” the announcer declared to the cheering crowd. “Ladies
and gentlemen, Aidan prevails once again!”
Another deafening cheer arose,
and the crowd began chanting Aidan’s name.
Aidan pushed himself off Gaston
and stood back, frowning and watching him a moment. Ignoring the chants, Aidan
turned and hastily left the ring. The crowd made a path for him as he
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