Nasty Little Witchling

“Our dear mercenaries probably wouldn’t have worn so much steel if they knew what we had in store for them tonight,” the announcer said with too much glee in his voice. “Please welcome to the area, our bulgasari.”

I was distracted and about to clap before I noticed no one else was. The balcony was silent, but the crowd booed as an iron door was pulled up. A long flickering trunk with a spiked end exited first, followed by two needle-like tusks poking upwards to either side of a brown-furred head and rounded ears. The bulgasari was thrashing their weight about, trying to chomp on the steel poles to either side of them that connected to an iron collar.

They didn’t acknowledge my attempts to calm them, only having eyes and thoughts for the metal so close to their mouth.

Whoever was holding the other ends of those poles was having a hard time keeping the person-sized creature at bay while the announcer introduced the second contender.

“How cruel the organisers must have been to place these two monsters in the same arena,” the announcer said as a different iron door opened. “What I want to know is which one of our great minds gave this fearsome specimen such a mediocre name, introducing a returning attraction, the stripped-tail goanna.”

I didn’t focus on the faded white rings circling the black scales of the goanna’s tail but rather on the spiked ball waving at the end of it. Unlike the bulgasari, they were pushed out of their doorway backwards without any collar since they had no mana.

The goanna’s curved talons dug into the ground as it turned away from the closing door, their tail bashing against it with a violent ring that echoed off the walls around us. Back on the other side of the arena, the collar around the bulgasari’s neck came undone and was pulled back along with the poles, retreating into the falling doorway.

I gasped as the goanna hissed in pain at the arrow protruding from their shoulder. They easily identified the centaur as the source of the pain and charged forward.

“I’d like to remind our participants to please not kill each other; some of you are very expensive,” the announcer said to a roar of laughter from the crowd.

My arms were folded into the sleeves of my blouse while I dug my nails into them, agitating the healing bruise on one side. The goanna had cared to listen before that arrow hit them, not that I had any clue how to end this as bloodlessly as the Hound Chase.

Nickolas was drawing back another arrow, losing it just above Petrick’s head as he stood guard against the approaching reptile. The enchantment on the steel-tipped arrow came to life just before it hit, sparking with lightning that debilitated the rampaging creature, causing them to crash into Petrick’s shield without any control.

Dyana had been tasked with warding off the smaller and more agile bulgasari, who desperately wanted to take a bite of the spear tip she was waving in their face, batting away the trunk that occasionally darted out.

Aisling stood still, her eyes locked on the bulgasari, silver hair drifting in the breeze created by the spell she kept pouring mana into. Dyana drew the creature lengthwise to Aisling before the spell was unleashed, a blast of air toppling the bulgasari over for Dyana to drive her spear into their belly.

The crowd behind the spell cheered with their now wind-swept hair, and I stopped digging my nails so I wouldn’t have to explain why there was blood on my white blouse. It sickened me to sit there watching, feeling what those creatures were going through and not being able to stop it.

Should I start screaming for it to end?

Should I drop down and get between them?

I was a coward for choosing neither, but I told myself it wouldn’t help and might even get me killed by the enraged animals or a stray arrow. Alisa had talked of creatures that would go out of the way to attack people, and while the conditions were not fair, I was slowly considering these might be some.

Dyana’s spear got stuck on a rib as she tried to rip it out, the bulgasari getting their trunk wrapped around long enough to bite the end off when it was extracted. A horrible grating noise came as they chewed through the steel.

The wound on their underbelly closed over with a glimmer as the bony spike at the end of their trunk was covered in steel.

“Ooo, we will not be reimbursing that one,” the announcer said. “Luckily for Dyana, she seems to have brought a spare with her. Let’s not give the metal-eating monster of the mines another meal, shall we?”

The metallic manipulation was interesting to consider studying, but that was as far as it got in my fraying mind.

Dyana had to unshrink her replacement spear while another one of Aisling’s spells uprooted a bush to shove itself into the bulgasari’s face, their sharpened trunk slashing through the shrubbery.

Nickolas and Petrick were having an easier time with the typical animal that now looked like a pin cushion. The goanna whirled their entire body around in a burst of motion that sent their tail hurtling towards Petrick. A layer of haze covered his shield, and he braced with his muscles full of mana.

It wasn’t enough to stop the overwhelming force as he tumbled to the ground a few yards back, Nickolas getting another shot in at the same time to prevent Petrick from being raked over with claws. The mana shield saved the real one from a significant dent, but Petrick’s arms needed shaking off before he was able to heft it up again.

Dyana used the butt of her newly grown spear to vault over a charging bulgasari, her calf getting sliced open in the process. The crowd didn’t care or actually enjoyed the close call as they cheered.

The bulgasari replaced her in the predicament she’d been in, up against the wall with dense shrubbery on either side of them on the sandy race track. Aisling hit them with another blast of air that shoved them into the wall. Immediately, she started tangling together a spell to shake the sand below.

As the bulgasari sank into the sand, water poured over them from Dyana’s spell, which Aisling utilised when she solidified the muddy mixture over their opponent's shoulders.

Both were now free to turn to the hissing goanna, who thought at this point they’d put up enough of a fight not to be punished later and let their front leg with two protruding arrows crumple to the ground on their next step towards the shield bearer.

Healers rushed out of the sides along with armoured mages who created extra walls around the already immobile creatures for the healers to reach each arrow and wound. The pain vanished, but the anger remained.

The ringing in my ears blocked out the announcer while I sniffed and dug a finger into the corner of my eye. Someone placed a hand over the leg I’d been bouncing the whole fight, and I was ready to take my own anger out on whoever it was.

Annalise placed a glass of water in my hand, stopping me from attempting.

“You look pale,” she said and continued when I didn’t respond with more than a blank stare. “Father thinks you're not enjoying the fight because the beasts didn’t win. That the next fight might even things out.”

I looked over at the duke with his legs crossed, an arm draped over the side of his chair, dangling a crystal glass clinking with ice and spirit. I hated how…casual he looked. “What counts as a win?”

“A fatal wound on one of the participants,” Annalise said as she studied my face. “But don’t worry, a lot of people are looking out for them from the sidelines.”

Both the goanna and bulgasari were shuffled into enchanted wooded cages to be carted out of the arena. Healers still sat with Dyana to fix her leg while staff handed Nickolas another quiver.

“I understand the races,” I said. “I understand the treasure hunt. I understand two people pummeling each other and shaking hands afterwards. This is…”

“You consider those a valid form of entertainment,” Annalise said. “Other people consider this to be.”

“This can’t just be a difference of opinion,” I said.

“Oh, but it can,” Baron Tiscar said, overhearing our conversation now that the crowd had died down. “People vote with their roe, and the roe says this next fight is the biggest recurring event in the whole duchy. That bulgasari was rescued from a mine in the west; if we didn’t take it, they would have killed it. Same with the cat-sìth, the elvish village we bought it from didn’t want it 'cause it couldn’t have a litter.”

“What my father means to say,” Amir said, leaning forward to block the baron from my retort. “Is that there is an appetite for the sport, and someone needs to provide it, better someone who will do what’s best for all involved.”

The announcer interrupted my thoughts of replying. “Our competitors seem no worse for the wear they sustained in that little tussle. I’m sure they’re ready for our main event, don’t you?

He waited a moment for the shouting to peter off. “I’ll hand you off to our leader, Duke Riker, for a few words while we bring out what most of you bought tickets to see. Betting is still open if you feel you know which direction this scrap will go between our brave warriors and the terror of the night.”

The duke stood up and stepped up to the railing, the barons following suit. I stood up when the rest of the balcony also did to clap with the audience. They all looked to the duke, but I felt eyes settle on me for a moment and attempted to at least stop frowning.

“Thank you…thank you,” the duke said, smiling and waving while mana amplified his voice. “I want to thank you all for putting up with the increased security so my family and I could enjoy this riveting event alongside you….I sadly lost some roe here today, but lucky for me, my partner knows how to pick ‘em.”

He didn’t deserve the long cheer and whistling that came after, and it upset me that my lips twitched up into a smile from my part in that luck.

“To the competitors earlier and our brave warriors standing in the arena now, I thank you for the dedication you show in honing your skills to compete and, in doing so, making this a great event for us. And thank you to Baron Tiscar and Baron Olivihier for inviting me…Good luck in this next match.”

He and the two barons stood and waved for a while longer before sitting down, the rest of us sitting after they did. An iron box big enough to hold Missy, if she bent her neck down a bit, was pulled out onto the sand below us.

The strongest lights shining onto the arena were extinguished, so the middle was now dimly lit. The four mercenaries moved to the farthest edge from the box, or rather a cage, where ample light from the audience leaked onto the field.

My suspicion that inside was the one I’d been able to sense clearly was confirmed when the front of the metal cage fell forward, and a pitch-black shape dashed out with a deep growl. The cat-sìth’s mind became clear as they headed into the shadowy brush in the centre of the arena and disappeared from sight and mana sense. I ignored how she was managing to bend the shadows around her and collected myself so I could try to be convincing.

You don’t need to fight them, I thought. You can just hide like that, and they’ll end the fight in a draw,

The same growl echoed in my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. Even my forebears have come to forsaken me?

No, I’m in the audience, and I’m trying to help.

Ahh, one of my roaring spectators, they snarked.

The mercenaries had formed a defensive area with the wall covering them from behind. Petrick was in the lead with his short sword drawn out to the side of his shield. Dyana's spear was stuck out the opposite way while Aisling was off just behind them, preparing a light spell in one hand and a shield in the other.

Nickolas was looking over their heads, scanning the surroundings with his drawn bow.

The light spell was thrown towards the cat-sìth, the shadows leaving and revealing the charging creature. Petrick knelt so Dyana could bring her spear over the top. Aisling’s spell hit Petrick at the same time as clawed paws tried to come around the side of the physical shield.

Slashes of air originating from each of her claws impacted the haze and dissipated. She ducked her head back from an arrow but took a spear to the shoulder and retreated back into the shadows now that Aisling’s light was gone. The mana shield around Petrick dropped, and he glanced around now that he could see clearly again.

Are you okay? I thought. I don’t know how to stop this.

Ah, I found you.

Two yellow orbs stared up at me from the shadows. She was fine and even enjoying the hunt but felt stifled by the walls, the mages standing guard over her from atop them, and her limited mana from the time in the iron cage.

Do you still think I can hide from them? She asked.

No…she’s throwing another light spell on your left.

She was slow to respond to my warning but was far enough away from Aisling’s spell not to have it disturb her camouflage.

For once, the crowd was silent enough for Nickolas to hear the faintest rustle of brush and loose arrows towards it. They started moving up to the light Aisling had tossed, Petrick slowly turning his shield to the side Nickolas had last shot at.

The elf has a sunbeam prepared, I warned as she rushed in again.

Petrick turned to where the cat-sìth appeared when she got close enough to the light or to sense. Aisling was unable to throw out the same spell Zara had used against me outside Tamil, with both Petrick and Dyana between her and the target.

Petrick ducked his head behind his shield and Dyana lifted her arm to take the slashes on their chainmail and plate armour. The two kept trying to pivot the large predator bearing down on them towards Aisling, who was rotating more and more out of the defensive position to get a shot.

Arrow on your right.

Nickolas had rotated the other way and got a good shot at her broadside, a cushion of air managing to slow and divert the arrow before it sunk into her shoulder. Petrick was stumbling back under her weight, and Dyana couldn’t place both hands on her spear to drive it forward from the threat the claws posed.

Another arrow.

There was no hesitation this time as she disengaged, beams of light flashing after her from Aisling, a few hitting. She and Nickolas reformed behind the others and a light was thrown up directly above them.

The cat-sìth hid behind a bush and tore the arrow out of her shoulder using her teeth.

“A few exciting exchanges, both parties slowly chipping away at each other,” the announcer said in a lower voice than normal. “I hope Aisling keeps her spells aimed low. Scorching the wall adds character; scorching a spectator adds a chancery session to your calendar.”

Are you okay? I asked and got a feeling of reassurance in return this time. Light coming your way.

The orb thrown towards her chased away the shadows and revealed the cat-sìth licking her shoulder.

Arrow.

Nickolas notched another as his fist sunk into the ground. Aisling watered the ground to her side and churned it into a patch of deep mud. They stood with it to their back. Petrick off in front of Aisling with Dyana behind him.

The cat-sìth dashed forward, weaving between arrows after nudging them out of the way with her control of the air but still taking another in the side. Petrick had purposefully left a space so that Aisling had an area to raise a dirt wall into.

I quickly babbled through what I thought was going to take place and warned the cat-sìth as the spell was released.

As the wall shot up, she was already prepared to launch herself up in the air. Petrick and Dyana had been waiting to drive their blades into a creature that had just run full tilt into a wall. Their heads were slow to turn towards the leaping predator.

Everything slowed as Aisling let go of the wall spell and started tying a shield together, backing up into the mud and losing her footing for an instant. The string of Nickolas’ bow shook in its resting place, the force from it being transferred to the arrow sailing through the air.

Two sets of long canines poked out of her wide open jaw, above the rest of the rows of sharp teeth, claws swiping out towards the retreating mage. Annalise was on her feet, putting together her own spell just like a few of the mages stationed on the walls while healers jumped down.

The padding of the gambison covering Aisling’s stomach tore open as the first slash landed. The steel plate on her chest screeched as two marks were scratched into it, her padded arm already up to block her face.

The bottom portion of her long silver hair flittered in the wind as the last hazy concentration of air cut through it. I regretted that I now knew what the inside of a neck looked like, just like all those townsfolk who were at the execution.

Two mages on the sideline had to stop the spell they were trying to cast in order to put up a shield to block Nickolas’ arrow, which had been shot too high.

Petrick was pushing past a stunned Dyana to run into the cat-sìth tearing into Aisling’s fallen body, knocking the heavy animal into the mud just as a collection of spells hit, all competing to activate their effect.

A late addition to the mess won out, and the cat-sìth was made to weigh many times what they usually did, toppling her over into the mud on top of where the head landed. One healer blew into a tube, a dart leaving it and hitting her in the rear. Another two darts followed, with the poison on them quickly taking effect to sedate the struggling cat-sìth.

She wasn’t dead. Aisling wasn’t dead. There were so many healers around. Reattaching a head sounded like something Morris could do. Janette. Janette was…somewhere, she could heal her. There were healers all around us.

I didn’t know when I had stood up, but Annalise was dragging me away and into the sitting room. Her lips moved, and her eyes darted about, but I couldn’t hear her over the pounding in my ears. I was sat down on the couch opposite Isla, whose big blue eyes didn’t display any of the joy I’d grown used to.

They were replaced by Annalise’s worried expression as she knelt in front of me.

“Damn it,” Baron Tiscar shouted and kicked a chair on the balcony, pushing his hair back and pacing. “They’re taking too long.”

“She’s got time,” the duke said, bracing himself on the glass railing.

“They’ve got it,” Janette said from the balcony. “He’s needing to use too much mana for the heal.”

“I have mana,” I mumbled, unable to hear my own voice.

Annalise looked back at me. “What?”

“I have mana. I have a lot of mana. I-I c-can help, it’s...” I couldn’t say anymore as I got up to rush to the lavatory. My stomach heaved at the memory playing repeatedly in my mind, but nothing came as Annalise shut the door behind us and held my hair.

She placed a hand on my back, running her thump along my spine. “It’s okay…It’s okay. Just breathe.”

After I stopped reaching and grew tired of sitting on my knees, I got up. Only to stumble into Annalise. She half carried me out the door to stricken looks and angry scowls. Janette shook her head when Annalise looked at her and motioned that it was time for us to leave.

I didn’t feel the steps under my feet as Annalise led me down and out a different door we had come through. The change from the warm hallways to the cold street shocked me enough to notice we were getting into the duke’s carriage.

Janette pulled my head onto her shoulder, and in a blink, the door was opening again to the sights of the palace.

“I’m going to have to contact the elven leadership about this fuck up,” the duke said with a sigh, a hand over his face, digging into his temples.

Janette backhanded him in the chest, and he looked over at me and tried to smile. “That doesn’t usually happen…ever. I’m sorry you witnessed that.”

I nodded without fully understanding what he was saying. Janette led me inside and sat me on my bed before pulling out my nightgown. I fell back onto the covers, not caring what I slept in.

Janette pulled me up and started slipping off my shoes, eventually uncovering my fading yellow bruises. She asked what happened but gave up when I didn’t respond.

It was wrong to make her dress me, so I stood when instructed and lifted my arms when she pushed them up.

I was laid down, soft lips touching my cheek before the lights went out, and I was left staring at the curtain concealing my balcony door.

Wondering what I had just done.