The City of Ionia

Commonly known as the “Musical City,” Walisburg did not disappoint. The city was filled with inescapable festive cheers and danceable music. It was a night where even the food stall workers would have little to no care for their job, drinking booze and yelling along with their customers. Everyone enjoyed the celebrations that shook the very foundations of the buildings on the small yet crowded streets.

The surrounding towns compacted the cobblestone streets, not caring about anything but enjoyment. I’d never seen so many people in one area before.

From the distance stood the Royal Palace. Anyone could notice it anywhere in the city. Standing tall on a podium, a white and gold filigree palace encased a ginormous purple lotus blossom as its shell.

It stood out like a shiny statue in a junkyard.

We slipped through the crowds, cutting across the elegantly arcing roadways. My ears couldn’t escape the music, which almost overshadowed the noises of parents yelling for their children.

No building was taller than four stories (besides the Royal Palace), and no building was dense with families. Everyone was outside. The lanterns hung off the buildings, gently swaying in the wind as they emulated Walisburg.

“Hey Jill, look! That food stall doesn’t have a line.” Tim dragged us all to the empty stall.

Behind the stall was a petite, redhead woman who looked awfully pretty to be working at a food stall. She had unique green eyes that were foreign to me. Never once in my life had I seen someone with green eyes. They were stunning.

Owen casually leaned his elbow on the counter. He faced the women sideways, with his head tilting.

“Hello there, the name’s Owen. May I ask for your most delicious meal to offer?”

Since when did he talk like that?

“Ya, I’ll take something too…” Tim said, oddly looking at Owen.

The women scoffed. “We’re closed. If you want food, though, other food stalls towards the Royal Palace won’t close for a while.”

“How upsetting. I wished to get a fine delicately from your hands. Maybe you could make it up by showing me around the city. I’ve never been to this lively place before.”

“Owen, I don’t think your girlfriend would like that.” Roger obnoxiously shouted.

Owen pushed himself off the counter. “G-G-Girlfriend! What the hell are you talking about, Roger?! Don’t say random stuff like that!”

“Wow, you were willing to take me out right in front of your girlfriend? How pathetic are you?”

A wave of heat spiked up my face. “N-No! No, no, no, no! You got it all wrong. I’m not anything like that!”

“Ya, that’s right. We just live together, that’s all.”

He’s making it worse!

She let out a chuckle, poorly covering her mouth. It almost reminded me of someone who did the same. “You people are funny. Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of the festival.” She kindheartedly smiled, walking away from the stalls and disappearing through the crowd.

Tim looked uncharacteristically depressed. “Awwww. I wanted to eat something.”

Owen grabbed Roger’s shirt by the collar, which was surprising considering Roger's height. “You little—I had the perfect chance, and you ruined it! Who the hell does that sort of stuff?”

“Relax, you aggravated bumblebee! There’s plenty more flowers in the shop.”

“Ya, and how many are you gonna step on!”

Roger, like always, wore a cocky grin on his face. Owen was ready to blow it off with a punch.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a herd of people rushing across the street, jumping excitedly. I had time to kill since I planned to wait until it was less busy, so I would let my curiosity control me for now.

“Guys, I’m going to see what’s happening there.” I pointed to where I was heading, and they all dropped their idiotic argument and tailed me.

Within a minute, we learned what everyone was rushing towards. A wooden stage, big enough for it to stand out, where an ample amount of people gathered in front. Above the wooden floor, a white light illuminated the area, making it easier for people to see the stage. There was no way we outsiders had the power for this type of technology. This was most certainly the work of the Ionians, though I wasn’t sure why the Ionians would give us the ability to shine light this bright.

Not that I cared. It was just a thought.

On stage was one colossal person who looked to carry thousands of boulders for years.

“This man won sixteen matches in a row! The undefeated champ is too glorious for our own good! Does someone have the courage even to attempt to take him down,” roared the announcer with a megaphone.

“I’m assuming it’s a sparring match?” I asked while scratching my head.

A random person turned their head around. They must’ve heard my question, which I asked no one.

“Yes! This marvelous man is insane! I watched him earlier, and he’s too good for us! He could easily be a general in the Walisburg’s army! His strength and skill is unmatched!”

Really?

The announcer roared once again. “Does anyone wish to challenge him? Anyone?”

No one said anything. It was the quietest it had been since I’d gotten here.

“Jill,” said Roger, leaning into my ear, “I say you should go.”

“Wha—No! I’m not going to spar this man.”

Not because I didn’t think I would win but because I didn’t feel like it.

The man in front of me turned around once more. “You want to spar this man? A beautiful gem like you would risk your face for our entertainment? You’re a saint from the divine. Everyone!” He grabbed me like a child, flinging me onto his shoulders. “This beautiful woman would like to spar the Armadillo!”

“The Arma—What?! I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to stay in the back without showing my presence. The entire crowd roared with cheers.

“An opponent, and a gorgeous one, to be exact! How lovely! Come up here, my lady.”

I surfed across the crowd until I was on stage. The announcer led me behind a curtain, where a rack of wooden weapons and a few shields and helmets lay around. I plugged my nose shut, kicking the helmets away from me. The air reeked of moldy sweat.

My weapon of choice was a wooden sword. It was used, and its blade chipped slightly, but it would do. Once ready, I gave the announcer a thumbs-up and was escorted back onto the main stage.

The crowd’s cheer was loud enough to shake the ground. I looked towards the back to see if I could spot the boys. They were there somewhere, cheering on along with the others. This was my first time sparring in front of a large crowd. Usually, it would be Roger who oversaw the matches with Owen and me. This time, however, the atmosphere was entirely different. It felt more electrifying.

“As you can see, this woman isn’t wearing head protection! She has the courage of God!”

Um, no. Courage had nothing to do with it.

“And now, we have the Armadillo versus the…” he held the megaphone aside, privately asking me, “And what shall you be called?”

“Call me whatever.”

“O-okay.” He cleared his throat and placed the megaphone near his mouth. And now, we have the Armadillo versus the Whatever!”

That's not what I meant...

The colossal madman in front of me had the biceps of a monster. His ominous physical appearance stood out like a fire in a bottomless abyss. His brown skin was oiled so that everyone would admire his muscular body.

He was a giant compared to Roger, who said something. He also wasn’t wearing any protection gear.

I mean, an undefeated champion wouldn’t care.

He gripped a wooden ax almost as big as he was.

“So!” The announcer shouted, “The rules are straightforward. Fight till one gives up! And without further delay, you may now begin!!” The crowd erupted with yells.

“So, whatever, are you sure you don’t want to tap out? This is your last warning.” The Armadillo sounded like he hadn’t drunk water in three years.

Did he call me "whatever?" I thought.

“I appreciate the offer, but I won’t tap out in front of everyone.”

“Very well. It’s a shame that someone beautiful like you will permanently have a dented forehead.” He sounded disappointed, but that could be because of his misleading voice.

He charged at me, swinging his ax sideways. I leaped over the ax and elbowed him in the jaw.

“Wow! Incredible! Not even thirty seconds in, she already struck the Armadillo's untouchable face!”

Really? I mean, it wasn’t difficult at all.

“Curse you! Prepare to face my wrath!”

That’s what they all say.

The man charged once again like a raging bull. I deflected a few strikes, but things weren’t looking so good. I would lose in a heartbeat if it came down to pure muscle strength. Our weapons collided as the man continued the attack, forcing me to defend.

The massive crowd gasped as I collapsed onto the wood. My finger stroked my temple, checking for blood. Nothing was there. That hit would injure anybody else. But to me, it felt like an annoying sting. This sting made me feel a rush I hadn’t felt in years.

The rush of getting stuck by a stronger opponent.

It was reviving.

I got up, brushing the sting away. The man froze with his mouth wide open.

“Was that your best?” I asked with my head down.

The thrill of a fight. It felt so nostalgic.

“Wha—How are you still up?” He couldn't even move; it was like an explosion of confusion within his head, and all he could do was witness this moment. It was entirely unfamiliar to him.

The man’s arms wobbled as sweat was dripping from his forehead.

“I’m done warming up.”

I sprang at the man like a lightning bolt. I jumped up, raising my sword, aiming for his head. The man tried to defend himself but was quickly kicked in the stomach, causing him to bend over. I leaped over him and hammered him with the butt of the sword in the back of the head, forcing his face to eat the wood. His stick landed out of his reach.

I pointed the sword at his nape. “I suggest you surrender.”

His face was stuffed with wood as screams and yells erupted from the audience.

“Impossible! How can someone frail like you defeat me?”

Without saying anything, I dropped my stick before him and walked away. I didn’t see the need to pursue the match any longer.