So, yeah... double post... all the way... Don't really know what it means, though

The doctor looked over his glasses at Ian and said with a sly smile, “Ian, you’ve been in bed with no food or water for three days.  I think that, mixed with a head-rush, would be quite painful.  I assure you that my treatment fixed everything that could have been wrong with you from the battle.”  He glanced down at his clipboard as he continued, “I want you to drink at least three cups of water before you go, and eat a large dinner tonight,” Ian’s stomach rumbled at the thought of dinner, “though I don’t think you’ll need me to order you to tell you to do that.”  And with that, he stood up and walked out.

Not needing much more incentive to leave, Ian quickly got up, ignored the headache that came with his sudden rising up, took off the infirmary garments, and was reaching for his cloak, and nearly jumped out of fright when the nurse silently came back in with a tray with four cups placed on them, three brown, and one black.  He quickly donned his robe, holding his blue belt in his mouth.

“The doctor wants you to drink all of these.  The brown ones are water, and the black one is a special remedy that the doctor set up just for you.  It should give you the energy to get to your next meal since you’ve been without food for three whole days.  Take that one first.” 

“Thank you,” the words came out of Ian’s mouth as he grabbed his belt from his lips, and brought the black cup up to replace it.  The grimace on his face came quicker than the taste came to his realization.  “Ugh! What is this stuff?”  It was then that he looked down and saw the black gloop which he was pouring into his mouth.  Drawing the cup away from his lips, he set it back down on the tray.  “I’m not drinking that. No way.”

“Sorry hon,” came the nurse’s indifferent toned reply, her free hand now placed on her hip, “Doctor’s orders. At least I told you to drink it first, so you can wash it down with the water afterwards.”

The thought of drinking that sludge, even with a chaser, wasn’t very appetizing, but orders were orders, and he knew the way that the infirmary was set up, even though he’d never been there before.  Once you’re admitted, you can’t leave until you do everything that the doctor has prescribed for you to do; it was some sort of ancient magic that had been lost throughout the many years since the start of the arena.

With gritted teeth, and a renewed hunger for dinner, Ian brought the black cup of plague-tasting slop to his mouth, and for a split second contemplated waggling his fingers and making it taste like home-made chicken broth, but thought better of it, He didn’t know how the two magics would react together, and he didn’t really feel like growing a second head that day, so he took a deep breath and held his nose as he felt the slime ooze its way down his throat, where it sat, and made him feel comfortably full.

“See, now that wasn’t so bad, now was it dearie?” the nurse’s voice didn’t sound like she was patronizing him, but Ian couldn’t help but imagine it being there.  He quickly downed the three, earthen cups of water, glad for the taste of something else besides death in a cup.  After fastening his belt, and grabbing his chain-staff, he was out of the door faster than a herd of stampeding buffalo.

With the infirmary behind him, Ian ran to the nearest car station, which was only a block away, and seated himself in a small, red, teardrop shaped container with a hatch on its side.  Once inside, the container’s walls turned clear, and a voice came on.  “Welcome, Ian.  Where would you like to go today?”

“Take me home, please. I need food. And take the fastest route possible, I have three days of studying on which I need to catch up.”

“Understood,” came the voice, “would you care for any entertainment for the journey?”

Ian thought for a moment, rubbing the fringes of his robe sleeves between his fingers, before answering with “Show me the duel I was in a couple days ago.  The one against Gregory.”  He wanted to see if what the doctor had told him was true, if he really had caused a serious blow to Gregory.

“As you wish, sir.”  As the vehicle started moving and the town around him became the town beneath him, and then the town behind him, a square box showed up on the walls of the vehicle, just in front of Ian.  He immediately recognized the forested arena in which he had battled. The small clearing where he was dropped off, and on the other side of the split viewing box was Gregory, dropped off somewhere else.  Stealth and reconnaissance, were both important for this particular arena, and Gregory didn’t really have much of either, Ian had learned.  Gregory’s strategy was to blast his way through the forest, obliterating all hiding places.  The one thing he had going for him was his stamina, both physically and magically.

 He was actually one of the older arena combatants, but had never really gotten powerful enough to make the jump to the next level, but instead was held back, and over time had become the “initiator” for the new arena contestants.  Even though he wasn’t considered powerful, being one of the oldest he had become an honorary member of the Hundred- the fifth house which held the most powerful and influential arena combatants.  These mages never died, supposedly kept alive by some ancient magic, at least while they were still part of the Hundred.  There were those who lost their status through losses in the arena, or sometimes even just politics, but some of them, just a handful of these magi had been alive since the founding of the arena, or so the rumors went.

Ian shook his head as the replay of the arena came to the point where he jumped from his hiding spot and threw his chained scythe at Gregory, trying to trip him.  He winced as he watched himself get yanked by his chain straight into a fireball.  Fortunately for him, he had done some research on his opponent and found out that Gregory was a fire user, and practically never used any other kinds of spells.  With this knowledge, he had found a source of water early on, and doused himself in water.  He also amplified the fire repellent power of the water with a simple protection incantation that he had picked up in the Library just the day prior.

He remembered the small burns he got, touching his face, where the pain was the worst, seeing as he got it straight to the face.  At this point of the replay, Ian was right next to Gregory, which should have been good for Ian, since Gregory was horrible when it came to close range combat, or so the books had said, but apparently his experiences in the arena had toughened him up, for try as hard as he could, Ian could not land a blow against him.  Even when he thought a blow would land, it seemed as if an invisible force stopped his blade from striking his target.  “Some sort of spell I bet, why didn’t I think of that sooner?” Ian muttered under his breath, angry at his own ignorance in the heat of the battle.

After the initial attacks on each other, the battle slowed down a lot.  It mostly involved Ian dodging a lot of fireballs, bursting into flame behind him and causing the foliage to catch fire.  This is actually kind of boring to watch, Ian thought to himself.  Gregory would throw fire at him, Ian would dodge it, or block it with his own power, forming a shield in front of him, and then launch a sort of water attack of his own against Gregory, never really soaking him as he had wanted to do.  The process would continue for at least another ten minutes, if his recollection of time was at all present during the battle, regardless of the status of his ability to analyze things. 

“Could you skip ahead to my part? I don’t really want to watch the same thing happening over and over again, especially if I looked that terrible.”  I’ll never get the support I need to get up to the higher levels if I keep fighting like this. 

“As you wish, sir,” came the predictable response.

A ‘quick flash of the box, and the view of the battle was showing Ian, panting heavily, leaning on his staff.  Gregory’s banter came through loud and clear, and that’s when Ian watched, eager to see what he looked like.  He wasn’t allowed to wear any outstanding clothing like the higher ups were, so all of his rapport with the crowd had to come from actual ability, not flowing capes, or armor that shined brighter that the suns that orbited the plane.  He watched as the power he released during the spell caused small distortions in the viewing box, that would get a few people interested, at least. 

He continued to look on, as his arms followed the practiced pattern to release his staff into its chained form while Gregory started his own movements to cast yet another fireball.  As Gregory released his spell, just a tiny bead of fire, which, as Ian knew from first-hand experience, would explode when it reached its destination, Ian saw just how perfectly timed his teleportation was.  The screen, which was focused on Ian, showed Ian standing still, preparing his spell, and then, right as the explosion hit the area in which he was standing, unless you really were studying the image, you’d think that he was hit by the spell full force, but Ian knew that he had teleported right behind Gregory, which was off the screen at the moment.

The chain seemed to come from nowhere, but latched securely into Gregory’s flesh, and Ian enjoyed watching the smile rip off Gregory’s face as he realized he had actually been hit.  Ian’s face lit up with excitement as he watched himself rushing forward, arm poised to strike, being pulled along by his chain.  His pose was perfect, his strike rang true, and he saw the light as he released his energy into Gregory, causing what appeared to be a grievous wound.  He saw the blood on his blade, and the smile on his face as he landed, just ten feet away, dust still unsettled.  He looked like a victor.  And Gregory’s face was priceless, unable to believe that he had been hit must have caused him to put a little more juice into his next spell, for the next fireball was not just larger than any which he had previously cast, but also was also much deeper red in color.

The screen cut away as an announcer appeared, “If you’ve seen any other first timers fight Gregory before, you can tell that this new pup might turn into quite the underdog someday.  He had an amazing almost comeback, which has never been seen before.  And, I don’t know about you, Ralph, but that last trick he did, with the teleportation followed up by a swift attack might become a thing among the fans of the lower leveled duels.”

The screen zoomed out to include Ralph, the other announcer, “That’s right, Bob, but will Ian have what it takes to actually win a fight, sure he’s new and has some innate talent, but will he be able to hone that talent and use the experience that he’s been given to help him take it to the next level?  I guess we’ll just have to find out when he has his next duel in a few more days.”

“Oh, that’s right, Ralph, although, I’m not sure that duel would be the correct term to use, seeing as it’s practically a free-for-all for all the new guys.  It’ll be exciting to watch, I think Ian might have the upper hand in the upcoming match.”

“Though, if you put it like that, Bob, the others are likely to gang up on him so that he doesn’t end up winning, which would really hurt his places in the rankings.”

“You know, you have a point there, Ralph, but regardless, it’s going to be exciting, especially since the arena in which this battle royale will take place has never been used before.”

“Is that so, Bob?”

“Yup, they just finished building it, Ralph and everyone is anxious to see what it will be like.”     

“That’s right Bob, so, stay tuned in as we go over the different combatants and their usual strategies during these next four days before the combat starts.” Ralph smiled and shuffled his papers as the screen transitioned to a guy with crazy hair dancing around with a huge smile on his face, holding a package of some sort. 

“Ugh, I hate advertisements. You can turn it off now, thank you.” Ian’s voice almost startled himself, he talked a little louder than he intended, probably because he was quiet for the whole exchange.

“Of course, sir.” The wall of the floating carriage turned clear again, and Ian could see the golden and red leaves of the trees far beneath him as they traveled over the forests of Tarken.  “An observation, if I might be so forward.”

“Yes?”  It wasn’t like magical entities to give compliments, but Ian figured that he might be worthy of such a gift if it was offered, especially for his first duel.

“That bit was from three days ago.”

Ian’s face contorted as he tried to figure out what the ME was getting at.  “Yes, what does that have to do with anything?”

The ME chimed in without missing a beat.  “If my memory serves correctly, the announcer said that all the new combatants would be in the battle royale.”

Ian still wasn’t getting it.  “And?” came his snippy reply.

“Well, seeing as the recording was three days ago, and that the battle royale was four days from that, and the fact that there is a day’s prep required for any combat that happens in the arena, I think your current destination may be wrong if you are hoping to further your current career path.”

The realization hit Ian like a ton of feathers. Not just any feathers either.  Feathers from brick birds.  “Please take me to the Combat Center, will we be able to make it in time?”

“We should make it in before the deadline, but only if you make either a fast run to the center, or if you jump out as I fly overhead.”  Ian held on as he felt the vehicle changing direction and speeding up, almost perfectly backtracking their previous line of travel. 

Ian fidgeted as he sat in his transportation, unable to calm his anxiety about whether or not he’d be able to make it to the center in time.  He had an opportunity here that not many new combatants got, Bob and Ralph actually seemed to be rooting for him, which many of the spectators of his sport would take as Gospel and be rooting for him, especially those who were particularly fond of Bob, who had made more positive comments about his performance.

He also wouldn’t get another chance until next year if he didn’t make it by the deadline which was… “Could you show the current time, please?” the time showed up on the clear walls: 76:72... 28 minutes away.  If only he hadn’t told the ME to go a little faster than usual, he wouldn’t be in such a time crunch.

Just make plans as if you’ll make it, Ian had to remind himself.  Compete in the battle, finish in the top ten, get into a good arena house, preferably one that was on good terms with the spectators- though, at this point anything would be better than nothing- then he just had to get into The Hundred, then he could live the rest of his life in luxury, and not worry about life.  Compete when necessary, and just enjoy the luxuries of the Sky City.  That was the life that he had envisioned since he was small.

The scenery started to change as he flew overhead, and he would have taken more notice of the farms turning to towns which eventually grew closer, and closer together.  Finally, the walls of the city proper were visible from his vantage point.  Ian, glancing at the clock, now showing 76:93, could feel his heart start to race; knowing that he was going to be cutting it close, he chose his plan of action.  “Go ahead and drop me off at the front entrance.”

The ME’s voice spoke up, “You know I can’t drop you off directly, sir.   It will have to be a drop in for you, which isn’t really recommended, seeing as I can be no less than a hundred feet off the ground outside the loading zones.”

“Well, fortunately, the building is to which I am going is eight hundred feet tall.”  Ian looked out the window, not really paying attention what he or the ME was saying.  The excitement of the plan was already getting into his veins, and he was trying hard not to psyche himself out of doing what was necessary to get in by the deadline. 

As they got nearer to the center of the city, more vehicles became visible, and in a great variety of colors.  Some people were actually rich and powerful enough to own their own, and weren’t required to travel from place to place via the public transportation which was provided to them by the governing forces, mostly the most powerful of The Hundred. 

Finally, after what felt like a very, very long time, the center of the city was in sight.  The tower at the center of the city was standing tall, with its ring of magic floating at the center of the tower, being held up by the magic of the land.  It truly was a sight to behold, its tall, white walls, especially with the sunset and how it bathed everything in its red and orange colors.

Ian glanced back at the time, 76:96.  He was going to be cutting it very, very close.  Fortunately, there were teleportation pods inside the building at various points, so he would be able to get around easily enough once he was inside.  It was just that, though, getting inside, which would prove to be the most difficult and time consuming part of the whole ordeal. 

As the tower zoomed up, Ian prepared himself inside his little cocoon of comfort, and stability, questioning whether or not this really was necessary, or if he was just overreacting.

“We’re here, sir.” Came the ME’s voice. “I believe the phrase I should say here is ‘it’s now or never.’ Best of luck.” And with that, the hatch opened, letting a torrent of air surround Ian as he took one last look at the clock.  76:97.  “Thank you for your assistance, may you prove to be helpful to everyone who comes your way.”  And with that, Ian looked down, which was his first mistake, seeing all the people walking around, most of whom had not realized that he was stopped, hovering next to the Combat Center in a car.  A quick three count in his head, and he leapt to the nearby awning, which was only about three feet away, and five feet down, but felt like twenty, and seventy feet.  After a slightly less than soft landing, Ian sprung up, dusted himself off quickly, made sure he had his staff still in his hand, and ran off towards the closest door hoping that a pod station was nearby.

Chapter two

Ian ran up to the desk, out of breath, which surprised him, since he’d only run for about two minutes, maybe he pushed himself harder than he thought trying to get there on time.  The spectacled clerk behind the desk didn’t even look at him as he looked through papers, comparing one to the other, and then back to the first again. 

“Name and purpose?” his nasally query somewhat shocked Ian, though after a second thought, it made sense, he wasn’t as well-known as he’d thought himself to be, even with the coverage of his first duel.

“Ian Wintergrip, I’m here for the new combatants battle royale,” he managed to spurt out between gasps for air.

The man paused his paper shuffling, looked over the brim of his glasses at Ian, and then sighed.  “Sorry, it’s 97:00, past the deadline for the signups, you’ll have to wait until next year for the next royale.”

Ian couldn’t believe his ears.  “What?!” he practically strangled the man with his voice.  “I thought the deadline was at 97:00! I made it, I did!”  He stopped to catch his breath, and that’s when he realized the pursed smile that the clerk was holding and the bursts of air that were squeaking through as he raised his hand to cover his mouth.

The laughs followed shortly.  After catching his breath, the clerk continued, “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help myself.  Every year there’s at least one new combatant who’s running in like a crazed madman, and I always tell them the same thing, but your reaction was by far the best I’ve seen.  You don’t hide your emotions very well, do you?”

(Greetings!  Sorry for the no post yesterday, but I was pooped after work, and somewhat indisposed with car troubles and what-have-you-nots... So today, I give you... the double post! MWUHAHAHAHAHA! That's right! Double the dose of fun, in just one day of reading! how is that!? Should I use more exclamation points?! Probably not! Anyway, for anyone else who is writing epic stories of epicness, I recommend spotify and the final fantasy albums Distant Worlds. Both the first and second of these albums are simply amazing, and to top it all off, really inspiring for writing... especially if you've played them.  

Is there any video game music that inspires anyone?  My favorites would include just about anything from the Final fantasy VI game.  I hate to say it, but from my limited knowledge, I like it better than VII thus far, I haven't beaten either of the games yet, and I have gotten farther into the storyline in VI, but I have to say that the main villain feels more evil, and the characters are pretty sweet.  Also! Chrono Trigger! ZOMGsh! That music just makes me melt especially this song here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8TbmmKC2QPo  if you have ever played that game, and don't mind slightly electronic sounding music (like techno/dubstep) it's an amazing cover, imho. I could listen to it for hours on end, and it makes me sad every time it ends.  Maybe I just like the arpeggios/broken chords going on in the background.  Anyway, it's late, and I'm rambling, so that's probably a good sign to sign off.  Enjoy your extra hour of whatever you choose to do!