The Brawl

After what felt like an eternity, my enemy, after taking one last desperate hit to the side of the head, slumped to the ground in a heap.

Resisting the urge to join him on the floor, I took the opportunity to catch my breath. I had taken more than my fair share of blows – it was only thanks to this world's gift of unnatural endurance that I had not been taken out of the fight much earlier. My opponent's larger size and borderline incoherent nature – coupled with the damage he had sustained elsewhere – had ultimately been his undoing.

Still, I was doing much better than I thought I would.

"Shit, Cecil!"

Caught up in the craziness, I had forgotten about my ally's predicament. Looking around, I thought I might catch a glimpse amongst the mayhem, but both she and the gang that were assailing her were nowhere to be found.

"Did they get her? Seriously?" I asked no one in particular. It's possible their plan to corral her back into the jungle had worked. Whether or not that helped them or hurt them is anyone's guess.

But now, caught in a sea of potential enemies, I was alone.

"Well, she got me this far to use that shortcut, so use it I shall!" I thought with renewed determination. It was what she wanted, after all. If it also just so happened to get me out of this mess and further toward my goal, then so be it.

Cecil was strong. I knew she'd be alright. If anything, I was in more danger, surrounded as I was by hostile Participants in the midst of a brawl.

Convincing myself enough to put my doubts aside for now, I committed myself to my objective: get to that shortcut and take it.

Slinking around the various pockets of brawlers, I tried to weave my way in the direction I had seen the floating rocks. In so doing, I noticed that despite the savagery that consumed most of the clearing, there was thankfully little in the way of traumatic injury – the defeated either went by way of my earlier opponent, or broke off from the exchange when they couldn't take anymore. So near to their objective, no one wanted to waste time pursuing an enemy that had already given up on the fight, after all.

Said objective, I quickly noticed, was surrounded by the thickest of the fighting. Instead of forming into groups to throw down, it seemed like an endless mob had formed. Any who made a break for the bridge found themselves targeted the most, dragged down or blocked out from getting any closer. Those closest to the bridge, who had managed such progress before the throng had gathered in full, were kept locked down by everyone around them. Numerous breakaways were attempted – mad, reckless dashes to freedom – but none succeeded. Moments of solidarity between enemies formed and broke down endlessly just to thwart any who attempted to squeak through.

"How in the hell…" I muttered to myself, stuck as I was at the far edge of the mob. It was difficult even finding a way in, let alone get all the way across to the bridge.

One battle, with a single, exploitable opponent was almost too much for me. There was no way I could fight my way through and survive to the other side. And the idea of sneaking my way through unnoticed seemed almost as insane.

Suddenly, a thunderous noise erupted nearby. At first, I thought it was some sort of explosive, and feared the worst. No destruction or carnage met my gaze, however, but a large pocket of Participants lay sprawled out on the grassy floor nearby, fanning out from some point near the center of the mob. They were slow to get up, but otherwise fine – the outburst had, however, cast an eerie silence over the clearing, drawing everyone's attention.

At the center of the commotion stood Cecil, her hand outstretched. Her viridian eyes seemed more luminous than ever.

And she was not smiling.

Murmurs of shock began to ripple through the crowd. A few of the Participants that had been knocked away, regained of their senses, scrambled away from Cecil in a panic.

"She's not human!" one cried over their shoulder as they stumbled away.

"What was that?" I heard someone say in the crowd. Others muttered similar thoughts. Several brawlers began to look very apprehensive, their body language suggesting they might make a run for it. The mood had shifted.

Suddenly, another commotion erupted, this time on the clearing's far end – several shouts of pain followed by thunderous crashes reached our ears. Someone – or something – was moving through the clearing, breaking up groups of combatants and battering Participants left and right. People of all shapes and sizes were sent flying whenever they got close, but whoever or whatever was causing it was lost in the crowd.

Chaos erupted.

Many Participants gave up the fight in an instant, their nerves shattered. These took off running for the tree line, while others made desperate, borderline suicidal charges towards the bridge, only to get bogged down by their fellows.

Several Participants bore down on Cecil in a rage, seeing her as the number one obstacle. The girl's eyes shined brightly as she brought her outstretched hand in close to her chest, then extended it upward. In the same instant, the space around her erupted into devastating gusts of wind, swatting her would-be attackers away like flies. It lasted only an instant, but the effect was great enough to tear large gashes into the grass around where she stood, sheared away by the force of the wind.

One of those blown away by her attack did not rise again, while another scrambled back to their feet and took off running. The rest stood their ground, unsure whether the girl in green was an obstacle they could actually overcome.

The crowd was much thinner now, for a variety of reasons. I took the opportunity.

"Cecil!" I shouted as I neared the girl in question, rushing past those scrambling to get away or running headlong for the bridge.

As I got closer, her luminous green gaze turned to meet my own. Her expression was eerily neutral – she neither smiled nor frowned. I began to wonder if approaching her right now was a good idea.

Then, like a switch had been flipped, the girl broke out into a wide smile.

"Simon!"

"Oh thank god," I breathed, ignoring her would-be assailants who were still keeping their distance. "I thought you had gone crazy there for a second."

"Why?" she asked with an inquisitive tilt of her head. Ahh, there it was.

"Never mind. Are you alright?"

"I'm ok!" she confirmed with another smile. "Are you ok?"

"I've been better," I replied, looking around. A brawl more desperate than ever before had broken out near the bridge. It was an incoherent scramble, where the only violence against Participants was done in an attempt to get them out of the way.

No one wanted to "win" anymore – they just wanted out.

Meanwhile, behind us, the fighting also continued, but it was all centered on whatever force was making its way through the crowd. Its progress had slowed considerably, however, finding fiercer resistance as it went. Straining to see over the crowd, I finally glimpsed it: a single soul, fighting off enemies from all sides. Dressed in a plain black hoodie and jeans, I could just barely spy a hint of red from underneath the drawn hood.

"Oh shit," I growled, teeth clenched. "It's the protagonist."

"Protagonist?" Cecil repeated, confused. I looked back at her, and, for a moment, considered...

No, I would not put Cecil in harm's way. She may have the means to bat away these chumps, but this one was on a completely different level.

The girl began to fidget in place, looking increasingly concerned. I realized I had been staring at her all this time, probably not looking very happy. Forcing a smile, I nodded.

"We need to get to that bridge, right? That's why we came all the way here."

Cecil returned the smile. "Yeah!"

I turned back to the desperate mob, which was slowly thinning itself out as Participants succumbed to their injuries or exhaustion. They were, however, inching closer and closer to the bridge, even if the ones in the lead were replaced every other second.

"Cecil," I began, keeping my eyes trained on the mob, "Could you do something about them?"

Cecil hummed thoughtfully, but said nothing.

"We won't be able to get to the shortcut otherwise."

My leafy companion seemed to have an epiphany at this. "Ohh, okay!"

Resisting the urge to ask what she thought I was going for, I made sure I was ready to move at a moment's notice. I wasn't sure what exactly Cecil had in mind – mostly because I still didn't quite understand what she was capable of – but if it was anything like what she was doing before, it would be enough. All I needed was a moment or two. Maybe three.

And our window of opportunity was rapidly closing.

Cecil extended her hand toward the scrambling mob, her smile fading, her eyes shining. She looked exactly as she did before – dangerously expressionless, motionless.

A moment later, nearer to the edge of the chasm past the throng of fighters, I spied a faint shimmer in the air, like the sun shimmering on the surface of a lake. A moment later, an imperceptible power exploded out from it, hurling those nearest to it far into the air. Then it retracted, back to that singular point, and reached out toward the ground. As it touched the earth, it shot out into the mob on a breakneck course - straight toward Cecil and I. Any Participants caught in its path found themselves being hurled out of the way by the same unseen force that had signified its arrival.

Even though I knew Cecil to be the source, as the path of carnage drew closer, I found myself growing nervous. Something within me urged me to get out of the way of this otherworldly force, but when I looked to Cecil for affirmation, I found her unbothered; indifferent, even.

As the force threatened to collide directly with us, another shockwave shot out from where it had originated. The air around the origin point turned hostile, turbulent, as if an intense storm was raging at that point and that point alone. A second later, it was over – and the path-clearing force fizzled out with it.

"Hm?" Cecil, returning to her usual self, hummed aloud. She seemed perplexed.

"Did something go wrong?" I asked, unsure if I should get moving. Already, the Participants hit by her attack were recovering – stunned, confused, but slowly regaining their senses. Those not directly affected hesitated – they could see the opportunity in front of them, but feared another attack.

It was now or never.

"Oh, Aoife!" Cecil said suddenly, smiling brightly.

"What – " I started to ask, before the air around Cecil exploded. "Holy shit!" I dove out of the way as violent wind passed over me, almost rolling me across the clearing in the process. Something shot up from where Cecil had been standing – an indistinct shape, moving faster than I could visually track – only to be followed by a similar, but seemingly larger shape, moving just as fast.

The two blurs seemed to clash in mid-air repeatedly, sending out bursts of air with each collision. They rebounded above the clearing at a bristling pace for several moments, neither holding advantage over the other, before disappearing entirely. Distant rumbles were now the only evidence that they were ever there.

"H-holy shit, oh god, uh," I stammered, struggling to my feet. Several Participants involved in the violent bid for the bridge were similarly stunned, and a few had been sent flying by the exchange. For a brief, fleeting moment the bridge had been forgotten.

I threw myself toward the floating rocks as fast as I could, bowling over a nearby woman in the process. The act seemed to snap the other Participants out of their stupor – they all came rushing in the same direction, fighting and shoving each other to clear their path. The desperate surge was back on, and I was at the center of it.

A tall, thin man in a leather jacket grabbed at my clothes as I raced along, managing to pull me back just enough to throw me off balance. I stumbled, struggling to keep on my feet – I knew that if I fell now, it was over – and succeeded in doing so. My aggressor managed to catch up with me and threatened to pull ahead, so I shoved him as hard as I could. This sent him careening into another Participant running up from the side, who expertly threw him to the floor without missing a beat.

My new pursuer, an athletic-looking woman, was rapidly gaining on me, but so too was I gaining on the bridge. The other Participants – at least ten in number – were hot on our heels, some gaining, and some falling behind.

It was anyone's game even now. So much had happened, but there was still so much that could happen. Fatigue, played down by the laws of this strange place, was not a factor in this moment – it was a mad, unending rush.

The woman passed me. I reached out to grab her, to stop her from overtaking me, only for her to juke to the side. The effort put her off balance, however, and she stumbled, falling – directly in front of me. I had no chance to evade, running directly into her, tripping, falling. Both of us became obstacles for those directly behind us, knocking them off balance. One fell, perpetuating the process for those behind – another stumbled but regained their footing, only to be grabbed by the woman who fell first, now desperate to make sure everyone shared in her fate.

This cycle of falling, causing others to fall, and ensuring everyone fell continued until all twelve of us were grounded. The race devolved in its final moments into a pathetic struggle, a mass of grabbing, hitting, and biting.

A few succumbed to their injuries, losing their strength and falling behind. One took an odd, flailing limb to the temple, knocking them out cold. The struggle continued.

I grappled with a brawny man wearing a ripped collared shirt – he was on top of me, trying to get his hands around my neck. He knew I would continue to be an obstacle, so he intended to take me out of the race. Blood rushed to my head as I struggled – it felt like I was struggling for my life. Perhaps I was. Emotions and tensions were high, who knows what this man intended to do to me?

A loud noise. Another Participant fell, crashing into the brawny man on top of me. He shrugged them aside and looked up, only to eat a fist to the face. Releasing his grip on me, he staggered backward, his nose bleeding. I breathed, at last. The sounds of chaos had faded. I heard groans. I looked around – only two were left standing, here, next to the bridge. I got to my feet to join them. I could see figures standing off in the distance, amidst a sea of the unconscious and the exhausted. They looked on in silence, some nursing wounds, others tending to their fellows.

The brawny man cried out in rage, bringing my attention back to the reality before me. He threw a punch with as much strength as he could muster. It hit its mark, striking his opponent hard in the side. The youth coughed and sputtered, stumbling a few steps backward. His hood had fallen at some point in the endless struggle, revealing his crimson hair.

The young man had fought his way from one side of the clearing to the other, and it had not been easy on him. Bruised and exhausted, the youth breathed hard, but nonetheless faced off against his opponent. The brawny man cried out again, stepping forward and swinging down at the shorter man. The youth moved mere inches out of the way, letting the limb sail past his head, to deliver a colossal hit to the brawny man's gut.

The man in the ripped collared shirt groaned and collapsed on the spot.

The youth let out a ragged breath and turned to face me. Face covered in a mix of dirt and specks of blood, his expression was difficult to read – he showed little emotion, but the intensity of his gaze told me all I needed to know.

Taking one last deep breath, I put my hands in front of my face, assuming a fool's imitation of a boxer's stance.

The youth did not move a muscle, nor did his expression change.

"It's only the two of us left," I stated the obvious, trying to get my breathing under control. "No telling how many can cross this one, but I don't suppose you'd be willing to share?"

Still, the youth didn't move. He simply stared.

"C'mon, man, say something already! You're freaking me out."

Maybe he was hurt more than he was letting on? Surely even someone of this level would be running low after fighting all those people?

Maybe, I could take him…?

I chanced a glance at the bridge of floating rocks. It was so close, but I knew ignoring this opponent to make a break for it would mean defeat – possibly even death.

"Can't be helped!" I cried, weaving back and forth. I inched closer and closer. The youth didn't move. Suddenly, I took a wide step forward, throwing a quick jab with my right hand. The young man's arm shot up to swipe the limb off course. I pivoted on my feet, throwing a tight uppercut with my left, aimed at the youth's stomach.

The red haired youth's fist impacted with my jaw before my fist reached its target. My vision spun. I stumbled back, only for my opponent to match my movements, not allowing any room to open up between us. Another fist slammed into my stomach. My mouth went wide, a guttural noise exploding out of me. I stumbled to the side, trying desperately to put some distance between us, but, again, my opponent matched my steps with his own.

Instinctively, I swung with my right, trying to fend him off. He took a step forward, tilted his head to the side – the attack sailed right past his head – as a fist of his own slammed directly into my face. Blood shot from my nose as again I stumbled backward, a painful wheeze erupting from my throat.

The youth matched my steps yet again. Another fist impacted with my cheek. More blood pooled in my mouth. I stumbled again, losing my balance, falling backward. My opponent stepped forward in the same moment, swinging a fist low, from underneath.

It impacted squarely with my face at the precise moment I fell, sending flecks of blood streaking out into the air and throwing me forcefully onto my back.

I could feel my consciousness fading. No thoughts had time to enter as my mind, desperate to survive, reverted to pure animalistic instinct. I tried to move, but my body wouldn't respond. Through streaks of blood and swollen flesh, I saw my opponent standing above me. He was stone-still, fist still extended, as if frozen in the pose that had ended the fight.

I wheezed, trying to speak – to do anything. All I could do was lie there, bloody and broken.

After a few tense moments, the red-haired man finally turned and made his way toward the bridge. As consciousness faded, the last thing I saw was the youth striding across the rocks, which fell away as he passed, stranding the rest of us on this side of the gap.