Chapter 2

FLORENCE TRONGATE'S POINT OF VIEW

"Contestant six hundred and forty," I heard the referee yell. "Step into the ring."

Leon stepped forward, his body revealed to me for the first time. Numerous scars of varying sizes littered his thin yet toned body. His hair was styled into a man bun, with a few small hairs covering his nape.

"Contestant sixty-two," the referee called. "Step forward."

A man, around a head taller than Leon and much girthier, stepped into the ring. His bald head glistened with sweat, and his chiseled jawline was covered with a slight stubble that made him look double Leon's age.

"Ready," the umpire raised his arm straight above his head and held a whistle in his mouth. A second later, he blew the whistle and sliced his arm down. Leon stood in the same casual position, yet his face never changed.

I shuffled to get comfortable in my chair as the larger man circled Leon. Despite being a few rows back, I saw that Leon's eyes never left his opponent. They felt more oppressing than a meeting with world leaders, and I was only experiencing it second-hand.

"That kid," I heard someone beside me say. "He better pray that cockiness of his doesn't get him killed."

"Why's that?" his friend inquired without looking away from the stand-off occurring in the ring.

"His opponent is the favorite to win this tournament," he revealed, taking a sip of water before continuing. "He's been traveling to gyms all over to challenge the biggest prospects, and has gone undefeated."

I tried my hardest to dismiss the statement, but – whether it was nervousness for Leon's wellbeing or something else- there was an incessant nagging. While I was in my head, however, the fight had officially started.

Leon side-stepped an attempted grapple, punching the man on the jaw as he did so. The man twirled on his heels and lunged at Leon. He managed to enter Leon's space but was stopped from any further attack as Leon brought his foot up and connected with the man's chin.

I saw Leon's lips moving but was unable to make out what he was saying until his opponent seemed to magnetize to his fist- albeit inconspicuously. The man's nose seemed to go into his face as it made contact, which sent him stumbling back, holding the injury.

Leon capitalized on that and stepped forward to land a kick on the other man's knee, causing him to buckle. After the man fell into a genuflecting position, Leon elbowed him on the temple, which put a quick end to the fight. The larger man crumpled into a heap on the floor, motionless.

"And the winner of this match was contestant six hundred and forty," the announcer spoke into the mic, his voice echoing throughout the open-roofed stadium. He held Leon's arm high, proclaiming him the victor, but a look of discontent had festered across Leon's face.

I made my way through the stadium, ignoring the stall owners as they yelled for my attention. Each of them had something less appealing than the last, yet hailed it as the best thing to exist. I ran down the stairs to the changing rooms, only going off of the images on the direction boards due to my inability to read Greek.

Thankfully- after several flights and avoiding a few fans who went to get autographs from their favorite candidates- I arrived at Leon's room. I opened the door, forgetting about courtesy, and stepped in. I heard the jingling of chains and some grunting. I closed the door slowly so I didn't break his concentration, but nearly yelped as I turned around.

"You dickhead," I slapped his chest, trying to calm my heart which was racing. "Congratulations on the win."

"Didn't feel like a win," he sulked, turning and walking into the room. It was decorated with gym equipment, weights, and other fitness gadgets. "Who uses their blessing on a human?"

"But he seemed like he was a good fighter," I offered, knowing my words were like a drop in the ocean. "He was also much bigger than you, so think of it as leveling the playing field."

"People that big is big for the aesthetic," he sighed, taking a seat on the bench that lay in the center of the room. "And he's had training, but he's only suited for fights with rules."

"Oh, and you like fighting without rules?" I asked, trying to tease him. "A bad boy on the streets fighting everyone who annoys him?"

He never replied, which was highly unlike him, instead just indicating the many injuries he had gathered. I took a seat next to him, thinking quietly about how little I knew about the man I let into my home nearly every night.

We sat in silence for a few more moments, both deep in thought, staring at the floor. A minute passed, then five, then thirty. The cheering from above had calmed, and the announcer was muffled as he stated the winner.

"I'm going to win this," Leon assured me, patting me on the back as he stood up. "I think I've only lost once before, and there's only one person I can lose to at this point. He's not here, so it's alright."

"I know," I smiled. His attempts at soothing my nerves had worked, as weak as it was.

Leon took his place in front of the punching bag once more, only throwing soft punches that looked like they were meant for practicing movement speed instead of strength. I sat watching for a few minutes until he stopped to wipe some sweat from his forehead.

"So is every round a fistfight until knockout?" I asked, watching on a small television in the corner as the other matches were broadcasted.

"The next round is weapons," he informed me, unshaken by the fact he was about to fight with swords and bats. "Then the last round is a battle royale."

I watched as two men won their matches, one with dyed pink hair which was shaved nearly bald, and another man who had one eye covered with an eyepatch. The jangling of chains behind me was like white noise at this point and had become quite soothing as Leon got into a nice pattern.

A knock at the door broke the daydream I had been lulled into and caused the chains to quieten. The door opened, revealing a man with a sword and shield insignia branded into his pecs. He entered only into the doorway and bowed.

"Contestant six hundred and forty," he said, to which Leon nodded in reply. "Please prepare for your next fight and make your way to the ring in fifteen minutes." The man left as quickly as he came, leaving the room in silence.

"Guess that's that," Leon chuckled, rubbing his knee with a sharp inhale. He sat on the bench beside me and continued to nurse it as sneakily as he could- which was not stealthily at all.

"Leon," I said, placing my hands on his knee. "Allow me."

I felt the warmth engulf my hands, passing from my heart to my hands in the briefest of moments. I then felt it leap from my fingertips onto Leon's body. I felt the warmth as it seeped into his pores and helped to seal a small crack on his kneecap. After feeling that the light had filled it to a satisfactory degree, I removed my hand.

"Better?" I asked, smiling at the dumbfounded look on his face.

"So much," he whispered, raising it and bending it in awe. "I'm going to get you to use that when I'm old with back pain."

"Shut up," I laughed, punching him on the arm jokingly.

"I'm serious," he cut in. "How can I repay you?"

"By winning this tournament," I poked his nose lightly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."