Chapter 10: Discernment
The red lion general had exited the platform and taken a seat on the sand with the other fighters watching and waiting for their name to be called so that they may battle further for the right to challenge the sitting king of their country. Skrimir groaned as he sat down. He crossed his legs and put his hand to his side, holding the spot of grief, the point of injury; he thought putting pressure on the area that Kio had ripped him open would end the annoyance that was the stinging pain from the fresh claws marks in his abdomen. Skrimir winced as he applied pressure. He then began licking his other wounds around his body, hoping to nurse himself to full health before his next battle.
Kio, the black haired cat that wounded Skrimir so, and then surrendered before losing his own life. Found his way to the medical staff. Of course, medicine in the land of Gallia was far inferior to that of the beorc territories, but it was what the cat had available to him. His right arm was the seriously damaged one, and now that he had shifted back to his normal form he could properly have the arm looked at. The head of the medical staff was surprised to see an actual warm body approaching him for the first time this tournament that had lost the fight. Such tactics as surrender are rarely seen in the beast tribe's conflicts. The clerics in the tent assessed the situation of his arm thoroughly. They twisted, rotated, and pinched certain portions to ascertain the needed information as to the condition of the injury and the severity. They took a few notes here or there, then they deliberated as to the best way to help the cat. Kio, sat there in the medical tent completely confused by the process. All he knew was that he had no feeling in his right arm below the shoulder blade, no pain or agony, and found that he could not control its movements. This revelation confounded him. He shook his head as he tried to remove the terrifying thoughts from his head. "I best not let my imagination get the best of me." He muttered in a low whisper….
"GULP!" Kio noticed a sharp butcher knife laying on a table nearby, he looked at his arm once more and found the scary thoughts inescapable. His mind ran amok with thoughts of amputation and the horrors that such a procedure would bring him. These thoughts forced him to break out in a terror sweat.
The main medic in the tent then approached Kio. The medic was very old and had a long flowing white beard he extended his left hand and introduced himself to the black cat. Kio was still mortified by the thought of the butcher knife nearby. "Well friend!" the medic said to the cat we need to figure out what to do about the arm. Kio recoiled at the words of the medic. "Do not fret." Kio's eyes glared at the butcher knife nearby. The medic followed the lines of the cat's eyes to the knife. "Oh!" the medic sounded. "That is not to be used on you." He smiled and put the knife further away from Kio in attempt to calm the cat down.
"…Well then what are we to do about my arm?" the black cat seemed more relaxed and open with the doctor moving forward, now with the blade further from his person; the terror sweat also subsided as he began to truly calm down for the first moment since arriving at the tent.
"You may never regain any control of your arm, as you have torn most of the muscles and ligaments. Your shoulder socket is also destroyed. This will make future movement of your arm very unlikely. Normally in the beorc world they would simply remove the arm to avoid infection or further disruption to the daily life of the afflicted." The words tensed up Kio once more. "However, that would seriously hamper your balance in both human and beast form. Therefore, we shall simply take this silk cloth and make a sling." The medic took a piece of cloth off the table and wrapped up the right arm of the black cat. Kio winced as the arm was moved into the position. Yes, he was terrified about the possibility of never regaining the use of his right arm, but he was just happier with the realization that he was not going to become an amputee from the experience. Kio smiled as he hopped off the medical table and left the tent after thanking the staff clerics and medic for their assistance. The Black cat figured he would head back toward the arena where he heard continuously the roar of the crowd signifying that another bout had long since been underway. The medical tent was just outside the main sand of the stadium and therefore he longed to return to the arena floor to watch the matches progress further.
As he walked the cat looked down upon his arm in a sling, and smiled. Even with the pain that the red general had caused him, the young man held no anger in his heart toward the lion; for while he maimed the youthful cat, Skrimir also allowed the cat to exit with his life. Such a move was appreciated more with each minute to the young one as he understood the nature of the tournament was not to create survivors, but a king.
Meanwhile back in the arena floor, Lethe and cleaning crew quickly got to work removing the grit and gore left from the previous match upon the stage. In all five bodies had to be removed from the stage, and such a massive amount of gore had caused for Lethe to aid in the cleaning to expedite the process. "Put your backs into it!" the announcer would holler as she grabbed one corpse and carried it to the pit. She wanted to be sure that her efforts to remove the evidence of the previous fight were not greater than the efforts of the tournament officials who were charged with this simple yet tiresome task.
Skrimir simply watched with his hand at his side in agony as he kept pressure on his wounded side to keep the bleeding down. He grimaced his face and kept his tongue stilled. However, he remained seated and stoic as he was determined to keep the visibility that he was hurt and wounded from the eyes of his competition, so as to not give them confidence going forward against him, as well as to not expose a potential weak area on the red lion's body.
Yet, the rouse of the lion was soon caught by his longtime friend and fellow general Giffca. The lion came and sat down beside the lion as he gazed upon Lethe kicking and screaming the group of officials into finishing the cleaning work for the next match. Giffca was a reserved and more seasoned fighter and general than Skrimir and it showed by the black lion was able to sit next to his wounded and visibly irritated colleague and be able to keep a quiet reserve. However, the younger lion knew all too well the intent of Giffca sitting beside the troubled lion. "What do you want Giffca?" the red general asked of the black lion seated on the sand to his right. "Are you about to spout out a load of nonsense in attempt to shame me for being so arrogant?" the lion took in a deep breath as he felt a stinging pain from his under pressure wound. "….What do you want to say friend?"
Giffca was not about to haste into speech. He breathed in and kept his gaze ahead to Lethe and the crews as they moved the last of the corpses from the stage. "You were brave to fight seven at once." Giffca believed it best to begin speaking with his friend by opening with a commandment of his prowess in battle. "It was impressive to see you handle the lot of them…Yet…"
"I know, I KNOW!" the red general snapped before Giffca could finish his thought. "I should have just shifted and fought tem at full power; but where is the fun in winning against such weaklings without making it a challenge friend?"
"It was not about the challenge that you gave yourself, but the manner in which you handled yourself." This statement perked up the attention of Skrimir as he began to turn his eyes toward his older friend. "When you went out there and fought them without shifting, you showed them and by association the entire cat race disrespect." Giffca's tone shifted slightly to indicate the importance of this point that he was making to the red lion.
"I showed them no such ill manner." The younger lion retorted. "I simply wished to make it a fairer fight, and extend the combat by a few moments. You know…get a rise out of the crowd as well."
"Your actions did no such thing. You still killed them with ease. You are beyond them." Giffca paused before continuing. He then regained steam against the younger general. "You must show class as well as prowess. A strong King in this world is not one born bloodlust, but of proper manners and grace. Sure the laguz world is one of brute strength, but as the king of Gallia, the largest of the laguz nations, we must have a king that can finagle meetings and discourse with the leaders of the beorc nations." Skrimir huffed at the words spoken by Giffca.
Lethe called forth for the next match to begin. The fighter Tax rose from the ranks on the sand. His large mane waving wildly in the wind as he moved. The ground thudded below his powerful steps. Most in the stadium awed at the sight of the beast. Most all of the kings of Gallia had been of the lion sub-race, and thus being one of the three lions in the tournament garnered him must attention, rivalling that of Skrimir and Giffca. He roared loudly as he reached the stage and shifted as he leapt unto the platform. Lethe shuddered as she saw the brutal form of the lion, a beast covered in deep scars along his body, proof of his many battles. His opponent was not as imposing as he entered the stage a simple tiger with white hair. He shifted and roared as well, yet the crowd was not behind this animal, he was slightly smaller than the lion and looked significantly less scary even shifted. All cheered though as Lethe stepped forward to announce the beginning of the fight.
"Skrimir, watch this fight closely and you may understand what I mean." Giffca spoke to his younger cohort.
"All right animals…TO WAR!" the announcer squawked with a lusty voice. The two beasts clashed hard, fists clenched between the two animals. Jaws foaming, they gripped each other and decided that this battle was to be a simple clash of strength, must like an arm-wrestling match. The two snarled as they clashed.
"Why must I stare at this match?" the red lion asked the black one beside him. "This fight is already over." The lion noticed the grimace in the eyes of Serb, the tiger. His strength was failing him, as the lion gained position over him. Soon the lion had the tiger broken and pinned under him. Serb's front legs snapped and dislocated as the lion overpowered him and gained full position. The tiger was now helpless as the lion moved in for the kill. The spirit of the tiger was broken along with his front legs. The lion then snapped the neck of the tiger. The death of the beast reverted in him into his human form as the lifeless body now laid on the paved floor. However, the lion was not finished as he shifted back into his own human form and pulled the head of the now deceased tiger from its body. He waved it wildly around and then chunked it into the crowd, all roared at the sight, some in adulation of the event, and others in utter disgust at the spectacle before their eyes.
"This is what I speak of Skrimir." Giffca spoke once more toward the younger lion. "See his movements and his offensive nature; we must not behave as such. Actions such as that of Tax will destroy harmony in our realm. We the Gallian kingdom, are diverse and host many different sub-races amongst our people. We lions are big and powerful, yet we are a minority. If we provoked certain sects of the kingdom then division could occur among the land and bring about rebellion."
"I see your point Giffca. Tax, must not become king." The red lion retorted.
"Nor should any man that would act in such an offensive manner." Giffca replied. Tax left the stage Lethe called for the officials to return to the platform and clean the mess quickly as she did not enjoy the sight of the headless body or the manner in which it was so maimed. Giffca handed Skrimir a concoction to heal the wounds of his friend as he believed the lesson had been learned by his younger peer. Skrimir laughed as he applied the serum to his wounds and enjoyed the relief they brought him.
"Thank you friend." He rose to his feet and embraced his friend and elder. Giffca delighted in the moment and the two laughed as the watched the officials finish removing the body from the arena. Soon Lethe was ready to announce the next fight.
"Would Nike and Ire join me on the stage for the next fight!" Lethe spoke this time around with less enthusiasm as she had before, as if the horror of the actions displayed by the lion Tax still upset her and unstilled her heart. The same feeling lingered in the stadium by many of the fans as the brutal tactics of the lion remained fresh in their memory.
The cheetah, and former chief scout for Skrimir's army Nike approached the stage. His demeanor was different and more subtle than the others that had entered the stage. He neither roared nor posed; he simply shifted into his beast form and stretched his front legs as he awaited the beginning of the conflict. His opponent refused to enter the platform under the same grace. Ire a cat sub-race growled and snarled at the cheetah as he shifted and banged his paws into the paved floor. Lethe smiled, as she knew Nike as his way of fighting, she knew that this fight would be different from the others. "Alright beasts…FIGHT!"
The cheetah stood still as the cat rushed hard toward his opponent. Ire, lunged his right front paw toward the cheetah in attempt to connect and wound Nike early.
"SLITT!" Nike had leaned hard to his right side avoiding the hit and even landed a claw slash of his own in the process. All heard the rend of flesh as Ire landed his right paw back to the ground and immediately fell on his face.
"AHHH!" the cat yelled. "What did you do?" Ire asked of the cheetah who was standing calmly from a safe distance.
"I cut your main ligament in front leg; it is now useless to you for now." The Cheetah responded. Nike licked his claws clean and stood calmly as he awaited the next attempt from the stubborn cat. Ire fumbled around on his face, much to the amusement of the crowd looking on at the fight. Ire felt enraged at the shame he felt from the fight.
"I'll get you cheetah!" he snarled as he found his way back to balance. He then leaped once more at his opponent.
"SLIT!" once more the same sound reverberated from the walls of the arena as the cat fell on his face before the crowd. All watched as he floundered about, unable to even stand up. "Seems I got you again Ire." The cheetah spoke as he walked toward the incapacitated cat who still had anger in his eyes. "Cat, you are defeated….Do you yield?" the cheetah asked as he leaned forward his face toward the cat sputtering about on the ground. The cat pushed his head off the ground and snapped his jaw at his better. The cat had spoken his mind, as he smacked his head against the ground once more he began to cry as he knew his end was now. The Cheetah moved to purpose without hesitation and sunk his claws into the neck of the downed cat. Death followed suit. The cheetah shifted back into human form and then picked up the deceased cat, now returned to human form. He then carried the corpse off the platform over to the dead pit where the others were. He dropped the body in himself and then brushed his body to remove the foreign blood and fur. All watched and applauded the manners displayed by the cheetah; manners which were honorable to the letter.
"Now that is class. Do you agree Ranulf?" the standing king asked of his chief official. The blue cat sitting next to the king nodded in agreement.
Back on the arena floor others spoke of the demeanor shown by the cheetah. "So Giffca, should I behave as Nike, my former chief scout has?" Giffca laughed as he punched Skrimir in his arm. They nodded in respect toward Nike as he returned among the group.
As the cheetah sat down Kio returned to the group on the arena floor. He swiftly went over to Skrimir and kneeled before the lion. "Thank you general for sparing my life in our contest earlier."
Giffca laughed as he signaled to the red lion to speak to the young black cat. Skrimir picked the cat up and brought him back to his feet. "No thanks are needed, but they are appreciated." The two shook hands as they smiled at each other. Skrimir earlier had thought nothing of the gesture and now saw the benefit of his benevolence toward the cat. "Let us be friends and watch these fights continue onward to completion. The group smiled as they looked back to the platform as they once more watched for the start of another fight. The tournament was still young and many fights were still to come.