Chapter XXV
The crowd was like thunder.
Their screams echoed along the sweat-slicked walls, forced the stone around Nova to shudder. The tremor of their applause and the constant banging of their feet was enough to make dust drift down from the wooden beams, to make the entire colosseum rumble.
Nova felt her skin crawl at the sound of it.
She stood on her side of the arena – surrounded by other gladiators with the same red ribbon around their arms, staring at the bloodied sand, a gnawing emptiness in her stomach from where the Darkrai sucked away her fear.
"…care for some advice?..."
Nova glanced to her side, where Barry was murmuring something to his Staravia. Tightening her grip on Owl the Shellos and Bailey the Staravia, she nodded curtly at the shadow. "Aye?"
"…don't get killed…"
"Sound advice."
The other gladiators around her seemed too nervous to care about the girl talking to herself. Some looked like they were ready to spew the stew from last night, some were pacing back and forth, some were running their hands over their armour.
The idiots of the group, she had seen, chugged ale in the morning – to chase away the fear.
But the smart ones – the ones with the expensive armour, the ones with the sharpest swords and fiercest fires in their eyes – had only spent their morning sizing up their competition. Eating only what they needed. Tossing the ale aside.
Nova knew that those ones were the ones to watch out for.
In the pen, sealed behind iron bars, Nova looked back at the crowd that swayed and rolled like water. At the sands smudged red. At the blistering sunlight.
And, as she caught sight of the gladiators with their blue ribbons, she took a long breath and reminded herself.
There were only two rules.
Don't sleep with your patron.
Don't kill your patron.
The rest of the assholes?
They were fair game.
Nova pulled the helm over her head, fingers brushing against the crest of scarlet horsehair, against her shield and the clear sword in her belt. There was no armour allowed in these games – it became too hard to tell who was dead, and who was dying.
"Townsfolk of Veilstone!" Maylene was calling out, her voice hardly reaching the bellowing crowd. "The hour has come! The first of the Veilstone Games is about to begin! But first, it's time for Medicham to reveal today's arena…"
Owl and Bailey joined Nova as she moved towards the bars, as she peered through them and gasped.
The Medicham beside Maylene, in the centre of the arena, had pink light dancing from its hands. And, as the crowd cheered louder, the sands seemed to churn and roll until it split.
Then, the tower rose.
A tower made of wood, ribboned with scarlet banners, a battering ram and two catapults across from it. All of it so real that, as Legionary Maylene slapped the wooden tower, the echo of it rung out.
"The Medicham was hiding the props from us…" one of the gladiators breathed out beside her.
Maylene grinned as trumpets blared, as her Medicham retreated back to her side.
"The red gladiators control the tower, and the blue gladiators have control over the catapults to begin," she told the crowd. "It shall be a battle to the death – the first team with all gladiators surrendered or dead shall be the loser. Of course, there is one exception."
Barry tilted his head, and Nova yanked him and his Staravia closer beside her, hoping desperately that he would be able to hear the legionary above all the yelling.
"If a gladiator manages to break past my Medicham's barrier and has me at bladepoint," Maylene said, "then all gladiators who are alive in the arena – regardless of team – will win a legionary crystal."
"Can't we just all work together to take down Maylene? Screw red and blue and just… fight together?" Barry asked.
Another gladiator snorted beside him. "They've tried it before. Lots of times. Nothing can get past Medicham's barrier. It's a fucking wall."
That, it was. Soon enough, Maylene was back in her corner of the arena, her Medicham's hands outstretched as pink light shuddered around them. An impenetrable, pink wall.
"Now, march forward, gladiators! Get in position!"
The cell doors were swung open as gladiators shoved each other onto the arena. And, as her allies clamoured around her, Nova clung onto Barry and stared at the tower. At the tower that belonged to her team.
And realised she had no fucking idea what to do.
"Guard the walls, for fuck's sake!" someone cried out.
Nova ignored the orders. Instead, she tugged Barry behind her and scrambled up the ladder, finding them a spot on one of the towers where there lay a quiver of arrows and a single bow.
"You can shoot, right?" she asked Barry. "Arrows? Like we did against Meryl and Ulysses near Jubilife?"
Barry nodded. "I have me Staravia to help me."
"And my Shellos."
"I don't need-"
Nova cut off his protest with a hiss. "I know. But I need Shellos here with you. For my own sake."
Her friend said nothing. He only felt for the bow and slung a quiver over his shoulders. Nova squeezed his hand as he took it.
"Never fear," she whispered. "We will not die here. I swear it."
Barry grinned. "You assume I fear death."
From the corner of Nova's eye, she saw the other legionaries; Fantina in her golden gown with her nephew – Roark – beside her, Volkner in his robe, Candice blowing a kiss at Maylene, some big hulk of a man screaming the loudest – his shoulders burning red since he had decided not to wear a tunic.
"And now, begin!"
The crowd roared before Nova even moved.
And, suddenly, the blue gladiators were pushing forwards – swords and shields raised, fire and fear in their eyes. The poor red gladiators on the walls could only raise their shields in response, their eyes darting furiously, searching for some sort of instruction-
"Does anyone have any history as a knight or something?" Nova cried out to the other red gladiators.
Silence – and a few shrugs – answered her.
But then, Barry tilted his head and listened to his Staravia, who muttered something in his ear. Then, he stepped forward.
"Anyone with a bow and arrow, fire on the troops that are running for us now!" he cried out. "Me patron is a bloody knight and has told me all about this sort of thing. Any flying Pokémon should be sent forward to swoop and distract. I need a few of you – at least four – to be ready at the gate of the tower, for when they use the battering ram! Go in pairs, keep yer shields up, and yer arses together, hear?"
Nova couldn't believe that was her best friend calling out the instructions. She couldn't believe that this boy – with a fierce, booming voice, radiating an aura she had never felt before – was the same boy she had grown up with.
"Who the hell are you to tell us what to do?" one of the gladiators snapped.
Nova snarled at them. "Oh, aye, do you have a better plan?"
Yet again, silence.
"Then get your arses moving!"
Barry nocked his arrow, already hurling it forwards. Both Bailey and his Staravia were off, and soon, Nova realised that she had to be Barry's eyes.
"Battering ram!" she yelled out. "It's coming! Shoot a bit more to the left!"
"Aye, and go tell the others to brace the doors!"
The blue troops rushed forwards, the battering ram between them, and though Nova helped Barry aim his arrows, it was no use – there were dozens of them lining the rams, and even as they fell by the second, there were enough of them to keep it moving, to keep it rumbling straight for the walls of their tower.
The wood shook from the impact, and Nova caught sight of one of the blue troops' Pokémon – a fucking Ponyta, of all things – spurting fire at the wall, too. There was a boom – an explosion that rocked her off her feet – bright and red and swelling with fire.
Instantly, the red troops that had been protecting the doors were nothing but blood on the sand.
But that's not what caught Nova's eye.
Oh, no – what caught her eye was far worse.
For, as the ram struck their tower another time, Nova saw the two Staravia – her and Barry's – crying out through the smoke. She saw the blue troops at the catapults aim up – aim a ballista in the sky and-
One of the Staravias was struck, falling to the sand below, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch, its neck twisted the wrong way, steel and wood in its chest-
Bailey.
Not even the Darkrai in her guts could stop the pain from slicing through Nova's guts as she saw the Staravia. The blood. The agony on its face.
No, no, no, no-
Not her Bailey. Not the stupid but fierce bird that couldn't fly straight. Not the stupid but sweet bird that had started off with a broken wing that was still angled all funny-
No.
"Watch Barry," Nova ordered her Shellos. "Spit mud at anyone who is blue."
Barry frowned. "Nova, what happened? Where are you-"
The girl was already dropping her shield and twisting away, shoving her way down the ladder, darting through the rolling smoke.
"…to your left…"
Nova wasn't even thinking as she heard Darkrai in her ears. With the image of the Staravia burning in her mind, she ripped her sword out and struck to her left – sending a man dropping to the ground and howling as the blade sliced at his thigh.
Another gladiator – a woman, this time – was racing for Nova, who ducked and slipped her sword right into her foe's shoulder.
Blood splattered Nova's lips and, behind her, that damned Ponyta was setting off another burst of fire. The tower was ablaze, and Barry had already dropped his bow beside him. With the Shellos on his shoulder spitting water at the flames, the boy was striking out with his sword, charging along the wall and putting his sword right through some man's belly.
But he was okay for now.
But Bailey-
She moved away from the fire – away from the gladiators – and towards the corner of the arena, where she had seen the Staravia fall. And, as she saw the feathers and the blood, heard the weak cries, she fell to her knees and found the bird.
It wasn't right. Even with the twisted talons at the bloodied beak, the way it looked at her – desperation, pain, agony…
The Staravia didn't try reaching for her when she came close.
And Bailey always liked touching her.
Which meant-
You're not Bailey. You're-
Sure enough, Nova felt a shadow fall on her as yet another Staravia swooped down and sat on her head. Cawing sadly. Its wing angled slightly to the left, as if it had just recovered from being broken.
"Bailey, you're okay," Nova said to the Staravia on her helm. "And this poor thing is Barry's Staravia…"
She shouldn't have felt the relief she did to know that Bailey was okay.
And yet, the relief was nothing against the pain she felt in her heart as she realised that Barry's Staravia was dying and he had no idea about it. He would never say his final words to his precious little bird.
"Barry…"
The words hadn't come from her mouth.
They had come from the Staravia lying on the ground. Its beak was open, and blood dribbled down as it, once again, cawed, "Barry…"
Nova froze. Felt her heart stop.
Barry's Staravia could speak?
"You want Barry?" Nova asked it.
The Staravia closed her eyes. "Barry…"
"…i'm no mind reader, but my guess is yes…"
"Oh, shut yer smart arse," Nova snapped at her shadow. "We have to bring Barry to him. We have to."
"…you are in the middle of a bloodbath…"
"Well, no thanks to you-"
Bailey, on her head, cried out.
Nova didn't see the man rush towards her until it was too late. There he was, his spear raised, and before she could think clearly, she was slashing with her sword.
She had wanted to strike his leg. His arm.
But, instead, she had tripped forward. Come too close.
And sliced his belly wide, spilling guts across her boots as he fell screaming.
Nova wanted to vomit. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream.
But Barry and his poor Staravia-
And so, she stood there and stared at the dead man before her. At the life she had taken.
She let the Darkrai rip away her fear, let him rip away all the pain and agony.
And let herself calculate.
She was not the best fighter. Her sword-arm needed work. Her shield was long forgotten in the tower. Her Shellos was still with Barry.
But Barry's Staravia was counting on her.
And if there was one thing she had done better than all the gladiators around her, it was clawing her way through rubbish.
Nova looked at the face of the man she had killed, his face sealed behind his helm. And, ripping away the red ribbon from her arm, she tore at his blue ribbon and knotted it across her elbow. Then, with bile in her throat, she shoved her hand into his guts and pulled out a streaming handful of whatever was inside.
It was filthy. It was gross. It was enough to make her eyes water.
But she had grown up in garbage that was just as bad. She had crawled through corpses of Pokémon and humans alike just to find supper. She had pressed down guts and blood when she had been helping Joy with her healing.
She could and would do this.
For Barry and his Staravia.
Nova smeared the blood down her neck and chest, slapped the torn guts against her own belly, and, with her Staravia on her helm and her sword dangling from her hand, she walked.
To the crowd, she looked like a dead girl walking. A few of the blue troops saw her blue ribbon and shot her a look of pity, but they were too busy saving their own arses to care about the girl who was staggering across the sand, blood and guts dripping down to her feet.
Nova stumbled, just to sell it better, and gasped which each step. She was so close – so damned close – to the men with the catapults. And, as one of them glanced at her, she recognised him.
It was the pretty boy who had sat at her table the night before. The one who had called her mother a whore.
"Wait a minute," he said, taking a sharp breath.
But there were no minutes left for him.
Nova and Bailey came to life, and the girl slung a handful of the guts into his face, plunging her sword into his chest.
Forgetting the blood. Forgetting the regret.
For Barry. For his Staravia.
Staravia, too, had gutted his Machoke – and the poor Pokémon's blood sprayed across the sand as it fell with a cry. The last man and his Riolu stumbled back, but Bailey had snatched up the small Pokémon with his talons and sent it flying like the iron balls in the catapults.
"Riolu! No!"
His blade moved towards Nova, but she smashed it aside – left, right, left – and, with a final flash, the blade dug its way into his heart.
Forgetting the blood. Forgetting the regret.
For Barry. For his Staravia.
The crowd would have noticed, by then, something was amiss. While there was a bloody battle at the tower itself, they found their eyes moving towards the thin girl, drenched in red, not running where all the gladiators were – but running towards Maylene and her Medicham.
A giant Machoke had tried to stop her, but Bailey's wings burned bright and struck its leg. Then, as it stumbled, Nova grabbed its head and-
"…arrow to your left…"
-and swivelled so that the arrow dug into the Machoke's heart, rather than her own.
Forgetting the blood. Forgetting the regret.
For Barry. For his Staravia.
Bailey had gone on ahead, twisting around until he sliced a Machop right along the chest and sent it sprawling into the sand. The woman with the Machop staggered, hurling a sword towards Nova, but screaming as Bailey's gust of wind sent the blade flying away.
And, with the crowd and pulse and thunder of it all in her ears, Nova raised her sword.
Forgetting the blood. Forgetting the regret.
For Barry. For his Staravia.
"Please, no," the woman begged. "I'm on the blue team, too…"
She was silenced by Nova's sword.
And Nova's heart was silenced by the Darkrai in her shadow, who was eating and eating at the fear, at the remorse, at the guilt, as they reached Maylene's barrier.
The crowd roared. Hysterical. Pointing at the girl who had left the battlefield to rip through Maylene's wall.
"Darkrai," Nova suddenly said. "When you made the sword black in Solaceon, it went straight through my hand. If we do that again, do you think the sword will go straight through the barrier?"
"…why would you think that?..."
"You said it yourself. Shadows can't hurt anyone."
"…clever girl…"
And so, with the smoke above her, Nova watched as Darkrai left her shadow and entered her sword. Turned it as black as ink.
All of a sudden, she felt the fear squeeze at her insides. Felt it rip through her. Felt her knees buckle as she thought of all the lives she had taken, all the blood she had spilt.
But still, she tossed the black sword forwards. Watched as it soared towards the pink barrier, towards the Medicham, and slipped straight through it.
Maylene stumbled back as the sword landed by her feet. And, in that second, Nova saw the Medicham hesitate. Saw the pink light falter for just a second.
That second was her chance. Her opportunity.
And Nova took it.
The crowd howled as Bailey sprang onto the Medicham, drilling his beak into its face, blood staining his face as he drove the psychic type into the sand. Scratching at its shoulders for good measure.
Meanwhile, Nova threw herself at Maylene – clinging onto the legionary's back as the two of them tumbled onto the sand. Maylene's blade cut at Nova's arm, blood arcing onto both of them, but the gladiator had launched a kick right into small girl's stomach – sending the legionary rolling off her.
"Nova?" Maylene was asking, her eyes wide as she recognised the gladiator's steel-blue gaze. "Is that you?"
Nova didn't answer. She just winced from the pain in her arm, took a sigh of relief as Darkrai slipped back into her shadow and drank up all the fear, and wearily plucked her sword – now as clear as day – from the sand.
And, slowly, Nova swung the sword towards the legionary's throat, the crowd finally shutting their mouths, the fight behind her halted as all gladiators watched her blade move closer and closer until-
Maylene raised her hands in surrender. Even had the courage to smile.
"And all gladiators – blue and red team alike – if they are breathing, they have now earned themselves a legionary crystal."
The crowd bellowed in answer, trumpets splitting the air. The legionaries watched her – mostly frowning, except that one big man without the tunic who was up on his feet and cheering wildly. Lucas, too, was in the front row – horror but a flash of bemusement in his eyes as he clapped. And, smeared in blood, clasping her forearm, Nova pushed her sword back into her belt and limped towards the other gladiators. Towards the slaughter, where corpses with red and blue ribbons were dead by dozen.
And, amongst them, was Barry's Staravia.
Nova moved towards her best friend, who had dropped his sword and was laughing aloud. Beside him was Owl – no longer a Shellos, but a blue-green Gastrodon.
"Barry?" she called out.
He was battered and burnt, a small cut near his temple, but he was laughing as he threw his arms out towards her.
"You should have seen Owl!" he was saying. "One second, she's spitting mud from me shoulder, then she gets bloody heavy and we're falling because she's suddenly really big, and because of that, I think a bunch of arrows went just over our heads-"
He froze when Nova stiffened in his arms. As the single Staravia above them cawed sadly.
And though she hadn't said a damned thing, Nova just knew that he knew.
Many gladiators had lost their Pokémon. Many Pokémon had lost their gladiators – amongst them was a Magikarp named Thaddeus that Nova had decided to adopt. She, Bailey the Staravia, Owl the Gastrodon, and the damned Magikarp, stood beside her best friend and his dying Staravia.
"I'm sorry, Star…" Barry was whispering. "You've been a good girl."
The Staravia purred. "Barry…"
And that was the bird's last word.
Barry ducked his head and sobbed, and Nova touched his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she told him.
He only shook his head. "It's okay. I've already had this talk with them. We all knew this could happen."
"And yet, you still choose this path? To be a gladiator?"
"Because we want to. Because these Pokémon wanted to be legends. They wanted to fight." He lowered his voice to a whisper, smiling as his friend squeezed his hand while he added, "They didn't want to go any other way. I wouldn't want to go any other way."
"But…"
Barry held up his hand. "We all die, Nova. But I would take this over rotting in a cot all day."
"…not even a very nice cot with plenty of pillows?…"
"Can you please shut up, Darkrai?" Nova hissed.
"…not usually, no…"
Barry tilted his head, frowning. "What was that you said about Darkrai?"
"…aye, nova, what was that you said about darkrai?..."
If Darkrai hadn't been the one who had helped her only minutes ago with the Madicham's barrier, Nova may have considered calling out her shadow for being full of shit. Instead, though, she turned back to her friend.
"Your Staravia could say your name," she pointed out. "How?"
Barry shrugged. "I realised that Pokémon can make lots of sounds with their mouths. It's like, bloody hell, it's like learning another language for them. I thought maybe I could teach them a few words, and Star was my best at learning…"
He went quiet again, bowing his head and feeling for his Starvia's bloody feathers. Nova was ready to gather the Magikarp, Staravia, and Gastrodon towards her and leave him be when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"What the fuck was that, Nova?" Maylene demanded, spinning the gladiator around to face her. "Roark told me you could hardly hurt a Kricketot! You were… you were a bloody beast out there! I didn't even recognise you! And changing the ribbon on your arm? Fucking brilliant! I've never killed a lad or a lass, Nova, but to see you do it without even thinking…"
Nova winced, her bleeding arm screaming as Maylene shook her. And, suddenly, from down on the sand, Barry cleared his throat.
"She did it so that I could see my Staravia before she died," he said. "She did it for me."
The trumpets blared, silver and bright behind them. The sand shuddered as gladiators roamed around the arena, kicking down the last of the tower, ripping their helms off and roaring.
And, as the crowd went absolutely mad, Legionary Maylene went silent. Looked at the dead Staravia. At the tears streaming down the boy's face. At the pain in Nova's eyes.
"You did that just for your friend?" she asked quietly.
Nova only had to nod once.
Suddenly, Maylene grabbed Nova by the elbow, turned her around so that she was facing the deafening crowd, and raised the gladiator's hand high in the air.
"What is her name?" she cried out.
Silence.
For none of them really knew her name. Not yet.
Maylene nodded thoughtfully. Raised Nova's bleeding hand in the air again.
"Her name is November! November of Twinleaf!"
There was another beat of silence – a silence that felt even more shallow than the one before.
Then, a little boy cried out, "November!"
And so did his father. And the family beside him. And the family beside that family. And the bloody merchant who had sold sweetmeats to that family.
And soon, the whole arena.
"What is her name?" Maylene repeated.
"November!" they roared.
"What is her name?"
Hands clapping. Feet stomping. Their voices slicing through the air.
"November! November! November! November!"
Nova glanced down at her friend who, through his tears, was smiling. She glanced back at her Staravia and Gastrodon, who were nodding at her – proud of her, even though they had seen everything she had done. She glanced up at Lucas, who was staring down at Barry – pity and hurt in his eyes. Not far behind him was Meryl – the small girl from Jubilife – winking down at her. Even the old crone was in the back of the crowd, hooting louder than anyone else.
"November! November! November! November!"
She thought about Bebe, whisking around in a glittering ballroom, her tinkling laughter in the air. She thought about Joy, cradling her dead sister and crying. She thought about her mother, squeezing her hands as she warned her about her bastard of a father – warning her about breathing in hope.
Finally, Nova's gaze found Volkner. The only man in the entire arena who was still sitting.
"November! November! November! November!"
She remembered how he had forced her to wither before him only a day ago. She remembered how he had snatched away her stew. She remembered how he had stepped on what had been her birthday cake.
And she blew him a kiss.
"November! November! November! November!"
In that second, with her name ringing around her – a name she had hated as much as the knights who had taken it away from her – Nova couldn't help but smile. Hell, she even laughed.
For she would never, ever let them see her break.
You want a song for this chapter? I'll give you a song for this chapter. Try 'Unstoppable' by Hidden Citizens.
And so, we have legionary crystal number three. Not to toot my own horns, but I just… really like the way this chapter echoes the last chapter. I hope you like it, too!
Catch of the chapter:
Thaddeus the Magikarp, named after Thaddeus from Fever by Dee Shulman (which also involves gladiators but is also possibly one of the cringiest books I have ever read in my life).