AN: Well, it's been another while, but I'm back again. And I brought along another chapter! Praise me… now please. Okay don't, but you'll live to regret it. Someday, when cookies eat people, you'll wish you had praised me and not caused the odd string of events that brought about the age of the cookie!

Thank you reviewers for… reviewing. I always spare you people from my life-ruining duties. I don't know why though. I'll just say it's my way of thanking you in a nonverbal way.

Disclaimer: Tales of Symphonia is probably owned by some rich people in Japan. I am not rich, nor am I in Japan. It is therefore safe to assume that I don't own Tales of Symphonia.

Ch. 14 The Big Match

Lloyd staggered through the door, back into the waiting room, beaten and bruised like he'd never been before. The pain reminded him of a time when he had been whipped at the Human Ranch for stealing some extra bread. He'd taken a severe beating that time also, but it was nothing like this one. He found his seat at the table where he and his friends sat everyday, and fell into it.

"That looked painful," Genis mentioned between bites of pie. "You okay?"

"I'm alive, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not right now," he replied, clutching his side. It even hurt to talk.

"I don't think I can heal this one entirely," Raine mentioned, checking his wounds. "But I suppose you want to be ready to fight in the next five minutes, right?"

"You'd be better off not fighting anymore today," came Grisma's voice from behind, as it always did.

"What do you mean?" Lloyd asked. "I thought that guy was only number one hundred, I've still got ninety-eight to go before I have even a chance against Botta, right?"

"Actually, your time is up," Grisma replied. "Botta's coming in tomorrow, and he's probably coming for a fight. So, you'd be better off just resting for the rest of today. You'll need to be at your best tomorrow, just incase he challenges you."

"Do you really think he'd challenge me?" Lloyd inquired.

"Can't say for certain," he admitted, "but Botta only challenges fighters in the top hundred, so you've got a chance."

"That's reason enough for me," Lloyd declared. "How long will it take you to put me back together, Professor?"

Raine continued to study his various welts cuts and bruises and finally gave an estimate, "Ten minutes, and you'll be fine by tomorrow morning. But that's only if you relax. If you take another beating like this, I may not be able to heal you properly."

"I've been wanting a day off anyways," he replied nonchalantly.

After Raine finished tending to his wounds, they went their separate ways as they always did. Lloyd and Sheena went to the safe house, Raine and Genis stayed to watch some fights. Regal left for his home office, where he could manage his company and shift portions of his resources to providing food and equipment for the possibly lengthy war that they would soon wage. Presea was helping Regal by keeping his many documents organized. Regal often commented that she would make for an excellent record keeper.

No one was sure where Zelos went. Sometimes, they guessed he was visiting Colette, who had fallen ill two months after they arrived in Meltokio. Other times they thought he was looking after Capricorn, since he had supposedly made that his duty since their arrival. Usually however, they just decided he was out bar hopping, and throwing out pickup lines. Whatever he did, he kept it secret.

When they got home, Lloyd and Sheena relaxed and fell into the routine they had unconsciously developed for themselves. Lloyd would sit in a chair, and think about the day's events, while Sheena would set about cooking. Today, his thoughts wandered to everything that had happened over the past five months since they first entered Meltokio. He thought about how he had to send the forces he was going to barrow from the king back to the frontline. Apparently, their orders had been to either set out with him immediately, or return to the Flanoir front immediately. Since he had yet to even get a quarter of the way up the ranks of the arena, he had no choice but to send them back.

He then remembered Colette's sudden illness. She had just passed out one day, and when they were told that she had some rare disease that only came up in every one in a million cases, they knew there was nothing they could do. Lloyd couldn't remember what the name of the sickness was, but he did remember that it was next to impossible for him to pronounce. She now stayed in a hospital ward, still wearing that foolish smile and saying stupid things that made no sense until later.

Then, he thought about Grisma, and the cruel training he had forced upon Lloyd. Every morning he forced him to run for miles, made him work himself to the bone, and chewed him out thoroughly whenever he complained. Lloyd would often feel exhausted and ragged after the brief, but intense training sessions. The only thing that let him keep going each day was Raine's healing skills. He had finally come to the conclusion that Grisma was his cruelest friend, and one day, he would have to thank him for it. Despite all of the insults and beatings he'd given out, he had turned Lloyd into an exceptional fighter in half the time it would have taken him otherwise.

The miso stew Sheena cooked that night was excellent. It could have been seen as a feast in some people's eyes, but Lloyd had grown so accustomed to her cooking that he expected it to be good. As they ate in silence, Lloyd noticed Sheena was staring at him. Not with the usual, loving gaze that mesmerized him every time, but in a more cautious manner. It was as though she had something to say, but she didn't want to say it.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I don't know…" she admitted. "I get the feeling that Grisma's not telling us everything. It's like he doesn't want you to know something."

"I've noticed it a few times too," he agreed. "It's like every time he's talking about Botta, or anything related, he just puts up a wall. But what's he hiding?"

"A better question is why is he helping?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you think it's a little weird," she asked, "that for nearly six months now, he's been training you like you were his apprentice, managing your fights for you, and tells you that tomorrow, you might get your chance to beat Botta? We never even met him before we walked into the waiting room the first time, and he acts like he's been with us since we first met!"

"It is a little odd I guess," he mused. "He hasn't even asked for anything in return. Who knows, maybe he just likes doing things that make him seem mysterious."

"I hope that's all," Sheena concluded. But silently, in the back of her mind, the puzzle that was Grisma was finally starting to come together. "You should probably get some sleep now. You've got a big day tomorrow," she said with a grin.

"You just figured something out, didn't you?" he asked.

"Maybe, we'll see soon enough," the grin widened.

"You can't just tell me?"

"Of course not, I don't want to jump to conclusions."

"It's not jumping to conclusions if you tell me what you're thinking," he reasoned.

"I'm still not telling you," her grin was now a teasing smile.

"Why not!" he started to whine.

"Because if I told you, then where would the fun be when it turns out that I am right? Don't worry, I'll tell you if it turns out that I was wrong."

"Can't you just tell me, so I don't have it on my mind while I'm fighting?"

"Nope."

By this point, Lloyd couldn't think of any more ways to try and get Sheena to tell him whatever it was that she had thought up, so he decided to concede and got ready for bed. When he got under the covers, he looked over at Sheena, and in an innocent voice inquired, "Can I at least get a goodnight kiss?"

"You'll get more than that I think," she replied with a devilish grin.

…The next day…

Lloyd was more than a little nervous that morning. He had barely managed to swallow down his breakfast and he couldn't stop fidgeting. He was worried about the possibility of fighting Botta. Sure, his odds were one in ninety nine, but that didn't ease his tension.

When he got to the arena, the atmosphere was completely different from its norm. Where there were once drinking songs and thousands of warriors, there were now only about a hundred or so and no one was in a singing mood. They all knew that one of them was going to get the beating of his life, but they also knew that it was the only chance they would get in a lifetime to reach a point that only the best could get to.

Lloyd waited with these fighters for what seemed like an eternity, or maybe just a few seconds it didn't feel like any measure of time had passed, but the waiting finally ended, Botta walked through the doors and into the waiting room. Lloyd couldn't believe what he saw. Botta looked exactly like Grisma! From the short spike haircut, to the white pants, Botta looked exactly like Grisma. The only difference was that he wasn't wearing a cloak.

Lloyd was at a complete loss for words. The man who had trained him, ran him to the bone, and beaten him into the fighter he was, was also the arena champion who Lloyd had heard nothing but praise for. Grisma was Botta.

"Who is it this year?" Botta asked. "Who do I fight this year?"

"Skip the formalities Botta," came one of the others. "Just pick your protégé so we can all watch him get crushed."

"Fine, if that's all you're here for," Botta replied. Then turning to Lloyd, he said, "Shall we then?"

"Any reason you didn't tell me who you really were?" Lloyd asked.

"I did tell you," Botta said. "Grisma's my last name."

"So why did you bother training me if you knew I wanted to beat you?"

"I'll answer that question after the fight," Botta responded. "Now, let's go. I hate it when I have to wait long for a fight."

They stepped out into the main arena and took their positions on either side. Surprisingly enough, Lloyd wasn't nervous anymore. Here he was, about to attempt the daunting task of wresting the title of Arena Champion from his own teacher, and he couldn't have been calmer if he were just watching clouds go by.

The gong sounded, and like two great storms, they crashed into each other, and the fight began. Lloyd took the early offensive, whirling his blades around like a pair of tornados, while Botta simply evaded each slash. The assault continued, each slash missing by mere fractions, and Botta didn't appear to be even trying. Was he toying with Lloyd? Had he trained him for so long, only so he could amuse himself? Lloyd was getting frustrated with his opponent, and his attention was fading.

With each attempt that failed, the next strike was sloppier, and getting progressively worse. And it wasn't helping that the swords were acting up again. Lloyd had thought he had mastered the swords weeks ago, but they were starting to feel like they first did. For nearly a month, the two swords had performed with nothing short of perfection, no changes in length or weight, not even a jolt of energy. Now they wouldn't stay the same and they were blasting his hands with their power. He could barely hold his swords, which weren't cooperating at all, and he was fighting an opponent who was dancing away from him like a clown. And to make matters even worse, the crowd was starting to laugh at him. Lloyd couldn't help but be angry.

Botta decided to start fighting at this point, and stepped to the side and let Lloyd charge straight through. Lloyd was wide open for the attack, and Botta delivered it in the form of a slash to his side. "What, you don't feel like fighting today boy?" Botta taunted him. "I thought you were going to beat me to the ground, you said so just last week."

He then kicked Lloyd hard to the lower back, sending him flying a good few meters. Lloyd got up, but with only one sword still in his hands. Gale had managed to escape, flying off to the side. It was too far away for Lloyd to try and get to it, Botta would intercept him first. But that was only if Botta tried to stop him. Lloyd rushed for the sword, hoping that Botta was still only clowning around. And it seemed that he still was. He wasn't pursuing him at least.

Lloyd realized why just before he could get to the sword. A well sized rock flew up from the ground, and smashed into his jaw knocking him backward. And Botta was right on top of him again. Another slash from his blade, and Lloyd was face down in the ground.

"Did you lose something, boy?" he asked with that taunting voice.

"My sword," Lloyd responded angrily, lifting his face from the dirt. "I didn't know you were an elf."

"Half-elf," Botta corrected. "And I see you haven't realized what you lost."

"What?"

"Think about it while I'm beating you. It'll make it easier for me to finish this."

He kicked Lloyd hard in the gut, and sent him rolling a few meters. Lloyd struggled to his feet, gasping for breath. He couldn't win like this. He needed to turn things around, or he'd never get this chance again.

The roars of the crowd were deafening in his ears. So loud, that they were splitting his head. The laughs, the booing, the yells of encouragement, they were all there, like a hammer, driving a giant chisel into his skull. Why couldn't they be quiet? Why couldn't they let him fight peacefully? Was this what it was like on a battlefield? Noise everywhere, driving you mad?

Another jaw smashing strike from Bottas' stone spell. When had he conjured that? Lloyd was flat on the ground, looking at the sky, his vision starting to narrow. He got up again, his knees starting to feel weak.

All he could see ahead of him now was Botta, charging straight for him, sword raised in a high guard. The yelling quieted for a moment, and there was only Botta. Only the stomping of his feet, the light of battle in his eyes. Lloyd took his remaining sword in a two handed grip, and planted his feet. "Time to make a stand."

AN: Well, I'm done with this chapter. What, you were expecting to see how Lloyd wins? Or were you expecting me to explain Bottas' motives? Yeah, I'm saving that for the next chapter. Do you want to know what happens? Well then, review, and maybe I'll get the next chapter up a little sooner. No guarantees though. See you guys later at Ch. 15: The Victory and The Aftermath. Laters!