Chapter 64: Runback – Fight to the Finish
Nation of Domination Arc – The World Championships
Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Zelda; this is just a Fan Fiction
Featured Music: "Character Select" – Killer Instinct (1994) OST. Chapter Briefing.
"The Instinct" – Killer Instinct (2013) OST. Scene 1 (First Half).
"Random Fire" – Judgement OST. Scene 2 (Second Half).
In having finally reunited with all of his old companions from his five-year prior adventures, Link and most of his group of friends all make good to their promises and sign up for the world championships; the greatest test and culmination of the Prima World Tour itself. Alwyn, Barkner, Vassia, Veronika, Lycidas, Ragnar and of course Link himself all manage to qualify for the top eight world championship martial arts tournament, having pre-acquired sufficient numbers of championship points to reach this point.
One other, however, also qualifies.
Raynard Van Garrick.
Last surviving member of the Van Garrick clan of Hyrule, Raynard is also current rival to Link, having barely bested him in the national Hylian championship; the 'Hylian Hyrax'. He hopes, with great fervour and near-hatred, to face-off with his rival, be it in the midst of the tournament's doings or straight at the end.
Link, having prepared to win through the cruellest teacher of martial arts, can only speculate how their fight would go after five years of hard work and preparation.
In the beginning of the world championships however, Link's initial match-up with his old friend and rival Ragnar goes fairly poorly… and a surprising ending at that; after five years of preparation, and after both having learned from the very same tutor, Link holds nothing back at Ragnar's behest and accidentally kills the man.
An outcome not unforeseen, even by Ragnar himself.
"This was… bound to happen… with the way my body is now…"
While the medical staff of the Prima World Tour attempt emergency medical aid, they cannot locate the source of the bleeding; a sheer anomaly that breaks leave of their senses, soon ending the stalemate of the battle and, indeed, even the very life of Ragnar himself. He gladly accepts this consequence, having known of the implications of his choice to tamper with his very body, and makes Link promise one final thing.
To win the world championship.
Link acquiesces to his friend's request, promising not just for his sake, but for his own; a long-held desire to win at least one tournament in his whole participation across his world tour of Aurelia. Although he wins his first match, and with incredible ease in testament to his impressive raise in strength and speed, it leaves him with a powerful distaste in his mouth having contributed to his fellow student's perhaps inevitable death… even if the outcome of Ragnar's fate appeared to be unstoppable.
As the medics take Ragnar's body away to be honoured, buried and entered into the Prima World Tour hall of fame, the tournament move their sights on to the next match-up; an unexpected yet old one played out before.
Round two; Vassia Palashia VS. Veronika Fedoroa.
Princess of the far-off kingdom of Palashia claws her fists against Stralanavian native Veronika's in what will be looked forward to as one of the best match-ups of the season…
Scene 1
"Welcome back, one and all, to the world championships!"
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH
The sound of the surrounding Aurelian audience seated in the thousands of seats and stands littered around the events hall filled the room with their cacophonous cheers, eager to get to the next match-up.
"If you've just joined us, you missed one hell of a match," the now-frowning Marshall spoke up from the announcer's room high above the events hall, speaking behind a thin-paned window as he did. "In the first time of our personal tenure through the Prima World Tour… we just witnessed our first death in the field of battle."
The seated audience, halting their chatter finally, turned their curious-eyed frowns up to the windowed-paned room.
"An old competitor of ours, and a friend, passed away during combat just a half hour ago," he began again, a saddened little frown written across his complexion. "Ragnar Romanov; said to have easily had the greatest record of any martial artist in and out of the Prima World Tour. A former national champion of Kaiohdrahl and of other underground circuits… he will truly be missed."
The curious 'Tasty' Seth next to him, a younger man, propped up a brown-haired eyebrow at him as he stared back at him. "What the hell could have caused that Marsh?"
"We're still not sure Seth," Marshall responded with, swerving his head 'round to face the youth with. "While his opponent did hit him… the medical staff still couldn't quite work out where the bleeding was occurring… until we had a quick autopsy done."
The listening Seth rose up his eyebrows curiously.
"Our fan favourite, 'Fire Fist' Firbrand has no complicity in the death of our old friend, Ragnar Romanov," Marshall finished, turning to cast a well-to-do smile over at the cheering audience. "As it turns out, Ragnar's body was on fast decline due to some in-house tampering he had recently took part in; sadly, it was an inevitable demise."
"Damn…," the listening Seth murmured out with a wince. "That's painful dude…"
"Indeed…," Marshall nodded along, briefly eyeing his younger friend as he did. "Our man Romanov died… but he died doing what he loved and what he was best at… there will never, ever be another artist quite like Romanov."
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH
"He will be entered into our hall of fame for his immense contributions to our world tour, and for his incredible fighting prowess… a feat saved only for the best."
"We sure gon' miss him Marsh…," the frowning-faced Seth responded with, shaking his head down at the empty tournament ring as he did, as if in disappointment. "I'm sure he'll be up there, with the greatest of 'em all… fightin' the legends!"
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH
The listening Marshall chuckled back, nodding in jovial agreement. "We can always hope, Seth," he responded with before soon re-facing the audience. "Now… don't go away people! We still have the greatest show with which to gift you and a recognisable pair coming up in round two!"
The grinning Seth nodded his head up at the thousands below him, speaking above the din of their cheers. "Yeah! So stick around!"
"Mon amour that was just fantastique!"
Link held back a wince as he felt the wide-smiling Vassia crash into him with a sudden embracing hug, almost as soon as he dredged his bare feet back into the competitor's box. Although he chose not to interrupt her or even respond to her, he cast her with a genuinely-annoyed glance before re-raising up his blonde-haired head to face his cringing and wincing friends ahead of them both.
While they at least seemed to realise the source of his melancholy, the senseless and insensitive Vassia opted not to take notice. The self-centred Palashian princess blinked when she realised he hadn't responded, even silently as he liked to, and rose her violet-curled haired head up to face his, raising a similar-haired eyebrow as she did.
"What? What's wrong chérie?"
"Have you no respect for the dead…?!"
The blinking Vassia about-turned her curled-haired head, only to find the half-offended Malon stepping out from her conjoined group of friends behind her, standing with her small hands clenched at her sides as if to display her offence.
"He very clearly can't say 'no' to you because he's feeling guilty you insensitive idiot!"
Vassia's curious-laced frown very quickly took an annoyed turn, and she pulled her slim fingerless gloved hands off of the young Hylian to about-turn and face her fire-haired rival behind her. "Hey!" She called back, similarly offended. "How dare you talk to me that way!"
Impa rolled her fire-red eyes in response to the childish bickering, lowering a hand on the tall Malon's shoulder. "All right Malon… that's enough."
The angered farm girl whipped her long-haired head 'round to face their Sheikah leader, impatient and angry. "But she-!"
"This won't bring Ragnar back…," Impa began in response, shaking her silver-haired head in disapproval as she did. "And if you hadn't noticed, Vassia, that's exactly what your would-be-betrothed is concerned about." She added, nodding her head in the blinking Palashian princess' direction.
Vassia's eyes widened and, finally she realised; the wincing young woman turned her violet-haired head to face Link's and, as he merely shook his head back at her in a weak smile as if to wave the matter away, he turned to march away presumably to be by himself.
"Wait! Link…"
He didn't even turn his ponytailed head 'round to face the frowning-faced Zelda when she attempted to offer out one of her soft-handed grips, barely brushing his own calloused one as he passed the group.
"Let him be darlin'," the similarly frowning-faced Barkner began with a shake of his own rock-skinned head. "Probably blames himself; I don't blame him," the Goron began again, sighing lightly as he pursed his lips in a light wince. "I would too."
"But I can't fight unless I get mon chérie's…"
"Come now Vassia…,"
The blinking Palashian princess turned her frown on the smiling-faced Veronika now stepping out in front of her.
"It has been five years since we last met…," she began reaching forward to outstretch a both hands, as if to be taken. The frowning-faced Vassia rolled her raven-shaded eyes back at the Stralanavian girl but relented, choosing to extend her hands forward as she did, taking Veronika's in hers. "Let's make this match a good one."
"Fine…," Vassia sighed out overdramatically, rolling her raven-shaded eyes at the young Stralanavian woman before her. "Let's do it… together… for our friends," she began in a well-meaning smile, drawing out a similar smile from the listening Veronika as she let go and turned, presumably to start marching toward the exit of the competitor's box. Vassia remained, but only for a second or two to very quickly cast a new-gained little smirk on her doll-like countenance, watching the marching Link far-off from them. "And for mon amour…"
2
"Here we are folks… round two!"
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH
As the sound of the surrounding Aurelian audience's screams and cheers filled up the Great Hall, so too did the smiling Mr. Marshall's response fill the void it left, like juicy filling on a delicious sandwich.
"It's been a beautiful tournament already; our first round saw a fan favourite – 'Fire Fist Firbrand' go toe-to-toe with his better, Ragnar Romanov… and win!"
"What a set that was Marsh," the ever-grinning 'Tasty' Seth responded, a younger man seated on the older commentator's right. "It's just a hell of a shame our boy Romanov ended up bitin' the arrowhead."
"Yes…," Marshall nodded, his own smile dropping in deferent respect as he nodded back. "Perhaps, now that he has gone to a better place, he may shake his fists with those of the ancient and legendary prowess…"
Even the listening audience remained silent, if only for a few moments, before chatter soon restored, allowing the commentators to continue.
"For now… let us honour him by proceeding with the rest of our glorious competition! A fight to the finish with current Palashian champion… Vassia Palashia!"
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH
As if by cue of his words, another pictograph display appeared on the window of which he spoke, depicting an older Vassia herself. Rather than smirking superiorly as in her very first pictograph, she opted merely to smile back at the viewer, leaning her slim body to the side as she gripped her fingerless gloves together, her long violet-curled hair coming down to her shoulders. Listed on the left of her pictograph was her statistic, as last having been seen fought in the PWT.
Vassia Palashia
Agility: S+
Side-Stepping: A+
Defensive Ability: A+
"I gotta tell ya Marsh; I am a fan of this chick!" Seth grinned back. "She might be overconfident… but she is one tough firecracker!" He continued on. "That Palashian grand finals dude!"
"One of the best we've ever seen," Marshall agreed on lightly, a smile on his own face. "Indeed, princess Palashia has shown us the true depth of her graceful skill and speed; her matches have had the most exciting records…"
"Double K.O.'s, draws and extremely close upsets man!" Seth laughed back, pulling his brown-haired head back as he did. "I love this chick!"
"But will any of it matter Seth…?" Marshall began again, this time with a curious-laden little grin as he tilted his head and nodded it in the direction of their window ahead of them both.
The pictograph switched again, this time to display a second young woman – the frowning-faced Veronika stared back at the viewer, dressed in her midnight-blue shaded dress, her own simple-styled long black hair also hitting her slim shoulders.
Veronika Fedoroa
Combination Damage: A
Aggressiveness: S
Side-Stepping: S
"This one's a wild-card folks… one that has an impeccable record thus far; in every set she's taken part in, Veronika has never lost a bout."
The listening Seth's eyes widened in sheer shock, almost unable to believe it. "R-Really Marsh?"
Marshall smirked back at the younger commentator, nodding in his direction. "Really," he reiterated, turning his head back to the front as if to face the people far-off past his window's distance. "They call her 'Stralanavia's Raven'; a fitting name for her! Veronika has, in the past, managed to take most of her opponents completely off-axis with her incredible Aegir-control and usage of her 'Soul Power' – a bespoke style of Aegir, fit only for Veronika's skilled hands!"
"Yo is this the chick from…?"
"That's correct Seth!" Marshall chuckled back, nodding as he did as if to confirm the wide-eyed Seth's words. "This is the winner of the Skirmish in Stralanavia, five years ago! Our current Palashian champion and Stralanavian champion; this will be a match of world class proportions!"
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH
As the sound of the surrounding people in the stands' cheers echoed out powerfully so too did the two competitors at long last begin to march out of the large box they all stood in, walking and watching the sheer size of their watching crowd. As the two young women stepped up onto the marble-stone staircase leading to the ring, they face one another on their far-off sides of their fighting arena, bowing in light smiles of mutual respect and friendship.
The silent group of friends beside them all in the competitor's box couldn't help but smile similarly as they watched, proud in the sheer level with which they had both grown; a far-sight from which they had started, especially with each other.
"Red side, ready!"
The once-smiling-now-smirking Vassia nodded back in the frowning-faced referee's direction in the centre of the ring, seemingly prepared for battle.
"Blue side, ready!"
As with her younger opponent, Veronika gave the referee a smile of her own, nodding as she affixed herself into her fairly graceful fighting stance.
"Go for it!"
Almost as soon as the announcer had spoken did Vassia react; she smirked on in seeming knowing as she began to twist her slender form expertly and gracefully. Like a spinning top she rapidly approached the young Stralanavian woman, white-dressed arms risen up horizontally as if to assist her glide forward. It didn't take very long for the narrow-eyed Veronika to react; she watched carefully and, like a light, she was out – almost as quickly as Vassia had came within range did she very suddenly vanish.
Vassia's raven-shaded eyes widened but, by then it was too late; Veronika's own slender form re-appeared abruptly in the young Palashian woman's undefended left side. The night-haired woman's midnight-blue dress lit up lightly as she leapt toward her in counter-attack, giving her an even-numbered assault, finishing with a unique attack of her own.
"Soul Spiral!"
VVVV…
KRSH
Vassia yelped and, like a small dog being kicked, was sent further forward the way in which she came, falling near-miserably to the ground as she did. The surrounding watching crowd gave out mixed cheers and boos, some for the Palashian champion and some for the Stralanavian. Perhaps angered by her lack of success, Vassia leapt to her feet and swung herself 'round to begin a second pursuit, wildly and recklessly attempting another assault.
Veronika narrowed both eyes and her slender form began to shimmer and flash in and out of itself; a shocking ability that left all watching within the Draerithian and Aurelian audience gasping and chattering. Even in great spite to Vassia's extremely quick and normally-accurate swipes, Veronika's shimmering form somehow managed to twist and phase through them; a signature of her 'Soul Illusion' technique. Perhaps angered, and growing impatient with her lack of success, Vassia widened her eyes and swept at the ground with her right foot; a long and wide sweep that surprisingly saw success – the shock-faced Veronika gasped out and, as she did, so too did her shimmering form react. The glimmering Stralanavian was knocked off her feet, twisting endlessly and vertically through the air for a follow-up.
Vassia hit the grunting young woman with a diagonal slice of her right open-palmed arm, twisting her own slender form as she did, before soon continuing the combination with a three-series strike to send Veronika far forward into a pained tailspin. As she landed on the ground, legs in the air, the Palashian princess finished her combination with a swift leap through the air into a graceful back-flip kick, ending in a back-turned-facing position.
Veronika watched, very carefully, as she rose cautiously to her feet, waiting for an overhead or a mid-follow-up. It was only when the smirking-faced Vassia instead chose to go low – a high-evading double-legged sweep, using her small fingerless-gloved hands to grip at the ground for cover as she did. The sweep landed and, as it did, Veronika gasped out a second time as she was knocked off her feet again, allowing Vassia to follow up with a second back-turned series of kicks; these ones one after the other.
SLAM
SLAM
Veronika yelped out this time in pain as she was sent flying from the strike, spinning as she was. Perhaps taking too deep a liberty, the smirking Vassia chose to spinning in place as she advanced forward after her foreign foe; a graceful and beautiful technique that looked more like a dance move than an actual martial arts move. In her third revolve, as she finally began to approach the bruised Veronika, the young Stralanavian narrowed both eyes and rose up her cursed arm; a deep-purple and powerfully-evil Aegir within emanated boldly as the similarly-shaded small claw she carried almost doubled in size, leaving an intimidating before the wide-eyed Vassia.
Although the swift Palashian princess attempted to halt her attack, it was simply too late; in her third spin as she swung 'round her right back-fist to attack with, Veronika's risen-up clawed arm caught the fist and lifted her small form up into the air. Vassia yelped out in wide-eyed shock and horror as she was simply tossed overhead, careering frighteningly through the air as she was. Vassia attempted, quite fiercely, to claw her own gloved hands at the marble tournament ring floor as she flew backward but in her speed she was simply moving too fast; indeed, her long nails even broke in the sheer velocity with which she was sent flying, eventually slamming back-first into the marble-stone audience stands outside of the ring.
Eventually, and perhaps inevitably, the poor Vassia found herself dropping helplessly onto the similarly-expensive laid ground below her; a confirmed 'ring out'.
"Ring Out!"
As the referee made his announcement, the chatter in the watching audience soon died down, allowing him to step out from watching outside of the battle arena. He walked over toward the gasping and wheezing Veronika, at first hesitating to touch her clawed and cursed hand, before reaching down for her human one. He rose it up in victory and cast his firm-faced frown toward the audience.
"This set's winner… is Veronika Fedoroa!"
