Pain. Pain was all there was. There was nothing but Crimson and the pain, and the pain was attacking her relentlessly; it wouldn't stop, it wouldn't stop, it wouldn't stop, it wouldn't stop…
Crimson slammed into the wall, pain creeping up her side. Her eyes snapped open; Fafnir was in front of her, drawing back for another attack. Noticing that she had woken up, Fafnir immediately slammed into her again. Crimson flew upwards and fell. Fafnir flew upwards; she dodged desperately.
"Nice interview, Crimson," Fafnir said nonchalantly, as if he were talking about the weather.
"Too bad that you chose to insult me. Looks like you'll be one of the first I put out of order." Why aren't they stopping this? Spectra's words from what seemed like so long ago rung true. "And, even though they help you heal now, the last few rounds are an extreme, cutthroat challenge. If you break your leg, you're expected to keep competing, and competing, or you're eliminated. Cast aside like roadkill…" Spectra's right. Now that I'm this far, there's no rules. Fafnir is free to kill me. Angry, Crimson switched directions, momentarily confusing Fafnir. However, it didn't last long.
Fafnir snarled and charged ahead of her. Crimson found herself stopping as he spun around and slammed into her again, knocking her into the wall for the third time. She tried to shake it off, but her body didn't seem to want to cooperate. Fafnir flew up to her and sank his horns into her side. Crimson saw blood; she dimly turned away, roaring in agony.
Then a Love Dragon was at her side, ripping Fafnir from her.
"Just because we're in the Games doesn't mean we have to be monsters," Kindle said politely. Fafnir suddenly swapped targets and knocked her upwards. She tried evading him, but Fafnir was on her, sinking his horns into her front leg. Angrily, Crimson lunged at him, but he spun around, throwing Kindle at her. The two dragons collided and Crimson fell to the ground in a heap.
"I'm trained much more than any of you fools are," taunted Fafnir. "You Love Dragons and your silly morals. No 'kind dragon', as Crimson put it, will ever win the games. It takes determination! Courage! Ruthlessness!"
"It also takes intelligence," someone said, knocking Fafnir away. "Which is something you seem to lack." The speaker, a powerful looking Forge Dragon, seemed to enrage Fafnir even more. He lunged at the Forge; the Forge was on him in a flash, parrying Fafnir's blows with his spear-like tail. Crimson duly remembered his interview; she had judged him to be an ambitious, stuck-up dragon like Fafnir. It seemed that she was clearly wrong.
"How so?" leered Fafnir, finding a weak spot in the Forge's defenses as Crimson rammed into him, knocking him into a wall.
"Any intelligent dragon wouldn't take on three dragons at the same time," noted the Forge. "You'll just humiliate yourself."
"Crimson!" shouted a familiar voice, zipping to her side. "What the…" Crimson turned away from Fafnir's limp body to look at Flurry. It was a mistake; Fafnir charged away, hitting Kindle one last time before departing. "Did he do that? If he did that…"
"He'll understand eventually," Kindle said, sighing. "It might take him his whole life to figure it out, though."
"Fafnir did that?" Flurry screeched. "Crimson, you look awful!" Crimson snuck a glance at her side; it hurt badly, and she winced.
"Knowing him, he probably would have killed them both," said the Forge Dragon. Flurry turned to him.
"Who are you again?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"That's Wisp," Kindle said. "He was the dragon who had the story about his weird breeder and the hot metal habitats he had to endure as part of his training. Remember?"
"I didn't pay attention to most of them," Crimson admitted. The gashes in her side were overwhelming; she stopped flying and started to rest. Is this the end? This wound might cost me the next round.
"Crimson, that looks really bad," Flurry said worriedly. "I wish I could help." Crimson thought back to a time earlier, when Flurry had first seen her. Back then, he was mean and inconsiderate. So much has changed in just a few rounds. Then again, that's a really bad wound.
"If we could find a dragon with strong enough magic, we could help heal her," Wisp remarked. "But I don't think many dragons care about their opponents. Not everyone lives by Kindle's morals, unfortunately."
"It's okay," Crimson said weakly. "I can deal with it."
"Crimson, we're not letting Fafnir get his way!" Flurry shouted angrily. "He sought to eliminate you. With these wounds, Crimson, you don't have a chance in this round. He's going to get rid of one of his top enemies without any costs to himself; we need to help her." Crimson thought about Spectra's words.
"Winning isn't that important," she insisted. "By the end of these Games, half of us will have injuries this bad, one of us will be dead, and-"
"And three of us will be obscenely rich," butted in Flurry. "You deserve victory. There's no way I'm going to let Fafnir win this and rip dragons away from their rightful place."
"Crimson's right, Fafnir," Kindle replied. "Unfortunately enough, most of us are going to be dotted with wounds by the top 8. You have no idea what kind of terror the next few rounds will be. The hosts always make sure to make them painful."
"In my interview, I skipped a dragon," murmured Crimson. "Spectra. She seemed glad to lose; she knew just how bad the Games would get. This is only a beginning."
"Indeed," added Wisp.
"We're in this to win this," persisted Flurry.
"No, Flurry. Fafnir is. Are you really like him?" Crimson asked. "The wizards do this for their own entertainment. There's huge crowds all the time; this is exactly what they want us to do. If we were all kind and nice, and put playing fair above winning, we'd be able to teach the wizards what the Dragon Games should be about." Flurry paused.
"You're right," he sighed. "I still don't see how we can heal you."
"Aren't love dragons supposed to have the strongest magic in terms of positive effects?" asked Wisp. Kindle backed away, looking embarrassed.
"I wish," she said fervently. "Imagine what I could do with that! Unfortunately, no. It requires training by another love dragon to use it; training that I unfortunately don't have."
"My breeder isolated me," muttered Wisp. "I know how you feel." Crimson shuddered, imagining a lonely life without Stoney. Nine weeks was all I had with him, she thought. Nine weeks was enough to know that he was the best friend a dragon could have.
"Anyways," Flurry said, taking flight. "I'll see what I can do. Later," he said with a flash, and then he was gone.
"I don't like that one," Kindle said. "A bit too…ambitious."
"Aren't we all?" Wisp asked, walking slowly away. Kindle sat there, thinking.
"Maybe if I willed you to be healed, it would happen," she said slowly. She stared at Crimson's wound, narrowing her eyes in concentration. Crimson didn't feel any noticeable relief in the pain, and eventually Kindle stopped. "It's no use," she admitted. "I can't channel the magic."
"At least you tried," Crimson said. This is probably where it ends. A wound like this is painful, and will probably cost me the round. But Fafnir…imagine the look on his face if I pull through!
Suddenly, there were loud sounds of a fight. Kindle looked up and flew over, then retreated.
"What's happening?" Crimson asked.
"Fafnir attacked Wisp, and a bunch of other dragons joined in," she replied. Kindle glanced over again. "Fafnir's wounded. So's Wisp, Icy, X, Bubble, and Star. None of them seem to be badly hurt, though."
"How do you remember the names of so many dragons?" Crimson remembered the name Icy from the top 10, Star was a Topaz Dragon that had been shy and done a horrible interview, and X was a Lava Dragon with an odd name from the interviews, but she couldn't remember most of the others.
"It's just natural," murmured Kindle. She sighed. "I don't understand why our competitors think fighting is such a good idea." The pedestal in the center of the Colosseum began to rise. "Oh, here we go again…"
"Welcome, welcome, wizards and witches, Breeders and common folk alike!" said a frustratingly familiar voice. Crimson couldn't remember where it came from, but when she turned to look, she immediately recognized him. It's the wizard who was holding the torch in the first round. "I apologize for the gory scene, but our dragons seem to be getting restless. It's common for them to attack each other; but a fight of such a large size isn't normal. Only five dragons have remained unscathed, and only one of those five was actually in the fight." Restless? That's an understatement. Crimson snorted. The fight was a lot bigger than I expected it to be, though. I won't be the only crippled one. Serves Fafnir right to get struck down. Crimson's own thought appalled her. No. Hate is for the bad ones. Kindle is right. I shouldn't be like them.
"Before further ado, we all know that the top 32 is the round where clauses are selected," continued the host. "These clauses will last until the final four." Crimson glanced at Kindle.
"Clauses?" she mouthed.
"No idea," Kindle responded quietly.
"Our first clause, given the circumstances, is a very predictable one. It is the Healing Clause; as many of our dragons are injured, natural and magical healing is forbidden. Sleeping is also forbidden." Crimson stopped in shock. Healing is forbidden? And sleeping? They're trying to kill us with pain and exhaustion!
"The second clause is the Darkness Clause, another common one," said the announcer. "From now on, dragons will spend time in-between matches in a small, pitch-black room with the other dragons. Via magic, we'll be able to see inside." Crimson heard a cry of outrage from a nearby Blazing Dragon. She felt the same way. A small, dark room, cooped up with other dragons; it sounded horrible.
"Our final clause today is the Results Clause," said the announcer. "Dragons will from now on be able to see their matchups and the matchups of other dragons on a large list in the sky. At the end of their match, they'll be able to watch the list as dragons slowly emerge victorious from their respective matches." At least that's not bad. As Crimson watched the announcer, icons and names appeared in the sky. Kindle gasped besides her. Crimson watched as the icons and names spun, and eventually they stuck to one other icon. Those must be our matches.
Flurry vs. X, Release vs. Blaze, Kindle vs. Flare, Crimson vs. Trinket, she read. Trinket's icon was that of an iron dragon. She looked around for her opponent; Kindle had left her side, and she glimpsed the Love Dragon flying slowly away. Crimson turned around the pedestal, and then she glanced back at the host. Something was emanating from his wand. She stared as giant white beams of light slammed into the ground, causing great shaking. The massive crowd began to clap and shout, and then a beam came and hit Crimson directly in the head.
Where was she? She couldn't see; nor could she feel, hear, taste, or smell. She had no sense of anything, and it was extremely disconcerting. This didn't make sense. What was going on?
Crimson seemed to materialize, her senses instantly returning. She was on a pedestal, above what seemed to be a sea of light. She stared downwards, then glanced up. The light was above and around her, too. She heard a snort and turned to see a narrow bridge connecting her pedestal to another one with a smug-looking Iron Dragon on it. Several bubbles floated through the air.
"This round's event is simple. Called Shovefight, you all may know it better as Sumo. The goal is simple; push your opponent off of their pedestal." Beams of light went up around the sides of the narrow ledge and the part connecting it to the pedestals. "Flying is disabled for this event." Crimson started. She tried to fly, willing all the magic in her to get her off the ground. It didn't work. I can't fly, she thought dimly. I can't fly! She had never felt more helpless in her life. "Trinket the Iron Dragon will be competing against Crimson the Panlong Dragon in this event." Crimson thought back to the interviews; she didn't remember Trinket, so his interview must have been duller than the others. "The match will begin in three seconds. Three, two, one!"
The beams of light separating the pedestal from the path disappeared; the ones around it, however, remained steady. Trinket sprinted forwards, startling Crimson. After a moment's hesitation, she charged forwards as well. The pain in her side was immediate as she ran. Agh! That Fafnir! Trinket's massive, sharp horn slammed into her head. It cut through her easily, earning a scream of pain. Crimson backed up and Trinket continued on. Wait! How can I do this? I'm even more injured, Trinket has a huge iron horn, and I'm tired…Trinket collided with her again, once again cutting her and forcing her further back. Suddenly, his tail reared back and slammed into her head. Crimson felt dizzy, and she backed up further.
It's over, she thought dimly. Trinket charged again. As he charged, Crimson glimpsed something, and then there was pain. Aaaargh! Her head was in agony. She desperately tried parrying with her own horns, but she failed horribly. Trinket cut her once again. This time, Crimson realized what she had glimpsed. There's a dent in his side. He must have gotten it during the fight earlier! Crimson suddenly dove, faking trying to go underneath him. Trinket slammed his horn into the ground, pinning her there; but she was safely far enough to bite the dent. Trinket screamed and reared his head back, throwing her into the air. Crimson, unable to fly, used the momentum to get onto the other side of Trinket.
Trinket, confused on what to do, just stared. Eventually, he spun around and lunged at Crimson. Crimson ran at him quickly, but jumped at the last moment. His tail smashed into her head, knocking her backwards onto his pedestal. Spots began dancing in her vision. The audience clapped wildly as Trinket charged at her again. Crimson willed herself to get up, but everything hurt. No…not like this…
"Stoney!" Crimson screamed. It was here. Her Breeder was taking her.
"Win it for me, Crimson!" Stoney called back. "I believe in you!"
"I don't want to go!" Crimson sobbed. "Not today! Not now!"
"Crimson, you have to," Stoney said, comforting her. "You'll win! You're the greatest dragon in the entire world! You can win this!"
"I'll win it!" Crimson repeated. "I will!"
Crimson leaped up to her feat and hopped. Trinket, charging far too fast, slammed his tail into the ground as a brake. Crimson rammed into him as he teetered precariously on the edge. He tipped over and began to fall. Crimson began to watch, but suddenly his tail slammed back onto the pedestal, knocking her backwards. The pain reappeared. How is he still doing this? Crimson wondered as Trinket slowly lugged himself back up by his tail. Flurry's interview came to mind. "None of them are as fast, or as agile as me. And as long as I can outspeed them, I'll be able to catch anything they throw at me." Agility! That's how I can win! Trinket, apparently shaking off the near-loss, charged angrily at her again. The crowd was insane at this point, cheering without purpose.
Trinket charged again. As Crimson jumped, he jumped, too, landing an easy blow with his tail directly to her face. She screamed in agony, tumbling to the ground and landing on her pedestal. He charged again, and Crimson stayed limp until the last second, leaping on Trinket and crawling over him. He aimed a blow with his tail, but Crimson was ready and jumped at the right second, causing him to slam his tail into his back. Trinket roared, but with his tail in the wrong position, he was unable to slow down, and tumbled off the edge. Crimson smiled in satisfaction.
Then there was a bright flash, and she heard a scream. Crimson finally allowed herself to feel her many wounds, and she rested. This time, she welcomed the mysterious beam of light as it took the pain away.