CHAPTER 3

A/N – Hello everyone! I saw from the reviews that you're all excited about Maka's first fight. To be honest, I am too, I really hope it turned out okay ;) Again, thanks so much for your support, it keeps me going and makes my day every single time! That being said, enjoy today's chapter ;))

"And why must I suffer such humiliation? As if it wasn't enough that master Galiel yells at me every time a fighter of ours gets defeated in a match, now that bastard Jarblack has made a habit in coming to bug me!" Maka heard the training master Ox lamenting outside in the dungeons corridor. "And after today's match we'll never hear the end of his gloating!"

The blonde had not slept all night. Of course, she knew that she should have rested, but it had been simply impossible. She might have very well been living the last hours of her short life. Stein had tried to be encouraging about her first fight, but Maka could muster no optimism whatsoever. Ox had said she and the other newcomers would be put into filling matches, but what did that mean? Surely not that they were less dangerous - a crap fighter from another House could still be better, stronger and more experienced than her.

She was brought breakfast in her cell by a lycan slave – the usual piece of dark bread, some meat and a cup of… was that ale? Maka decided it looked rather ominous, aside from the fact that she could not get herself to put anything in her mouth.

"You should eat, drink the ale too. It'll do you good," Stein said, and the blonde realised he'd been standing right outside her cell for a while. "I know," he went on, "you don't see the use of it. But… I think today won't be that bad. I believe in you"

"Doctor Stein, I…" the blonde whispered, blinking back sudden tears," I am very grateful for your kind words"

She walked with him to the gates area, only this time it seemed a much shorter and more dreadful walk. Training master Ox was there, together with a few of the other new slaves. They looked just as pale and frightened as she was. And Evans. What the hell was he doing here? Had he come to amuse himself? Predictably and unheeded by anyone, Ox continued to point out that this was the worst day of his life (why of his life though, the blonde wondered), while the scythe boy simply stood there with a bored expression and a cup in his hand.

Outside the audience was already filing the seats, a steady background noise settling in as they waited for the day's matches to be announced. Then the king appeared as usual in his sumptuous balcony, surrounded by his courtiers. Soon after, the Master of Ceremonies announced the fights of the day out loud, Maka noting that her match came fourth. Then the iron gates of the ground level were lifted and the first pair of warriors walked upon the sands, acclaimed by the spectators.

As much as she tried not to think of it, the blonde felt the tension building up inside her, churning her stomach and stiffening her muscles. Instead, she struggled to distract herself with what was happening outside. Her gaze wandered to their House section, looking for their master. Lord Galiel appeared to make comments every now and then, genuinely interested in what was going on, but more or less ignored by his wives, who seemed utterly bored by the spectacle.

The first fight ended quickly, followed by the second after the break and finally the third – the much awaited match of the day between Haruva, the magic monster of the House of Eleazad and Amberath the Young, of the House of Hamza. Amberath was apparently the favorite of the public, but this time the odds were against him. After an unsuccessful attack, he was run through by his opponent and then swiftly beheaded. The crowd roared wildly as Amberath's head rolled down in the sand.

"Shit!" Soul exclaimed, rapidly downing what was left of his drink, while Maka was simply left staring, yet unable to comprehend what happened.

"Blair 'the Cat' Purple of the House of Zoar will fight Maka Albarn of the House of Galiel, in half an hour," the Master of Ceremonies shouted at last.

Half an hour… That's how much I've got left – half an hour, Maka thought, as the lycans of the armory instantly showed up and got to work. It would also be the shortest half hour she'd seen so far. Further to her horror, she discovered that her armor only consisted of a chainmail plated bra which was put over her usual leather one, an equal improvement being done to her short skirt.

"Full breastplates are expensive and easily damaged. Master said none for scum beginners," training master Ox explained bluntly, in response to Stein's questioningly raised eyebrow.

At least the scythe looked better than the one she'd been given for practice. Just as heavy, but the handle was wrapped in strips of leather and the blade was clean and sharpened to perfection.

"Well, it is time. Good luck!" Stein said calmly, with the shadow of a smile, while Evans simply nodded and raised his recently refilled cup.

Maka walked outside on the sand, momentarily blinded by the bright light and deafened by the noise, although it was rather unclear if the crowd cheered or booed her. More likely they were still ecstatic from the previous match. To her confusion, the opposite gate remained closed, but there was a sudden puff of purple colored smoke and the blonde was finally able to see her opponent. A young, purple haired girl with strange yellow eyes and wearing a pointed hat and tight, short black leather dress sat on a gigantic pumpkin which magically floated in the air. The girl gave Maka a curious and brief once-over and laughed.

"And no one shall be denied death," she said disdainfully as a conclusion, causing the blonde to grit her teeth in annoyance and weigh her weapon, already impatient.

And then Blair attacked, taking the blonde completely by surprise. Maka had seen no weapon on the purple haired girl, therefore there was no way in hell she could expect to see a pumpkin shaped bomb flying in her direction in the next second. She quickly jumped to the side, dodging the blast. Scowling, she sought a way to attack her opponent, but the large flying pumpkin Blair was comfortably seated on moved very fast and at quite a height.

All Maka could do was to avoid being directly hit by the bombs the other girl kept tossing, although flying sparks reached her every time, burning the bare skin of her arms and legs. She swung the scythe a few times, but to no avail.

"Blair, we are all getting terribly bored!" Jarblack shouted from the opposing gate, his thundering voice doubled by laughter covering the crowd's noise. "Finish her off already!"

Suddenly something like a whip of fabric sprang from the purple haired girl's pointed hat and in the blink of an eye shot down and wrapped itself tightly around Maka's left ankle. Before the blonde could even realise what was going on, she was held up in the air head down. A moment later, she was violently thrown straight into the wall of the Arena. Maka screamed – or thought she did – as she flew helplessly through the air, in a sequence of nightmarish moments, followed by crushing into something solid. It hurt like absolute hell and she could almost hear a few ribs crack at impact, but she managed to avoid smashing her face in at the cost of her left shoulder.

The stone wall was rugged, awfully scraping her skin, but it also slowed her fall. And then her battered fingers miraculously encountered an edge she could grip with one hand, no matter how painful it was, while the other stubbornly continued to hold on to the scythe. Hearing Blair's obnoxious giggle just a little below, Maka made a split-second decision. With a shout, the blonde pushed both her legs into the wall and flung herself in the direction of Blair, driving the scythe down as hard as she could. As she fell, the blade missed the other girl but cut off a large portion of the pumpkin, causing it to collapse down on the ground, sending Blair tumbling. The crowd cheered madly, once more entertained by what was going on.

Much to her misfortune, Maka landed on her crushed shoulder and the pain almost made her pass out. It hurt so badly that she couldn't even scream and tears slid silently down her cheeks. But there's no time to lose! Get up! Get up! If I want to win I must strike now!

"I will crush you, like the little bug that you are!" Blair hissed, struggling to get back on her feet as Maka walked towards her determined. The fabric whip shot out again, capturing the blonde's left arm, but with considerably less force and it only pulled her forward. Maka swung the enormous scythe as hard as she could, just as the other girl launched a pumpkin bomb at her. Blair was cut in half by the blade, but the blonde could not avoid the explosion. She staggered on her feet for another moment before dropping her scythe and collapsing on the ground, face down.

The Temple of Nights and Days, built out of a myriad of black and white marble blocks, was profiled in a striking contrast against the bright, ever blue sky of the Citadel and it was surrounded by a large, artificial pond, despite the fact that it was literally in the middle of the city. Thus, the High Priest known as the Ourouboros could have his own island of peace and quiet in the middle of the surrounding madness. The pink haired boy named Chrona, already dizzied by the unimaginable chaos of Citadel life, stared in wonder at the majestic columns rising before them, holding both the promise of success with their mission and the threat of yet unknown danger. More like the latter, the servant had to conclude, eyeing the two guards waiting motionless by the Temple doors.

The two twin magical creatures - commonly nicknamed Clowns due to their bizarre colorful outfits and red painted grins – were in fact quite gruesome looking, aside from being of enormous size, and each had one arm replaced with sinister looking tongs. Their helmets were adorned with a pair of equally colorful but visibly sharp horns.

"Well, master, it looks promising so far," he observed, turning to the other boy, wrapped in a black tasseled cloak and looking very grim.

"Oh yes, especially them," Kid grumbled, motioning towards the two Clowns who stood in the shadow, on each side of the doors, like two very large decorations of extreme bad taste.

Chrona looked puzzled. "But surely… master Eibon has arranged everything, has he not? There shouldn't be any problem regarding your acceptance within the shinigami core ranks… right?"

The reaper shook his head and rummaged through his pockets, producing a small piece of paper. "Master Eibon has only arranged for me an interview with the priest in charge, someone named…" he paused to unfold the paper and squinted at it "…Ghuro Kyleh. Apparently he is supposed to ask me some questions and if I give the right answers I will be received at the Temple. However… if I screw up as little as a single question… they'll feed us to the two Clowns there"

"What?!"

Kid patted the terrified boy's shoulder lightly and sighed. "Look, Chrona, I know that my father told you to come with me, but I won't ask this of you. The moment we walk through those doors… there's no turning back. If I get the questions wrong I'll be considered 'of impure intent' and I won't be left alive. And neither will you if you go in there with me"

The magical child shook his head and gripped his master's hand. "I won't leave you! I could never leave you, master!" He paused, biting his lower lip nervously. "Um… let's not be negative, okay? I mean, why would you possibly screw the questions? What are they about, anyway?"

"Well I don't know, do I? It's not like master Eibon bothered to find out! As far as he's concerned we're nothing but garbage. Why would he care if we're eaten alive by the Ourouboros' fucking magical creatures?" the young shinigami replied."He's a damned noble, so proud of his blood, 'of the true royals'! He's probably never done anything in his entire life!"

Kid started up the pristine marble steps leading to the dark oak double doors, still grumbling ill-humoredly, while Chrona followed closely. The gruesome guards made no move to stop them – in fact made no move whatsoever – as they stepped inside the Temple. The pink haired servant suddenly felt the need to hug himself as the indoors temperature was significantly lower than outside in the scorching sun, but a pleasant light was filtered through the stained glass windows on each side of the vast hall. Aside from that and the black and white marble walls and floor, there were no other decorations in sight, the interior looking surprisingly simple.

"Why are you here?"

The question had come from a small boy who couldn't be older than perhaps ten, but his affiliation was unmistakable – the large golden eyes with a defiant expression were striking on his very pale face, short raven black hair with a single longer, stark white strand to the side, artfully combed behind his left ear. He wore nothing but a pair of silk black slacks, although – Kid inwardly remarked – all that expanse of bare skin was pointless since he hadn't come of age yet. He had nothing to show for yet.

"We're here to see Master Ghuro Kyleh," he replied bluntly, in his usual voice.

The boy let out an almost inconspicuous snort. "Certainly you must mean Master Gur Kylee," he corrected. "Come, he's been expecting you."

Ah, fuck, I screwed up his name, that can't be good… Kid pondered as the petite boy turned on his heels, upright and stiff, clearly overwhelmed by his own importance. He led them into a side corridor which looked like a narrower and longer version of the main hall and with fewer windows.

"I am the one called Pure Truth, for now at least," the little shinigami said, "and I also know who you are, Death the Kid. But isn't such a name too obvious? I suppose it must be hard for you to wear it"

"Not at all," Kid replied calmly. "I see no point in concealing what I am. As for who I am, I believe you have no idea"

Pure Truth rolled his eyes blatantly. "You're a mercenary, just like your father, even if he dares call himself a priest. And I hope you realise that you have a horrible reputation here at the Temple. I've heard that you often fight with pistols – how abominably vulgar! It makes sense, if you were raised in the Provinces. But with my education and training, I for one will never end up with such a reputation. And I pray constantly, so I'm sure the Gods will be good with me"

"Of course not," Kid agreed kindly. "With your pretty face and weak body, surely better educated in how to comb your hair than in wielding a weapon, you'll make someone's whore at most. And if the Gods are good, you might actually get paid for it." The older shinigami glanced down benevolently at the boy, smiling. "If your master thought I'm as short-fused as to go and pick a fight with someone as insignificant as you, he was wrong. And judging by your words, you probably have a crush on me or something…"

Pure Truth appeared horribly insulted, especially by the last part, but there was no time left for him to shoot back any other poisonous remark. They had arrived at a large white wooden door, beautifully carved and decorated with tiny incrusted ivory pieces and the boy opened it slowly, after a soft knock.

Kid couldn't help a slight grimace and Chrona gasped at the sight of Master Gur Kylee – the priest, seated comfortably in a sort of cushioned throne in the back of a relatively small, light flooded room, was bald and very fat, surprisingly lacking the shinigamis' natural gracefulness. His age could not be told either, yet he seemed to take great care of his appearance. The outline of his golden eyes was carefully defined with black kohl and a multitude of gem necklaces and beads adorned his bare torso, strikingly complimenting the black tattoos.

Kid groaned. "This is gonna suck…" he muttered almost inaudibly, as the priest motioned him to step closer.

Master Gur Kylee was not alone, at his side stood a tall, lean young man, in a position meant to point that he was the Master's favorite. His long black bangs, each of them perfectly lined with white, shadowed his eyes and otherwise quite dubious expression.

"Before you are Master Gur Kylee and his ward Asura," Pure Truth pointed, before the one named Asura waved his hand at him in dismissal.

"So… you are finally here…" the fat priest spoke, raising a ring laden hand to his chin thoughtfully. "We have heard a lot about you, son of Lord Death, and none of it good…" He paused to let out a sort of almost girlish chuckle, assessing the young reaper in front of him. "I have to say, that intrigued us greatly. Even more your father's desire that you should join us. Would you indeed do anything to obey his will?"

"Yes, Master"

"Very well then. As I'm sure you were probably told, there's a small test for you to pass. Take this ball from my hand. If you tell a lie, it will burn your hand and we will know. And I think you know what will happen then – the same thing which will happen if you give a truthful, but wrong answer…"

Kid eyed the black, perfectly smooth marble sphere reluctantly, but took it anyway. There's no turning back at this point. And I've been taught to obey, if nothing else…

"We do not doubt your fighting skills, of course. Which is why you were accepted for this test in the first place, but… it is your morals that we question, your suitability to comply with our rules and to embrace our values. Now…" Master Gur Kylee leaned to the side and glanced past the young shinigami, curiously observing the pink haired boy who had remained by the door staring nervously at his dusted boots. "Your servant – is a boy or a girl?"

Kid flinched, his fingers closing involuntarily around the ball as he stared at it. No, there's no way they could know that Chrona is a gender-shifter… "He is of course a boy, Master"

The priest sighed. "Look into my eyes when you answer the questions, Death the Kid. Do you consider yourself of 'pure intent'?"

"Of course, Master" You have no idea…

"But is your body pure? Have you ever touched a woman, in any way?" Asura intervened, his voice a sort of creepy drawl perfectly matched to his shady appearance.

Kid blinked. What sort of absurd question was that – in any way? He'd touched Liz and Patty, obviously, since they had been his pistols… and his sisters. But telling the truth about it, no matter how innocent, would have been a wrong answer. And now the Clowns will eat us! FUCK!

"Look at me, not the ball," Master Gur Kylee reminded, while his ward Asura was beginning to grin.

Oh, what the hell, suppose I can take one damned burn, they won't notice. "No, I have not"

"Have you ever entertained improper thoughts about a woman?" the priest asked, impassible.

"No"

"Do you fancy women in any way?"

"No"

"You're lying, aren't you?" Asura cut in again, obviously disappointed. "Master, he's lying! He was afraid earlier, I saw his hand tremble! Order them both to be fed to the Guards! You can't possibly-" His rant was cut short by an abrupt gesture of the priest's hand, effectively silencing him.

"Very good," Master Gur Kylee stated, nodding slowly, with a shadow of a smile. "Go and rest now, your assignment begins tomorrow"

"Oh master… this place is very strange. And…um… dangerous?" Chrona observed, glancing around the small room they were to share at the Temple." That child was surely quite rude, not to say anything worse."

"Oh, little Pure-Pain-in-the-ass is not a problem," Kid replied wearily, "but that fellow Asura is already suspicious of me. He'll most likely keep an eye on us and try to poison Gur Kylee against us… That's why, Chrona, we'll have to be very careful. Under no circumstances can they find out that you're… well that you can be a girl. They'd feed us to the Clowns instantly!"

Chrona nodded quickly and Kid sat down on the small, narrow bed with a huff. "What the hell is with this bed? Are we hobbits?" he grumbled as sitting on the low mattress almost brought his knees to his mouth. "And stop staring at me, it makes me feel uncomfortable"

"But master, I think you look fantastic!"

The magic child had always been aware of his master's tattoos, covering his body from neck to toe, but they were usually concealed by his full black suit, or at least by trousers and a long sleeved shirt. He knew they had hurt, so much that in the first few days after 'coming of age' Kid had not been able to get any sleep. But he had no idea how fascinatingly the smooth, charcoal-like designs hugged the shinigami's slender frame, reaching around a large skull which covered half his torso and stomach, with long, sharp teeth ending somewhere beneath the waistband of the black silk slacks.

"Hmph… I beg to differ…"

To be continued