—15—
Overwhelming numbers of Paddraean citizens and Jedi were mingling in the cavernous hallways. Lightning could only see a portion of the elliptical Arena. A seasoned fighter she may be, but performing in front of thousands of spectators was, unquestionably, a bit distressing.
The Ronso led Lightning down a narrow corridor to the preliminary training chamber. Inside the room, dozens of kids, young adults, and officials were spread out over the matted floor. Some were in small groups practicing footwork. Some were meditating quietly in the corners. Others were practicing their saber skills with training droids. A fair few were unarmed, shadow sparring each other.
The Ronso looked at Lightning before pulling a silver and black-trimmed hilt from his robe pocket. He extended it to the soldier.
"Zappy take Kimahri's lightsaber as apology?"
Lightning's thoughts wandered to Kimahri's charge outside the gates of Paddra. Despite how disgruntling she found the name 'Zappy,' she was honored by the Ronso's offer.
Accepting the silver hilt, Lightning replied, "I appreciate it . . . Master."
"Zappy not soldier anymore," the Ronso informed.
Yeah, I've known that, Lightning thought. For a second time, she was nothing more than a convict in the eyes of the Guard Corps. She wasn't 'Captain Farron' anymore—just Lightning. She nodded in understanding.
The blue master looked approvingly before he said, "Kimahri explain Tournament rules."
—15—
Vanille marveled at the grandeur of the event—spectators in the thousands. She sat with the Paddraean Noble Court on the reserved observation deck. Dozens of feet below her, the Arena floor divided into 16, open-top compartments.
Seated two rows behind Vanille, a blonde, aristocratic man observed the royal entourage with intrigue. "Raijin, who's that red-head sitting between Cloud and the Archprincess?"
"No clue," the tan man replied.
"She's probably just a town girl, Seifer," a silver haired woman proposed.
"Hardly. A face as fair as hers—somebody would know her," Seifer replied
"You're sure?"
The young aristocrat nodded, set his elbow on the armrest, and leaned his chin on a closed fist. He continued looking intently at the back of the pretty red-head who was conversing with the Archprincess.
"—32 Jedi Initiates for every age group," Yuna explained. "Each round ends by unarmed submission or when 3 lightsaber burns are delivered to one's opponent."
"So," Vanille quickly did the math in her head, "5 rounds make a winner?"
Yuna smiled. "Yes, 3 one-on-one rounds. The fourth round is a duel between the 4 finalists. Once there's a winner, Grandmaster Auron opens all the gates, and the 28 failed Initiates come storming in on the 4 finalists for the fifth round."
"What's the point of 4 people fighting, and then all 32 people fighting right after?" Vanille inquired.
"The fifth round is a chance to showcase endurance," Cloud's voice answered. "Jedi show great aggression and intensity the first 4 rounds, but stamina is necessary to endure the 5th round."
"Yep, they go until the last one standing!" Rikku added.
Vanille's eyes widened before returning her attention to the Arena floor, "The last one standing?" she whispered.
"She'll be fine," came the male voice sitting next to her.
"I know she will be. I just . . ." Vanille's voice trailed off.
"It's okay," Cloud assured.
Vanille smiled. "You had to do this too?"
Cloud nodded. "All Initiates do. It's pretty tiring, but it's also fun."
Vanille was comforted by Cloud's words. With her anxiety in check, the red-head investigated down the rows, a muscular, bronzed man with gravity-defying, red hair sat at a desk—a microphone and papers scattered in front of him.
"Majesty, who's that?" Vanille indicated to the second red-head.
"Wakka." Yuna stifled a small laugh. "He's an officer of the Paddraean Royal Army and a close friend of mine. When he's off duty, he has this . . . alter-ego."
Yuna looked to her cousin for support. "He's an entertainer," Rikku cheerfully added.
"An entertainer?" Vanille sought clarification.
Rikke cleared her throat and giggled. "A rapper—but he does some broadcasting as well. He's the announcer for today."
'A rapper?' Vanille mused. "What's his stage name?" the red-head chirped.
"—WASSUP, Paddra?! WAKKA FLOCKA FLAMEEEE coming to you live from inside in the Jedi Temple, ya!" the entertainer started his commentary for the citizens at home.
Amused, Vanille whispered, "Wakka Flocka Flame?"
"Wakka definitely brings life to the Court," Yuna complimented.
"Seems like it!" Vanille stated.
Vanille loved conversing with the Archprincess on informal terms. She enjoyed being with the Court as they waited for the final age division.
—15—
After Kimahri explained the rules to Lightning, he left her alone to practice. She knew there wasn't much time, so she hastily wandered to find herself some open mat.
'BB-ZSHOOOO.' She activated the weapon.
The gleaming, blue light emission and the distinct humming noises were something she admired. However, this affection faded after her first casual, practice swing.
'VVVMMMM.' The lightsaber hummed.
Damn this thing, Lightning thought.
Her steel gun-blade was streamlined and balanced. The lightsaber, on the other hand, was anything but balanced. Lightning took another upswing.
The weight in the lightsaber was at its hilt, while the blade was weightless—resulting in an irksome gyroscopic effect. Though the ex-soldier had excellent swordsmanship, this new weapon could be a barrier to her skills.
With both hands on the hilt, she swung across her body—slightly easier. Next, Lightning tomahawked the weapon.
Not as easy as it looks, thought Lightning irritably.
Ironically, the airiness of the weapon required more strength to control it. Lightning increased her efforts. En garde, slash, swing, cut. Her form still lagged.
"You're overdoing it," said a calm voice.
The ex-soldier looked for the source. A towering figure with long, rabbit-like ears drew closer. The mocha complexioned hare-woman had extremely thick, white tresses, wrapped in ponytail which ended at her waist.
"Master Kimahri told me of you." The humanoid stopped next to Lightning. "I'm Master Fran, Battlemaster and weapon's specialist of the Jedi Temple."
'C'mon, Master Fran said we can't be late!' Lightning recalled.
Lightning met the sentient's red-eyed stare. Being from Cocoon, she wasn't accustomed to seeing various humanoid species, and this hare-woman was tall—extremely tall.
"Master," the ex-soldier respectfully acknowledged. "I'm Lightning Farron."
The humanoid offered a small smile. "You're unfamiliar with my race."
Slightly embarrassed, Lightning nodded.
"I'm a Viera," the hare-woman informed. "I've come to help you with your new gift," Fran indicated to Lightning's lightsaber. "Master Kimahri has done you a great honor—we call it the Concordance of Fealty."
Lightning had a blank expression, so Fran expanded. "A sacred bond is formed by lending one's lightsaber to another."
Though she couldn't fully appreciate the seriousness of the exchange just yet, Lightning appreciatively nodded. Master Fran examined ex-soldier's athletic posture and recognized that she was a conventional sword user.
"Take your pre-strike stance," Fran requested whilst circling around to the front of Lightning.
The ex-soldier did as requested and readied the saber as she would've her gun-blade. Fran examined Lightning's set-up.
"You might have an hour to practice—at best. I don't have time to change your melee approach. I'll leave that to your impending master," Fran glanced down at Lightning. "However, I know your biggest challenge is the weightless blade. I can help—if you'd like," Fran offered patiently.
Lightning was eager to learn anything that would give her an edge. "I welcome your advice, Master," Lightning replied.
The Viera master folded her arms behind her back. "Your stance implies your former weapon was weighted. You likely favor one-handed attacks?"
The ex-soldier nodded.
"The lightsaber's blade is weightless, so you're swinging harder to compensate. One-handed strikers tire quickly with a lightsaber. I suggest using more two-handed strikes—distribute the effort equally and conserve energy."
That'll be a challenge, Lightning thought.
"Strike me," Fran commanded as she pulled out her saber and activated it.
The Viera master's blade emission was a mesmerizing shade of black with streams of silver outlining its core. With her feet squared and her darksaber extended vertically outwards, Fran instructed, "Two-hands—strike me."
Lightning nodded and then struck Fran's saber with a quick, horizontal swipe—a beautiful 'KSHHHHH' sound resulted.
"Woah," Lightning murmured.
With their sabers still connected, Fran informed, "Lightsabers have a repelling component—you'll learn of it later. When we clash, the repelling forces make the blades appear solid."
Lightning nodded and pulled her lightsaber back.
"Try grazing your arm," Fran instructed. "The stronger the swing, the faster and easier the lightsaber cuts."
'Strike myself? Tch . . . I've endured enough wounds as a soldier to know what pain feels like,' Lightning thought.
Fran sensed Lightning's reluctance. "A burn from a lightsaber differs from a cut by a sword. Trust that."
With a swift flick of her wrist, Lightning struck herself. It was more painful than she anticipated—her gray tunic sleeve was seared now, and a small, yet grotesque, welted burn adorned her exposed skin.
"It takes meditation . . . but you'll learn to neglect the pain," said the Viera master. "Thankfully, our lightsabers are set to 'training' when we spar. Otherwise, you would've just severed your arm."
Lightning looked up at Master Fran to continue. "Have you noticed," Fran deactivated her light emission, "the blade is round? It hasn't an edge like your former sword. Yet it is a lightsaber—which means it's nothing but edge. Not one part of the blade doesn't cut."
"Wielding a lightsaber is no less than wielding an extension of self," Fran insisted. "Follow your instincts."
"Thank you, Master Fran." Lightning was eager to get back to practicing. "I'll keep that in mind."
With that, the Viera master said, "May the Force be with you," and left.
For the next hour, Lightning did her best to get familiar with the weapon.
The blade hummed as she twirled it once, twice, three times—slash, cut, 'VVVMMMM,' slash, cut, 'VMM,' slash, cut, 'VVVMMMM,' jab.
She wanted her gun-blade—not this . . . this stupid, oversized flashlight.
The ex-soldier's thoughts wandered to Vanille. 'I wonder what she's doing,' Lightning pondered. 'VVVMMM.' The couple was in an unfamiliar place—unfamiliar faces and customs. 'What if Serah was wrong? What if we shouldn't have come here? What if we're just wasting time?' Lightning thought distastefully. 'VVMM, I should've . . . I should've just . . . VVAMM, VHMM, VVVVMMMM.'
Lightning could feel her stomach knotting. 'VVVMMMM, The Chosen One—I don't care. I don't care about any of this. All I want, VVVVMMM, is Serah back, VVMMM.' Every moment, the twirls of the lightsaber grew less and less precise.
She accidently burned herself, attempting a flashy gyration of the lightsaber.
'Fuck!' Lightning grimaced at her searing flesh. She glanced around to make sure no one noticed. The intense concentration of the Jedi Initiates could not be distracted.
But Master Fran had kept a close watch on Lightning, and before the ex-soldier could launch another double-handed swing, the Viera master used Force Grip to pause the motion.
Lightning caught sight of Master Fran coming towards her. The ex-soldier relaxed, and Fran released her Force Grip on the saber. Lightning returned the hilt to her side and attempted to catch her breath, but the Viera master was already in her presence.
"You're thinking too much," Fran sharply reprimanded.
For reasons uncertain, Master Fran's presence inspired memories of Sargent-Major Amodar—Lieutenant Amodar in her days of basic training. Lightning looked down at her boots and accepted the criticism.
"Fret not." Fran's face softened. "Nothing is learned in the absence of failure."
Lightning looked back up at the Viera. "Anxiety is only natural when you're in a strange place. I do not agree with the High Council putting you in this. I have no doubt you were exceptional with a sword, but properly wielding a lightsaber is a mark of someone a cut above ordinary."
Lightning remained silent as the Viera master's hand reached out to her shoulder. Fran closed her eyes and inhaled deeply—as if she were meditating.
"Look around," Fran instructed, still deep in concentration. "What do you see?"
"Discipline," Lightning answered as she observed the Jedi Initiates' focused actions.
"What you see," Fran opened her lids and removed her hand from Lightning's shoulder, "is a room of those aiming for the extraordinary."
Earning Lightning's respect is no small accomplishment, but Master Fran had done it—in record time. The ex-soldier's grumpiness vanished. Could it be, the Viera master's touch summoned her body to peace? A will of the Force?
At that moment, Lightning realized—she knew very little of her powers. Clearly, there were many unique applications of the Force that she didn't know of—that she wanted to know of. Yeul's voice returned to her, 'You will need the powers of the Chosen One, if you are to save your sister.'
The Viera master Force Gripped the ex-soldier's lightsaber and made her hold it up. "Do it again," Fran urged, "but this time, don't think . . . feel."
Lightning breathed in. Breathed out. She closed her lids and continued breathing. Every negative thought, every happy thought, every stimulus, and every signal in her head was silenced.
Master Fran's senses assured her that Lightning had found the proper state of mind. This stillness sweeping over the ex-soldier wasn't so unfamiliar. The strange whispers returned and forced her to action. With her eyes closed, and her thoughts quieted, the will of the Force flowed through her.
Lightning unconsciously gyrated an impressive combination of flashy swings. 'VVVMMMM, VMM, VVVVVM.' Cut, slash, 'VVMM, VMM.' Cut, slash, 'VVMMM, VMM.'
'A fast learner . . .' Master Fran thought.
—15—
When the time came, the final age bracket took to the floor. Excitement was running high, and the crowds were eager to witness the most skilled Jedi Initiates in the Jedi Academy perform.
"Hey, Yunie, there's your mannn!" Rikku teased.
Yuna's cheeks went crimson as she fumblingly responded, "—Shhh! Rikku! Not so loud!"
Yuna composed herself and looked around to make sure no one besides Vanille heard Rikku. "And he's not 'my man'. We're friends," she snapped.
"Uh huhhh. Sure," Rikku replied sarcastically.
"If you weren't my cousin, Rikku, sometimes, I swear—" Yuna said playfully.
Rikku chuckled, "You love me, Yunie."
Yuna rolled her eyes and turned to Vanille. "Do you see Lightning?"
The red-head smiled at the mentioning of her. "Yep," she pointed down to their left, "she's over there."
On the Arena floor, Lightning examined her first opponent. She had short black hair and wore a white headband. She was very wiry and small.
Lightning went to salute the girl in the center of the battle compartment. The ex-soldier noted that the room was very confined.
The hushed crowds rumbled lowly until Auron's gravelly voice could be heard over the sound system, "Contestants, greet your adversaries."
"Yuffie," the girl greeted, bowing briefly before her unfamiliar opponent.
"Lightning," the ex-soldier mimicked Yuffie's actions.
"Fight!" Auron's voice echoed and the crowds erupted into bellicose cheers.
The time it took for Lightning to recover from the deafening noise was enough for her opponent to close the distance. The agility of the small girl was impressive— she moved with great purpose.
Lightning would wait for Yuffie to draw her lightsaber first. The ex-soldier observed closely as the ninja girl wound up with a closed fist and lunged at her jaw.
Lightning evaded the attempt, but the girl recoiled quickly. She back kicked into Lightning's stomach. The ex-soldier grunted but remained firmly in place.
"If you insist on going any further, you've got a fight on your hands!" Yuffie said cockily as she spun out of range.
Gotta' admire that energy, thought Lightning.
The ex-soldier took her fighting stance and stalked her opponent. Yuffie stepped forward, attempting to close the distance, but Lightning executed a circular step forward with her rear foot and rotated to secure a dominate strike angle.
Lightning wouldn't advance. She wanted to test the girl's mettle. Hand-to-hand combat was a bit of a forte for the ex-soldier, after all.
Yuffie threw a jab at Lightning. Like swatting a fly, Lightning used her palm and redirected the strike inward. The ex-soldier slipped aside. Using her forward momentum, Yuffie pivoted on her front foot, rotated her trunk, and swung her heel at the ex-soldier's midsection.
Lightning anticipated the kick, grabbed Yuffie's ankle, and deflected it.
I don't want to hurt her, Lightning thought.
Frustrated, Yuffie threw a fake jab. This didn't surprise Lightning, who anticipated the young girl's bluff and faded from Yuffie's follow-up overhand strike. Lightning recoiled but was unprepared for Yuffie pivoting in the opposite direction and delivering a hard, shovel hook to the ex-soldier's abdomen.
Lightning grunted, but she thought up a respectable strategy. Lightning advanced on the ninja, forcing her opponent to shuffle backwards.
Lightning continued closing the distance. In an attempt to halt the ex-soldier, Yuffie threw a snap kick. As her foot came forward, Lightning merely redirected the ninja's ankle with her lead hand and deflected Yuffie's body in such a position that provided a perfect counterstrike opportunity. The ex-soldier, however, was sold on submitting the girl and not striking her.
Knowing that Lightning was trying to back her into the wall, Yuffie attempted a desperate amount of combinations. First, an inside-leg-kick with her lead foot, but Lightning blocked it with her front shin. Then, instead of recoiling, the ninja threw a lead-hand-uppercut at Lightning's chest, but the ex-soldier swiveled her body outside of Yuffie's swing.
With her last attempt, the ninja tried a powerful overhand punch, but this time, Lightning didn't just redirect her strike— she initiated an arm drag. Lightning pulled forcefully on the ninja's dominant arm, and spun her around to secure the small girl in a rear clinch.
Yuffie had no choice but to submit to Lightning's forward movement. It all happened so quickly. The ex-soldier practically carried the ninja and put her front against the nearest wall.
Yuffie struggled as she felt Lightning's left arm barring along her shoulders. The ex-soldier maneuvered the ninja's right hand in a wrist lock . . . as gently as she could. It didn't take long for Yuffie to tap out, and Lightning promptly released her.
Meanwhile, on the observation deck, the Noble Court cheered for Lightning. She was the first winner out of 16 other matches.
The Tournament broadcaster, Wakka, excitedly announced, "We got ourselves a first winner, ya! Initiate Farron advances from a wrist-lock on Initiate Yuffie! FLOCKKAAA—"
Many of the nobles shook their heads at his enthusiasm.
"Sheesh, that was quick!" Rikku exclaimed.
"Is she always that explosive?" Yuna inquired enthusiastically.
"That was nothing . . . Lightning's usually more aggressive, but I think she was afraid to hurt her opponent," Vanille confessed.
On the Arena floor, Lightning continued inward for her second match-up. To her pleasant surprise, the battle compartment was bigger than the last one, giving her more room to do her trademark stunts if necessary.
The west barrier door opened and her second competitor walked in. He was short in build and had uniquely styled, spiky, blond hair and a large, black tribal tattoo on the left side of his face.
The boy was grinning haughtily like he just single-handedly won the War of Transgression or hit the mega jackpot at Serendipity.
Auron's coarse voice rang out from the sound system, "Contestants, greet your adversaries."
"Zell," the boy greeted, bowing briefly before the ex-soldier.
"Lightning," she mimicked his actions.
"Fight!" Auron's voice commanded.
Instantly, Zell came charging in after the signal. Lightning watched the brawler pound his fists together and throw a wild hook with his lead arm. The ex-soldier faded from Zell's strike and ducked under his follow-up right hook.
Lightning looked to secure the dominant angle, but Zell connected a shovel hook into Lightning's ribs with his left hand. The ex-soldier staggered but bounced back by swiveling her hips and pummeling her elbow into the brawler's shoulder blade.
The duelists reset themselves and circled each other. Zell rotated his afflicted arm in an attempt to loosen it. Lightning stalked his advances.
Zell shot in for a single-leg takedown. He almost managed to get a hold of Lightning's leading leg, but she athletically pummeled 2 hands on the back of his neck and slipped out of range. With Zell's momentum going forward, Lightning delivered a powerful kick to his face. The blonde brawler collapsed to his knees and covered the place of impact.
"Ahhhhh!" Zell groaned agony.
Shit, maybe I shouldn't have done that, thought Lightning.
The ex-soldier gave the grimacing brawler some space and asked, "You okay?"
Zell lifted his head and glared at Lightning. He clamored back to his feet, "The HELL, man?!" and grit his teeth. "It's payback time!"
Lightning scoffed at the brawler's frustration and resumed her striking stance. However, Zell reached to his side and pulled out his green-bladed lightsaber.
And now it comes to this, Lightning thought.
Lightning grabbed her lightsaber and activated the stud on the hilt. She watched as Zell twirled his saber and came charging in.
Once at striking distance, Zell gave a two-handed swipe at Lightning's left shoulder. Lightning met his attack with a two-handed block.
Wasting no time, Lightning vaulted over Zell's short stature and gracefully flipped into an athletic position. Before Zell could properly react, Lightning did a 180-saber-sweep at his legs—making contact.
Zell back flipped out of the area to reset himself. He limped for a moment but regained composure when he realized Lightning was charging at him. He knew she only needed to land 2 more hits.
As always, Lightning moved blindingly fast. A moment later, Zell jabbed his saber at the speeding human, but Lightning expected as much. She masterfully performed a lateral flip to the right, and whilst in transition, she slashed the blade across Zell's outstretched arm. When she landed, she immediately tumbled forward to reset herself.
Injured and embittered, Zell turned and bolted at the squatting ex-soldier. Her back was still turned. He brought the saber vertically above his head, ready to attack his opponent with an overdue strike, but Lightning was ready. She listened. She felt it. She didn't need to see him, yet she knew exactly where he was.
Just before Zell was within range, Lightning leapt, soared even, in a back flip-180 over the brawler's figure. Spectators would say this all happened so fast.
She landed with her back to Zell's, but skillfully spun around to deliver the final slash across his back.
—15—
Lightning made it to the third round. A boy entered with a prehensile, monkey-like tail and layered blond hair tied back in a short ponytail. Similar to Lightning's last 2 opponents, he was short in stature, but Lightning noticed that this opponent had 2 lightsabers clipped to his side.
Auron's gravelly voice could be heard over the sound system, "Contestants, greet your adversaries."
"Lightning," the ex-soldier greeted, bowing briefly before the boy.
"Zidane," the boy mimicked Lightning's actions.
"Fight!" Auron's voice commanded.
Zidane reached for his 2 lightsabers and activated them. His right hand held an orange saber, and his left hand, a blue saber. Lightning, too, pulled out her blue lightsaber and held the hilt in reverse. She activated it, and the blade extended behind her.
Both duelists charged at each other. Once within striking distance, Zidane launched his orange saber at Lightning's left shoulder. Lightning swiveled and blocked it. He promptly swiped his blue saber at Lightning's right leg, but she jumped and cleared the strike zone.
With both sabers held up by his right shoulder, Zidane heaved a twin-blade-slash, aiming for her left arm, but Lightning dodge-rolled to the left and lunged for an upward-diagonal-swipe at his half-turned body.
Zidane quickly rotated. He parried Lightning's attack with his orange saber and crossed his blue saber over his body to trap Lightning's saber between his two blades. Zidane reeled in the ex-soldier's blade and simultaneously executed a spinning-back-kick into Lightning's ribcage.
Having lost control of her weapon, Lightning followed the momentum of Zidane's kick and athletically tumbled out of range. Her opponent twirled his sabers and zoned in on the unarmed Lightning. Zidane stepped over Lightning's saber hilt and slowly advanced on her position.
Now in her fighting stance, she waited for her opponent to rush in. At that moment, Zidane dashed at his target, preparing to strike. Lightning vaulted and flipped over her adversary.
Whilst Lightning was airborne, Zidane tracked her maneuver slashed her right shoulder, followed through, and sliced her right oblique as well.
The adrenaline coursing in her veins masked the inflictions and compelled her to act quickly. Zidane only needed 1 more strike.
Having landed the flip, Lightning bolted across the floor. At such exceptional speeds, her opponent struggled to pursue her. She willed the Force to summon her saber. The hilt rocketed into the air and found Lightning's outstretched hand.
She swiveled around and dashed to meet Zidane halfway. With his blue saber diagonally blocking his torso, Zidane threw a saber-swipe directed for Lightning's left cheek. She ducked the strike. Synchronously, she planted her left hand on the floor and skillfully double-foot-sweeped her opponent.
With Zidane on his back, Lightning sprang up and swung her blade at his right hand, causing her opponent to lose his blue saber. The boy tried to reach up and cross his body, so he could connect his final strike to Lightning's left arm, but the ex-soldier did a lateral flip over his body and slashed the orange saber from his other hand.
Lightning towered over Zidane with her saber pointed at his chest. His red, welted hands flew up. The ex-soldier recognized her opponent's submission and swiftly deactivated her weapon.
Lightning helped Zidane to his feet as the referee validated Lightning's victory. The barrier leading to the Arena's final confrontation chamber opened, and the ex-soldier continued onwards.
—15—
Lightning strode into the finalists' chamber. It was exceptionally larger than the previous compartments. It also contained a lining of roofed columns around its rectangular structure, giving it a courtyard appearance.
Whilst waiting for the other finalists, Lightning assessed her new surroundings. She couldn't help but notice the escalating presence of the sentients inside of her.
A few minutes later, the ex-soldier ceased movement when she heard barrier doors opening. She observed as 2 people progressed to the center of the floor. One competitor was an apprehensive looking female with short, silver hair. The other opponent had disheveled, dirty blonde hair with a presumptuous smile on his face.
Lightning heard the blonde guy say, "Yo, Paine!" as both figures met at the center of the floor.
The pair briefly slapped hands before the girl monotonously replied, "Tidus, you made it. Surprise, surprise."
"Oh, don't sound so enthusiastic!" the blonde teased.
Paine rolled her eyes and snickered before asking, "So where's this new kid at?"
Tidus's eyes flickered with interest. "That's what I'm wondering. Wakka Flocka Flame's been saying that she finished first for the last 3 rounds, so where is she?"
Paine crossed her arms and huffed. "I don't know why people support Wakka's stage name . . . It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"Hey, if he likes it, I'm cool with it too!" Tidus chuckled.
Lightning was about to leave the shadows and make her presence known, but then, the final barrier door opened and a tall, slim male with a short, auburn ponytail entered. Tidus and Paine grinned at the sight of the incoming figure.
"Irvine, nice of you to show up!" Tidus joked.
"Sorry for the hold-up, guys! Almost lost that last one," Irvine casually greeted as he slapped hands with Tidus and Paine. "What's up?"
"We were about to discuss who's facing off with the new kid first," Paine replied.
"Hey, man, I'm spent," Irvine insisted whilst throwing his hands up, "Where's the hotshot at, anyway? You gonna' have a go Tidus?"
Tidus shifted his weight to his left leg and responded, "Maybe Paine should."
"—You can all have a go," came Lightning's audacious voice.
The 3 Initiates turned their attention to the source of the comment. Appearing from the shadows, between the columns, Lightning paced to their central position. The crowds roared with enthusiasm at the sight of all 4 finalists.
"Shit!" Irvine exclaimed, "Been spying on us, have you?"
"—Observing," the ex-soldier corrected.
Paine's eyes narrowed, "Challenge accepted."
"That was a mistake!" Tidus exclaimed. "This'll be quick."
"Right," Lightning scoffed, "well, let's see what you can do."
The excited crowds rumbled lowly until Auron's gruff voice came on over the sound system, "Contestants, greet your adversaries."
The ex-soldier bowed and said, "Lightning."
"Tidus."
"Paine."
"Irvine."
"Fight!" Auron's voice commanded and the crowds roared with energy.
The finalists drew their lightsabers.
"Still feeling confident, Rookie?" Irvine taunted.
Lightning's 3 opponents prowled in a circle around her. The ex-soldier waited, with the saber pommel tucked under her chin in a horizontal fashion.
"Attack me," Lightning glanced over at Irvine, "with everything you have."
Author's EndNote: Yuffie Kisaragi (FFVII), Seifer Almansy, Raijin, Zell Dincht, & Irvine Kinneas (FFVIII), Zidane Tribal (FFIX), Tidus & Wakka (FFX), Paine (FFX-2), Fran (FFXII).