Desert Company: Retrospective

An unwavering silence swept throughout the stadium as the two fighters stood still. Cautious of each other, it was as if an honored duel was taking place. The wind brushed against Kwazhak’s hair, flapping in the air.

“Relax Mr. Laoyuang, I’m not like Niktar over there,” Ki sighed, as Kwazhak lowered his guard.

“So thou art willing to compromise to investigate?” He responded nonchalantly.

“Yes, unfortunately. You and Suruj’s plans will guarantee your intended goals, but it will be at the price of our lives.”

“If one had a better scheme, then my, it would be better to share it,” They walked towards each other. “Let us examine the arena at hand.”

The two of them strolled around, while the crowd booed them and the commentator was confused. The dome above them seemed to be a saharic barrier constantly applied at a certain rate, which protected the audience from any outpouring of spells. Incoherently, it worked to prevent the fighters from escaping.

“What does one think of the possibility to break the spherical barrier above us?”

“Naturally, I suppose it’s meant to withstand all sorts of spells, no matter how powerful it is,” Ki was calm, thinking. “It would require a lot of force to shatter it.”

“I see. I believe Suruj is capable of it, being that his sahar level and saharic mastery rivals that of anyone else,” Kwazhak added, raising his hand above.

“Surely. But it would be difficult to reach given the height.”

“That also must be taken into account, but using sahar could boost a jump,” Kwazhak explained, “Given the correct environment, one should be able to jump and crack the dome just by punching it.”

He stopped moving for a second and stopped. “Thou art wiser than one gives, Ki Lanu.”

“You jest. I’m just a Bangkaño.”

“I’m not mistaken. Al-Wa picks the cream of the crop when it comes to finding candidates. It doesn’t matter what thy status was in thy former life,” Kwazhak reasoned because he had gone through the files with L in the past.

“It does matter, for us boat people we never received any type of formal education. Bangkaños only sail the coasts, bartering and trading, and that is our life,” He defended his statement. The boat people were miscegenous Khoitan of the lowest social class, residing in port cities and the waters of the Bay of Tig and Tsaghkuk Fjord in the north. Due to their constant state of poverty, intermarriage with other groups were encouraged.

“If one says so, let us continue,” Kwazhak didn’t want to press further, as to not waste any time. They had less than an hour. As they resumed their inspection, it became more apparent that the chances of escaping from the arena were hopeless. Guards on standby on both entrances, a saharic barrier meant to withstand countless spells, bound to a controlled space where sahar use was limited, it was a place fit to describe hell. But through it all, there had to be a loophole through all of it.

“Ki, I shall borrow your wisdom. What dost thou think of the KWKK?”
“I think it is a very greedy zaibatsu. They can draw pools of money from the bets alone, and then labeling the tournament as a religious event, then they have the support of the faithful.”

“Perhaps we can-”

“Laoyuang Kwazhak,” He interrupted him. “Enough with the open-ended questions. There’s something I want you to do for me.”

Kwazhak was taken aback, surprised. “What is it?”

“I want you to kill me.”

“...”

Even if in the prince’s mind, he had planned to kill him when the timer was done, he never thought that someone would want himself to be killed. A wave of emotions ran throughout his head, feeling the guilt of his thoughts.

“What for… Why art thou asking this?” Kwazhak raised his voice, while maintaining his composure.

“You and Suruj are the masterminds behind this plot. You need to live.”

“Such imprudence. Dost thou have not any dignity for thine life?” He said with a bit of conviction, as Ki faced him.

“Then do you have any dignity for mine? You’ve thought about killing me at least once, right?”

Kwazhak lowered his head at the question. He could do nothing but berate his hypocrisy in his mind.

“I had thoughts of it… but why?”

“How could a mutt of mixed ancestry; Azu, Buhang, Z̆ongren gave birth to us, the people of the water, how could we deserve a second chance? While you, Laoyuang, are of pure birth.”

“Thou art wrong. I’m not a pureblood. And thou, art not a ‘mutt’. The blood of all three, four, lineages flow through thy veins. Thou art the one that should be the most praised outcome of syncretism.”

“Royal blood of the Guizu still makes you a descendant of the House. It doesn’t matter whether you came from a concubine, or from Al-Qarakh… the Laoyuang dynasty still continues to this day, until the last descendant ascends to the azure clouds!... ”

“...”

“So with your summoned blade… Please kill me.”

Kwazhak noticed that a sword floated behind him unconsciously. It was his subconscious responding. He could hear the audience making a scene as he slowly drew the sword over his back. Even in defiance of his principles, a request was a request.

“There isn’t much time,” Ki said nervously, sweat dripping down the side of his face, “We don’t want to know what happens when they vote for a winner, right? What happens to the loser?”

Kwazhak looked at the displayed timer. Ten minutes remaining. Ki was right, although it didn’t matter in the end. Most likely, Kwazhak would win the popular vote due to his namesake, while Ki was a mere Bangkaño.

“Ki Lanu… I won’t ever forget thy youthful sagacity. It shall be a painless passing.”

“And you have my thanks, Laoyuang Kwazhak. It was a good journey for the past four months of my life.”

It wasn’t a second before his head went flying off, a clean cross-cut to the left. Blood splattered over his face and hanfu. The body dropped to the ground with a thud as the lopped head tumbled on the sand, leaving a red trail. Quietly he went to the head, stopping to close Ki’s eyes, which had been on the verge of tears. The hologram on the body’s bracelet immediately displayed its heart rate, which rapidly declined in the few minutes that felt like hours. Although he had promised a painless death, Kwazhak knew that the head would still be conscious for around ten seconds, making a brief period of suffering before they pass.

Kwazhak’s eyes twitched at the realization of his actions. It wasn’t long before he fell to the ground in shock, trying his hardest to hold his composure, sticking the sword in the ground. The timer hit zero.

 

“What would you like to drink?”

“Hot water, please.”

“Kashkomarimasyita,” The waiter bowed before walking back into the kitchen. Kwazhak was back in a café, seating himself in the elevated bar tables. His back was slumped slightly against it, his arm thrown on the table. Looking out the dim window, mind jumbled. The gray colors of the kissaten matched the mood, hence why he went there in the first place. Just as he received his drink, he saw Toya in the dusk twilight outside, her golden hair passing by the window.

“With that bracelet, you can get anything you want for free in the city,” Tsuchiya called out as he sought to sit down next to the prince. “Quite convenient.”

“...”

“Altay sake, thanks. So, Mr. Laoyuang, how was the first round? Today you’ve lost half of your group.”

“... Today is the first time, that I took someone’s life with my bare hand,” He replied softly, looking down at his clothes, which still carried Ki’s blood.

“It’s not easy to do what you did as a modern man. You have my condolences,” The spokesman watched the bartender do his job meticulously. “The council decided to cut the broadcast to this year’s tournament in fear of receiving backlash from the international community. It’s off the grid.”

“...”

“You know,” Tsuchiya sighed, downing a cup, “I’m feeding you information but no response? I could get killed for doing this.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Kwazhak touched his forehead, snapping out of his foggy state. “The fact that they stopped the screening only proves their complicity.”

“Damn straight. To think that a noble from the north comes to my level…” He slurred. It seemed that his alcohol tolerance was low.

“There’s one thing I want thee to do for me. Make the KWKK turn a blind eye to any of our suspicious activity from now on.”

“W- what? I know I said that I could help but that’s-”

“I may have restraints preventing me from wielding a weapon, however I am capable of dropping a sword straight over thy skull,” Kwazhak threatened him lightly. They straightened their backs as seriousness overshadowed.

“You amaze me, already having doubts over the man you met recently.”

“I am not doing this because I doubt you; I am doing this because you will carry it out. The Dineh Kazaàd will be abolished. The Rebellion has stirred itself worldwide, nothing can stop it from crashing into Tasdahan capital itself. It’s a battle, and thou art on the losing side of the KWKK. So we’re going to investigate that arena and tamper with it, and it shall be undisturbed by the higher ups.”

The people Kwazhak and L failed to save years before had gone through the same torture, except with a bigger number of fighters from different companies. Just how much suffering, how much did they do to save their own life? Only to die at the hands of Ayai Toya? The fact that Ayai Toya was still the defending champion means even the winner of the Major couldn’t beat her for six straight years. He wouldn’t allow that to happen. At least one of them this year must survive.