Magistrate Vellun returned to his office in the Detrius Colony. The dire need for work loomed over him. It could wait a day and no one would cry about it, but Magistrate Vellun impulsively tied all loose ends before allowing himself to rest.
The season was all but officially over. There had been nearly nine hundred matches this season. There were only two more to be fought. The time had come to confirm who would be in these matches. Out of regard to the teams, and respect for the process of training, a two-week buffer stood before the final. Yet, Magistrate Vellun felt compelled to make the preparations that night.
The results were in, the finalists confirmed. Magistrate Vellun recorded the results in his log and totaled them. The top team was Kavorkian's, Mr. Grakkan as they were calling him, with twenty-nine wins, no losses, and one draw marring the record. Second place was Team Diamond, with twenty-eight wins, one loss, and one draw. They were cinched to be the two headlining teams at the final match. Appropriately, third and fourth place was in a tie, and their match would truly decide who claimed which spot. As an added conflict of interest, Kashen owned both teams. Known as the Future Ophidians, the team consisting of the first four gladiators Kashen had hired this season had twenty-seven wins and three losses. The Nameless team, Kashen's second set, had twenty-seven wins and one loss. Just missing a final chance to show off, alone in fifth place, was Team Red Pride, comprised of former soldiers from Solop Avagar.
Magistrate Vellun had only to send messages informing officials of the results. With that, his work would be finished for the night and he could resume in the morning. The process was interrupted by a forceful knock at the open door. "Vellun," Kashen stood in the doorway, eyes sharp behind their weariness. He looked as if he were coming into work at the top of the day.
"Kashen, your two teams will be facing off for third place. You must be excited about the match."
"Third place is hardly appropriate for The Nameless." Kashen entered and took a seat without being asked to do so.
"They fought valiantly, and I expect a great performance from them next season"
"By all rights they should be in the final, competing for first."
"They don't have the wins."
"They weren't given a full season."
"You knew the risk of entering them late."
"They did not have a chance."
"If they had defeated Team Diamond when they opposed them, they would have tipped the numbers the other way and would have battled for first."
Kashen huffed. "I've told you my feelings on that fight before, and how my team was not given the proper guidelines for the Piss-poor arena. That can be my responsibility; I won't belabor the point. But the contract for Grakkan's Union specifies that all teams will compete against all teams before the end of the official season unless a team forfeits. My team did not forfeit, it is your own scheduling that prevented them from meeting this requirement. The burden and blame are on you."
"Who didn't they fight?" Magistrate Vellun was tired, and would not look up the answer himself.
"Mr. Grakkan's. They fought the Longwalk Cherubs twice."
"I will review the regulations. But I am certain that the rules do not apply to a team that enters the season late. I am sorry. Next season, though."
"You are not the supreme authority," reminded Kashen, standing like he had sat on a catapult. "I can go over your head." He thundered out of the office. Magistrate Vellun decided to hold off sending the messages.
At home, in his favorite chair of refurbished leather, Magistrate Vellun reread the rules he had read ad naseum. He found the portion Kashen had referenced, but he was mistaken. There was a condition to the statement about teams facing all other teams: when possible. Given the late entrance of his team, and the full season everyone fought, even scheduling the Nameless Team to compete twice on a couple nights, it was not possible to give them that match. So he would tell Kashen the next day. Unable to see in detail, Magistrate Vellun closed the book, returned it to the shelf, and brought his house down into total darkness.
He fumbled with the curtains of his bed when a ghostly presence entered the room. "Magissstrate Vellun." The hissing of the voice turned his blood to ice. He could not move nor respond. It repeated, "Magissstrate Vellun."
Without the need to touch, Magistrate Vellun felt a figure move towards him, stand beside him, breathe a fetid breath on him. He started to move for the lights when a scaly hand stopped him. "That will not be necsssessssary. I can sssee jussst fine."
"Who are you?" Magistrate Vellun called out blindly, addressing the person beside him and anyone else who may be there.
"I am Master Fs'sstnn, Lord over Grakkan'sss Union."
"Wha...?" He was asking why he was in his house. What he owed the pleasure of the visit to. How he could serve him. It was surmised in the partial word.
"The Namelesssss Team wassss treated unfairly. They desssserve another match. They desssserve to fight Mr. Grakkan'sss team."
"I can't..." The grip on his arm became so tight it restricted his breathing.
"You can. You will."
Magistrate Vellun agreed to comply, though not vocally. There was an understanding between them.
Magistrate Vellun would arrange the match. There was no choice in the matter. But when and where that he could control. He chose The Piztor Arena. He set the time at a quarter to midnight, the latest a match could be held there. It was set the next day for that very night. He also chose not to advertise. Even with these conditions, there were more spectators than gladiators, but the difference between the two groups was negligible.
“Why the zorvyt are we fighting again?” asked Chrysan Vortex.
“Increase standing,” offered Kavorkian, not certain himself why the season was reopened.
“It’s late, I was up at the oitern crack of dawn. I’m a real mrell if I don’t get enough sleep.”
“You sure are,” noted Nylan. Chrysan smacked him across the back of his shaved head.
“Win and go home,” ordered Kavorkian.
A pleasant little tune of a whistle sounded. Sace showed off that the time of night did not begrudge her. She moved as if she were the morning sun, eagerly awaking the people to a new day. In likeness, she shimmered red and orange, throwing her light around like a flamethrower. She walked up to Nylan. “Poor, sick creature. How you suffer so.” She reached a glowing hand through his flesh, like one of them did not exist. She stirred and pulled out. Nylan said something in a foreign tongue that even he did not understand. He collapsed and wretched a fountain of bile that washed Sace clean. The points he was worth were Nylan’s only contribution to the fight.
Kavorkian produced a dagger from the holder on his leg. Specifically, a Naturec Dagger, which was not as powerful as movies hyped. He stabbed at Slice. Slice changed shape amid the attack. His torso became more slender, hard, and sharp, like a thick sword blade. The blade of the dagger snapped when it made contact. Kavorkian pulled the heavy Axe Blade of Wrath from his back and brought it down like a guillotine. Slice bent forward and plated his back in a giant, metal shield. The axe struck with a shout of uselessness. It was too heavy to swing again quickly, so Kavorkian let it drop.
Chrysan opened a portal that unbound a chorpion. It was like a snake with ten more legs. It scurried around, hungry and agitated. It slipped by Catdemon without a second thought before wrapping itself around the legs of Splat. The creature intrigued Splat. Additionally, the binding rings that were usually taken off for battle, giving Splat unsuppressed rage, were left on, and his curious nature overtook his ferocious one. He picked up the chorpion and dangled it like a toy.
Chrysan also brought forth a Raden Medium-Grade Pulse Shield™. This took a beating from Catdemon, stalling long enough for Chrysan to trap him in a Portal Prison. No damage was dealt from either one to the other.
Slice turned the air into an arrow; Kavorkian unwittingly walked into it. It returned to a state of a gas. Kavorkian cared little about the blood it let. After that feat, Slice looked exhausted. Kavorkian pulled a sword and went for what could have been a finishing blow. However, the fifteen-minute time limit had flown by, the ending whistle played its song, and the fight was closed. The only points awarded went to The Nameless for the defeat of Nylan.
It was an unhistorical match. Had the Nameless Team been able to pull off a quick annihilation, or injure a participant so they could not fight in the final, it might have been note-worthy. Likewise, if Kavorkian had won, he would hold the title for most wins in Grakkan's Union, but it was not to be.
With twenty-eight wins to their team, The Nameless was tied for second and third place with Team Diamond. Grakkan's Rules clearly state that such a tie requires a three-way final match. The Nameless and Mr. Grakkan's Team would face off against Team Diamond in the main event. The Future Ophidians and Team Red Pride would fight for fourth and fifth in the opener.
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