Realm of Token

Jester swung in a sharp arc, nailing her opponent directly in the side of the jaw. He stumbled back several feet, rubbing his cheek with an irritated look on his face. Their feet kicked up dust and small rocks as they moved quickly, blocking and countering each other's moves.

Jumping back from a rather lousy attempt at a punch, Jester lowered herself to the ground and opened her hand, flattening her palm towards the ground. A red glow, dull at first, traversed through her wrist and into her hand, filling her palm until it was glowing brightly. Extending from her palm, a small red and black dagger with a curved blade in the shape of a J, emerged, growing from her hand until it was complete. It hovered in the air for a second, the light fading from the blade until it was no longer glowing, and the rest of the light in her palm dispersed back into her body.

She jumped to her feet, grasping the hilt of the blade as she smiled brightly. "Ha! It worked! Kurja, I told you it would work!" Jester shouted towards her sister, who was watching from a few feet away. Kurja groaned and smacked her forehead.

Jester's opponent, a tall Demi-Demon with a shaved head and a sharp scowl, growled low in his throat. "You're going down, girl," he spat, balling his hands into fists again. He was no longer grinning as he had been moments before. His confidence in winning was only slightly shattered. He could still take her. She was only a kid, after all.

Jester grinned and held out her dagger in front of her, spinning the blade on her fingers before holding it in an offensive stance. "Come at me, big guy," she said, her bright red eyes wide.

Kurja watched closely, her red eyes examining the postures and movements each combatant made. Jester was now fifteen, which meant that she needed to prepare herself for the arena. The tournament for this year's competition would take place in the spring, which was only a few months away. They had to work on her speed and hand-eye coordination as much as possible. Though she was already very fast, she was clumsy and still held her intense ability to get distracted by the simplest things, such as a bird or a butterfly fluttering past. Kurja shook her head. It would be hard, but Jester would make a fine fighter one day, especially with that new trick up her sleeve. Kurja had seen the other girls sparring with their blades, but this was different. Jester, somehow, had a special knack for learning abilities. She was years ahead of the other students in her combat classes. She could teleport, generate portals, and now apparently conjure weapons from her own raw energy.

The young Demi-Demon standing across from Jester charged forward, his fist extended to meet her face. Jester quickly moved to the side, slashing her blade across his side, drawing a line of blood with the razor sharp weapon. He growled, ignoring the wound, and swung his leg up, nailing Jester in the jaw. Her head snapped back, and she fell to the ground.

Kurja tensed, digging her nails in her arm.

Jester lay still for a second, then sprang to her feet as if rejuvenated with newfound energy. Her smile was still present on her face as she placed her hands on her hips, wagging her slim tail back and forth. "Nice move! I really felt that one! Next time, though, aim for the stomach, it really knocks the wind out of ya, ya know?"

The Demi-Demon's eye twitched, and he screamed in frustration. "You little—!" He ran at her again, his foot lifting off the ground as he swung it at her. She ducked easily, bringing her dagger up and slicing across his leg. Blood dripped from the wound as he hopped backward, gritting his teeth. Jester stepped forward and slashed several times at him, but he dodged her attacks, and managed to land a solid punch against her face. They ended up brawling on the ground, becoming a fury of kicks, punches, and swings from bladed weapons. If there was one thing Demons were good at, it was fighting. The dust swirled up around them, blocking Kurja from seeing what was happening.

"Okay, that's enough for today!" Kurja called, cupping her hands around her mouth.

The smoke cleared, and Kurja saw Jester on top of the other Demi-Demon, effortlessly holding him in a headlock with her legs locking his waist in place. Her dagger was resting against his throat, her other arm pinning his arms in place. The two looked up, and Jester grinned, releasing him from her hold. He gasped, rolling over and coughing several times. Jester jumped to her feet, skipping over to her sister with the biggest grin Kurja had ever seen. "How'd I do? Did I win?"

Kurja sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Technically, yes, you did. But remember, this is just combat practice. You're not supposed to actually injure your opponent. Save that brutality for the arena."

Jester pouted, twirling her dagger in her hand. "I don't have to apologize, do I?"

"You should!" Her opponent snapped, limping his way towards the infirmary.

"Sorry, Henri!" Jester shouted at him as he left, then turned back to Kurja with the same smile.

Kurja looked her up and down, narrowing her eyes. "How'd you learn that move? Making the dagger, I mean."

Jester shrugged, spinning the blade again. "Dunno, I just saw it in a book and wanted to try it out. It works, doesn't it? It looked super cool, right?"

"That it did. Maybe you’ll win the arena games with that move, who knows." Kurja said with a small smile. She reached up and ruffled Jester's hair.

Jester giggled, swatting her hand away. She glanced over her shoulder at the other students who sat whispering amongst themselves in the bleachers, then looked back at Kurja. "Hey, you fight tomorrow, right? In the arena?"

"Yes, I do." Kurja said, releasing a sigh. The excitement and nervousness bubbled inside her. Tomorrow, she would officially be 20 years old, meaning she would retire from the junior arena games and enter the preliminary army entrance exam. She wanted to win so badly, but she wasn't sure if she was ready. She knew she would most likely lose if she were to let her guard down. She wouldn't be able to keep her rank if she lost, and she had worked hard to get to the rank she was at. Being able to teach others how to fight and lecture them on the regulations of the arena was her biggest accomplishment thus far in her life. She knew that not only were her superiors counting on her victory, but so were her parents. Especially Jester. For some reason, Jester had put her sister on a pedestal, worshiping whatever she did as if she were a God. Part of it was because Jester was the younger sister by five years, but it was also because she looked up to her sister so much. Kurja didn't want to let her down.

"Will I get to watch?" Jester asked hopefully, following behind her sister as they exited the mock arena training area. It was a fairly small building on the other side of the village, close to where the real arena was. It was a circle building with a dirt floor and two entrances. There was no ceiling, the top exposed to the air, closely resembling the actual arena building. The mock setup was good to use for practicing and to train the students in how to use their surroundings. It was also used to teach them the basics of hand to hand combat before moving onto weapons training. Kurja had learned from her combat professor to fight using her claws, teeth, and tail, but a close friend of hers had taught her how to use a weapon as well. He had taught her that being able to use all three combat skills were valuable in the arena, as no one was allowed any timeouts or break times. While Kurja had practiced with every weapon, she found that her favorite was a staff. It was easy to handle and gave her enough leverage to attack from a distance or come in for a quick attack.

"Yes. Mother and Father will watch as well." Kurja said in response to Jester’s question.

“Awesome! I’ll make a big sign with your name on it and a bunch of flowers and bows and everything!” Jester said, spreading her arms out at her sides to show just how big the poster would be, her now classic smile spread on her face.

Kurja laughed.

The sun beat down on Kurja's back as she walked down the main dirt road of the village. It was unusually hot for this time of year, making her wish she hadn't worn a long sleeve shirt. Jester, however, did not seem bothered by the heat. Much like her carefree combat style, she wore a loose, short-sleeved top and shorts that stopped above her knees. Her now long red hair was tied in a ponytail, her horns sticking out of her head as if it were a crown. Her naturally energetic attitude seemed to be a shield of some sort to the blistering sun.

In the daytime, Bellcrest was far more lively than one would think. Demons happily trotted along the cracked sidewalk, waving hello to those that they passed. Despite how small the village was, there were quite a few shops selling different items. Many of them were blacksmiths, but there were some shops that sold clothing, food, and even weapons. Kurja's favorite shop was the small little candy shop at the end of the street. She wanted to take a stop there now, but her money was sparse and she couldn't risk spending it on junk food.

The sun shone brightly down on the dirt road, causing Kurja's shadow to be visible behind her. The sky was clear of any clouds, leaving no shade for those who traveled the streets. There wasn't a breeze that day, which left the air stale and the scent of burning coal in the air. It was no big deal, however. If an Elf were to be caught in such a climate, they would most surely die. Elves were more accustomed to the cold than the heat, which made them weak in the summer months. Meanwhile, all Demon races and sub-breeds were highly adapted to surviving in the heat. Even though they were far from the deserts of Token, the weather still remained hot for a good portion of the year. It was also far more humid than the desert section of Token. It was just another slight advantage the Demons had over the Elves.

Jester walked briskly beside her sister, her eyes tracing across the shop windows. "What's your first class again later?" she asked, glancing over at Kurja.

"Advanced combat. I'm supposed to be teaching a new technique I've developed. Then, I have lectures after that." Kurja responded. She was a combat and strategy teacher at the local school in Bellcrest, and a very respected one at that. Her students never disobeyed her rules and always arrived to class on time. She wasn’t strict or mean to them in any way. She was simply very educated in fighting that her students believed that she would test out such fighting styles on them if they didn’t behave. While this was far from true, Kurja liked the idea of her students believing she was capable of doing such a thing. 

"Woah, really? That's so cool!" Jester gushed. "Do you think you'll teach me some new moves, too?"

"It's not very effective on someone like you. Besides, you already know far more than my students do." Kurja said, looking away with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. It was beyond her that Jester was so talented at her abilities and combat. She was never the brightest nail in the drawer, but somehow, from when she was eight to fifteen, she miraculously hit a growth spurt in her brain, and quite literally flew past Kurja, combat skill wise. She still lacked basic common knowledge regarding manners and proper behavior and such, but you would be blind if you did not take into consideration her above and beyond performances in fighting.

"So? I want to learn more! It's super fun!" Jester protested.

Kurja sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine, fine. You can come to the combat room and join in on practice. But don't hurt anyone too badly this time, alright?"

"You're the best!" Jester exclaimed, throwing her arms around her sister in a hug.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Kurja replied with a smile.

The two Demons continued walking down the main street, eventually turning down a side street that led them to a smaller house on the very outskirts of the village. Kurja had someone she needed to meet to retrieve resources for her students' training practice later that day, so she was forced to make a trip out to the suburbs. It wasn't a long walk, but it was a tedious one, as there was absolutely nothing to look at or talk about. It was simply a barren dirt road with the occasional bush or tree dotting the sides.

Jester cocked her head. "Who lives here? I thought we were gonna head home for some snackies. I'm hungry."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll grab something for you soon, okay?" Kurja said. She looked up at the small, wooden shack and sighed. "Look, just wait outside until I'm done, alright? I just need to gather some faux weapons for my students."

"Why can't I come in with you?" Jester asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Because this is adult business and you don't need to have any part in it." Kurja said. She walked up to the front door and knocked. There was a sound of a crash from inside, then silence. After a few minutes, the door swung open. A tall Demon stood in the doorway, his hand placed on the edge of the door. Soot and ash covered his face and overalls, and his black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. When he saw Kurja, a large smile spread across his face, showing his pointed teeth.

"Kurja, darling! I was wondering when you would arrive!" He beamed brightly. "I made those weapons for you. I used the finest rubber I had to craft 'em." He stepped back, holding the door open. "Come in, come in! I've got them in the back."

Kurja nodded, stepping into the house. The man noticed the other Demon and frowned, tilting his head slightly. "This the sister I've heard som much about?"

Kurja looked behind her, then nodded. "Yes. This is my sister, Jester. Jester, this is the blacksmith I told you about. He makes all of the weapons for the arena."

The man smiled brightly again, extending his hand towards Jester. "My name is Zadak. Pleasure to meet you, young one."

Jester stared at him, then wiped her thumb across his cheek, staring at the smear of black now on her hand. "What's this weird stuff?"

"Jester!?" Kurja snapped. "That is not proper manners!"

Jester shrunk down, averting her gaze.

"It's fine, it's fine. It's soot, dear. I'm a blacksmith. I make weapons and armor for the arena, that's all. Speaking of armor, my helper is out back making a chest plate. Mind heading over and checking in on him. He's a bit of a flight risk." Zadak said, glancing back at Kurja.

"Sure, she'll check on him," Kurja said. She looked back at Jester, who was busy looking at the swords hanging on the porch railing. "Go on, Jester. Don't wander off and don't cause trouble. I'll only be gone a minute or so."

Jester looked back, then grinned. "Got it!" She took off around the side of the house, following the small pathway until she saw the workshop. She could hear someone cursing loudly, and she saw smoke rising from a small fire in a metal basket. She walked over, peering in. There was a man there, wearing the same type of clothes that Zadak had on. His eyes were a bright red and his white hair was short and spiked, and his skin was a deep, almost nightmarish black. Small horns sat atop his head, identical to Jester's, which meant that he was a Demi-Demon.

Jester stopped in her tracks and stared at the man and the workshop. It was a small square building, with several workstations in it. The roof was high, allowing plenty of room to move around. Several swords and shields hung on the wall, and there were multiple barrels full of blacksmith materials. It was made of a weak, cheap wood that everyone in Bellcrest seemed to find a use out of. The workshop appeared to be in the middle of a yard, with nothing to keep anyone from just walking by and stealing items, which Jester didn't see as a suitable location arrangement.

The man noticed her standing there and stared for a moment before scowling. "What are you staring at?"

Jester startled, then slowly took a step forward, her tail raised as if in apprehension. "Just checking on you. Zadak told me to."

"What, you work for him now, too?" The man grumbled, turning his attention back to his work. He was relentlessly hammering a chest plate on an anvil, sending sparks flying everywhere.

Jester shrugged. "Not really. My sister is picking up some weapons for her class." She watched him for a few moments before she began wandering around the workshop, examining the swords that hung on the wall.

The man eyed her carefully before placing his hammer down on the anvil. "Sister? The red-head who always comes here asking for weapons and crap?"

Jester looked over at him and nodded. She examined one of the swords and picked it up, holding it in front of her. It was heavier than it looked, and made her stand slightly slouched. "Yep, that's her. She's getting some pretend weapons for her students. She teaches combat classes at the school. I'm gonna take them tomorrow. I've already mastered the combat techniques she teaches, though. She says I'm a natural."

The man looked her up and down. "You sure don't look like much of a fighter to me."

Jester, having nearly dropped the sword in a rather unfavorable position, hung it back on the wall. "For you FYI, I'm super good at fighting. Ask anyone."

"I don't care enough to ask anyone." The man huffed, returning to his work.

Jester frowned and watched him continue with the hammer. She was somehow entranced by the way his arm muscles moved with each swing, and the sparks that flew out around him. The loud clang of the hammer against the metal filled her ears, and she stood motionless. The man glanced over at her again and groaned. "How long are you gonna stand there staring at me? Don't you have anything better to do."

"Nope." Jester plopped herself down on an old wooden bench, watching him closely. "I wanna watch you work."

"Whatever."

"What's your name? I'm Jester."

The man glanced over at her, then grunted. "Lenix."

"Lenix? Cool. How do you spell that?"

"Why do you need to know how to spell my name?"

"Just for funsies."

Lenix stared at her, then grumbled something under his breath and went back to work. He stopped hammering the chest plate and moved onto the next step, which involved a lot of sharpening and polishing. Jester watched as he meticulously sharpened the chest plate with a whetstone, taking his time to ensure there were no imperfections. The sparks flew from the metal, flying about as if they were dancing in the wind. The whetstone grinded against the metal, leaving marks and scratches from the friction.

"Why are you a flight risk?" Jester asked, swinging her legs back and forth.

Lenix halted in his sharpening for a split second before continuing, his tail flicking upwards slightly. "Why do you care?"

"I was just curious. Zadak said you were-"

"Zadak doesn't know shit." Lenix snapped, interrupting her. He hesitated for a few seconds, then sighed and tossed the whetstone onto the tabletop. "Zadak is just an asshole."

Jester frowned. "Why? Because he said you were a flight risk? Does it mean that you run away a lot? I used to run away lots when I was little, but it was just for funsies."

Lenix narrowed his eyes and looked at her. "Do you ever shut up?"

Jester frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of a voice interrupted her. "Hey, Jester! Come on, we're leaving!" Kurja's voice called out.

"Oh, alrighty!" Jester jumped to her feet and looked over at Lenix. "It was nice talking to you...uh...what was your name again?"

"Lenix." He responded flatly.

"Oh, right. Lenix." She waved to him, smiling widely. "Bye, Lenix! Maybe I'll see you around some time! Maybe I'll stop by after I win the tournament."

Lenix froze and whirled around to face her. "Tournament? You're participating in the tournament? When?"

Jester tapped her chin, staring up at the sky. "Hmm.....the day after my sister fights."

"When does your sister fight?"

"Hmm...tomorrow."

Lenix stared at her for several moments before turning around again, returning to his work. "Whatever."

Jester blinked, then turned and headed off to the front of the house where Kurja was waiting for her.

***

Lenix slammed the workshop door, sliding the lock into place. The sun fell down slowly behind the wall of trees, and gnats and other flying insects buzzed around freely. In this part of town, when nighttime struck, it was always the most peaceful. The people rarely stayed out past dark, as there wasn't much to do on the outskirts of town. The occasional firefly or lantern lit up the area, but for the most part, it was quiet and empty, just how Lenix liked it. The calm, the quiet, the solitude.

He sighed and sat down on a bench outside of the workshop, rubbing his hands over his face. That girl had been nothing but a thorn in his side ever since he first saw her. It was only an hour or so ago that she had come around, but for some reason, he couldn't get her high-pitched voice out of his head. Not only that, but he still couldn't process the fact that someone of her size and annoyance level was actually participating in the arena. He knew she was a Demi-Demon, but there was no way she could actually fight. No. She was too weak for that.

Lenix groaned and leaned his head back. He had spent so much time here, he was beginning to think that he would never be able to escape. The real reason he was labeled as a flight risk was pretty much self-explanatory. He hated being stuck in one place for too long. He craved adventure and excitement. He wanted to experience life on the run. He wanted to roam the lands and fight whatever stood in his way. All he wanted was to leave Bellcrest and never look back. But so far, all of his plans have been foiled, resulting in him being forced to work for Zadak for far below minimum wage. He worked from when the sun went up to when the sun went down, and repeated the cycle every day. It was his punishment for his multiple attempts at sneaking out. It was evident of the darker side of Bellcrest. Once you enter, it's impossible to leave.

Since his shift had ended for the day, he stood and shuffled over to the main house. Zadak always gave him his coins as payment, and of course they were beyond what he should earn, but he learned not to complain. It only earned him more work time. He hated Zadak. He was an asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He had forced Lenix to work for him in order to pay off his debt, but Lenix wasn't sure what debt he was supposed to be paying off. Sure, he had broken a few wagons and fences in his escape attempts, but it was highly unlikely that those repairs were expensive, because nothing in Bellcrest was expensive. It was a poor village, after all. Demons weren't overly known for being wealthy. That was reserved for the Elves.

Lenix entered the small, run down house and looked around. The kitchen was empty and the lights were off, meaning that he had already closed up for the night. He stepped further in and saw that the living room was also empty. On the coffee table was a small envelope with a sloppily written note atop it. "Left for supplies. For you, Lenix. Your payment." The handwriting was scratchy and barely readable, but it was recognizable as Zadak's. He picked up the note and tossed it into the nearby fireplace before grabbing the envelope. He tossed it in the air a few times to test the wait, and was as disappointed as he was every time he did it. There was nothing but a few coins. He grumbled and pocketed the money, then moved to the front door, letting it slam shut behind him.

He kicked small rocks and wrapper scraps as he made his way down the road towards the town. There wasn't much to do here. Even though he had been stuck in the town his entire life, he still hadn't managed to find anything interesting. Everything was boring and predictable. It was why he wanted to leave so badly. He knew that the rest of Token had to look better than Bellcrest. It just had to.

Lenix walked into the town, keeping his head down. No one seemed to notice him as he continued on his way, and for that he was grateful. It was a very quiet night, as the majority of the village had already turned in for the night. Some shops were still open, so he bought himself a small sandwich for his dinner. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to keep his hunger at bay until morning. 

Lenix was a known wanderer, which meant that he didn’t actually have his own place to live. It didn’t bother him. He liked being alone. No one could tell him what to do or how to act when he was alone. It was the greatest thing about being by himself. Zadak knew that Lenix preferred his solitude to actual social interaction. Zadak often called Lenix a 'lone wolf.' Lenix never corrected him. He wasn't much of a talker. He didn’t enjoy socializing with people. He especially didn’t like people who were overly talkative, which seemed to be everyone in this stupid town.

He stopped at a crossroads and looked both ways, unsure of where to go. He could always sleep in the local pub, but there was no guarantee that the barkeep wouldn’t throw him out the moment he entered.

Lenix sighed and made his way to the edge of town, where a small grove of trees was. It wasn't much, but it would do for the night. He stepped into the shadows and leaned against the bark of a tree, lowering himself to the ground. Releasing a heavy, relaxing sigh, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts.

He recalled the red-head who had wandered into the workshop. Her overly energetic and annoying voice played in his mind like a record, and he groaned loudly. The more he thought about her, the more he began to hate her. He hated her even more knowing that she was fighting in the arena. She was tiny and stupid and barely seemed capable of keeping herself on the ground when the wind picked up. He couldn't picture her actually holding her own against the highly trained Demon army members. She would be an embarrassment to all who watched her.

The sun finally disappeared, leaving the sky a dark blue color, spotted with stars. A few Demons still wandered the streets, making their way home from the late night shops and bars. He watched them for a few seconds, then huffed and crossed his arms, closing his eyes again. The wind blew, ruffling the leaves in the trees. The night was silent, with only the occasional bird chirp or crickets song to break the silence. Lenix felt the exhaustion wash over him, and before he knew it, he was asleep. Sleeping against a tree wasn't the most comfortable arrangement, but it was better than sleeping by the dumpsters, which was where he had slept the night before.

I think I'll watch this year's arena games, he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep. Maybe it won't be so bad. Watching that red-head get her ass handed to her might be fun. He chuckled, allowing himself to relax. His dreams were filled with visions of blood, screams, and the sight of that red-haired girl whose name he just couldn't remember being beaten to a pulp. It was his perfect dream.