//------------------------------//
// 4: Rattled From The Revelation 
// Story: Dark Body, Light Soul (Or the Tale of the Stalfos) 
// by Garino 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 4: Rattled From The Revelation

Victory is always sweet. Sometimes, it's bittersweet, but it's still sweet. My victory was probably sweeter than Pinkie Pie's sweetest item at Sugarcube Corner. (But please don't let me taste it, I don't think I could stand it.) Not only did I win my match, but it was against a FREAKING CYCLOPS, I broke Jack's Sponsorship curse which cited that the warriors he sponsored were to lose in the first round, and I think I'm getting some respect put back into the skeletons.

"Took you long enough, Skullhead! Thought we'd never get to the 3rd match with you in the reins!"

...okay, maybe the fans simply have a bit more respect. The arena opponents? Not so much. Looking at the remaining 78 contestants (remember? Balter crossed over), I realized that I was the only skeleton, let alone Stalfos, competing in the tournament. Maybe Jack didn't get more representatives because he sponsored a skeleton? Not cool, undead asswipes. Not cool at all.

The preliminaries were boring after my match. At least, the monster matches were. They must've beefed up the beasties, because the undead that had to fight them? Most of them wound up losing the un- prefix. The notable ones that actually got through the monster prelims were Stubbs, a gryphon zombie who gutted a huge spider (thank God he got the spider, I don't think I could've handled it); Wisp, a pegasus ghost that completely dominated an ogre (think cyclops, but smaller and far more cunning); and Carmeline, a unicorn vampire who...well, the details are a bit messy, but with her around, we wouldn't have to worry about flesh golems, that's for sure.

After that came the better part of the competition: undead vs. undead. Unfortunately, we were all sent to the bunk areas where we would stay until we were called up for the next match. I used this time to think about the tournament. With 128 contestants (and I'm including the monsters), there should be 127 matches total. I just had to figure out how many of them I was gonna be in. Let's see...128/2 is 64, and I participated in that. Then it's 64/2, which comes out to 32. I'll participate in that one, too. Then divide THAT by 2, it'll be 16. From there, I did the rest in my head. I had to go through 5 more matches before I could claim I was the champion.

Now came the tough part: figuring out who my opponents would be. ...oh, no. My next opponent was the chupacabra that tore Balter a new one. Did I mention I really need to keep my brain from taunting the lady? If I won against him, I assumed that Wisp would come out on top against the manticore. Then the 16 bracket will probably have me up against the...big, glob of darkness. There's no other way to describe it. Seriously, it simply glared at the Diamond Dog it was fighting, and he simply disappeared. I mean "poof!" vanished. The 8, as I was told, would have to be held tomorrow since there were so many battles today alone.

Although we were forbidden from watching the rest of the matches, we were at least allowed to go outside and chat with fans/sponsors/family/etc. I cracked my bones (which showed that you don't need muscles for it, ha!) and walked into the courtyard. I expected to see Melody and Jack there, congratulating me on a well-earned victory. What I didn't expect...

...were the fans. Yes, fans of the blue-robed, yellow-hatted Stalfos (who they thought was a skeleton) who made a complete fool of himself after he felled a cyclops by poking it in the eye. Granted, the fans were small, not exceeding the 20 mark including Melody and Jack, but it's still surprising. Especially when they're wearing the same clothes as me.

"Ha! Jack knew! Jack knew skeleton break curse! Now Jack recognized!" the zombie dog bounced up and down happily until his lost left leg made him faceplant. I couldn't help but laugh at his misfortune.

Melody wrapped her hooves around my neck. Or, she would've, had she not flown right through me. I heard a sheepish chuckle as I saw her ghostly arms drape around my shoulders. "That was amazing, Mr. Fortiskay! Cyclops usually last until the quarterfinals, and you took one down in the prelims!" A roar from the small crowd agreed with her. One of them, who I recognized as the ghostly gryphon who gave me the rulesheet, approached and added, "You even knocked out all of the arena's expectations: they thought the cyclops would be using your arm as a toothpick when you were slashing at his ankles!"

I was then approached by Melody's father, Allegro. Now Allegro, like his daughter, was a ghost: a pony-ghost who just so happened to have the mark of a spool on his flank. So apparently, the dead ponies can have a cutie mark? So many questions...and no way to answer them yet.

"My daughter has told me a bit about you, Mr. Fortiskay," Allegro said. Agh, mispronouncing my last name ran in the family. "I wasn't sure what to think of a skeleton entering the tournament, since you're the first one in about 15 years. But I must say, with just one victory, you're becoming the talk of skeletons."

"Hopefully, it's a good thing," I said.

"Almost. Some are praising you for your victory, others are skeptical that you're even a skeleton. Some are even suggesting that you are..." Allegro looked left, then right, and motioned for me to come closer. I abided and leaned towards him, hand over where my ear would be. "...alive."

I tilted my head slightly. I guess being alive was a crime in an undead city? "I can assure you, I am dead as dust," I told him. "Or, undead as dust. Wait, dust isn't undead..."  Before I could mutter more nonsense, Allegro cleared his throat. And now you are wondering how a ghost, who has a clear throat in the first place, cleared a clear throat.

"You need not prove it to me," he said. "But I believe your fans over there would like assurance." He gestured to the small crowd, who stared at me intently. I rolled my right shoulder. They wanted proof, they'd get it. I removed my yellow hat, showing the crowd my skull. There was a huge gasp, followed by a bit of cheering. I'd say that I smiled, but I couldn't really change that: I'd be smiling even if I was pissed off because I couldn't change facial expressions.

After chatting with a few of the fans (mostly skeletons, but there was one vampire who enjoyed the dance), I retired back to my quarters to prepare myself for the next match. It was here that I allowed myself to rid myself of the hat and robe, so I could think properly. Although I couldn't "close my eyes" since I didn't have eyelids, I could still shut out light as if I had them. I took in a deep breath as I prepared myself.

"How are you liking Equestria so far?" a familiar voice sounded out.

I immediately let the light back in as I found myself face-to-face with the old man. He still had that outfit from when we first met. I let a growl escape from my throat. "It's better than my old life, but still not what I expected. What happened?"

"Why," the old man said, feigning shock, "I just wanted to send a nice, upstanding member of society like yourself to the land of dreams that even the most dedi-"

"You can stop right there, Olman," I interrupted. "I am NOT a 'nice, upstanding member of society' by any stretch, this is NOT the land of dreams, and may I dare ask why I'm a pile of bones and not the fire-breathing lava dragon that I believed I would be?"

The man tapped his cane against the floor. (Again, it appeared out of nowhere! How does he do that?!?) After a moment's silence, he finally spoke. "Fine. Truthfully, that pill did nothing."

My jaw literally dropped. I picked it up, put it back in place, and voiced the only word I could think of. "What."

"The pill. It did nothing. It was just black cherry Kool-Aid in a gel capsule. It didn't transport you to Equestria, I did," he said, a dark smile dancing across his face.

I crossed my arms. "So you're telling me that I actually didn't have a choice, that I was going to be transported whether or not I took that fake pill?"

"Oh, nononononononono," he wagged a finger. "Had you chosen to give it to someone else, or toss it away, I would've taken it away from them and looked for another potential player."

"Potential player? Are we playing The Game?" I asked. Oh, and you just lost.

"Well, yes and no. Yes, in the fact that everyone here is just a piece to form the world we wish to create. And no, in the fact that there will not be winners and losers. The only thing that matters is who's left to appreciate the impact they've left on Equestria and its surrounding areas."

I put my robes and hat back on. I figured they would be asking for me soon. "So what part do I play in your little game?"

The old man chuckled. He seemed to love keeping me in suspense. "That, my good knight, is for me to know and for you to work towards. And I'm afraid that's all I can tell you at this point."

He turned to the door and opened it. Instead of the arena, as I expected, it was simply space. I swear, I could see Jupiter out there. But not Uranus, because that joke's far too old.

"Hold it!" I shouted. "I'd at least like to know the name of the guy who sent me here!"

He didn't turn. He didn't stop. But before he closed the door behind him, he answered. "I have many names, Daniel Fortesque. The one you have called me, Olman, will be what you call me. We shall meet again, after the tournament." The door shut as he uttered the last word.

It immediately swung back open as a zombie in the shape of a young dragon opened the door. "Entry 72? Daniel?" I nodded. "Your match is up next. It's a monster battle against the chupacabra, so try not to lose your head."

I nodded. Grabbing my sword and shield, I made my way to the arena. First things first, I need to clear whatever problems lie in this city. Then I can focus on getting back at Olman.