//------------------------------//
// 74 - Not Us 
// Story: Bind on Pickup 
// by David Silver 
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Smolder situated her gear, stashing the few remaining good pieces of magic jerky in different pockets instead of an easy to slice pouch, and she looked across the waiting area. Tomás was also looking over his weapon, keeping himself limber.

They were alone, waiting in the room for someone to call them ahead for it, and after Tomás seemed satisfied with his blade, putting it away, he made his way over to Smolder. “A word, if you’d oblige?”

“I ain’t going easy on ya, if that’s what you want,” Smolder said, smirking.

“Heaven forbid,” Tomás said. “I wanted to ask if Tabitha is doing well. She has joined up with your ascent, has she not?”

“That’s right…” Smolder gave Tomás a side glance, and raised an eyebrow in a bit of a plan. “Why do you care? I thought you and the rest of her team ditched her when you finished with the tower.”

"That is cruel." He tossed something in a small locker, a gesture causing a bright rune to flare atop it, likely locking it. "We are done with the tower, this is true. You have been up there, you know it is no joke. I am not afraid to admit when my limit is reached."

He turned towards her, hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "Now, a duel against an opponent that will fight honorably? This I can manage. Win or lose, you have my respect for making it that far."

Smolder considered that, what they had faced and why. "She's serious."

"She always is." A little smile touched his face. "Good to hear her fire has not gone out. Come, let us meet, blade to blade in a clash between two warriors, hm?"

“Sure,” Smolder said, waving her claw. The door to the arena began to grind it’s way open.

“Ah, it’s time!” Tomás turned to the arena and headed out himself.

Smolder followed suit, but took a moment to wonder what exactly she was doing here. Why did she follow Tomás? She liked a good fight, but she also fought… well mostly because she was angry, or because she had to. Tomás had different ideas about what fighting was, and she wasn’t sure what, exactly.

The two of them squared off. They had collected a pretty good crowd on the way, but compared to the number of seats in the arena, it looked somewhat small. Like the fight was mostly just them.

The two of them squared off, drawing their respective weapons, and Tomás struck first, closing the gap and thrusting his rapier at Smolder. 
She danced to the side, her tail curling in an arc, but not for show. The blade at the end struck his rapier just as it was coming in, knocking it aside for the precious moment as she came in with her knives.

But he had one too, proven when he drew it in a flash, driving her back. The battle had properly begun. "The dragon's fighting," came from the witnesses, more coming in to see the event. The spectacle of seeing what was confirmed to be a true dragon locking blades with a knight starting to draw more and more of the crowd as if warming up along with the ringing steel of their flirting contacts.

They came and separated in fast motions, testing one another. "You're not awful," she allowed. She could feel he hadn't pushed 60, but it was a respectable showing.

"You're going easy on me? Shameful." He punctuated the last word with a lunge, forcing her to leap out of the way. "I want a fair fight, my friend. Come at me."

She said, “Fine,” and dove in for an attack, intending to fiercely slash her blades, when an unexpected move stopped her. Well, stopped her with a punch to the face, far inside of the blade’s range.

A followup kick pushed her away and slashed at her, stinging as it was done, but she had scored a hit. A shallow one, but a hit nonetheless.

She continued forward, striking with conviction instead of testing him, but more times than she hit him, he hit her. More times than she felt like she had the upper hand, he had the upper hand. She grit her teeth, staring him down. He was good at this, but something was wrong. She was sliced up, but was largely fine, and he was also sliced up, but his movements were becoming sluggish and he winced.

She waited for him to thrust at her, and attacked his blade with force, batting it out of his hand, and she leapt not forward, but back, charging forward, her blades glowing with heat.

Tomás scrambled at his belt, drawing a dagger with a very sizable cross guard, but too slow for Smolder’s searing strike, which crisscrossed at him spectacularly.

Tomás cried and fell to the ground, laughing to himself. “So… that resilience. Is that what you need to persist beyond the sixtieth floor?”

"One of…" She was pretty sure there was more to it than just that, but… "You do need it." She flicked each of her knives clean of the battle and thrust out an empty hand. "Good match."

"Fairly fought." He reached to accept it, and they couldn't hear each other anymore, the crowd roading in cheers and jeers, but the cheers seem to have the majority of it, celebrating the grand battle between the dragon and the human, even if the human hadn't won that day.

It was still a fight worth watching, they had seemed to decide.





Garble strode the daylit streets, having rested up. A few days without heading to the tower meant arena time. There were more people to impress.

And he seemed to already be impressing, as every once in a while the humans in the world would take notice. They’d stare, they’d whisper with each other. He beamed, his big sharp teeth being on sight for all to see. Some people would cringe, but he was pretty sure at least a few of them seemed excited.

It musta been the effect of him having that shining guildchain at the side. They knew what it meant and who it was, as he marched his way into the secret underground arena with eyes on him.

The guards at the door narrowed their eyes when he approached. “Halt.”

Garble stopped and raised an eyebrow. “Halt?” He chuckled to himself. “I’m not sure you’re… aware of who I am?” He gestured to his fancy chromatic guildchain. “Not that it should be too surprising, I’ve been coming here for a while now.”

“I’m not sure this one should be let in,” one said to the other, staring at Garble but apparently ignoring his words.

“I’m not either.”

“Alright what gives?” Garble spat. “Don’t talk past me, I’ve been in here dozens of times, what’s changed?”

“Only what we know, dragon,” one of the guards said, finally to Garble.

“Yeah.” Garble gestured to himself, speaking slowly. “I am a dragon. I have always said I am a dragon.”

“That doesn’t mean we believed you,” the guard replied. “Dragonkin and dragon are two different things.”

“Well that’s your problem not mine!” Garble shouted.

“Let him enter,” commanded a voice from inside.

The two guards shared an uncertain look, and then parted so Garble could enter, him making a rude gesture as he passed them.

"Welcome back, student. You do not return the same." There was his teacher, watching him and seated in a calm position. "A new wind blows through."


"You telling me?" Garble gestured back at the guards he had just passed. "They tried to tell me I couldn't go where I always went. Buncha jerks."

"The same in body. A new face looks upon them. The sun rises… now." He rose with the last word, his hand moving towards his blade. "I must apologize."

"What fer? I've been using your techniques." He made the motion of cutting forward. "I walk with my song, teach people the mistake of crossing me. It's working great. 70, we hit it!"

"Congratulations are in order." He brought his hands together, but no clap sounded, instead just meeting and clasping gently. "But you can no longer compete here."

“What, because we got to 70?”

“Because the humans are aware you are a true dragon.”

Garble blinked, trying to wrap his mind around it. “What.”

“This place is for the demi humans, or” the man pointed up with his finger. “For persons whom the humans who run this town do not accept.” He then pointed at Garble. “A group which no longer includes you.”

Garble furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

“They have learned of both your feat, and that you are not a ‘normal’ demihuman.” The man elaborated. “They have decided, collectively, the reason you can succeed is that, as a dragon, you are special, and do not belong in the same category as the beast tribes.”

Garble paused as the gears turned in his head. “So what?”

His teacher gave a smile, a patient one, perhaps a knowing one. "So they, rightly or not, are casting you out. You are not them. They thought you were, despite your words. Words are easy, truth, more difficult." He let out a slow deep noise, a rolling sigh from his depths. "You were rising so well, perhaps I should have known myself that a demi would not have--"

"--can that," cut in Garble. "I'm winning because I decided to, not 'because I'm a dragon'. Not that being a dragon's a bad thing." He pffted at that particular idea. "Look, demis go up the stupid tower too, don't they?"

"Not so high, not so fast," he warned, putting a hand out flat. "Not with so little training. Like a new blossom, The truth of your future, bright, We were blind to it."

“Who cares! So I did a good job going up the tower, why would that change anything with this? I don’t even like the humans.”

“If you haven’t seen, and you definitely will, they will soon like you.”

“And who cares! Liking someone because the humans had the wrong idea and have another also wrong idea about whether or not I’m gonna be chummy with them is super dumb! It’s basically letting the humans make the decision for you.”

The entire tone of the room changed at that. Garble saw his mentor’s already somewhat grim expression harden. “You know not what you say. I am not making this decision with satisfaction, the reality of this situation is simply different.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Garble growled.

"We dared to hope," he admitted, his voice taking a downturn. "We ignored your words, saw in you, ourselves. You are not us. We were wrong. You spoke the truth, and still we were deceived. This is our failing, but still, at your feet rest the consequences."

"And you think I'm going to go with that?" He threw the idea aside. "Forget that. Look." He turned away. "Right now… Gonna go think, but I'll be right back to bash some heads until people start talking sense." There was exactly one person he could think of that he needed to see at that instant.

There were things to plan.