The Seeker frowned in thought as she read a posting for the annual arena contests. They challenges changed slightly every year, though she doubted they would repeat last years ever again. The population was forever altered because of society’s ego.
Attention citizens:
This year, the elect has decided on 1v1 Combat. Please report to the administration for an ID scan to sign up. Your marks for the year will place you into fair combat. Winners will advance to a more difficult contestant until the best in each role is established. Final 1v1 battles will then commence with our long standing winner and champion!
Attention: 1v1 loss will lead to disqualification for the rest of the tournament.
Changes from last year: Injuries will no longer be permanent. However, for an extra fee, healers can leave battle scars or disfigurement for any competitor.
“You going to fight?”
A voice behind the Seeker startled her and she whipped around. Her short black hair flitted out and hung at her cheeks. She hoped it covered enough of her reddening face. She flickered a short, polite smile and bowed shallowly. “No, sir.”
He glanced over the posting and straightened. She tried to hide her disgust. “Why not? You afraid, Seeker?” She turned away from him and clutched her bag closer. “I thought we sent you through elite training? From Monol himself. You should be able to demolish anyone.”
She took a step back but did not commit to leaving. “It was just a simulation. It won’t compare…” She looked back. “Will you be fighting, sir?”
“Of course.” His wide smile felt grotesque. “I’ll get you a good seat. I better hear you cheering for me.”
The Seeker turned towards him and bowed again. “Of course, sir. I would be honored.”
His smile faded. “Oh, and Seeker? I would think of a damn good reason you won’t be competing. My bosses will want to know.”
Her jaw clenched as he shooed her away, impolitely dismissing her. “Of course, sir.”
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