Here's chapter 7! Hope you like it. It's a little longer than my other chapters but I'm sure no one will mind :P Let me know what you think at purplejubilee17@gmail.com I've got a mailing list there as well if you want to be informed whenever I publish something.
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After Earth Went Dark: Chapter 7
The trip to Clearview was not a long or particularly difficult one. As Rob had said, it took them just a little under three days. Unlike their previous traveling with Tyr, they stuck to the road instead of cutting through the woods. They encountered other travelers occasionally, many of whom were headed to the Tournament themselves.
It was difficult going from sleeping in proper beds back to roughing it under the stars, but they all knew that it was only for a few nights. The luxuries Rob had promised them in Clearview were looming in their minds.
Tyr made no attempt to discuss what had gone on between them on their last night at the hotel. Once they were back on the road in fact, he became further withdrawn and almost brooding. He was prone to disappearing into the woods for some time during the day as they walked down the road, often for hours on end. This habit had concerned them at first, particularly Rob, who had thought maybe his champion had changed his mind. Tyr always returned though, often bringing fresh game for the evening meal.
Elliot tried to get some alone time with Tyr but was mostly unsuccessful. This left him feeling confused and ignored. He wondered if Tyr was embarrassed about what they had done. After a great deal of thought he decided that Tyr just needed time. He obviously was not accustomed to opening up or being intimate with anyone.
Late in the morning of the third day they crested a ridge and there it was. Collectively they sucked in a breath as it came into view. About a half-mile out was a sprawling tent city with hundreds of people milling about. The tents were brightly colored, some with stripes, some with patterns. The bright sun and gentle breeze turned it into a rainbow ocean. Beyond the tents, just barely visible was the town of Clearview. It was unremarkable except for one large building that looked like it had been built post-flare.
In the center of the tent city however, was the most imposing structure. It was a massive circular building made mostly of stone and brick. It too looked like it was constructed after the flare hit. It had a diameter bigger than a football field and brightly colored pennants hung from the high walls. It was open at the top, but red and black striped canopies covered much of the opening. Elliot did not have to be told that this was where the Tournament would be held.
"It's enormous..." Kara sounded stunned.
Rob chuckled. "Yes, well once the Tournament became a regular occurrence, the Jackson brothers decided they needed a more permanent structure."
"It must have taken years." Tyr pointed out.
Nodding, Rob stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well the Tournament has been going on since just after the flare which was what, ten years ago now?"
"Ten and a half." Tyr corrected quietly.
"Right, so they started building it about eight years ago I'd say. Finished it up in maybe four or five."
"I thought you said there were two to four hundred entries in the Tournament." Their mother gestured down at the tent city. "There must be almost two thousand people there."
"More than that, I'd guess." Rob replied. "Champions bring their families and their friends. Spectators come from all around. Not to mention the vendors and entertainers and such."
"Wow..." Elliot shook his head in disbelief. He was certain he had never seen so many people in one place before. The thought of shoving his way through a crowd that size made him more than a little nervous.
"We need to hurry though." Rob told them, picking up his pace. "The first events are this afternoon and we've still got to get you signed up.
As they reached the sprawling mass, Elliot saw that it was full of people of all ages, men, women, children, and many elderly as well. His expectation had been a massive throng of angry fighting men. The presence of families and younger people that all seemed like they were celebrating a long-awaited holiday did a lot to ease his nerves.
Shopkeepers and vendors yelled to them as they passed through, but Rob led them onward without stopping. What had looked like an uncoordinated mess from up on the hill Elliot now saw was loosely ordered into rows of tents and booths with avenues between them. The grass all around had been trampled flat and in some places stripped altogether. Elliot imagined that when it rained it must get quite messy.
It took them a while to navigate through the labyrinth of stalls and mobs of people and make it to the base of the arena. There was a large pavilion set up against one side, and two lines of people had formed up in front of two tables underneath the pavilion. One of the lines had only a few people in it, the other stretched out of the pavilion and down one of the paths between the tents.
"Paid, and unpaid entries." Rob said, pointing to the shorter and longer lines respectively.
"What's the difference?" Kara asked.
"Fighters that are sponsored or that pay their own way have access to the Champions quarters at the Jackson's hotel, they also have first pick of the big prize events. Unpaid fighters are responsible for their own lodging and food," He indicated the mass of tents around them. "and are assigned events to participate in."
"That's kinda unfair." Elliot looked at the long line of unpaid entries.
Rob shrugged. "Maybe. That's the way the world works, unfortunately." They stepped up to the short line and soon enough the man at the table waved them forward.
"Rob!" He greeted with a grin. "Was wondering if you'd show up. Cutting it close this time, huh?"
"I wasn't sure I'd make it myself." Rob admitted. "Good to see you Jerry."
The two shook hands then the man called Jerry returned to business. "So, who have you got for us this time?"
Rob gestured at Tyr. "A real fighter, his name is Tyr." He spelled out Tyr's name for the other man.
"Tyr, huh?" Jerry took in Tyr's assortment of weapons then gave him a once-over. "Little young, isn't he?"
Elliot didn't like the way they were talking about Tyr as if he couldn't hear them; and judging by the fractionally raised eyebrow on Tyr's stone face, he was not thrilled by it either.
"Young, but he's a natural. I'll tell you Jer, I think he's got a chance at taking the whole thing."
Jerry chuckled. "Lucky for you then, right?" He scanned the complicated chart on the table in front of him. "Tell you what, we actually still have one space left in the opening duel. It's yours if you want it."
"You haven't filled the opening duel yet?" Rob asked incredulously.
"Last minute drop out." Jerry explained. "Has your kid got the nerves for it?" He looked to Tyr who stared him down coolly, unblinking.
"Oh he'll do just fine." Rob grinned and passed the entry fee over to Jerry who scribbled Tyr's name into one of the brackets.
"You better hurry up then, they'll be calling for you soon." He passed them five colored cards with a signature on them. Four of them were light blue and one was red.
Rob handed out the light blue cards to Elliot, Kara, and their mother, then handed the red one to Tyr. "These will get us seats close to the action." He explained. "And the red one is for you, to get you where you need to be." He told Tyr while leading the party to the entrance of the arena where cards were being punched. "The attendant will tell you where to go and the rules of the event will be explained to you."
The time had come so quickly, Elliot suddenly felt afraid. Tyr was about to walk into a fight that none of them knew anything about. He opened his mouth to beg Tyr not to go, but the tall warrior sensed his distress. Subtly he grabbed Elliot's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. The confident touch said more than words. Elliot knew he had to have faith in Tyr's skill. He shut his eyes tight and pushed back tears, then let go of Tyr's hand as their ways parted and they were ushered into the arena in opposite directions.
Tyr was escorted down a flight of stairs with a line of other men, presumably fighters as well. No one spoke but there was an aura of tension swirling about.
A little man stood at an intersection in the hallway, dimly lit by kerosene. As each fighter passed, he examined their card and directed them down one or the other of the split paths. Tyr handed over his red card and the man looked up at him skeptically.
"The opening duel?" He asked haughtily. "You're going into the opening duel looking like that?" The man scoffed and shook his head. "Alright, follow me. You're late." He instructed another official to take his place then brought Tyr down another winding hall.
"We'll need to hold onto your weapons of course." The man was saying. "They'll be safe until you get back. You'll get your pick of the sparring weapons in the armory but be quick about it."
They entered a large room filled with racks of weapons ranging from short swords to spears to crude clubs and axes. Tyr noticed immediately that they were all blunted at the ends.
"Alright we'll make this fast." The little man told him. "Let me get your weapons. All of them. If you are caught using an unsanctioned weapon in the opening duel, you'll be disqualified and could face further penalties."
Grudgingly, Tyr began to disarm. It was like removing layers of skin, so close were his weapons to his sense of self. The little man noticed his hesitation and tapped his foot impatiently.
"Hurry please. They've already started the opening ceremonies. You'll get them all back as soon as you're through."
Once Tyr had relieved himself of all his assorted weaponry the man collected it and stowed it in a footlocker off to the side of the room. Tyr hefted several of the weapons in the room, testing their weight. He knew that, despite being blunted, these weapons could easily do serious harm and even kill a man with a powerful hit.
"Remember that the opening duel is a show." The man said. "Do not TRY to kill. If a combatant dies during what our hosts deem to be fair combat, then so be it." He spoke as if he was reading from a book. "However, if you are determined to have used unnecessary ruthlessness or willfully damage an opponent seeking mercy, you will be disqualified and could face further penalties." He pointed to a door on the far side. "When you're ready, go through that door. When the gate opens you will step out, but the duel will not begin until it is announced. Questions?"
Tyr made his weapon selection and shook his head.
"Silent type." The man noted sarcastically. "We'll see more than a few of you come and go today." He turned on his heels. "Good luck." He remarked with little sincerity.
Tyr ignored him and threw open the door on the far side of the armory. Within was a short dark tunnel with a heavy iron gate at the end. Beyond that, was the battleground. He gripped his weapons easily and felt a familiar tingling of anticipation. This was what he knew best.
To say that Elliot was nervous would be an understatement. He had never been in a crowd like this, never been to any kind of spectator event. This alongside the fact that he was about to watch someone he cared for deeply fighting and possibly risking his life had Elliot quite on edge. Rob had explained that the weapons, although not sharp, were still dangerous.
The seating started about twelve feet above the fighting pit which had a sand floor with four large gates at each side of the wide circle. Four smaller gates were positioned between the large ones. The stands consisted of long benches made of wood. In the paid section, all the benches had a back, while the free spectators stood or sat on simple wood planks higher up and farther back.
Their seats were only two rows back from the edge of the pit. As they sat down, suddenly the arena began to darken. Elliot looked up to see the thick cloth canopies at the top of the arena slowly extending in, blocking out the sun until the pit took on a dusky appearance.
"The opening ceremonies are beginning." Rob told them.
Elliot sat next to his mother and now moved closer to her uncertainly. She put a comforting arm around him.
The small gates opened, and four ranks of people filed out. Two of the lines carried what Elliot eventually realized were drums of varying sizes, while the people in the other two lines each held what appeared to be two long simple sticks, about three feet in length. All of them were dressed strangely, wearing flowing garments with studded leather straps. Some of the men were bare chested and looked like they were glistening in the dim light.
The crowd cheered as they entered. The noise was thunderous. Elliot thought there had to be at least a thousand people in the stands.
Without any noticeable cue, the drummers began pounding out an intense and intricate rhythm. The wide heads of the drums, made of animal hides, boomed and resonated through the arena in a deep and quick tempo that set the blood pumping.
Suddenly the sticks that the other two lines were carrying caught fire at one end, seemingly all at once. They began to twirl them in time with the drums, weaving complex patterns in the air with the flaming ends of the sticks. Elliot's breath caught as they suddenly tossed them skyward. All the flaming batons arced smoothly back down and was caught by a different person, who then resumed the lightning fast dance without skipping a beat.
The drummers began to add guttural chants and primal shouts to their rhythmic pounding. Elliot watched wide-eyed as the fire dancers crossed their flaming sticks over one another and used their neighbor's flame to light the opposite end of each stick. Now holding them from the middle, each dancer whirled and tossed two batons that were alight on both ends. The crowd cheered, and Elliot found himself joining in the enthusiastic applause. He realized that he was grinning in amazement and he saw that Kara was similarly enthralled. Even their mother had a faint line of a smile on her face as she saw her children's genuine awe.
In a flurry of rhythmic noise that resembled ordered chaos, the fire dancers tossed their sticks again and again, each time catching a different one than they'd had before only to send it soaring skyward once more. The effect was stunning as arcs of flame seemed to appear over the lines of dancers. Simultaneously, the dancers all caught the flying batons and the drummers rushed to a thundering halt. As one, all of the performers let out a loud shout that echoed through the arena before dying away to complete silence.
The stands erupted with applause and cheering, and Elliot added his voice eagerly. People around them rose to their feet, whistling and clapping. The light began to get brighter and Elliot saw the canopies being slowly drawn back to bring the mid-afternoon sun into the arena once again. The performers marched in orderly lines back through the small gates they had entered from with cheers following them as they went.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" A booming voice called out. The noise of the crowd began to die away. Elliot looked toward where the voice had come from.
There was a wide platform with a low railing in the middle of the stands at one side. It had been empty before, but Elliot now saw that during the excitement of the performance, a small group of people had emerged onto it. Three men stood shoulder to shoulder on either side of the platform, blocking off access from the rest of the stands. They wore breastplates and ornate plumed helmets. Elliot recognized the look instantly as a replication of ancient warrior garb. The men had swords hung at their belts, but Elliot could see also that each one had a small pistol discretely attached behind him.
In the center of the platform, three throne-like chairs had been brought out. Two were large and ornate, and one was a little smaller. On the larger chair in the center sat a man who looked to be in his thirties, with a full head of dark brown hair and an angular face. His clothes were loose and flowing and wrapped elaborately around his body. A deep purple sash was pinned to one shoulder with a heavy-looking golden clasp. On his head was a golden laurel wreath crown.
On the smaller throne was a beautiful woman who appeared at least several years younger than the man in the center. She was dressed in a similar flowing fashion but lacked the purple sash. Her head was adorned a crown of flowers and leaves. Her garb was tastefully provocative, with one shoulder bare, and one leg protruding from under the robe. She held the hand of the man in the center comfortably.
The chair on the right of the golden-crowned man was empty. Its owner was the one who had spoken, and he stood at the center of the platform with his arms held high. He was identically dressed to the man in the center, save for his laurel crown which was silver instead of gold. This man was about ten years younger than the other, but the familial resemblance was obvious. His features were quite similar, but younger, more defined, and Elliot realized, handsome.
"The Jackson brothers." Rob told them what they had already guessed. "Adrian in front, Alexander behind him. Alexander's wife next to him."
"A bit gaudy." Elliot's mother remarked, and Rob chuckled.
"Yes, they're a bit eccentric, aren't they?"
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The man named Adrian repeated, softer this time as the crowd died away. "It is my pleasure to welcome you once again to the annual summer Tournament!"
The crowd cheered again, and Rob leaned across to whisper quietly. "Adrian puts on the show, but Alexander calls the shots, make no mistake."
Elliot eyed the silent figure seated on the center throne and could almost sense the air of authority around him.
Adrian was speaking again. "This Tournament has made our humble town what it is today, and whether you are a life-long resident or whether you have travelled from far off to be here, we give you our thanks. It is because of you that the Tournament flourishes and continues to grow with each passing year. It is you that has made this the draw for the entire state, and now, even beyond. The Tournament represents a bright future in a dark world. A future where heroes and champions can raise themselves up!" He paused dramatically to allow the crowd to cheer him on. "Watch with us now, as these champions test themselves in the most noble of conflicts. Let their deeds be shared far beyond the confines of this arena. Let their courage be a shining example to us all in these trying times. Open the gates!"
The tension that had, for Elliot been eased somewhat by the amazing opening performance now returned as strong as ever. A horn blast sounded loudly from somewhere and the four heavy iron gates began to lift upward as one. The crowd went wild as a solitary figure emerged from each entrance.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our heroes for this opening duel!" Adrian had to raise his hands for silence.
Elliot leaned in and recognized the tall lean figure of Tyr striding calmly out into the pit from the entrance on their left. He carried two axes, each one slightly bigger than the two that he regularly carried on his belt. Elliot tried to shout and get his attention, but his voice was drowned out easily.
"At the north gate, we have a returning champion and one of the crowd favorites from last summer's tournament, Brogan the Bone Crusher!" Adrian added emphasis to the man's title and then waited for the crowd to die down.
Brogan was a tall bulky man with a cascade of hair falling down his shoulders and back. He carried a massive sword in both hands that he swung overhead with a mighty roar as he was announced to thunderous applause and chants of his name.
"From the east gate, we have a newcomer, travelling all the way from the state of Virginia, Angelo Leone!"
A shorter man with a long spear emerged from the gate just in front of where Elliot sat. The crowd went wild as he twirled the spear around expertly, reminiscent of the fire dancers from the opening ceremony.
"At the south gate, we have our wild card! Hailing from parts unknown, it's Tyr!"
Elliot and his family clapped and cheered, but there was only scattered applause through the rest of the crowd. Several people could be heard booing obnoxiously. Elliot noticed that the other fighters in the pit seemed well put-together. They all had a color scheme or even an insignia on their clothing. Tyr, in his plain black tank top and cargo pants, limply holding the two axes seemed, if Elliot was honest, not very impressive.
"These are all fighters that have paid the entry fee." Rob explained when Elliot pointed this out. "They have been preparing for this for a long time and have the money to do so. We just got here. Tomorrow we'll find a suitable aesthetic for your friend."
"Last but certainly not least," Adrian continued. "From the west gate comes a hometown hero, born and raised right here in Clearview. I give you, Daniel Morris!"
On the west side directly across from Elliot was a slightly younger man carrying a wide shield in one hand and a short sword in the other. He lifted them both as the crowd erupted once more.
"At a blast from the horn, the duel will commence, and this tournament will have officially begun!" Adrian declared. "Champions! Are you ready!?"
Brogan roared an incoherent challenge at the other competitors, swinging his sword wildly.
"That's the one to watch." Rob told them with a note of concern in his voice. "That massive sword could easily break bone or even kill with a hit."
Elliot bit his lip as he watched the huge man make broad arcs with his sword to the delight of the crowd.
"Very well! Prepare yourselves!" Adrian called out, then stepped back to his waiting chair.
A few tense seconds of absolute silence dominated the arena before, without warning, a single loud blast came from the horn, followed immediately by a roar from the crowd as the champions sprang into action.
Elliot saw that Tyr was the only one that did not move when the horn sounded. He stood motionless, waiting.
The young man, Daniel looked between the two closest choices of competition, and quickly picked Tyr over Brogan. The small spearman seemed about to do the same, but the massive sword-wielding brute charged him with an angry shout.
Tyr turned slightly to face the challenger carrying a sword and shield. Daniel slowed his advance as he got closer, seeing clearly that Tyr was unafraid of him. Doubt danced in his mind as he faced down this otherwise unimposing figure. After a moment's deliberation, he raised his shield and rushed in with a battle cry.
Stepping to Daniel's left to weaken his position, Tyr caught the initial sword blow on the haft of one axe, then brought the other smashing down on the shield with a resounding crack that Elliot heard clearly. It jarred the young man and he took a step back which was ultimately his undoing.
Tyr stepped in with him and rained four lightning fast blows down on his shield from the left, then instantly repeated the patter on the right, his axes drumming into the wood and causing splinters to shoot off in all directions. Daniel gave ground quickly, but Tyr followed, walking slowly and calmly obviously unphased.
He was now slamming strikes into Daniel's shield from both directions. Tyr used the momentum of one strike to whirl his arm overhead and immediately come down with another blow in a motion that resembled a helicopter. He alternated from left to right, forcing Daniel to reposition his shield again and again.
As the young man neared the edge of the pit, he retaliated. Daniel made an attempt to strike back with his sword in a sideways slash. Tyr stepped to the right, limiting Daniel's range and parried with the haft of his axe before bringing the other one whipping around on Daniel's left side. Daniel lifted his shield to deflect, but at the last second Tyr changed his trajectory and brought the and crashing into the side of the young man's knee.
Daniel howled in pain and toppled backwards. Tyr effortlessly kicked the sword from his hand as he attempted a weak cut, then planted one axe gently at the side of his neck.
"Clearview's Champion, Daniel Morris, is eliminated at the hands of Tyr!" Adrian called out, indicating that no further aggression would be tolerated from either party.
A groan went up from the crowd, but Elliot screamed in excitement and noticed that there were some now that were applauding Tyr's performance. Tyr turned to watch the other two combatants as attendants emerged to help Daniel limp off the field.
Despite his diminutive size, the spearman Angelo was giving the Bone Crusher a hard time. He kept the larger man at bay with quick jabs at the ribs and legs and was quick enough to jump out of the way when the powerful swings began. Brogan was becoming visibly more enraged by the minute. His face was a deep red and his long hair was matted and tangled. Tyr made no move to intervene, he simply watched the two fighting for dominance.
"What's he doing?" Elliot asked, confused.
"He's smart your friend is." Rob told him. "Why fight two when you can fight just one who's tired out?"
Elliot hadn't thought of that. It did sound like something Tyr would do. Very practical. Elliot found himself rooting for Angelo. Not because he particularly cared about the spearman, but because he did not want Tyr to have to deal with Brogan.
Finally, one of the smaller man's jabs made contact with Brogan's ribs with painful force. Elliot was about to cheer but it died on his lips. The hulking man didn't flinch. Instead he brought his massive sword down on the shaft of the spear, splintering it like a toothpick. Angelo tried to jump back, but the deceptively fast reverse strike caught him on the arm with a sickening thwack.
The smaller man's cry of agony made Elliot's skin crawl. The arm was disgustingly mangled and bleeding, but Brogan took no notice and advanced, raising his sword.
"Call it! Call it!" Rob yelled, on his feet.
Angelo dropped to his knees, raising his good arm to the platform where the three figures sat.
Elliot thought he saw the one named Alexander make a subtle motion to his brother. At the last second before the finishing stroke, Adrian called out, "The champion from Virginia has been eliminated!" The crowd let out a groan of disappointment and Brogan scowled in fury. "At the hands of Brogan, the Bone Crusher."
The attendants ushered the nearly sobbing man out of the pit, but not before Elliot saw a shard of bone protruding from the man's forearm.
Brogan turned to the crowd and held his hands aloft, roaring again as they began to chant his name again. Tyr stood some thirty yards off, watching impassively. When he had finally finished gloating, the big man turned his attention to the lean figure that stared him down fearlessly.
Issuing his war cry, he charged again, muscles rejuvenated by the thrill of victory. He itched already for that feeling again. Perhaps with this one the host would not be so quick to call the match. Brogan thought this young man would look good with a broken spine.
Tyr watched him come. Plowing ahead like a train, his deadly weapon held ready to swing, but also ready to defend if need be. Mentally he formed his plan of attack.
Elliot could barely watch as the beast of a man bore down on Tyr. It was impossible to look away though. His mind kept returning to the sound the giant sword had made when it smashed into Angelo's arm. The crowd was on their feet, whipped into a frenzy and calling for blood.
Just as Brogan entered striking distance and prepared his sword for a potentially fatal cross cut, Tyr dove forward. For a man of his size, Brogan was surprisingly fast, but Tyr moved like a snake. He rolled under the sword swipe and as he came up, drummed each of his axes fiercely on the back of the man's calf.
Brogan howled in pain and rage as he fell to one knee, pivoting to face Tyr as he did so. Struggling to his feet, he tested a step on his injured leg. He winced and growled but stayed upright. Lumbering forward with a heavy limp, he advanced again, half blind with rage. He made a ferocious swipe with his sword, but Tyr danced out of the way with seemingly effortless grace. Then the backstroke came. The move that had caught Angelo unaware. It looked almost impossible to reverse such a large weapon so quickly.
Tyr had watched the previous duel however and had been waiting for just that. Instead of trying to dodge out of the way, he vaulted mightily over the powerful cross cut, and brought one of his axes crashing down on Brogan's wrist as the sword passed harmlessly underneath him.
The crowd went mad seeing the dazzling display of skill and acrobatics. Elliot screamed his admiration and excitement, trying desperately to see around the taller figures in front of him.
The blow to his wrist caused the Bone Crusher to drop his weapon as he roared in agony. Driven into a frenzy now though, he grabbed up the massive blade with one hand and tried to swing at Tyr again. The sword crashed into the sand next to him, and Tyr bashed his axe again on Brogan's injured leg. He then hopped to the side, neatly avoiding the next swing. Briefly he looked up to the hosts, who made no attempt to interfere, then brought his axe down on Brogan's other hand.
In his near crazed state, the big man swung an arm at Tyr to grab him. Tyr batted him away forcefully then, deciding it was time to end it, rang the flat side of his axe across the side of Brogan's head. With a groan of protest, the giant toppled forward and lay still.
Elliot thought that the crowd had been deafening before, but now it was unbelievable. He added his voice to the chorus enthusiastically.
"He did it!" Kara screamed. "He won!"
Rob laughed aloud and jumped up and down like a child.
"What a show!" Adrian's voice had a way of cutting through even the most raucous crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the champion of this season's opening duel... Tyr!"
The crowd erupted once again with chants of "Tyr! Tyr! Tyr!" Elliot beamed as he heard them then joined in.
"Champion Tyr, you have shown yourself to be a man not only of immense skill, but immeasurable courage. Your feats here this afternoon have set a high standard for the rest of this tournament." The crowd roared their agreement. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that we are looking forward to seeing what you can bring us in the coming weeks."
"Let's go." Rob instructed, motioning them out. "We'll meet up with him at the fighters' entrance."
Before they turned away from the pit, Elliot saw Tyr flip a simple salute with one of his axes, drawing another roar of enthusiasm from the crowd. Elliot couldn't keep the broad grin from his face as they made their way out of the arena.