Javad’s fear returned the moment he walked into the arena. But rather than paralyzing him, he treated this emotion like an unwelcome visitor. A bringer of pain. His opponent was an immense man, bald with large scars across his face and neck. He held a two-handed cleaver in his hand, but it seemed small compared to his size. Javad felt the fear and balanced it against the facts. The man’s record was nothing special. He’d lost as much as he’d won. Javad spotted a noticeable limp in the big guy’s step.

The man laughed at his size. Javad felt like his heart had stopped the moment the gong sounded. Before his own terror could stop him, Javad rushed in and drew his sword, swinging in the same motion at the looming giant. The big man didn’t even respond as the blade slashed across his arm. It cut through his leather armguard and carved deep into his forearm. A couple of seconds later, blood flowed, and the man stepped back in surprise.

Javad’s fear remained, but it was under control now. He took the offensive, striking at gaps in his opponent’s defense. He held back from a killing blow. He’d never killed a man and didn’t want to start today. But the big brute was tough, and too proud to admit defeat to a youth. The giant was dripping blood from a dozen wounds before Javad lost his temper. Blades clashed, and Javad finally forced his opponent’s weapon aside. He smashed the hilt of his sword against the back of the man’s bad knee.

He fell to his hands and knees. Javad held his sword next to the big man’s throat, and he finally asked for quarter. As was the rule, Javad accepted his defeat. The sparse crowd had been silent at Javad’s assault, and finally erupted into cheering that made up for their numbers.

The boy had trained with the orc Shora from his childhood till his youth, but only at this moment did the power of her training become real to him. It had seemed like the big man was swinging slowly on purpose, taking it easy on him. He’d thought he wasn’t being taken seriously. But he realized he was just that fast, even in his perception of the fight. The veteran fighter struck painfully slowly compared to Shora. Javad had time to consider his counters with no rush. 

This first win led to a full contract. More fights came, more ponderous opponents. Some were better at covering their lack of speed with tactics, but all were slow. Some tried to fight dirty, throwing sand, carrying concealed daggers to use as throwing weapons. Javad’s eyes were too good and his reflexes too fast to get hit by a hurled blade.

He split his life between these fights, visiting Shora for more training, and fitting in work at the Temple. Shora was disappointed when he kept coming back without new scars to show off. He couldn’t help it. They were too slow to land a hit. This was a blessing at first, but eventually poisoned his chances at greater things.

The arena master had criticized him for putting on a poor show for the spectators. Javad had considered it a mercy, defeating his opponents quickly. He was respected in his small arena, but had gotten no attention that would get him noticed by the famous arena circuit of Imperial Qismat.

He spoke to Shora about these concerns. “I’m undefeated. Almost untouched, and the arena master, Pelin, isn’t in a hurry to get me fights. It’s been almost a month!”

“You know what an arena is for, right?” she asked.

“To win. Obviously the goal of any fight.”

“This isn’t a duel. The only thing on the line is your life, and the spectator’s gold. You swing the sword too fast. Your opponents can barely see it. You describe cutting them down in a few hits. The spectators won’t be able to see at all. A rush of wind and the flow of blood. One man kneeling in the dirt. That is what a sword is for, efficient strikes.”

“So the sabre is the problem?” he asked.

“What weapons do your opponents use? What weapons do the most famous use?”

He tried to remember all his matches, and arena fights he had spectated. “Most of the new people use swords. The well-known ones have all manner of weapons. A lot of spears.”

Shora struck out with her spear. Stopping it beside his head. “A spear is quick too. And the thrusts of a spear kill. You said you don’t want to. Why? These men would kill you.”

“Like you said. The arena fight is meant to entertain. I don’t think entertainment is reason enough to kill a man. It’s enough to bring them down, better in some ways.”

“Because when they are down, they must look up to Javad.” Shora said, grinning. “The little man they loomed over now looks down on them.”

Javad laughed nervously. “I didn’t mean it like that. You make me sound petty.”

“You are a good man. But overly proud.”

“You believe pride is valuable. Don’t you?” he asked.

She thought about it. “It’s a boon as long as you aren’t so proud to watch your back. I’ve thought of a solution to your problem. Have you ever used a blunt weapon?”

He frowned. “Clubs and hammers are weapons for the big brutes. The tall ones with large frames.”

“They make a titanic crash, don’t they? The crowd hears the impact of the weapon against armor. They see the dented metal plates. The opponent is knocked aside and falling. As for your size, it still matters where you strike your opponent. You told me of your first arena fight. You knocked that big man down with the hilt of your sword. Struck him in the knee and he fell immediately. The entire crowd cheered for you that day.”

“Two-handed mauls are heavy and would slow me down. A mace is short and can be exploited. I’m good, but the reach of a spear is a problem. A sword is quick and long enough to counter them.”

“So make a mace with a long handle,” she said dismissively. “I could make you one like that in ten minutes.

“The weight of a mace becomes too much when the handle is too long. Even I would be slowed down too much. But you gave me a good idea. There is another weapon. Next time I visit, I’ll return with it.”

“You have to go already?” she asked, her disappointment clear.

“When the fights dried up, so did my money. I’ve had to work more at the temple.”

“Come back soon. I always miss you,” she said. “I don’t want the same life as my brother, Uzgar.”

Javad raised his sabre over his head. “The sooner I’m famous, the sooner our life changes.”

Shora couldn’t help but snicker at him. “Such a grand gesture for you. I can’t wait.”