“Taj? Taj? Wait for me!” 

It was Clar. He was following him after the fight. Taj didn’t expect him to be allowed here. It was a private space for fighters. 

The fight was good. A rogue Healer? Unusual, but Taj had won. He would soon get the money and could finish with the debt. His last fight, Taj wanted to celebrate it. 

“Taj, wait!” Clar was still trying to grab his attention.

How was it possible? The arena staff should take him out soon. No one was ever allowed backstage; it had never happened before. How much could Clar have paid for it? 

Taj ignored the shouts and continued directly to the changing room. Then he took off his shoes, covered in blood, checked them, and had to trash them. His clothes were dirty and torn in places, but he wasn’t concerned about this. Why spend money and buy new ones? He could wash and fix them. Taj was assessing the situation. 

Clar was bold enough to follow him there. “What a fight, fuck, Taj,” he was panting. He had to run the whole way from the seats. 

Taj ignored him further, trying to suppress the growing annoyance; he truly tried to be calm. But what made him burst with anger was when he tried to organize his stuff and prepare for the shower, and then Clar tried to embrace him with force. With force. 

How stupid. He had just seen him fight. Was Clar crazy? Taj felt his fury rising.

Clar. 

The more Taj thought about it, the more it seemed like a joke. This family already used him. It was years ago, in the very early days of Crystals. It was said that Clar cooperated with cartels to limit natural energy users. Clar disagreed with the Sect, then freshly established; they had their conflict, and the innocent paid for it.

This painful embedding, disconnecting Crystal, his natural energy destroyed—it all was because of Clar. And now, what did this Clar want? To buy him? Pay him for his body? 

The money Clar had was from selling Crystals, to cartels too. It felt as if Clar was continuously screwing him over. 

How ridiculous. Infuriating. 

Clar stood at the spot where Taj had pushed him a moment before. He was clearly agitated and looked excited as well. Too excited. What was his plan? What did Clar want to do?

Why was there no one else here? Taj only now noticed that the space was strangely empty, only the two of them. 

He understood and felt a rush of rage. 

He grabbed Clar’s hand and threw him onto his knees in front of him. 

“How annoying,” Taj said. 

Clar was on his knees, visibly afraid to look up. He started breathing heavily. 

Taj concentrated on suppressing his Crystal energy, which slightly calmed him. 

“Didn’t you promise? I gave you a choice, and you chose,” Taj continued.

Clar looked at him. A tear appeared in his eye. Then he lowered his head again.

“Look, don’t touch. What is hard to understand? Aren’t you an adult? Shouldn’t you keep your promises? Or are you a spoiled kid who can’t keep your hands to yourself? Tell me, why are you here? Why are you following me? I didn’t allow you to look today. What are you doing here?” Taj asked.

Clar, very miserable, was still kneeling. He kept listening but said nothing. A few minutes earlier, Clar had been shouting loudly, but now he offered no explanation.

What Taj had wanted to achieve before, when he had gotten the idea, was to make trouble for the almighty Clar, this one’s grandfather.

Earlier, he decided that it could be enough. But now… Taj felt the anger again. 

It was his last fight to earn the money to pay the final part of his debt. Instead of feeling free, he had this Clar here… who had paid to watch him changing clothes after the fight or taking a shower?

If so…

“On your knees, follow me,” Taj said and went into the other room.