44. Silver Pt. 2

  Toorah was in high spirits after his duel with the young girl from Majeesha. He had won the match, and he hadn’t exhausted himself too badly. He found a quiet place in the corner of the waiting room to meditate and replenish the Qi that he had used, drawing from his inner flame and the depth of the earth.

  He thought of her pretty face and the way that she had sort of flirted with him. That was flirting, right? Technically she had just been asking if his parts worked, because that’s what you fixed by praying to Atla right? Toorah had never really worried about that too much, but now that he thought of it he did want to make certain that his bits did the thing that they were supposed to be doing, so he said a quiet prayer under his breath. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?

  “Yeah, you don’t need my attention, go bug someone else.”

  The voice was clear and distinct, a thought in his head that was not his own.

  “Atla?” he asked. “Can you hear me? Can you think thoughts to me?”

  He was met with as much silence as the space between his thoughts usually allowed his inner monologue.

  He frowned.

  Well, at least that meant that his parts probably worked. He was told that those who did need Atla’s attention distinctly felt themselves being healed. He hadn’t felt anything except a slight amount of annoyance from that thought that had been injected into his head.

  “Atla, thank you for checking. I promise I’ll stop bugging you, but I just wanted to say thank you and you are doing good work.”

  There was a slight pause.

  “Huh. Thank you. For some reason not everyone thanks me just for checking, even though it takes almost as much effort as actually fixing stuff. Here’s a tip; you won’t win the next fight with techniques,” the voice of the goddess—although it sounded more like the voice of a young boy now that he thought of it—thought into his head.

  “I thank you for your guidance,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, don’t bother me too much, but I guess I’ll add you to the list of people who can hear me,” the voice muttered.

  In his thoughts. The voice of the world-goddess muttered into his head.

  He thought about how he felt for a moment, then moved on to her advice. He closed his eyes and began re-envisioning his duels against Lusiah, the gold ranked senior that he had trained against for the last few weeks.

  He had never quite been able to beat her, but he hoped that his martial arts were skilled enough to put him at an advantage in the coming fight.

  ~~~~~

  “So I guess that Toorah can hear me too,” Atla said out of nowhere.

  “What?”

  “Oh, he just prayed to me, and I told him to stop bugging me because he didn’t need my help, then he thanked me for checking and we talked for a bit. But I could talk in his head like I do with you sometimes,” my world-son answered.

  “Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. But if you want to talk with him then there’s no reason that you can’t,” I assured him.

  “Eh,” Atla said. “Maybe if he wins the tournament. He’s kinda boring right now,” Atla admitted. “I told him not to use techniques in the next round.”

  “Why? Who is he fighting.”

  “I have no idea, I just want to see how he responds,” the little Eidolon admitted.

  I shook my head. “Well, if he can’t win with a handicap in the third round, then he’s probably not going to make it to the championship anyway.”

  “Are you worried about the bet?”

  “Why would I be?” I asked, taking a sip of Lady Di Tonilla’s tea. “It’s not my money.”

  The glare that she shot at me was worth every copper.

  ~~~~~~~

  His name was Junior, and he was going to win the silver bracket of the world-tournament. He knew it, his family knew it, the gamblers knew it. Everyone important knew it.

  Sure, the sudden addition of the Majeeshans from the Six Mountain Sect had complicated things as they had dominated the lower ranks, but in the silver ranks the differences between the young and inexperienced and the mature and the experienced began to shine.

  Not that Junior, at age thirty, was old. Not for a man who had been silver ranked from age fifteen, before the world had become a Qi ocean and such an achievement meant nothing. Still, he looked like he was half his age, so he used his boyish appearance to disarm or charm his opponents whenever he could.

  Not that he was anticipating that he’d be able to use this tactic against the next opponent.

  “His first match was primarily won utilizing the flame-whip technique,” Junior’s uncle, who was also his handler, explained. “He disabled the opponent from a distance, then rushed in for an empowered strike which knocked his opponent down and out. It was a skilled display, but I don’t believe that his opponent was very strong. In his second match he won by forfeiture. Once again he used flame whips to lure his opponent into a trap of quicksand, then won by surrender when she was unable to escape.”

  Junior nodded. So much was nothing unexpected to him, and he was already planning his counter for the opponent’s abilities. “The quicksand trick won’t work against me,” he said.

  “No, your Earthwalker Dao is strong,” his uncle agreed. “And combined with the fact that he was forced to rely heavily on his techniques for the first battle, he’ll likely still be moderately exhausted when you face him.”

  Junior grinned, then stretched and took a sip of water. “We really lucked out on the drawing of lots,” he commented. “Getting to face an opponent who had to fight twice in one day on the third round is very advantageous.”

  “Yes, but don’t let it go to your head. Everyone who is still fighting has shown some level of skill,” his uncle reminded him.”

  “I know,” Junior agreed. “I wish that I were permitted to see the battle itself.”

  The uncle frowned, then handed him a small crystal. “Don’t let the tournament officials catch you watching it,” he whispered, then he wandered out of the room.

  Junior grinned and began reviewing the fights recorded inside, planning on how he would counter each skill or strategy that he saw Toorah use.

  “What sort of name is Toorah anyway,” Junior muttered. He heard the door open and hastily hid the crystal in his robes, but it was just another one of his family’s servants.

  He relaxed and went back to cheating. It was a ridiculous rule anyway, as these crystals were becoming ubiquitous and although the contestants weren’t allowed into the stands unless they were eliminated, they were permitted to wander the city, so there was really no stopping them from doing as he was doing right now.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  With his actions firmly justified in his head, he continued to watch and develop his counter strategy to Another One . Honestly. Who names a child Another One ? Junior just shook his head.

  ~~~~~

  “It’s time,” the tournament official said, and Toorah opened his eyes. He blinked, as he’d been meditating for hours, reflecting on the lessons of his mentor, Lusiah. He stood, then stretched for a moment.

  “Is there a rush? You’re supposed to notify me twenty minutes before the duel,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, that’s what meant. Is time,” the official repeated, and Toorah realized that she only spoke his language in broken bits.

  “I see. Thank you, I’ll begin warming up,” he said, and he began to do some calisthenics.

  “Dear Atla, please watch over me during this fight and see me to victory,” he whispered under his breath.

  “Yeah I’m not that kind of god though. But if your opponent breaks your bits I’ll fix them right up again,” Atla answered.

  Toorah chuckled. Either he was going mad, or the fertility goddess that everyone was worshiping had a snarky sense of humor.

  ~~~~~

  “So here comes the boy who you bet my money on,” Di Tonilla commented as the match began. “I don’t know what it is that you saw in him, he seems perfectly average to me.”

  “He’s one of my students,” I admitted.

  She abruptly turned to me, shock on her face. “He’s a peach blossom?”

  “No, not that . A student and not a true disciple,” I said, clarifying. “But I set him on his path towards cultivation before the night the stars went out. And I might have sent him a vision that would get him out of a toxic sect that he was stuck in? I wasn’t really expecting to see him today, but I’m very proud of him.”

  “He keeps praying to me even though his parts work fine,” Atla pouted. “But now that I know that he can hear me it seems impolite not to answer.”

  “Now you know how it feels to be me when you speak in my head,” I pointed out.

  Atla turned and looked at me in perfect shock. “You think I’m annoying?”

  “No, no, I love you,” I assured him. “But you were a little bit needy before you started talking to other people too.”

  “I’m needy ?” he asked, gasping. “I’m a needy planet ?”

  “You’re getting better,” I assured him. “Oh look, the match is starting.”

  ~~~~~~~

  The judge shouted fight, and both contestants dashed forward. One of them had been ready for anything, the other was caught by surprise but the sudden deviation from his imagined and actual opponent, and so the first solid punch landed straight on his chin.

  Junior gasped and staggered back as he felt the weight of that dao. But he did not have long to recover, as Toorah was coming straight back at him with another heavy blow and he barely had time to block.

  The exchange was lightning fast, and only cultivators of the bronze or higher actually noted the blow by blow. The commentators, for there were many shouting out their opinions, all shouted about the excitement that was occurring within their ring, as usually the silver combatants only resulted to physical attacks once they ran out of techniques.

  Junior frowned, wondering how his perfect plan could have gone wrong.

  Toorah grinned. The goddess had given good advice after all, he thought, as he had taken the initiative of the fight and put the opponent on the backfoot. He would win this, and move on to the next round. He would--

  “Hey Toorah, I was thinking. Since you can hear me—”

  Atla’s voice whispered in his head, a thought that overpowered his own inner monologue and distracted him just enough to miss one of the opponent’s tells. He took a punch straight to the jaw that rung his bell, and he staggered just long enough for the opponent to kick in him in the bits.

  “Ooh I bet that hurts. Don’t worry, I think you’re just bruised. So anyway, as I was saying—”

  Toorah gasped and staggered as his form fell apart. The opponent continued to strike blow after blow, wracking up points, but more importantly he was actually hurting Toorah despite possessing the body of a silver-path cultivator. Toorah frowned deeper, and he tried to ignore the pain and return himself to a fighting stance but--

  “--And I don’t really think I’m needy, but Father says I used to be and he’s really busy now. I didn’t realize that when I was younger, but I think maybe—”

  A kick to the side of the head and Atla was flung across the ring. He landed badly, and just lay there as the goddess with a boy’s voice continued to speak with him about things he didn’t understand.

  “So what do you say? Do you want to help me?”

  “Uh huh, sure Atla,” he muttered, thinking that he must be going mad.

  “That’s great! Hold on, lemme tell everyone,” Atla’s voice said.

  “Can you stand?” the judge asked Toorah.

  “What’s the score?” he inquired.

  “Eighteen to two,” the judge admitted.

  “I forfeit,” Toorah said, sighing. He was embarrassed to have put up such a poor showing, but it wasn’t really his fault that a goddess had suddenly gotten chatty with him.

  “As you wish,” the judge said, and he announced the boy’s decision. His opponent came over to help him up, as was customary in such situations, and the old man in a young man’s body grinned at him.

  “You had me worried that I had been preparing for the wrong fight for a moment,” Junior admitted. “But I—”

  “Behold!” A booming female voice shouted, and Toorah was engulfed in golden light. “I am the goddess of fertility that blesses this world, and I designate this young man, Toorah, seventh son of his mother and thirteenth son of his father, as my head priest! Let him spread forth my religion to this world and let everyone who desires the warmth of parenthood worship at my temple, and stop bugging little Atla all the time because he was just being kind when he healed that one girl, but now he’s a little overwhelmed and had to come to me for help. My name is not Atla, it is Matla.”

  As the god spoke, the audience was overcome with a profound sense of awe and wonder at the beautiful woman who was literally larger than life, being nineteen feet tall, with bare breasts that were swollen with milk and a belly that was round with child, but still looked suspiciously like Taimei.

  Her image was broadcast all around the world via the stones that Little Bug had imported from Majeesha, and for just a moment Toorah had forgotten about that. Then he remembered and felt a little mortified.

  Then he felt utter terror.

  “Wait, what? Why me?” he demanded.

  “Because, my child, you hear my voice,” the diety answered. “And because you were one of the few who thanked me for my blessing when you did not need my miracle, for you were born with it already and do not recall receiving it. All of you should be thanking me for working bits, not just the Majeeshans who need fixing. And I’m sorry for the ones who slipped through the cracks before Atla was born and I woke up. My only excuse was that I was held in chains and the Worldfather set me free! Now goodbye.”

  And just like that the visitation was over.

  For a moment, across the globe, there was profound silence as everyone who had just witnessed a divine visitation processed what had been happen.

  Then the shouting started.

  Meanwhile, Toorah’s takeaway was much simpler.

  “I knew that he wasn’t just helping her with a sore back,” he muttered to himself, remembering a forgotten childhood memory of him walking in on his father doing something he hadn’t understood at the time with one of the neighbors. “So that means Ulaila is probably my sister….who else?”

  ?