When all was said and done, what mattered most was the end result. Nothing was more important than ensuring the bottom line was in her favor. Rising through the ranks of a criminal organization meant producing more profit than the next criminal. To her, this was life in its purest form. This was why she embraced an existence of villainy. Stripping away, what was to many a fabricated sense of nobility or worse, morality. The very idea of morality was a human invention designed to protect a collective. That same idea would be discarded in order to protect the collective. Natural rights were figments dreamed up from the imaginations of cowards too weak to defend what was theirs.
However, now, Talena Gablen was met with a rare conundrum. Something unexpected yet welcome even though uncertainty would cloud every action she took in response to the conundrum. An uncertainty accompanied by a subtle yet growing excitement towards things to come.
“He refused an invitation to my chambers?” Talena asked while wrapping a strand of her jet black hair around her finger.
“It was my intention to knock the arrogance out of the upstart and drag him here.” Abael explained before giving Miquel a sideways glance of blame. “However, your new business partner saw reason to restrain my intent.”
“And in what underworld has the restraint of Abael Marson ever been possible?” Talena shot back, enticing Miquel with a mischievous grin.
“Well…” Abael stuttered. “I thought it wise to allow…”
“All past tense, Abby.” Talena chuckled before springing herself up from the reclining carefree position her favorite piece of leather furniture allowed. “I want to see the man who would say no to a Lutanic pit boss.”
Forty minutes had elapsed between the time it took for Talena’s subordinates to report past events and for the pit boss herself to exit her upper level chamber. Within that time seven tournament fights had taken place simultaneously with only one still in the process of ending. Talena could see the two figures circling one another inside one of the center fighting cages. One tanned with short red hair, wearing a single piece of spandex fabric that covered his body up to his stomach then laced over his shoulders. The other wore black pants and a black shirt. He held a dark brown complexion with short, fuzzy brown hair.
The fight was coming to an end and seemed to be in the favor of the larger redhead as his upward swinging fist connected with the young challenger. Bile and perhaps a bit of blood briefly gushed from the young man’s mouth before another uppercut slammed into his nose, launching him into the air. His back crashed against the cold hard iron causing the loosely put together ring to rattle along with the excited cheers of the crowd.
Talena stopped halfway down the long winding dirt ramp which led to her chamber and leaned forward resting her arms atop a wooden rail. Perhaps her intrigue in the youth that defied her wishes was misplaced. She remained poised above the crowds with her small entourage including Abael, Miquel, and Tristina; all of them content with remaining unnoticed spectators until the end of the brawl.
Kaszbein rose to one knee exhaling deep breaths as a slippery string of bile and mucus attached to his bottom lip stretched and wavered. His glare rose to meet the second wall of muscle offered as his opponent while the redhead screamed triumphantly towards the crowd. Almost every inch of the young fighter’s body felt as if it had been pierced by a steel tipped arrow. Immeasurable pain coursed through his senses so fiercely that commands from his mind were almost drowned out amidst a sea of insanity. This, Kaszbein knew, would be the point in his life when the freedom he decided to live for would be attainable or just an adolescent dream.
“No. Not a dream.” Kaszbein said while forcing himself to rise.
“Yield, child!” The red haired warrior mockingly shouted through a grin. “Go make pies in a bakery with your mother and leave the fighting to the men!”
Kaszbein released one last deep breath of pain and uncertainty before slowly raising his eyes to meet the eyes of his opponent. The crowds slowly ceased their disappointed shouts and curses towards the young fighter, most of them amazed the small warrior was standing. A brief silence engulfed the old mining shafts known as the pit.
“No one tells me what to do.” Although low, the defiance in Kaszbein’s voice cut through the building tension like a freshly forged katana.
The red haired fighter scowled at Kaszbein then charged him, his footsteps echoing along the silence as if a giant were stomping through the pit. Kaszbein ran three steps forward then slid to a halt and began running towards the iron wall of the cage. The young challenger had made his decision; there would be no swift or cunning maneuver to end this fight. No, this time Kaszbein would meet brute force with brute force. His opponent was no longer the human fighter charging towards him. Now his entire life; past, present, and future lay in front of him and the future was sneering at him as it tried to impose its dominance over his existence. It was trying to force upon Kaszbein what it forced upon all living things; a certain structure as to how life should be. A certain order as to how one should live. One must be taught this or that and believe those things to be proper. One must stay closed inside of the box society has crafted for you and most importantly, obey the rules set in place before you existed because those who have existed longer than you demand it. No, Kaszbein wasn’t going to obey that kind of control.
He was going to beat the shit out of it.
Kaszbein’s feet connected with the cage wall and his body rose several feet from the ground. Once satisfied with his height, Kaszbein kicked off of the wall and spun himself around. The loud crack from bone snapping into several pieces echoed throughout the silent pit. The redheaded warrior wailed in pain as his head was flung backwards from the force of Kaszbein’s kick. The abrupt interruption to his forward momentum caused the muscular redhead’s feet to slip out from beneath him and when his back hit the floorboards three wooden planks split in half.
Kaszbein knew his adversary was not yet finished and began to bounce up and down with a set rhythm while keeping his fists up and ready for an attack. The redhead wasted no time after rising to his feet in a fit of rage. Instead of dodging the large man’s blow Kaszbein instead used both of his forearms combined with the weight from the forward momentum of his body to block and shove the redhead’s arm to the side. Still moving his body forward, Kaszbein spun once to the right then planted his own fist into the gut of his adversary in the exact spot where the larger man’s stomach sat. Kaszbein forced the beast of a man back with a flurry of well placed punches to other organs then drew back his right fist and shot it forward with considerable strength towards the center-bottom of his opponent’s rib cage. The larger man hunched forward, letting the air and bile being forced from his body spew out onto the floor. His eyes lost most of their fury which was replaced by pain, shock, and disbelief. Kaszbein drew his arm back once more, this time letting out his own ferocious battle cry before smashing his fist into his opponent’s chin. The red haired warrior’s mouth shut instantly nearly taking off a piece of his tongue. His jaws were slammed closed so tightly that one of his front teeth was launched from his mouth before the man’s back hit the floor for a second time. Kaszbein’s feet landed onto the floor with a small thud and he exhaled the deep intake of oxygen he took before performing the spinning uppercut.
Two hands slowly began to clap against each other as the victorious young fighter limped towards the cage door. Kaszbein gazed up towards the origin of the sound. Like the smooth talking thief who tried to persuade him into visiting the pit boss, this woman was nearly twice Kaszbein’s age yet even through the black leather garbs fit for a common bandit, the woman’s beauty was almost stunning. With eyes as black as her hair, skin that even from such a distance appeared smooth to the touch, and a fiendish smirk that somehow seemed more inviting than menacing, Kaszbein knew he was gazing up at Talena Gablen; the southern district Lutanic pit boss.
The crowd of gamblers exploded into an uproar of applause for the victorious young fighter while Talena made her way down the winding path towards the arena with Abael, Miquel, and Tristina close behind. A small contingent of guards filed into the crowd cutting out a path for the group of high ranking criminals. Talena started down the newly formed aisle with an elegant stride and stopped at the foot of the fighting cage just as Kaszbein painfully eased his way down the steps.
“My, my…” The smirk never left Talena’s face. “For a moment I was worried you were going to be a waste of time but gods be damned if you didn’t prove me wrong.”
“You planning on having your guards drag me up to your…palace?” Kaszbein challenged.
“Oh no, my dear…um,” Talena glanced at her entourage expecting one of them to supply her with the young man’s name.
None of them seemed to be in possession of the information and from the look on the young cage fighter’s face he was not in the mood to give it.
“Your ego must be halfway to the moon, young champion.” Talena said after a giggle. “A young man walks into the criminal underworld and manages to not only bring down two past tournament champions,” She took a step closer so that Kaszbein could feel her breath on his face. “But also defied the pit boss in charge of the event.” Talena turned to the crowd with her arms raised, her voice raised, and her smirk widened into a smile. “And now you have humbled that very same pit boss, pulling her out of her royal chambers and bringing her down to your level all to satisfy her curiosity.”
“Lady…” Kaszbein let a small liquid ball of blood and saliva shoot from his mouth before continuing. “There’s a river of shit and piss flowing not forty feet from where we’re standing. There really isn’t anything intriguing about a guy beating up another guy in a sewer for money.”
“Perhaps.” Talena conceded. “But without this literal shithole, those who live above ground would be enjoying a lesser quality of life than they’d prefer.”
“What do you want?” Kaszbein decided to end the pleasantries.
“Right now only to ensure that you receive the best care from my physicians and are well rested for the second day of the tournament.” Talena replied.
“Bribes won’t work. I’m not taking the place of your muscle head lackeys.” Kaszbein stated bluntly.
“Oh no…” Talena said with genuine honesty. “That is not why I initially wanted to speak with you at all. I am not looking for an employee. I am looking for another capable individual able to assist me with a task that if completed could see us all rich enough to buy our own kingdoms.”
“And you think I can help you with that?” Kaszbein wondered.
“Against the advisement of Abael and in spite of the assurances from two of my most recent associates that you would in fact not be needed,” Talena said while patting Abael’s shoulder. “I think you, my nameless champion, would be just the spice this plan of mine needs in order to succeed.”
“Right.” Kaszbein casually grasped the wooden platform that held up the iron cage walls of the arena as standing became more difficult with each passing moment. “It’s Kaszbein.”
“Ah. I love neutral names. One could imagine a ruthless warlord or a sensual lover with such a name.” Talena said with a hint of seduction.
“I’m not into older women.” Kaszbein might have smirked but his face hurt too much.
“Insolent…” Abael began but stopped at a raised hand from Talena.
“My men will escort you to my personal medical facilities back up top.” Talena offered.
“Don’t touch me.” Kaszbein warned the approaching guards.
“Let him be.” Talena said with a chuckle before walking off towards the winding path that led to her chambers.
Kaszbein followed close behind Miquel and Tristina who were at the tail end of Talena’s entourage. Each painful step felt as if his body was shouting that his pride would most likely be the death of him before any blade or arrow could claim his life. The young fighter ignored the cries of pain from his limbs as he knew all too well that enduring pain when it was bearable meant that one could endure pain when it was at its most unbearable.
Talena knew the stakes of the gamble she had set in motion. The other Lutanic leaders would not be pleased if they were ever to discover her scheme but she didn’t care. Who was to say that they or even the grand master himself wasn’t cooking up some plan to rise not only above the underworld but above the so called royalty and nobility? Wasn’t that the point of all these charades anyway? Twenty years of Talena’s life was already gone; dedicated to a criminal underworld that held no room for friends, family, or loyalty. Everyone was a potential mark and tomorrow’s betrayer. That is why the end result was all that mattered. Maybe some crime lords were content with remaining in the thralls of the underworld but not Talena. No. The bottom line for Talena Gablen was a life free of obligation. Such a life required more money than any single crime lord could hope to attain with petty cage matches or drug trades. There was no room for loyalty or honor only results. The first portion of her plan was complete with the safe and untraced arrival of Miquel and Tristina. Now the more difficult aspects of the scheme were about to unfold and although she couldn’t explain why, Talena had a strong feeling Kaszbein would become a beneficial addition to her plan. That is, if he survived the final day of the tournament.
