Going The Five

Wick enters the Ring and tries to go The Five...but his last opponent might end his hopes.

The rest of the day passed agonizingly slow, and all too quickly. There was no time at all to prepare, or train. With the little money he had left, he bought as much food as he could. Might as well fail on a full stomach.

Fail was dramatic; he had dreams of being the first in years to win it all, getting on the Board, traveling to the Isle with lavish attire and heavy pockets… His own heart was telling him the Elixir and ancient magic would make it easy.

Unfortunately for him he also had a brain, though he saw the last few days as poor evidence for that. No, he had watched many men (and even a few women) try to go The Five. The House had deep pockets, and fighters on retainer. Some of those guys were nearly twice his height, with a decade of experience and training.

Regrettably, he realized that his popularity was potentially costing him everything here. While never winning against renowned fighters, he had absolutely had a few fights go his way when most bets went the other. He’d thought that would just push the round-set, but now he realized the House saw him as a good chance to lose money.

The spread would be wide and deep, and any round-set even close to his ability to reach would concentrate the bets there. The crowd would know that, which meant enormous chances he would quit the moment he got there.

Which had been exactly his intent.

R5 would dappen the betting substantially, but it seemed they found that loss easier to swallow than the chance half the crowd bet on three and he won.

He kicked a loose rock across the smooth marble path. Coming back to the richer side of town, his rough appearance attracted stares, but it was ostensibly fine clothing. It helped that, while word of his rapid fall from grace no doubt ripped through the nobility like wild-fire, the guards had yet to be told and a great many recognized him.

Staring out at the bay, the distant bridge arched over water like a great guardian arm, and he took a bit of comfort in it. It would never speak, but he liked to imagine it would have greeted him like a friend, happy to have one use its lesser-known paths. He would soon pass under it in a ship without leaping from the crow’s nest, if things went his way.

Massive if.

For now he waited, as if on the edge of a massive cliff he knew he had to jump, but couldn’t yet. The water lapped the banks, a bird wheeled with a cry, and he felt himself saying goodbye. He wasn’t sure if that was hope. He didn’t think so. For Beris, he would give everything he had to win, and with Veyra that could be fatal. One way or another there would be no Wick in Trastaval tomorrow.

The moment came all at once. Gerrick didn’t bet money on him; he emphasized that. If he’d had any time, it would have been wise not to put The Five on the same day he asked for it, but then he would’ve been too late to do anything.

Nearing the Ring, though, he became confused. He had some fans, sure. Everyone loved The Five, when they happened. No mask now, could be intriguing to some. But…