Chosen by the Beasts, Claimed by the Dragon-Chapter 15: Open bracket II

— ZORYN —

The first bout starts with a gong loud enough to be heard in the next valley over.

Two fighters come out onto the sand. One is from a feline tribe, though it’s hard for me to tell which one in particular—maybe a panther of sorts—and the other is a one-horned earth-beast. The entire audience surges forward as one, our excitement palpable.

The horn sounds, and the match begins.

I can hear shouts echoing off the stone walls, and different groups are already cheering and chanting for their favorites.

Roan leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "Oooh, that cat’s fast."

I narrow my eyes and scrutinize the feline shifter. He’s definitely lithe, and I bet he’d be able to escape most people with speed alone... but the way he’s carrying himself in the fight gives away his inexperience.

"Fast doesn’t mean smart," I mutter.

Right on cue, the feline overcommits. The horned fighter ducks, slams a shoulder into his ribs, and sends the poor guy skidding across the arena.

The crowd roars.

Riven laughs low in his chest, "Good catch, Zoryn. He was too antsy."

Ashen snorts in agreement. "Dude telegraphed that move from, like, a mile away."

I glance at Ashen. He’s watching intently, his jaw tight and his eyes sharp. For once, he isn’t posturing—just analyzing. It’s an entirely different look than yesterday.

Good. I can tolerate him this way.

As I glance at the wolf, I notice something behind him.

It’s Orien!

The man is just entering the arena, a notebook and quill in hand. I look on either side of him, but as I thought, he’s alone.

"Roan, Orien’s here," I say, elbowing my friend to get his attention. "Get him to come sit with us."

Roan looks in the direction I point and grins. As instructed, he stands from his seat and waves both his arms, "ORIEN!"

Fortunately, quiet and manners aren’t really a big deal in the beastworld, so hardly anyone bats an eye at the big, burly bear-man shouting.

Orien stops in his tracks and flushes red when he spots us. He waves a hand awkwardly, but nods in understanding. The avian slips through the crowd to get to us and takes the seat on the other side of Roan.

"Hi," he greets after plopping down.

I smirk, "What’d you bring the book for?"

"Oh, I take notes while watching the sparring," Orien answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

I raise a curious brow, but Riven speaks up before I get the chance. The lion leans back in his chair, his feet propped up on the seat in front of him. "Notes? What kind of notes do you even take during a fight?"

"Age, tribe, and fighting technique," Orien answers confidently.

"What for?" I ask.

Orien looks a little embarrassed, but he answers me anyway, "I design armor, weapons, and combat aids in my free time. Taking notes like this helps me develop things that actually benefit the wielders."

"Whoa, that’s kind of badass, actually," Ashen muses. "You’re pretty cool for a nerd."

"...Thanks? I think?" Orien replies.

We all turn our attention back to the event when a battle cry echoes out. The two sparring in the pit exchange several more moves, but the feline ends up yielding—breathless but grinning. The gong sounds again, and the pair exits the arena.

The next match starts in the blink of an eye.

It’s a pair of avians this time—one is lithe and darting, while the other is heavier, with his wings partially unfurled. They clash midair in a blur of feathers and talons before crashing back to the ground, creating a colossal puff of sand.

Orien gasps softly beside Roan. "Oh— oh, that landing wasn’t clean."

Roan glances at him, "You good?"

Orien nods quickly, jotting down notes at the same time. I have no idea how he can multitask like that.

He says, "Yes! I mean— yeah, I’m fine. I just... hope they don’t hurt their wings too badly."

I can’t help but smirk. "You’re adorable."

Orien flushes instantly. "I—"

The heavier avian pins the other with a clean maneuver, and the bout ends swiftly. The victor helps the loser up, and everyone applauds the sportsmanship.

Riven stretches his arms over his head, "That one was boring."

Ashen shoots him a look. "Not every fight needs to end in blood."

"Speak for yourself," Riven replies lazily.

I grin, "Blood or not, at the very least, someone has to end up eating dirt."

Riven smirks, and Ashen’s lips twitch before he can stop it—but the next fight starts, and our attentions are taken once more.

The matches start to blur together—wolves against boarmen, serpents against lions, earth-beasts locking horns... The crowd reacts to every near miss and solid hit, sometimes cheering, sometimes groaning in sympathy.

At one point, a wolf gets flung completely out of the ring. He lands in the stands on top of some bears I recognize, who are quick to pick him up and dust him off.

Roan slaps his knee. "Did you see that throw?!"

"I could do better," I say automatically.

Riven glances askance at me. "You’ve said that like every time any of these guys does something impressive."

"I’m just being honest," I shrug.

Ashen studies me for a long moment. His voice is genuinely curious, "Are you really better than these guys?"

Riven answers for me, "It’s slander to compare her to the chumps in the open bracket. Not only is she better, but she also fights differently than most—it’s quite the spectacle."

"Oh?" I arch a brow. "You remember? Enlighten me."

"You don’t rush," he says, meeting my eyes confidently. "You wait. You bait. Definitely got a dragon’s patience—don’t know many beastmen that could be as clever as you in a fight... besides me, of course."

I lift a shoulder in a half-shrug, "Why work harder when people are willing to screw themselves over?"

Riven laughs outright at that, and Ashen just nods. "Fair," the wolf says. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

The announcer calls another match, but this one actually draws a hush.

Two veterans step into the ring—one is a wolf, and the other is a serpent. They’re scarred and older, clearly no strangers to combat, but they’ve just gotten a little too far past their prime to participate in the champion bracket.

Their movements are smooth and lethal, and the crowd watches with reverent silence as they circle one another, testing each other with feints and subtle shifts.

"This is good," Roan murmurs. "This is real."

I nod, feeling it too. A thick layer of tension and respect has settled over the entire arena.

The fight ends not with a dramatic slam, but when the wolf performs a perfectly timed lock that forces the serpent to yield.

The crowd erupts anyway.

I exhale slowly, reveling in the adrenaline and excitement in the air.

Yeah.

This is where I belong.

As the announcer calls a break in the open bracket, I lean back, finally aware of the eyes on me again. They aren’t hungry like they were yesterday; instead, they are curious and measuring. I’m sure they’ve seen my name listed on the champion’s bracket list.

Riven notices. "Everyone’s watching you now."

"Let them," I reply.

Roan bumps my shoulder gently, "You nervous?"

I shake my head. "Nah. I’m just excited." There’s a pause, then I add, "Most importantly, I’m fucking starving again. I am gonna go grab more snacks before this short intermission is over."

Four hours have already passed, and those kebabs aren’t enough to satiate me.

"Any of you want anything?" I ask as I stand up, casting a glance at each of them individually.

Roan nods vigorously, and he pats his stomach once, "Yeah, get us some pastries. I think some carbs would do me good."

"Got it," I give him a thumbs up and look between the others. "And you guys?"

"Maybe some water? It’s supposed to get hot today," Ashen says.

Riven nods, "A few satchels of beetle chips for me. I’ll pay you back later."

I wave my hand dismissively, "Nah, I’m buying. Alright, pastries, water, some beetle chips, and..." I glance at Orien in particular this time.

He looks up from his notes, realizing I’m addressing him. "Oh. Food?"

I nod.

"You all sure can eat a lot..." he mutters, completely baffled. "I don’t think I’ve seen people eat as much as you guys. It’s amazing."

I snort, "Not hungry, then?"

"Just get a little extra of whatever you’re getting," he says quietly. "I’ll have a few bites. I forget to eat if I’m left to my own devices."

I shake my head, "That’s insane. I think my body would devour itself if I didn’t eat on time every day."

Riven nods, "Same."

Roan claps in agreement, "Absolutely. It’s a good thing you live with us bears, there’s no way you’ll starve."

I chuckle. "Alright. Be back in a minute."

It is obvious that Ashen wants to ask if he can come, but he holds his tongue this time.

I’m pretty proud of him today, honestly.

I head out of the arena toward the snack stalls again, and the moment I step back onto the grass outside the arena, I’m stopped in my tracks.

A very smug, charming serpent is standing a little ways in front of me, draped in loose green robes. His piercing emerald eyes are staring directly at me, and a smirk is gracing his pointed features.

"Zoryn," he says. "What a pleasant surprise."