Goji glared at Satori defiantly as she pressed her weapon against his neck. As blood spilled from Goji onto the glaive, something happened that no one expected: it recoiled in horror.
The blade had a mind of its own. It was a being imbued with the will of a Red Spirit. This spirit loved Satori and delighted in the bloodshed it was honored to cause. But there was something wrong with Goji's blood. His life essence lacked the magical forces of all other Templars. It was unknown, unfamiliar, and if the blade had a sense of taste, it would have described the flavor of Goji's blood as vile. The blade wasn't certain if Goji's blood was poisonous to it, but it wasn't going to risk finding out.
The next few swings Satori attempted failed to touch Goji. The blade avoided him, bending and warping and shrinking just to keep away from the Anomaly's blood. Adapting quickly, she began striking at Goji with the glaive pole like a bo staff. She struck his joints and kept him off balance.
His adrenaline kicked in the moment he was bled, and his agility improved in the absence of the casts and bandages that held him together. He was able to swiftly dodge and duck under some of Satori's more clumsy blows.
Then, frustrated by her weapon's lack of cooperation, she struck Goji in the belly with a swing that launched him into the air. She had him. He would tumble to the ground, and before he hit, she would strike him again with enough force to send him not only out of the ring but to the walls surrounding the arena.
As she sank into her stance, holding her glaive like a club, the finishing bell rang.
All eyes went from the airborne Goji to Kyou, who had, with that single ring, declared the match over. The Head Judge was about to rebuke her. He was convinced she intentionally sabotaged her old rival. And with her behavior, he could have been right.
But Kyou held firm. Right as Satori sank into her stance, preparing to strike, no Judge nor spectator noticed that Satori shifted her toe out of bounds.
Goji won by a technicality.
The audience booed.
Goji crashed unceremoniously down to the ring. The booing was replaced with a gasp and silence. He was out cold for a five-count, but it didn't matter. Satori had already lost.
He rose to his feet and was met with a mix of cheers and boos. Collectively, the spectators were glad he survived.
Kyou came to the stage and kept her distance from an enraged Satori. This would take a long time to mend, if it ever could be. She held aloft Goji's hand and, before Gods, Avatars, Templars, and all in attendance, declared Goji of Solaris the Champion of the Tournament of Templars.
Satori left the stage, her head held high, deliberately ignoring Kyou.
Goji was rushed to the hospital, where every single one of his bandages and casts would have to be replaced. And his neck was going to need stitches.
After a moment of pacing and cooling her temper, Satori sat herself down with her legs crossed on a ceremonial rug in her private quarters. She closed her eyes and gradually put herself into a deep, meditative prayer.
She would need to seek forgiveness for her loss.
A magic circle of purple energy, her soul rings, faded into existence underneath her. Its hue matched the markings of the rug she sat upon. A figurine of a gateway sat on a short table before her. A ribbon of magical energy slithered forth from her circle to the model gateway, energizing it. A facsimile of that gate, constructed of the same purple magical energy, expanded out from the model to the size of a gateway large enough for a man to walk through.
The portal of the gateway shimmered white as a large, tiger-headed man strode through it and entered Satori's room. His body was covered in the fur of a white tiger, with head and tail to match, but he stood like a man. He was clad in ceremonial robes befitting a warrior. He had two katanas strapped to his belt hanging to his left side. When he walked in, his feet were six inches above the ground. All about him, magical ribbons of purple energy floated weightlessly. She had summoned Shiratakemaru to her private chambers.
The magnificent being spoke. "Satori Yoshi, Honored Sister." Satori was not related to him by blood, but rather Honored Sister was the appropriate title for a female high templar of Yuukito. "Speak."
"Oh, Mighty Shiratakemaru, Avatar of Victory. I beg your forgiveness. I have failed." Satori prostrated herself upon the ground in supplication. It was a ritual she had conducted before, every time with genuine contrition. This time was no different.
"Confess." The single word spoke volumes.
"My friend, Kyou Denrei, asked me to spare the lives of the boys from Solaris. She told me Shinjin wouldn't resurrect them if I slayed them. I chose to hold back to honor her request, and as such, I chose the consequences which followed."
"For nine tournaments, the Elf of Sagesse prevented you from taking the title. And now, even with her ineligible to compete, she once again takes your final victory from you."
It's not like that. Satori wanted to protest, but dutifully held her tongue.
"I have, heretofore, forgiven your transgressions against the Principles of Victory when you faced a superior opponent. Do you expect me to believe that you are inferior to that boy?"
"No, my Lord." Satori's words escaped her lips before she fully understood the consequences.
"Nor can I forgive you for allowing yourself to be defeated by an inferior."
Satori's pulse quickened and her eyes, still downcast, widened. His words had rocked her to her very core. Never before had the Avatar of Victory denied her pennance. What would this mean? Would she be excommunicated? Exiled? Her mind raced, filled with doubts and fears.
"Fear not." His voice was commanding. "To receive my forgiveness, you must kill that boy in honorable combat. Let none stand in your way. This is my Commandment to you."
"I will obey. I will face the boy named Goji and challenge him to honorable combat, and I will kill him in your name."
"For now, he sleeps. On the morrow, he returns to Solaris with his companions. It would be best if you challenged him before he leaves this world."
"I will let the coward rest and recover, then I will do as you have commanded, my Lord."
The Avatar of Victory vanished through the gate, and the magic throughout the room dissipated. The gateway, the ribbon, and the circle beneath Satori's prone form faded from view, leaving but the ceremonial rug and the original figure of a gateway as they were before.
Satori rose from her place, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and grabbed her glaive and a whet stone. As she sharpened the edge of her blade, so too did she sharpen her resolve. She did not rest that night.
"As for you, friend," She addressed her glaive, "What was it about his blood that made you react so?"
The windows of the hospital room where Goji lay were programmed to simulate the light from his home world at the precise time of day that the mountaintop monastery on Solaris would be experiencing, which was sunset. The hospital itself had a philosophy that offworlders heal better in an environment that reminds them of home. Goji didn't know this, but was nonetheless grateful for the soothing environment he found himself in.
When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the smiles of his friends, Naroki and Sumitsu. Naroki's face was covered in adhesive bandages, which gave Goji a chuckle, then he immediately regretted it as his ribs cried out in pain.
"Easy," Sumitsu soothed. "You've been through quite a lot."
"Yeah." Goji sighed and lay back in his bed. "I won. Looks like you're gonna marry me after all."
"Our betrothal was not contingent on your placement in this tournament." Sumitsu's retort was deliberately incredulous but a touch harsher than she intended.
"If it was, I bet Naroki wouldn't have surrendered to that Tapferkeitan." Goji retorted.
Naroki started turning red and stammering, shooting glances at Sumitsu to see her reaction. "But- but- but.. No, Goji. She beat me fair and square. She was the better fighter. I'm just grateful she didn't take my head when she had the chance."
Coincidentally, the knight whom Satori decapitated in her first fight was walking down the hall with his head reattached and a magical bandage glowing faintly pink wrapped around his neck.
"Seems they can fix that sort of thing here." Naroki continued.
"Not for us," Goji reminded him of their deity's prohibition of their healing or resurrection.
"Right…" Naroki put a hand to his neck and rubbed it gingerly.
While Goji and Naroki were staring at the man who had just been recapitated, Sumitsu was still processing what she had just witnessed between the boys. This was the first time in her life that Sumitsu realized the depth of Naroki's romantic feelings for her. He had always behaved differently when he was aware she was around. While growing up together, she would often sneak up on him to see how he behaved with Goji when she wasn't around, because once she turned up, Naroki always stiffened up and treated her with the most polite and respectful manner he knew how.
But she knew Naroki wasn't the only one to behave differently around her. She always assumed it was due to her status as the Avatar of Shinjin. Everyone she knew seemed to be on their best behavior around her —everyone except, of course, for Goji. Goji was always himself. He was always a goofball, never serious, not particularly rude or polite, but friendly to everyone. He never changed his behavior whenever she came into the room.
But upon further inspection of her memories, she couldn't believe how she had missed it: the deflections, the blush, the dedication, the speed with which he would obey any request she made. How could she have missed it? Naroki was obviously in love with her.
Her heart started pitying him. All those times she talked about her betrothal to Goji in front of him, and Goji's playful nature, teasing. She must have hurt him so badly without even knowing it. But even if Naroki loved her, there was nothing she could do. Her betrothal to Goji was a commandment. She had to obey her father.
"Sumitsu?" Goji asked.
Sumitsu didn't realize she was lost in her own thoughts, and didn't know how long the boys had been staring at her with concerned expressions. "Oh, don't mind me. What were you saying?"
"Now that the tournament is over, when do you suppose the wedding will be?" Naroki asked, in a voice that sounded vaguely rehearsed, as if to suppress any emotional baggage.
"I won't be marrying someone covered in bandages. Let us allow our friend a chance to heal first," she said, resting a hand gingerly on Goji's thigh, perhaps one of the only places that wasn't bruised or bandaged.
Goji smiled back at her. "Thank you."
The three of them turned their attention to the knocking at their door. A green-haired elf in a nurse's gown wearing glasses and a medical mask entered the room. "Hello, Champion." She said.
"I could get used to hearing that." Goji beamed.
"I won't be calling him that when we get home," Naroki announced, then asked Sumitsu, "You?"
Sumitsu glanced at Goji before closing her eyes, smirking, and subtly shaking her head.
"I'm afraid that visiting hours are coming to a close in this wing," the nurse announced apologetically. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave and let the Champion rest."
Because Naroki and Sumitsu were good people, it never occurred to them to try to exert their authority and demand to stay longer. They obliged the nurse by gathering their things and leaving.
"I'll see you again soon," Sumitsu called out to her fiancé.
"I'll be here," Goji replied.
Neither one had any idea how wrong they both were.