100.- The Edge of Chaos

Morning crashed in like a hammer to Sebastián's skull. The sagging mattress of "The Sleeping Dragon" had been a relentless foe all night, creaking under his weight while his mind spun over the tournament and the kiss Kaili had dangled like a devil's wager. He'd managed to drift off somehow, only to be yanked awake by a firm hand shaking his shoulder with more force than necessary.

"Come on, gardener, get your damn ass up," Kaili growled, her voice sharp as a freshly honed blade. She stood by the bed, her black armor gleaming under the murky light filtering through the broken window, silver eyes boring into him with impatience that practically sparked. "We don't have all day, and that kiss isn't gonna win itself."

Sebastián half-sat up, rubbing his eyes with his hands, his head still fogged thick. "Already?" he rasped, voice rough like he'd swallowed gravel.

"Yeah, you idiot," Kaili shot back, crossing her arms with a metallic clink. "The sun's up, and if we're hitting that shitty tournament, move it. Or what, you'd rather stay here snoring and miss your shot?"

He let out a short laugh, running a hand through his tangled hair as he slid out of bed. "Give me a sec, 'wife,'" he said, throwing her a bold wink that earned a glare. "Not all of us wake up ready to smash the world. How about a coffee before I chase that kiss?"

Kaili snorted, a sound that sliced through the stale air of the room. "Coffee?" she echoed, dripping with mockery. "How precious, gardener. Move before I drag you down the stairs myself. And don't expect me to be sweet like your prize."

"Got it," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender as he rummaged for his clothes scattered across the floor. He dressed fast, the worn leather of his boots squeaking against the rotten boards, and felt a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in his chest. The tournament was insane—terrifying, sure, but it drew him in like a moth to a bonfire. Maybe it was the chance to prove himself, to face the fear twisting his guts, or just to earn that kiss Kaili had hung out there like a carrot for a dumbass donkey. "So, what's the plan? You teach me not to die for that kiss, or just use me as a punching bag?"

She shot him a quick glance, her lips curling into a sly smirk. "Depends on how useless you are today, gardener," she said, turning toward the door. "If you want that kiss, don't make me regret it. Let's go."

Sebastián yanked his pack tight and followed, the stairs creaking under his boots as they stepped out into East Vigil's crisp air. The sun was climbing, painting the cobblestone streets a dirty gold, and the city's clamor swallowed them: vendors shouting, carts rattling, a rising murmur that seemed to know where it was headed.

The trek to the Coliseum stretched longer than he'd figured, but every step made his pulse kick harder. When it loomed into view, Sebastián felt a buzz under his skin like static. The Coliseum rose like a titan of gray stone, a perfect oval with high walls topped with battlements and colorful banners flapping in the wind. The noise hit him like a wave: the roar of a hungry crowd, the clang of weapons echoing from somewhere inside, the shrill cries of street hawkers peddling charred meat and cheap trinkets. It was massive, more imposing than anything he'd pieced together from the torn, blood-stained journals of adventurers Kaili had gutted in the dungeon, and for a moment, he stood gaping, jaw slack.

"Look at that, Kaili," he said, forcing a casual tone though his voice wobbled a bit. "Pretty incredible, huh?"

Kaili barely flicked her eyes at it before pinning him with a look of pure disdain. "It's big," she said, flat as if she were talking about some barn. "I've seen tougher strongholds. And crushed them all."

Sebastián laughed, a bold sound that slipped out unfiltered. "Of course, 'cause for you it's all about smashing, right?" he said, giving her a light nudge. "How about we enjoy it for a bit before you turn it to rubble?"

She turned her head toward him, the air humming around her for a beat. "Keep running your mouth, gardener, and I'll turn you to rubble first," she said, but a playful glint flickered in her eyes, an edge that didn't cut as deep as usual. "Walk. I didn't come to sightsee."

They joined the line of hopefuls snaking around the Coliseum, a chaotic mess of bodies that seemed to stretch forever. The variety was a circus: burly warriors in gleaming armor that clanked with every step, mages hunched under ragged robes with carved staffs, nimble archers with quivers bristling with arrows that whistled in practice, and a few shifty-looking types who seemed more bandit than fighter, with hidden daggers and low laughs. The air reeked of sweat, metal, and a whiff of cheap incense someone was burning for "good luck."

Kaili crossed her arms, the clink of her armor cutting through the buzz as she surveyed the crowd with raw contempt. "Look at these morons," she said, her voice oozing venom. "They think they're gonna win something besides a beating."

Sebastián tried playing peacemaker, though he knew it was like tossing water on a blaze. "Well, everyone's got a right to try, don't they?" he said, shrugging. "Maybe one's got a trick up their sleeve. Not everyone's as pathetic as Cassian."

She let out a sharp laugh, a sound that turned heads nearby. "A trick up their sleeve?" she mocked, her tone dripping scorn. "Doubt it, gardener. This bunch of losers wouldn't last a blink against me."

"What about me?" he said, flashing a sly smirk with a bold spark in his eyes. "How long do I last with you before you turn me to mush?"

Kaili studied him for a moment, her lips curling into a dangerous smirk. "Longer than you deserve and less than you'd like," she said, stepping forward in line. "Keep being a loudmouth and we'll find out today."

He laughed, a warm, confident sound, and shut up as they moved along. The line was a parade of chaos: a beefy guy in dented armor missing an eye bragged about slaying dragons, his breath stinking of sour liquor. "Ripped its damn head off with these hands!" he roared, thumping his chest. A lean woman in a green robe with a longbow fired arrows at a makeshift target, each shot a deadly whistle slicing the air. A young mage, his pointed hat drooping over his eyes, tried levitating a rock and only got it to wobble before it thudded down, earning cruel chuckles.

Sebastián nodded toward the mage with his chin. "Check that guy, Kaili. Think I'll have to face him?"

She didn't even turn her head. "Don't be stupid, gardener," she said, her tone biting. "There'll be categories: strength, magic, skill, that crap. You're not fighting me or those clowns. Not yet."

"Not yet?" he said, raising an eyebrow with a spark of bravado. "So you're planning to thrash me after the tournament?"

Kaili smirked, a flash of fangs glinting in the sun. "Misbehave, gardener, and no tournament's gonna save you from me," she said, stepping ahead and leaving him with a churning gut and a grin he couldn't shake.

After what felt like forever, with the sun climbing higher and the heat pressing down like a vise, they reached the registration desk. The clerk was a bald, drenched man, a worn quill in hand and an open ledger that looked ready to fall apart. He eyed them with weary eyes, like he'd already dealt with too many fools that day.

"Next," he grunted, his voice flat as he drummed his fingers on the splintered wood. "Names?"

"Kaili," she said, her tone cold and final, daring him to ask for more.

The clerk blinked, caught off guard, and looked up from the book. "Just Kaili?" he asked, frowning.

"Yeah," she snapped, leaning forward a bit, the air humming around her like a silent threat. "Just Kaili. Got a problem with that?"

The man swallowed hard, clearly rattled by those silver eyes that seemed to slice him apart, and scribbled the name with a shaky hand. "No, no, no problem," he stammered, turning to Sebastián. "And you?"

"Sebastián," he said, with a sly smirk. "Just Sebastián."

The clerk sighed, like the lack of last names was a personal affront, and scratched the name down with a sharp stroke. "Fine," he said, wiping his brow with a ragged sleeve. "Now, tell me what category you want to compete in."

Kaili shrugged, like the question was a waste of breath. "Doesn't matter," she said, her voice flat but brimming with arrogance. "Any one's fine."

The clerk stared at her, incredulous, the quill quivering in his grip. "What do you mean, any one?" he said, his voice pitching up. "You've gotta pick one. Strength, magic, skill…"

"I said it already," Kaili cut in, her patience vanishing like blood in a fire. "Doesn't matter. I'll win anyway. Do your job."

The man opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut fast when he caught the lethal glint in Kaili's eyes. "Okay, okay," he said, backpedaling. "I'll put you in strength. It's the most… general, I guess."

"Whatever," she said, crossing her arms with a metallic clank, like she didn't give a damn as long as she came out on top.

The clerk turned to Sebastián, clearly hoping for something easier. "And you?"

Sebastián hesitated, scratching his neck as his mind raced in circles. He wasn't a warrior with steel muscles, a mage with flashy tricks, or an archer with hawk-like aim. His world was plants, roots, dirt under his nails, and he doubted there was a category for pulling weeds under duress. "I…" he started, but Kaili chopped through like an axe on dry wood.

"He's in beginners," she said, her tone firm and leaving no room for debate. "It's his first time, and I don't want him turned to paste before he learns a damn thing. He's got a kiss to win, after all."

Sebastián shot her a look, surprised, a flicker of bravado sparking in his chest. "Speaking for me now?" he said, with a sly smirk. "What if I wanted to join strength with you? What if I wanna show off and earn that kiss big?"

Kaili turned her head toward him, eyes narrowing with a mix of mockery and challenge. "Strength?" she said, letting out a cutting laugh that made the clerk flinch. "Don't be an ass, gardener. They'd squash you like a fly in half a heartbeat. Beginners is where you belong, and thank me for not dumping you in the trash."

He laughed, a warm, confident sound, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Well, if my 'wife' says so, guess there's no arguing," he said, winking at her. "But if I win in beginners, you bump me up to strength? That kiss deserves some glory, right?"

"Keep dreaming," she said, her lips curling into a dangerous smirk. "Win a fight first, and we'll see if that kiss doesn't kill you before I do."

The clerk, relieved the spat didn't escalate, nodded fast. "Alright," he said, scribbling in the book with a frenzy. "Strength for Kaili, beginners for Sebastián. Here's your numbers." He handed over two leather strips with etched numbers—13 for Kaili, 47 for Sebastián—and took a breath before going on. "Report to the main arena in an hour. Rules are: one-on-one fights, single elimination, no killing… in theory. Weapons and armor allowed, with restrictions. And…"

He paused, glancing around like he was afraid someone might overhear, and dropped his voice. "A warning: this tournament ain't a kid's game. There've been accidents. Deaths, even. If you've got doubts, get out now."

Sebastián felt a chill crawl up his spine, the knot in his gut tightening like an iron fist. He knew it was dangerous, but those words made it real, raw, like a blade to the ribs. "Any questions?" the clerk said, raising an eyebrow.

Kaili shook her head, her expression bored, like he'd been rambling about scrubbing dishes. Sebastián, though, raised a hand, his voice steady despite the inner tremor. "What about traps or sabotage? That happen here?"

The clerk grinned, a nasty twist that bared yellowed teeth. "Anything can happen, pal," he said, leaning in a bit. "We do what we can to stop it, but no promises. Watch your backs."

Sebastián nodded, the knot growing, but Kaili just huffed. "Let 'em try," she said, her voice low and deadly. "I'll gut them before they hit the ground."

The clerk paled, scribbling something else in the book. "Well, that's it," he said, nearly stumbling over the words. "Good luck. You'll need it."

Sebastián grabbed his number with a damp hand and followed Kaili away from the desk. "You sure about this?" he said, glancing at her as they pushed through the crowd. "Sounds like someone might stick a knife in me for kicks."

She smirked, a flash of fangs catching the sun. "Don't worry, gardener," she said, stepping close enough that her armor grazed his arm. "I'll be there to protect you. And to teach you a lesson. That kiss doesn't come cheap."

"A lesson?" he said, raising an eyebrow, bravado creeping back into his voice. "In not dying? Or in earning your lips without you killing me?"

"All of it," she said, her tone laced with something beyond just mockery. "Fighting, living, and me. Now walk, or I leave you behind."

The Coliseum was a hellhole when they reached its guts, a maze of dark corridors, training rooms, and rest areas sprawling like a twisted web. The air thrummed with wild energy: trainers' shouts bouncing off stone walls, the clang of swords ringing like a war drum, the electric buzz of half-assed spells, and a constant murmur of voices seeping from the shadows. It stank of stale sweat, tanned leather, weapon oil, and a faint trace of burned incense and herbs drifting like a useless veil.

"Stay close, gardener," Kaili said, her voice cutting as they moved down a narrow hall. "I don't wanna track you down if you get lost like a dumbass."

Sebastián nodded, sticking to her side like she was his last lifeline on a cliff. "Relax," he said, with a sly smirk. "I don't get lost that easy. Though with all these folks itching to kill me, you could carry me in your arms, right?"

She shot him a quick glance, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Keep talking, and I'll carry you in pieces," she said, but stepped closer, her armor brushing his arm again. "Walk."

They explored the place, their steps echoing off the worn floor. There were small arenas for prelim fights, stained with dark patches that might've been old blood; training zones with shredded straw dummies and burst sandbags; even a makeshift forge where a sweat-drenched guy hammered a broken sword, the clang of metal filling the air like a heartbeat.

Sebastián pointed to a room where mages practiced, fireballs and ice bolts slamming into magical shields in a display of light and chaos. "Check that out," he said, a hint of awe in his voice. "What do you think?"

Kaili barely turned her head, her contempt thick. "Amateur magic," she grunted. "Chatter and sparks. I'd snap them in half without breaking a sweat."

"What if I get one?" he said, with a warm laugh. "You gonna teach me to dodge fire?"

"Dodge or burn, gardener," she said, moving on. "I'm not sweeping up your ashes."

Farther along, they ran into the tournament's heavy hitters. A giant man, about eight feet tall, hoisted an iron weight like it was nothing, his muscles like boulders under dark skin etched with tribal tattoos—beasts roaring in black ink. He was shirtless, sweat gleaming on his torso like a river.

"That's gotta be 'Iron Hammer,'" Sebastián said, recalling the inn talk. "They say he's undefeated."

Kaili raised an eyebrow, her voice thick with mockery. "Undefeated?" she said. "Against who? Farmers with sticks? He's a slow meat sack."

A bit farther, a middle-aged woman in a red silk robe with a jeweled staff hurled spells at a magical target. Light beams, wind gusts, and blue fire hit with pinpoint precision, the air crackling around her.

"That's 'Scarlet Sorceress,'" Sebastián said, impressed. "They say her magic's unstoppable."

"Unstoppable," Kaili echoed, with a sly smirk that promised trouble. "We'll see, gardener. Get close to her, and her little game's over."

In a shadowy corner, a lean, agile guy in black with a hood moved like a ghost, vanishing and reappearing with a whisper. His hands toyed with daggers that gleamed under the dim light.

"That's 'Swift Shadow,'" Sebastián said. "They say no one catches him."

Kaili watched him a moment, eyes narrowing with something that might've been interest or disdain. "Fast but frail," she said, almost to herself. "One good hit, and he's done."

Finally, they passed a knight in full, mirror-bright armor, still as a statue. His long sword rested on the ground, and though his face was hidden behind the helm, he radiated a heavy, almost suffocating presence.

"That guy…" Sebastián said, swallowing hard. "No clue who he is, but I don't like him."

Kaili gave him a quick glance, her disdain sharp. "A tin can with a sword," she said. "Nothing to fear, gardener. Just noise."

She started muttering, breaking down the rivals as they walked. "The big one's strong but slow," she said, about 'Iron Hammer.' "That heavy armor tires him out. A few quick hits, and he's down." Then, on 'Scarlet Sorceress': "Powerful, but grab her up close, and she's a rag." And on 'Swift Shadow': "Fast, but one solid blow sends him to the dirt."

Sebastián listened, trying to soak up every word, though half of it slipped past him. "And me?" he said, with a spark of bravado. "What do I do against those crazies?"

Kaili looked at him, her expression a mix of mockery and something softer, barely there. "You stay close and don't get in the way," she said, stepping near enough that her breath grazed his cheek. "Watch. Learn. Maybe someday you'll be more than a gardener with dirt on his hands if you earn that kiss."

He froze, the heat of her breath and the scent of her skin—dark flowers and raw energy—hitting him like a punch. "What?" she said, pulling back a bit, her voice rough.

"Nothing," he said, looking away with a sly smirk. "Just… listening."

Minutes later, in a tight corridor, Sebastián tripped on a loose stone, the treacherous floor giving way under his boots. He was about to eat dirt when Kaili grabbed his arm with a swift move, her steel-strong fingers steadying him. The brush of their hands sent a shiver up his spine, and he looked up, caught in her eyes.

"Thanks," he said, voice shaky but with a hint of humor. "Always quick to save me, huh?"

She shrugged, letting go with a huff. "No big deal," she said. "But watch it, gardener. I'm not hauling you to the arena like some princess."

"What if I want you to?" he said, with a warm laugh.

"Keep dreaming," she said, but a sly smirk crept up, and they kept walking.

The hour hit like a hammer on steel. A horn blared from the main arena, summoning the fighters, and the crowd roared with a force that shook the walls. Kaili and Sebastián headed to the waiting area, a packed space of combatants gearing up: some sharpening blades with shrill screeches, others muttering prayers to gods who probably weren't listening, a few staring blank-eyed, terror etched on their faces.

The vibe was electric, a mix of sweat, fear, and anticipation clinging to the skin. Hawkers shouted outside, peddling burnt meat and sour beer, while musicians pounded out frantic tunes that blended with the arena's roar.

Sebastián took a deep breath, the number 47 hanging from his neck like a weight. "You ready?" he said, looking at her.

She smirked, a flash of fangs under the dim light. "Always, gardener," she said, her voice low and lethal. "You?"

"Nope," he said, with a raw honesty that slipped out unfiltered, followed by a warm laugh. "But I will be. You ditching me if I get smashed?"

Kaili locked eyes with him, a flicker of approval in her gaze. "That's the spirit," she said, stepping close enough that her armor brushed his chest. "Don't make me look bad, gardener. First fight, listen up: don't die fast, and maybe you'll earn that kiss without me killing you first."

"And if I win?" he said, with a sly smirk. "Anything more than a lesson?"

She let out a sharp laugh, but didn't look away. "Win first, and we'll see," she said, her tone thick with challenge. "Now move. Chaos is waiting."

And with that, they stepped into the arena, the crowd's roar slamming into them like a tidal wave, the number 13 glinting on Kaili's leather strip like a promise of blood and victory.