60.

Arlon can feel the tension that roams around in the arena. It is no surprise that Connie made it to the final battle. He does every year. Better yet, he’s an ongoing winner. Elai, though.. Elai is a shock. Not just to him, but to every single person inside of this stadium. Arlon mostly worries for Connie’s reaction. The two finalists never find out who they’re fighting until they see each other eye to eye. Or at least, Connie doesn’t know. The last two times have been the same opponent, so he might be expecting her again. He sure as hell isn’t expecting Elai. Unless they had met in the hallway, but Arlon believes he would’ve known that. Either Chay would’ve told him, or Connie would’ve come up to him in distress.
Beside all that chaos, it has been Nerys who has been distracting him. He knew her name the moment he heard it; Queen Nerys of Zagaroth. It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise that she ended up beside him. The war between Turi and Lyle happens on the big, dead valley of Zagaroth after all. But he is tense, nonetheless. Because what does an impartial queen need from him? She never objectified against any of it, not after the war had been going on for so many years. Every ruler of Zagaroth was fine with whatever drama occurred on the dead valley, and Nerys seemed to rule just the same.
“If you do not mind me asking-“
“I do. I’d much rather wait for the tournament to be over. I am quite excited to see Connie Hanlon in action. Have read much about him.” There’s something in her tone. A lie. A pretty lie. Eryx had taught Arlon all too well to detect any sign of mischief. In this moment, it is a blessing. He will make sure to keep his eyes on her, if she decides to stay in Turi for a while.
“You’ll be surprised..” Arlon sighs the words out. He lies now, too. There will be no surprise; if Connie decides to fight Elai, he will win in a split second. He has seen the two spar during training. Elai has got no fucking chance. Not even with the sword he had obtained.
Connie is the first one to walk into the arena, boots pressing down into the mud. He has his arms up and spread, allowing the crowd to cheer for him with a teeth-wide smile. This is what Connie loves. Everyone here is a fan of the Hanlon twin, the one and only ongoing winner of Turian tournaments.
To Arlon’s surprise, the cheers for Elai are loud, too. Not as loud as Connie’s, but the noise is loud enough to raise your eyebrows. Shit. He has got them in the palm of his hand. Which shouldn’t be much of a surprise; the seven matches Elai had fought were all pure performance. He wasn’t cruel, hasn’t even broken a single bone, even as a Death Gazer. He almost looked like he was in a play, one that he was leading.
“Elai?” Connie, in the meanwhile, isn’t as excited to see the long-haired grin up at him. his stance had become much more confident. And even his palms stopped sweating. He wears the unknown blue sword with pride; he is ready to fight his friend.
“You’ve got yourself a worthy opponent, Connie!” The boy has had too much fun. He doesn’t care about Connie’s worry. He is here to fight, and most likely lose. But he will lose with a smile on his face; his reputation has surely grown, and will continue to grow if they decide to keep talking about him. Elai seems to be the only one aware of his own tactics. Chay didn’t agree on getting a good reputation, and Connie fucking hates to see him here.
Because why would he even try to fight Elai? In Connie’s eyes, and from what he has seen during training, Elai is still half of what he could be. He will falter in a split second.
“No fucking way.” Connie puts his hand up at the host, a gesture he gets all too well. The start signal doesn’t appear in Elai’s ears as Connie walks up to him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Same as you.”
“You’re fucking nuts!”
“I won all my matches, didn’t I?” Maybe it is the wrong time to be cocky.
Connie cocks his head. “Those matches aren’t on the same level as I am.”
“Confident.”
“Elai, this isn’t a fucking joke!”
Never in his life has Elai experienced someone being worried about their own strength. He says the words with so much doubt, as if he didn’t just declare himself as a champion. Not that Elai wouldn’t do the same; he is a champion after all.
“I’m not taking this as a fucking joke, Connie.” Are they really going to argue right before their match? Elai rolls his eyes and takes a step to the left, eyes looking up at the host for a split second. Connie has got the man palmed in; the host won’t react to any of Elai’s moves. Of course. The Hanlon brother has a privilege.
“The people like me, Connie. They want to see more of me. Didn’t you hear their cheers? If I want to keep my identity a secret, I have to make them like me.”
“Not like this.” He’s short with his words.
Elai huffs. “Exactly like this! The people will talk about this tournaments for months, at least until the next one. My name will be at least mentioned enough times to make half of Turi know it by sound. Don’t you get it? This has been the perfect opportunity!” Elai spreads his arms, muscles burning as he keeps his sword in one hand. If they don’t start the fight soon, he will do it himself.
“I am not going to fight you.”
“Then I will win.”
“I don’t care!”
“You’re so fucking full of yourself you believe you can defeat anyone.” Elai’s tactic doesn’t go unnoticed. Connie isn’t one to fall for stupid words. He knows he’s trying to manipulate him into becoming angry.
“Because I can! Elai please-“
“Can you defeat Arlon?”
Ah. The right words. Connie’s lips press against one another as he takes them in. he doesn’t know how Elai was able to find out about his one weakness. The one fucking weakness he’s ashamed of; Arlon would win.
“Probably.” Connie is bad at lying.
“I’m not so sure about that. I’ve seen your technique, and I’ve seen Arlon’s. You’re messy, predictable. Unlike the king up there.” Elai points his finger up at Arlon, who has no clue of what they’re talking about. The people are getting impatient, too; when are the two strongest of this year’s tournament going to crush each other?
“He is clean, and sly. You couldn’t be able to defeat him because you’re too weak-“ Elai watches the warrior take of his tank top. His muscles are tense; the weakness lies deeper than Elai had expected. He had seen the way Connie looks at Arlon when he’s training. It is a look of jealousy. He wants what Arlon already has.
“You wanna play it like that, pretty boy?” Now, the nickname just makes Elai grin.
His grin slowly disappears when Connie throws his hands up to his shoulder blades. The green color that appears behind him is hard to ignore, and it is clear that this is the moment the people had been waiting for.