Untold Fate - Chapter 2

Chapter 2
– Harmony? That’s a girl’s name…


Harmony stands in front of the queue, waiting quietly for a man to finish at the qualifying booth.

After a few moments, the man steps back from the booth. Eventually turning around with the look of shock and horror painted on his face.

Harmony takes little notice of the man, only glancing for the briefest of seconds at his bold and tattooed head. But the man spots his glance, much to his regret, and strides over to him, venting out unexpectedly his unwelcome frustration.

“Do you know what that old man just did? The one sitting in that stupid booth?” the bold man rhetorically asked him. “He didn’t let me in the tournament that’s what he did! Thirty years of fighting experience and that old git won’t let me in! Just because I couldn’t answer the three qualifying questions!

How in a gods name are you meant to know the average speed of a brusco? If you’re in a fight with one of those two-headed buggers, you don’t examine how fast it runs, you bloody kill it!” the fighter shouted, slamming his fist into his hand to emphasize his point, fuming his anger.

Harmony keeps his eyes averted, having no interest what so ever in goading the fool. But the disgruntled bold headed man does not leave his presence, waiting for some sort of reply.

“You finished?” He supplemented at last, through gritted teeth, throwing a warning glance, then looking away once more.

But the bold headed man holds his stare. He can feel the bold mans eyes piercing into him, weighing him up for a challenge.  He doesn’t flinch, not even as the bold mans spit slaps the cobblestones between his feet. Though he does tense a little at the insult, it is not enough for anyone to notice.

He isn’t going to fight this decrepit fool, someone twice his age and out of his prime, too weak to even qualify for the tournament. What does he have to prove? He already knows he’s the best. Besides, if he did knock this man to the floor, he might just lose his place in the queue.

The bold man waits a little longer, grunting in satisfaction as he sneers down his nose at him, bathing in a victory of some sort. The fool never notices the subtle curl at the edges of Harmonry’s mouth, an incredulous smirk.

The bold man turns his attention to the rest of the queue, walking down alongside the men and women who patiently wait, to continue his rant.

“Theirs no point in queuing up!” the bold man angrily exclaimed. “None of you are going to get in! You don’t have to be a fighter to qualify, but you do have to be a bloody genius!”

Harmony steps up to the booth, as the ill-tempered man walks off down the street, his rant still heard faintly.

In the small red booth, he finds an old man sitting there, grumbling to himself. His hair thin and grey, slicked back with a centre parting, wearing thick-lensed glasses to clearly see as he elegantly writes in his large book.

The old man seems not to notice him standing at the booth. Harmony has never been one for prolonged patience, feeling his wait in the queue was long enough, barking out a remark.

“Well, you made that man’s day.” He snapped.

The old man stops writing in the book, coughing sternly, peaking up at him and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing. But in the old mans eyes, Harmony can see the story is told differently, having no doubts the old man has already filed the comment in his mind for reference. Good, he thought to himself, maybe he’ll pay more attention to his job.

In stark contrast though to his frail body, the old mans voice echoes with authority, holding a grave resonance, surprising Harmony a little from coming from such a old man.

“Let’s start with the proceedings then, shall we?” the old man said bluntly. “First what is your renown to even qualify for the qualifying questions?”

“Defeated a dozen or so beast that strayed into Wondon Port.” Harmony replied.

“And a date if you don’t mind?”

“Three weeks past, second day, first week of spring.”

The old man flicks to the very back pages of his book, running his paled index finger down the long list. “Heroic Deeds” is written as the heading of the page.

After searching through a few pages in the dusty and ancient tome, the old man seems to finally find what he wants, reading it out loud for him to hear.

“Ah, here it is. Date, second day, first week of spring. Location, Wondon Port. Dee-” The old man said, his voice suddenly cutting short.

He watches the old mans pondering eyes running across the line he was to about to speak, making Harmony smile, smugly.

Clearing his throat, the old man once again continues. “Deed. You fought against a pack of stalklers. And there were seventeen of them in the pack to be precise. Theirs also a note here that you severed theirs heads as a way of killing them...every one of them. How charming.” The old man said sarcastically.

How else did the he expect him to kill the stalklers? Harmony wondered. Best way to kill most things is to take off their heads.

“Well, you have the renown,” the old man said in admission. “But now I need proof you are actually who you say you are. So I would like to see your letter of recognition please, from an authoritative figure who can stand as testament to your deed.”

Harmony pulls out a folded note from his back pocket, handing it over to the old man without saying a word. The old man compares the signature at the bottom of the note with the signature in the book, before even reading the note itself. Once done, the old man hands back the note to him, grimly smiling.

“The mayor’s signature proves your validation.” The old man said, with great reluctance. “Now onto the questions. The questions are here for you to prove that theirs some brain in that brawn of yours, and your deed wasn’t just sheer luck.” The old man pauses for a moment, smirking up at him before continuing. “You must answer three questions, in relation to the five different species of monsters that you might fight in the tournament.

By the way, any received information from already qualified persons about these questions, will be useless as each individual is asked different questions.

Now then, question one, if not treated, approximately how long do you have to live if a giagant poisons you?”

“About three hours.” Harmony quickly answers.

“Correct.” The old man verifies, with complete surprise. “Question two; what is the most effective way of killing a frenbun?”

“Fire.” He answers, without a moment’s hesitation.

“...Correct.” the old man once again verifies, his tone now sounding more annoyed than surprised. “Last question, a brusco has two heads, which head has proven to show more intelligence?”

“The left head, the one that’s lifeless.” He answers.

“Correct. Congratulations...” the old man said, his voice becoming hollow. “you have qualified for the tournament. Let me fill out your certificate...”

The old man deeply sighs, while Harmony smiles on amusingly.

Filling out the certificate, and writing in his book, the old man creates small talk with him, though he can hear curiosity in the old mans tone, that his words are not just there to pass the time.

“You know, you’re the twelve today that’s taken one of the last few places in the tournament.” The old man commented, peering up at him. “And all of you are young men.”

“...So?” he replied absently.

“Well let me guess. You’re here to try and win the young Princesses heart.”

“What’s the Princess got to do with the tournament?”

The old man stops in his writing, apparently dumbfounded by his remark. Looking up at him in a bizarre astonishment. “Are you trying to bluff me?” the old man shouted. “A date with the Princess is a prize you can choose should you win!”

This information is new to him; Faid never said the Princess was up for a prize. Not that he cares in the slightest, or that it even matters, as this doesn’t change the plan, if there’s money still up for grabs that is, however if there’s not...

“Well there better still be money to be won.” He growled. “I didn’t come here to date some spoilt brat.”

For a moment, the old man just stared at him, quite confused by his outburst. Frowning a little in thought as he resumes with his writing.

“Theirs six thousand for the first prize. Or you can choose the date with Princess Sky.” the old man clarified. “You know, you’re the first young man to come here wanting to fill his back pocket. The rest of the young men in the tournament - and there’s sixty-seven to count - have come here with hoping hearts. You surprise me.”

“What can I say; the money is more worthwhile...” Harmony sombrely replied.

“I think sixty-seven others in this tournament would disagree.” The old man warned. “It seems every young man from every corner of the lands have come here for the tournament. All wanting their chance with the Princess. I can’t blame them though; she’s turning out to be quite a beautiful woman.”   

“Do you bore everyone with this speech? I couldn’t care less about the Princess. When I win I’m taking the money.” He stated, unable to sound anymore arrogant.

“Well your certainly confident. But what makes you think your going to win?” the old man questioned, narrowing his eyes on him. “ There will be ninety-nine other competitors in the tournament. And they’ve all done their heroic deeds. Everyone one of them will be as good as you.”

He smiles yet again. Finding the old mans presumptuous naivety too amusing to bear. Beginning to wonder if everyone in Barmeekra will be like this.

“As good as me? We’ll see...” he replied chuckling to himself.

“Right then, all I need now is your name and age and you can be on your way.” The old man said.

“Harmony, seventeen.”

“And your second name?”

“Don’t have one. The names just Harmony.”

At that moment, he hears a voice shouting from the queue, strong and clear.

“Harmony?” he hears the voice sound. “That’s a girl’s name!”

Everyone in the queue laughs quietly to the comment. Harmony shoots back a glance over his shoulder, spotting the culprit hastily taking his clasped hands away from around his mouth.

You’ll pay for that, he decided there and then.

“Have you finished? I’ve been standing here long enough.” He snapped, as he turned back to the old man.

“All finished. Your details have been written in the book and here is your certificate that proves you are the ninety-third qualifier of the tournament. For more details please be at the city centre at one o’clock for the Kings annual speech.” The old man informed.

He snatches the certificate from the old mans hand, ignoring his polite gesture of a handshake. He has a more pressing need to attend to, turning around and slowly walking down alongside of the queue.

Halfway down, he calmly halts by the side of a dashing young man, fully armoured in the finest of craftsmanship from the head down, his silver armour shining in the light.

This was the halfwit who threw the insult at him, Harmony was for sure, but at first, the young man takes no notice of his presence. When he finally speaks however, the young man darts upright and pays attention.

“So you think my names funny?” Harmony asked rhetorically. “I hope you qualify for the tournament, because the next time we meet, I’ll drop you to the floor where you belong...” he hissed, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Whether it’s in the arena or not.”

The young man is taken by surprise, but not even for a second does he show any signs of denial or remorse. If anything, he holds his ground against Harmony, staring back in defiance. The man’s arms open as if admitting to a crime, yet standing in challenge, taking a step forward.

“So what if I made a comment about that name of yours?” The dashing and well spoken man replied. “If you came for an apology, I would have gladly obliged. I am a gentleman after all. But now you’ve just made things interesting with those empty threats of yours. I’ll see you to the arena, “Harmony”...”

““Hollow threats”?” Harmony mused with a grin. “No, you have me all wrong. I was making a promise...see you soon pretty boy...”

He breaks the standoff, walking away with his adversary’s eyes burning in his back. He’ll deal with that prat later he thought, but as for now, he has to find Ottaz, somewhere in this busy godforsaken crowd.