First Meetings - RM

'It's been 5 long years since she left home.

… Well, that's not entirely true; she didn't just 'leave' home by choice; she retreated for her life in the dark of night!'

After being sentenced to death for committing 'treason' against the crown, Daria escaped before her parents could execute her. Although speaking up against an unjust arrest & execution of an innocent couple shouldn't be considered treason, in my opinion, at least.

I, Zika Adeleh, aka. Former Princess Daria Akhtar of the Northern Elvan clan; was currently in the Red Devil's underground club, sipping on Moonbloom whiskey glass. As I sit at the counter, I'm watching a fight against a muscle-head male elf & a speedy dwarf in the center of the room.

At the moment, it looked like the elf would win this, but I know better than to assume by appearance.

After all, just because you have muscles & height on your side doesn't mean you're guaranteed to win! A fact you learn from personal experience in the ring.

"C'mon shrimpy, aren't ya gonna fight me, or are ye to chicken!" The cocky elf taunted breathily.

He's been exerting himself to land a hit on the dwarf and was beginning to tire. I knew this was coming. Like every other match like this, the larger, stronger competitor always tried to win with brute strength. Simultaneously, the 'weaker' would use their brains—an uncommon strategy amongst most fighters.

Until now, the long-bearded dwarf had been on the defensive; however, seeing his opponent tiring, they switched to aggressive attacks!

Without warning, the dwarf knocks the elf's legs, pins him to the ground and presses an arm down tightly across his throat! In a blink, the muscular elf taps out!

The end bell rings, "WINNER! Brutis Dofenouse!"

I smirk confidently and stand from my stool.

"Stick around, folks; the next matchup is a doozy! Not so senior fighter Brockets Partriche against upcoming champion Lilith Smok!-"

I tune out the rest of the announcement as I walk to the betting booth, hidden from view at the back of the bar.

I step behind the curtain and pull out my betting card, handing it to the clerk behind the counter. The female Draco looks at it before turning around, picking up a small bag of crowns and giving it to me.

I take the leather pouch into my scared, tan hands & open it to inspect its contents, going as far as to take a few out to check if they're real. Confirming that they're real, I thank the clerk and put the money into my pack before walking back to the counter.

"Oye, Marcetta! C'n I get another shota' Moonbloom, in a new glass, please?" I called one of the bartenders standing nearby.

Let's just say I don't trust the people in this place not to spike an abandoned drinking glass.

The shifter nods and grabs a clean glass.

Minutes later, a new glass is placed in front of me, fresh whiskey resting inside.

"Thank ya' kindly, Mar,"

I take the cup and toss back the burning sweet liquid.

The next match I have a bid on isn't for another 30 minutes, so I head to the restroom to freshen up.

I notice a group of marauders crowded outside a door on the way.

"... if the kid doesn't win the tournament this year, I think it's best we do away with 'em…."

That caught my attention.

I pause just past the edge's corner and slowly peer down the hallway. There were many different species, from ogres to elves to griffins and others I don't recognize.

A few elves seemed to have come from the North, having lighter skin & hair, while others seemed to be from the South, having skin a bit darker than my own and dark coloured hair.

I didn't stick around long enough to hear much else. Still, what little I did hear, someone from the group was competing in the fight rings today, and inevitably, the tournament.

Once in the bathroom, I step up to the sink and turn on the tap. I cup my hands under the flow of water, allowing them to fill up before splashing the cold liquid to wash away the day from my face.

Regardless of outward appearance, I'm a mess compared to who I was in my previous life.

From high-class Elvan princess to low-class hybrid peasant! I've no real job; most money from reserves I snatched from my room before running away. Some are from odd jobs I pick up while travelling. The rest comes from participating in illegal events, such as the fight rings.

Despite the hardships, I wouldn't change a thing. I am free to do what I want; when I want, & how I want. No one can take that right away from me!

At first, I had felt resentful towards my parents as they'd been willing to kill me because I thought differently. Still, I know that escaping that place was for the best.

I examine my reflection, eyeing the scars that littered my face and trying to recall where some of them had come from.

My appearance has changed a lot in 5 years.

The most significant difference, a long scar from above my right eye to the top of my left ear. The wound came from one of my first fights in the ring. It had been a jagged, bloody mess that nearly cost me my sight & hurt like hell & burned with an agony that I've not felt in a long time.

Now, it's nothing but a memory, only a long, shallow dip that no longer caused any pain.

My eyes have also grown dark & heavy overtime, with noticeable under-shadows from restless nights spent lying awake.

I've also developed more highlighted streaks in my shoulder-length hair as I've grown older. I used to have long, flowing hair, a prideful mark for the elven people. However, it was more of a hindrance after I ran away, so I cut it to the scalp.

I'm much taller now as well, at least 6' tall last I checked.

After a few more handfuls, I turn off the tap and reach into my bag for my lip bomb.

Despite being a member of royalty, Daria never wore a lot of makeup. Even as a little girl, she never bothered to wear any, given the young princess was never looking to stand out or impress people. However, the lip bomb had been a birthday gift from her youngest brother, Chandr. He, unfortunately, passed away 7 years ago from an unknown virus.

Once applied, I placed the cosmetic back into my bag and walked out of the bathroom.

'Still, a while b'fore th' match starts, I should likely grab a bite, else I'll get drunk.' I think to myself.

I made my way back to the bar and asked for a menu, plus a glass of water. I receive both, opening the menu to look at my options. A moment later, I called over the bartender,

"C'n I get a roasted unicorn horn wi' a side o' deep-fried mushrooms on birch bark, please?"

"Certainly, ma'am, will that be everything?"

"Aye, that's everything, th'nk ya," I reply, handing the menu back to them.

The bartender nodded, quickly scribbled down the order before walking back to the kitchen.

I turn to look around the room.

While travelling, the Red Devil is a regular stop for me; it's my favourite underground club to stop into. Not only was it entirely under the radar from the government, but it also had some of the best fight rings on the continent!

Even though fight rings are considered illegal as it promotes inter-species violence and unsupervised drinking & interaction, they are widespread.

Suddenly, the speaker screeches and everything settles down for a brief, blissful moment until a high-pitched voice plays.

"Hey, folks, just a heads up that sign-ups for this year's fight ring tournament season start next week!-"

The crowd explodes with whooping cheers and whistles!

"Make sure your forms & money are ready cause it closes at noon at the end of the week. Standard rules & regulations apply; 18 years & up only, bring your ID to check-in.

Furthermore, no applications are accepted before or after the sign-up period, & most importantly, no taunting outside the ring! Anyone who breaks the rules will be disqualified or banned from the event!-"

Low mutters wisp across the crowd of people.

"As usual, the winner receives 5,000 crowns & a card for free beer & food from any club participating in the tournament. They will also have their photo taken with the club owners and the ring's ceremonial belt, which will be displayed in the club they represent!-"

More cheers erupt from the crowd.

"Sign-up forms are found at the betting booth in the back; the application fee for first-timers is 100 crowns. This includes health coverage for any medical expenses, as well as putting your name into our system and contributions to the winner's pot.

Returning fighters only pay 75 crowns for health coverage and their contribution to the pool.

Don't forget to pick up your forms today!"

'Aye, Tis that time o' year a'ready.'

I've entered this tournament two years in a row, neither time winning the big prize, losing to seasoned fighters. Still, I managed to make it to finals as the Red Devil's rep, and I'm ok with that, but I'm going for the big win this year.

Food arrives just after the announcement ends; I turn to eat, watching the current fight.

After finishing, I stand from the counter, leaving money for the meal & a tip, before walking back to the booth.

Quietly, I ask for a set of forms then head out to watch the end of the match.

As I walk up to the ring, something to the side of the room catches my eye. I turn to get a better view, and I see the marauders group from before, except now, there was a very large male orc with them. He was probably in the room the group was huddled in front of when I walked by.

The Orc was very tall, not quite my height, but close. He appeared to be a hybrid of some sort, not seen very often in orc communities. His hair was brown with several dark green stripes. Their skin is a dark greenish/bluish-grey and littered with scars, some looking fresher than others. His eyes appeared to be a dark colour, though I can't tell exactly what colour from this distance. If I were to wager a guess, I'd almost think he was part elven, given the length of his hair. Also, it might be my eyes playing tricks on me, but I swear there's something off about him. Kinda like when I use my morphing abilities, there was always something off about my appearance that I can never put my finger on. Regardless, I keep an eye on the group. Something about them seemed a little fishy.

I turn my attention back to the fight ring where the male griffin, Brockets, and the southern female elf, Lilith, are at a standstill, keeping each other at bay. Minutes go by, and nothing happens. It seems the fight will end in a draw as the timer counts down. Yet, suddenly, they break apart, and Brutis gets the jump on Lilith! He knocks her to the ground and secures her arm in a joint hold. After a moment of resistance from Lilith, she taps out.

*ding ding!* "Old man Brockets wins this round, folks! Better luck next time, Lilith!"

The crowd roars, some literally, with cheers! I check the time,

"Hey, we're gonna take a 10-minute breather, folks. When we're back, get ready for our final round of the day!

2-year club representative at finals, Zoka Adel vs. the current rookie champion, Meron Drakos! Don't forget to put in any final wagers to the booth before the match begins!"

I smirk to myself, thinking of the gullibility of some folks for believing my charade.

While it wasn't illegal to bid on yourself in these fight rings, it is highly frowned upon, especially when you've been in it for a while. So, being the brilliant individual I am, figured a way around that. I use my morphing abilities to change my outward appearance & vocal cords to a male version of myself, with a few added features, thanks to my fae half's magical ability. Thus creating my alter-ego, Zoka Adel.

I walk towards the hallway where I'd seen the marauders earlier and find the door with Zoka's name on it. I knocked on the door, making it seem like I was looking for someone, then subtly used my magic to open the door. I step inside the room, then close and lock the door, breathing a sigh of relief.

Usually, it's a challenge to get into the room, guards typically standing at either end of the short corridor, but today I lucked out. They weren't at their posts. I walk further into my room, drop my bag on the couch, and head to the washroom. I turn the tap on for the sink and quickly wash off anything that might reveal my identity from my face & arms. Once that's done, I pull out my quick-dry hair chalk and start applying the powdery substance to my coloured strips of hair.

The only things that my morphing ability can't change; my magical traits. My hair and eyes remain the same no matter what appearance I take on, as the ability to morph is yet another form of magic. The two magical forces cancel each other out. My solutions to these… problems... are special chalk that dries immediately & only comes out using the soap that comes with it and a pair of coloured contacts.

I finish applying the chalk, then pull out my contacts and carefully put them in my eyes.

"There." I speak to no one in particular," now for the easy part." I step away from the mirror & close my eyes, drawing my powers forward and focusing on what I want to look like.

After a moment, I feel the familiar tingling of my body changing shape.

When the sensation passes, I open my eyes & look at my reflection in the mirror. My face has changed from long & narrow to more broad & angular. My hair is a few inches shorter, reaching just past my ear. I'm a couple of inches taller as well, now standing around 6' 3, thanks to my size-shifting magic. Another perk to being part fae! My skin is also darker than my usually cold, sandy colour skin tone.

I step away from the mirror, head to my bag, and grab my clothes. I slip off my dark blue leggings and dark purple wrap skirt, then pull off my black jacket and light pink top. I pick up the deep red, sleeveless top, slip it over my head, and then put on a pair of loose brown trousers. I stuff my regular clothes into my bag and put them in the bathroom, in a cupboard, so it's out of sight.

You know, in case someone else comes in here while I'm out.

I turn out the lights, unlock the door and step out of my room, shutting & locking it behind me.

As I walk down the hall, I watch the floor, notorious for stubbing my toe whenever I change forms. However, I'm so focused on the ground that I don't notice the person in front of me walking in the other direction. I bump into them and fall to the ground!

I look up and prepare to tell off whoever it was to watch where they're going, but my complaint dies in my throat when I see who ran into me.

It was the large male Orc from before!

"Oh spirits, I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going, please forgive me!" He suddenly blurted out, voice unexpectedly smooth & gentle.

I stare in shock!

No one, and I mean no one, has ever apologized like that to me, especially in this form. Ever!

I get to my feet and stand up; the Orc is below my eye level, likely putting him around 6ft, and his eyes are a dark brown with some flecks of gold scattered throughout the iris.

"It's ok; I've been hit harder than that before. Just watch where you're going next time." I retort in a calm but flat tone.

He nods slowly & continues down the hallway. I stare after him for a minute, watching him walk into one of the rooms. When he's out of sight, I turn around and continue on my path to the main room where the bar is.

I take a seat at the bar & wait to go in the ring—one of the waitresses sets down a glass of water next to my arm. I glance at her; she turns her head and winks, a silent sign that something is on the house around here. I nod and pick up the glass to take a drink.

After a couple of minutes, I set the empty glass on a passing bartender's tray and stand up. I trek over to the ring and start loosening up for the fight. Across the room, I see the male Orc I ran into doing the same.

'I guess he's this Meron character I'm supposed to be fighting. Seems like a newbie to me, but if he's won a lot of his matches, then he must be pretty good….'

My train of thought is cut off as the speakers come to life.

"Hey, folks! Only a few minutes remaining to place your bets, then it's time for the showdown of the evening, Zoka Adel V.S Meron Drakos! This one is going to be a doozy, folks!

'Guess I'll find out just how good he is, soon enough.'

After warming up a bit, I step up to the gate and wait for it to open.

*Ring ring* Here we go; this is for the big win today; we got a total bet of 1,097 crowns on Meron and a whopping 3,560 crowns for Zoka! Guess we know who the crowd favourite is, HA!"

The crowd chuckles,

"Now, the event everybody's been waiting for, the rookie against the seasoned, the brawn against the brain! ARE YOU READY!!" The crowd cheers.

"Fighters! Are. You. Ready!"

Meron raises his arms and lets out a thundering growl.

I raise an arm with a gravelly war cry.

"Open the gates!"