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Everything aches.
At the very least, Tiso is lucky he isn’t dead. He is lucky his armor was strong enough to protect him from not only the challengers from the Colosseum, but also to cushion him from the fall of being disposed like worthless garbage. Or, that’s what he should be feeling. But he does not. In fact, he felt more embarrassed than relieved to be lying in the ashen middle of nowhere with only his shame and the quiet hovering of the Booflies to keep him company.
Get up, Tiso tells his body, but his limbs were too numb to comply.
Fine, whatever. All warriors needed a rest after a hard battle anyway, even if the battle was just him getting unfairly stomped by some Mawlek and his pride trashed by the resounding laughter of the audience.
He’ll sleep for a minute or two or maybe ten — it’s not like he had anywhere he needed to be. Hallownest was a deserted ghost-kingdom. He’ll rest, and then he’ll get up and train. Train harder. Train so that the next time he sets foot in the colosseum, he’ll be overlooking the spectators as the new champion and the old champion thrown out.
But it seems he wasn’t even allowed tranquility, for the sound of nimble footsteps jolts him straight up despite the pain. He fumbles for his shield; eyes focused on spotting the intruder.
Just as he was about to shout, to threaten, a small figure clad in a cloak as dark as the moonless night appears before him.
The Knight.
Possibly the last thing he wanted to see right now. Though it had never once said a word to him, he can imagine it laughing at him. Surely it must have seen his pathetic defeat. If he could, he would kill it right now.
But the Knight does nothing of that sort. Instead it decides to sit right next to Tiso.
“Urk, what are you…” Tiso immediately retracts his arm to make room for the Knight. Its long horns slightly touches against a tender part of his body exposed from his cracked armor. He refrains from making any comment for he did not want to show any more weakness to the Knight.
“Hmph, as usual I can’t tell what you’re thinking, Pale One. Surely, you must have better things to do?”
The Knight shakes its head, seemingly content on just sitting there with him. The little bug would always react with gestures of the sort when Tiso saw it, but at least it was preferable to speaking. Tiso hated loud bugs and useless chatter.
“… Did you win the trials?” It’s not something Tiso wanted to know if he was to be honest. But he had seen the Knight enter the trials just a bit later than him, and now it stands before him seemingly unscratched. What he wanted to hear was the Knight forfeiting, if only to heal a little bit of his pride, but he grimaced when met with a vigorous nod.
“Even the Trial of Fools?”
The Knight nods again.
“Hmm… well… good for you,” the last part comes out a bit strained but still audible enough for the Knight to hear, who stared back intently at him. It hops in place three times in succession. Weird. Maybe it really was mocking him?
Tiso didn’t doubt the Knight. Just the fact that the Knight reached the Colosseum already told him it was strong enough to brave through the desolate cliffs to get there. Or gotten lucky. Either of those two things. It was possible the Knight could have been lying, but it didn’t seem to be the type despite how little interactions they’ve had before. And he did watch the Knight fight, only briefly as he was waiting for his own trial to start, and the Knight seemed to effortlessly glide through the air with its nail in hand.
He almost wanted to ask if the Knight saw his “fight” with the Mawlek, and if it was cheating for the Mawlek to enter the way it did, but he decided to not relive through that memory again.
Wait.
A thought pops up in his mind. The Knight is now the new champion. He must now face the Knight when he partakes in the arena again. The Knight is now his rival.
He wants nothing more in that moment than to cradle his head between his knees and scream.