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[right][sub][Color=FFA500]Location: Coliseum[/color][/sub][/right]
Rikki would always pick summer over winter. There was something about the way Camp Jupiter eased into the warmer months that made the whole place feel lighter. The training fields still rang with the sound of sparring blades, and the watch rotations never stopped, but there was a looseness in the air. Legionaries lingered at the mess hall tables. Some sat around playing dice games in the shade. It was as if the entire camp exhaled after enduring another brutal winter.

Winter had always meant stricter routines, longer drills, and a relentless drive to sharpen every edge. It was good for discipline, yes, but it felt like being crushed under the weight of endless expectations. Rikki tolerated it, but they never thrived in it. Summer, on the other hand, allowed them to breathe.

That breath did not last long. Rikki had been voluntold to represent the Second Cohort in the solstice duels. Nobody had sat them down to say so directly, but the order arrived all the same. Rikki suspected Kyros. It felt like something they would do — a quiet push to grow, wrapped in the form of a challenge. Or maybe it was revenge for the bathroom incidents. Portal-locking the doors had become Rikki’s favourite privacy trick, but it left more than a few legionaries stranded in towels and sandals in the middle of the mess hall. Privacy solved. Dignity not included.

The announcement of the duelling brackets came in the coliseum. The air buzzed with chatter, coins exchanged hands in advance bets, and the names of competitors echoed against stone. Rikki listened, caught their own, and felt a knot form in their stomach. Luka. Not Kyros. Not Cassian. Luka.

Was that better or worse? Hard to say. Luka was a centurion, a living example of Roman heroism, and one of the best fighters in camp. It was like being asked to outshine the sun. Rikki usually amused themselves by peeking at the betting odds, even wagering a coin or two. This time they looked away. Better to not see just how badly the world expected them to fall.

Their match opened the day. First up. Rikki figured it was merciful scheduling. The crowd could laugh, enjoy the warm-up, then get on with the serious duels. They walked into the arena braced for humiliation.

[b]And yet, somehow, they won.[/b]

It was not graceful. It was not clean. Kyros and Cassian would have pages of notes if they had been watching closely. But it was victory. Rikki slid backward into portals, looping behind Luka, striking once, then stepping back in before Luka could fully turn. The tactic bought precious seconds. When Luka began adapting, Rikki’s precognition sparked to life. A glimpse. A whisper of the attack that was coming. That single warning was enough. They shifted their footing, redirected the strike, and forced the surrender.

For those few minutes, Rikki felt unstoppable. They felt whole. There was no hesitation, no gnawing doubt, only the rhythm of movement and decision flowing one into the other. The crowd roared. They stood tall. And for a heartbeat, Rikki believed they belonged.

[b]The second fight shattered that illusion.[/b]

Decision paralysis was always hardest to explain to others. It was as though the world split into too many paths, and every one of them demanded consideration. Block or slip left. Slip right or jump. Portal or intercept. Slide or stand. The options stacked until movement died. Rikki froze. Against Alex and Cassian, that was fatal. They never even mounted a counterattack.

Elimination stung. Rikki drifted outside the coliseum, the sound of cheers muffled by stone. They leaned against the wall, chest tight, tears stinging. Twelve years of service, yet their record of quests paled beside veterans like Luka and Kyros. Too unreliable. Too prone to failure. Had they earned their place in the Second Cohort at all, or had they been promoted out of pity, a reward for longevity rather than merit?

The thoughts clawed at their chest. They gripped the fabric of their tunic and tried to steady their breath. Tears welled. Anxiety pressed in, suffocating. For a moment they wanted to let it spill out.

But they did not.

[color=FFA500]“Legionaries do not cry”[/color] they whispered, pressing the storm down into themselves, forcing their spine straight. They wiped their eyes with the back of their hand, turned, and walked back through the gates.

The rest of the day passed in the stands. They watched Cassian claim the legionnaires’ duel, then the veterans take the field. Watching them fight was strange. Rikki could retire this year if they wished. On paper that put them at the same level. Yet as Avery, Rex, Gigi, and Noah traded blows, the idea of standing among them felt absurd. They were titans. Rikki was not ready.

After the veteran bracket was concluded, Rikki stayed around for the renactment. Rikki was hoping maybe they could learn something about tactics. However the real reason that they stayed in the coliseum was to avoid Kyros and the chance of possibly getting chewed out in some way for not winning, even though they had scored higher in the bracket than Kyros.