Draft #67 - The Competition
Trembling claws, gnashing teeth, and steadfast glares fill the Pit. The first time I had witnessed a Competition had been long ago - centuries, now - and every time I must step claw into the sandy wastes, I still feel as small as I did back then. There is no describing the feeling of tremulous awe that fills your entire being as you realize that this is the cumulation of your entire life.
There are only two options in the Pit: life or death. It is a gamble that the Vokkrus play, vying for your life in your very own claws. You can be strong enough to win, or you can face death with the cold certainty that you have lost.
I do not ever intend to lose.
***
The sun had long since set, casting his office into shadow. The only light in the room originated from his computer, solemnly displaying all that he longed to avoid. His eyes burned as he stared at the screen, watching the holographic words shimmer and flicker in front of him. He felt an odd sense of displacement - as if he weren't meant to be there.
>> Rukka: Needs approval ASAP. Get it to me by the end of the week. File attached.
Or else, was left unsaid, but Rulshkka can read between the lines, contrary to popular belief.
A huff of breath escaped him, interrupting the sullen silence that blanketed the room. Rulshkka leaned back in his chair, hearing it groan in protest. He stretched, an involuntary growl escaping his throat at the movement.
He returned to his slouch - hunched over his desk in a position that had started to ache three hours ago. He stared balefully at the screen before he gathered enough energy to click the file attachment.
Hatchling Competition Details
His sigh filled the room, louder than before. He quickly glanced at his slumbering companion to ensure he hadn't woken before returning his attention to the unassuming file. He glanced over the details. It all seemed to be in order.
If he were honest with himself, which he was often not, Rulshkka could admit that he hated this part of it all. Hosting the Competition was a lot of work, but at least it all culminated in his victory. The hatchling Competition was nothing but bitter heartache for him. A reminder of what should have been his and what never will be.
The office door creaked open, and Kohgrash, slumbering on the seat with his work sprawled on his lap, quickly jerked awake.
"Whazzit?" he grumbled in his half-awake state, sitting up and spilling the contents of his lap onto the floor. The muffled thump pulled him further into consciousness, and he stared, uncomprehendingly, at the pile of papers and electronics.
"Rulshkka?" Thruul said, poking his head into the doorway. The light was soft behind him, lighting him in a soft halo of warmth. "Oh, little beast, did I wake you?"
Kohgrash smacked his lips, running his tongue over his teeth. "What-," he cracked a yawn, "what time's'it?"
"It's been seven hours since the star has set," Thruul said kindly, stepping into the room to pick up Kohgrash's belongings. The human stood still for a moment before he started helping. "You two were so quiet in here that I wanted to check on you."
"Mmmh," Kohgrash hummed, still groggy from his unexpected pull from sleep. "Vok'Rul?"
"Here," Rulshkka murmured from behind his desk. He pulled his eyes away from the multi-page document. "I'm sorry I did not keep track of time, my little Kohgrash. Your back must be sore."
"Well, now it is," Kohgrash grumbled, gathering his things in his arms. "I'm gonna go to bed. See you guys tomorrow."
"Goodnight," Thruul responded. Rulshkka grunted in response. Kohgrash grumbled back at him before he left the room, heavy-footed and slow.
Thruul turned to him, then, looking displeased. Rulshkka smiled sheepishly at him.
"I lost track of time," he tried to defend himself. "Rukka-"
"-would kill you herself if you run yourself ragged," Thruul huffed, walking around his desk and tugging him to his feet. Rulshkka protested feebly, gesturing vaguely to the computer. "It can wait until morning. You need sleep."
Rulshkka could admit that he'd likely get nothing done the more he worked into the night, but it didn't erase the curl of nervous anxiety that sat idly in his gut, begging him to do something. Still, he could not say no to his beloved, and so he relented with a sigh, "You are right. Of course, you're right."
Thruul smiled at him before pushing him out of the office. "Let's go to bed, then."
Rulshkka smiled back, offering his arm, "Shall we?" Thruul took it, and he was glad, not for the first time, that he was no longer alone.
***
"So what's got you off the deep end?" Kohgrash asked him over lunch the next day.
Rulshkka looked up from his computer. His plate of food lay untouched on his desk. Well, perhaps not untouched. Kohgrash had finished his own plate and had taken to stealing some scraps off his. "What deep end?"
Kohgrash waved his hand flippantly, "It just means you're irritated. Figure of speech. Why the grumpy expression?"
Rulshkka smoothed his expression out. He hadn't realized he held such a vexed countenance. "Ah. It's the hatchling Competition."
Kohgrash tilted his head in such a way that made Rulshkka smile slightly. "Well, what's wrong with it? It's coming up soon, isn't it? Always a few weeks before the Competition."
He heard some of the nervousness that lingered in Kohgrash's tone. He wondered if he should feel slighted by the fact that his friend did not believe that he would win his fifth Competition smoothly, but figured that if their roles were reversed, he'd be worried, too.
The hatchling Competition was something he had never enjoyed as a hatchling himself. Combined with the bitter feelings of resentment he had toward the event itself, the fact that his own niece was going to be competing in it for the first time made him all the more apprehensive to approve the details.
The hard work had been finished for him. It was one of several perks he got to enjoy with Rukka as his advisor. He knew that she would make sure - doubly so, since it was her hatchling particpating in the event - that nothing would be able to harm any of the hatchlings. All he needed to do was read over the documents, fix anything that needed to be fixed - dates, vendors, or age ranges, usually - and sign off with his seal of approval.
But the documents were difficult to read, plagued as he was by his own memories of the hatchling Competition. In previous years, he had barely looked at it. He supposed that with Nohkka's participation and possible injury, he was frightened.
He was a Vokkrus, he reminded himself firmly. A Vokkra, of all things. This was their culture. And while he knew that Nohkka would excel - perhaps not win, but certainly excel - he couldn't help but wonder if there really had to be a Competition for the young ones.
He may be Vokkra, but he knew that even hinting the abolishment of the Competition would not go over well. He'd likely lose any credibility he had left. It had taken a rather large blow when he had admitted that the mammals were not, in fact, mere animals. Still, their introduction to the Alliance had taken some of that bruised pride and soothed it when their trade had increased their profits.