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PouchWell... It was over.
The tournament in Crocus had come to a close as quickly and suddenly as it started. The sixteen contestants who had been teleported to the town of Baska had given it their all. People from all different associations, both light and dark, made their way to the first annual martial arts tournament. Of the sixteen who were able to enter, the tournament had whittled itself down to two contestants.
On one end of the arena stood the behemoth, known only to Finn as Maarschalk. The name itself sounded like a beast he'd find in a dungeon, and the man himself was not too different. Cold, quiet, merciless- He shattered Finn's leg without hesitation, ending the fight in a single blow that came down to a test of experience. Finn had the advantage in all physical aspects- He was positive of that. He may not have been the size nor length of the man, but he was certainly stronger. He was built sturdier, he could run faster. He knew it.
He was sure of it.
Yet that hadn't been enough. He had given it his all, and his all fell short of the goal. His right leg had been snapped at the ankle, dealt in by a blow that Finn had deemed too weak and too slow to dodge. There were reasons behind his actions, of course. A drive to stand his ground. An urge to prove that he wouldn't have to back down from any opponent to win. He wanted to show himself that he could plant his feet down and move only forward, never backwards, to face any opponent who may come his way. He fought- And he lost.
Through that loss, the young man had found a way to expand his mind. His leg had broken, but his mind had finally begun puzzling itself together. Certainly there was something to be gained from defeat. Jake had told him that time and time again. One loss did not mean the end of ones life, not outside the confines of the forest. A tournament let one gauge where they stood, and then work to grow from there.
Finn stood near the peak. That much he knew. He looked down from his spot on the mountain and could see piles of men and women, climbing as if their life depended on it. Some of them had made settlements on their climb. Some of them had chosen to give up, long ago. Others didn't even realize that their journey had not progressed in year. Finn, however, had finally made it through the confines of the clouds. He had finally witnessed what it was that he thought lay out of reach.
What he had neared wasn't the peak. What he had finally placed himself at, after years of training and cultivating his body, was the base of the mountain. All this time, all this effort, had been spent to get him out of the valley below. Now, he finally stood on an even ground and could see before him what it was that truly lay ahead.
The path was long and arduous. It would force him to change who he was as a man. The words of his older brother rang in his head, truer now than ever before.
"Hey Finn, don't let it get you down. Sometimes, you lose. Sometimes you realize you weren't as tough as you thought you were. But you ain't dead. And that means that you can get better. So get better, Finn."
"How? I tried Jake. I thought I was finally strong enough to... I don't know. Just that I was strong enough. And I lost. He beat me in one hit, Jake. How can I be okay with that?"
"Because you tried, Finn. You fought, and you lost. But you're not dead. You can get better. And you're already good. Did you think that you'd be able to become the best just like that, man?"
"I don't know Jake, I... I just didn't think I'd suck that bad."
With a pat on Finn's side, closing his eyes and hugging his younger brother, Jake shook his head. "Sucking at something is the first step to becoming sorta good at something."
WC: 748/700
The tournament in Crocus had come to a close as quickly and suddenly as it started. The sixteen contestants who had been teleported to the town of Baska had given it their all. People from all different associations, both light and dark, made their way to the first annual martial arts tournament. Of the sixteen who were able to enter, the tournament had whittled itself down to two contestants.
On one end of the arena stood the behemoth, known only to Finn as Maarschalk. The name itself sounded like a beast he'd find in a dungeon, and the man himself was not too different. Cold, quiet, merciless- He shattered Finn's leg without hesitation, ending the fight in a single blow that came down to a test of experience. Finn had the advantage in all physical aspects- He was positive of that. He may not have been the size nor length of the man, but he was certainly stronger. He was built sturdier, he could run faster. He knew it.
He was sure of it.
Yet that hadn't been enough. He had given it his all, and his all fell short of the goal. His right leg had been snapped at the ankle, dealt in by a blow that Finn had deemed too weak and too slow to dodge. There were reasons behind his actions, of course. A drive to stand his ground. An urge to prove that he wouldn't have to back down from any opponent to win. He wanted to show himself that he could plant his feet down and move only forward, never backwards, to face any opponent who may come his way. He fought- And he lost.
Through that loss, the young man had found a way to expand his mind. His leg had broken, but his mind had finally begun puzzling itself together. Certainly there was something to be gained from defeat. Jake had told him that time and time again. One loss did not mean the end of ones life, not outside the confines of the forest. A tournament let one gauge where they stood, and then work to grow from there.
Finn stood near the peak. That much he knew. He looked down from his spot on the mountain and could see piles of men and women, climbing as if their life depended on it. Some of them had made settlements on their climb. Some of them had chosen to give up, long ago. Others didn't even realize that their journey had not progressed in year. Finn, however, had finally made it through the confines of the clouds. He had finally witnessed what it was that he thought lay out of reach.
What he had neared wasn't the peak. What he had finally placed himself at, after years of training and cultivating his body, was the base of the mountain. All this time, all this effort, had been spent to get him out of the valley below. Now, he finally stood on an even ground and could see before him what it was that truly lay ahead.
The path was long and arduous. It would force him to change who he was as a man. The words of his older brother rang in his head, truer now than ever before.
"Hey Finn, don't let it get you down. Sometimes, you lose. Sometimes you realize you weren't as tough as you thought you were. But you ain't dead. And that means that you can get better. So get better, Finn."
"How? I tried Jake. I thought I was finally strong enough to... I don't know. Just that I was strong enough. And I lost. He beat me in one hit, Jake. How can I be okay with that?"
"Because you tried, Finn. You fought, and you lost. But you're not dead. You can get better. And you're already good. Did you think that you'd be able to become the best just like that, man?"
"I don't know Jake, I... I just didn't think I'd suck that bad."
With a pat on Finn's side, closing his eyes and hugging his younger brother, Jake shook his head. "Sucking at something is the first step to becoming sorta good at something."
WC: 748/700
