Draft #72 - War of Nerves
The biggest advantage one can have over an enemy is manipulation. Wearing down someone's mental defenses is the quickest way to victory. Of course, this only works on sentient species, as creatures tend not to listen to reason when attacking someone. In a short fight, taking the enemy by surprise is one of my favorite tactics. In a long-term war, however, emotional damage is far more impactful than ambushes.
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Rulshkka did not sleep a wink the night before the hatchling Competition was set. It was the most nervous he's ever been. Even stepping foot for the first time in the Pit had nothing on what he was feeling today.
Several weeks had gone by since he had managed to get limitations and safety measures into place for this Competition. They had ironed out all the details they needed to, and just because they could, ironed them out some more. Even the Competition, the one for the title of Vokkra, had been pushed to the back burner for this. Everyone was nervous, eager, to see just what the Council and he had in store for them.
And now, months after he had managed to get his proposal accepted, the hatchling Competition was upon them.
Usually, today was just like any other day for Rulshkka. Only, he would need to spend most of his day at the Pit, watching hatchlings wrestle and fight each other into submission. He had never witnessed a hatchling die during his tenure - only four Competitions had happened since his crowning, after all - and as such, had never taken to watching the Competition with much care. There was no one he knew in the Pit, and he would only meet the winner of the Competition briefly, handing out the monetary prize, exchanging a few words, and be done with it all.
Really, the only thing that hatchling Competition reminded him of was his own childhood, and he hated thinking about that more than he needed to.
Plus, this was the event that foreshadowed his own Competition. He would compete in a month's time. He always had bigger things to think about than this small event.
Though, it was much larger than the small event he had attended in his youth. In the past, the arena they had used had been much smaller - not many hatchlings had participated. But as interest and population grew, they moved their Competition to the Pit. It was easier to set up the Pit for the real Competition, held only a month later, if all the preparations for it had been done already. The hatchling Competition was a good warm-up for the arena.
But no longer. With his requirements in place, this Competition was bound to be much more enjoyable, hopefully, for all parties involved.
As soon as the sun peeked through the trees on his estate and it was deemed reasonable for him to be awake, he was out of bed. He rummaged through his clothing, pushing away some of Thruul's in order to find more of his. He had little clue what to wear. Should he wear the silver outfit with white adornments, to make the jewelry he would wear? Or should he be brash and wear his family's colors to support Nohkka?
He grabbed the closest garment - some silvery-white tunic with tinges of blue on the edges - and decided it would be the best compromise he could hope for. He turned around and yelped in fright when he found Thruul standing in the doorway.
"By the Spirits, Thruul!" he said scornfully, unable to help the small smile curling on his face at the sound of Thruul's laughter. "You nearly killed me in fright."
"The mighty Vokkra, slain by his beloved on the dawn of the hatchling Competition. How poetic," Thruul said dryly, pushing past him to pick out his own clothing for the day. Rulshkka shed his sleeping clothes and started to dress himself when he heard rapid thumping up the stairs.
YOU ARE READING
The Autobiography Of An Alien
Science Fiction!! Sequel to In Search of Home. If you haven't read that, you'll be a little confused! !! After the humans invaded - somewhat; it was his fault, really - his planet, they left a gaping hole in his heart. It took the form of one Kohgrash. Rulshkka ha...
