The Brothers Betrayal

The roar of the crowd filled Vasily’s ears as he looked at the straight wide path in front of him, he knew the other 20 remaining contestants must be doing the same. A race wasn’t what he had expected but it did fall in line with the individual nature of the games, and it made the judges work a lot easier than the arts rounds that they had previously. He looked to his left to see a young man close in age shaking uncontrollably.

“Hey,” Vasily said. “It’ll be fine just do your best, we’re all here for our people anyway and it’s not like a race will kill you.”

The man stopped for a moment and looked at him with wide eyes. “The rumors, there are rumors that contestants who don’t make it are killed!”

Vasily shook his head. “They’ve never done that in the past Contests, why do it now?”

“You don’t understand,” the shook man croaked. “This time it’s supposed to serve as extra motivation, we really are here to be slaughtered for the Emperor…”

Vasily thought about this as he looked out at the track stretching away from him. The guards were bringing large objects with straps and placing them behind each contestant. Were they expected to run while carrying something so heavy?

“I talked to a few of my friends on the outside during the breaks between past games,” the scared man continued. “They said the Districts didn’t receive their Champion back this time, everyone thinks the losers are being killed.”

Now this added a whole new layer of pressure to deal with, as he not only had his District’s resources riding on the results of each Game but apparently his life as well. Vasily noticed his hands trembling and caught himself. No he was here to win and as long as he kept on winning he wouldn’t die. He took a deep breath and watched as a guard placed the heavy sack behind him and gave him instructions on how to put it on.

“Loyal subjects of Shican!” Emperor Roland’s voice boomed out from his seat, far higher and separate from the rest of the common crowd. “I welcome you to another one of the games, I hope you’ve enjoyed the ones we have had so far!”

The crowd cheered in response, but Vasily knew it wasn’t entirely genuine. Roland was a tyrant but he was proving to be even worse than usual lately. There’d been rumors of how his sons were sickly and likely not going to make it, which considering the Emperor’s old age meant that he had no true heir who could inherit the kingdom of Shican.

“Some of you may have heard rumors,” Roland continued. “And I would like to confirm the facts…”

The crowd waited silently, wondering what new arbitrary punishment this power hungry man would pass and on whom.

“The losers of the past games in this year’s Contest are indeed executed,” he called out. “Now this may seem unfair but I think it’ll serve to motivate the remaining players to be better, and the Districts who lost players have been further compensated as well.”

The guards started beating the drums in response to this and the crowd, despite being horrified before, reluctantly started cheering again.

“It’s the least I could do for them considering the effort and resources that are spent every year by each District to produce a suitable Champion for the Contest! And of course as always the winners of each game, their district will continue to receive a surplus of rations for this year!”

Vasily finished strapping on the heavy gear onto his back and saw the scared man next to him was struggling. He stepped over, struggling to balance himself with the pack on his back and helped the man get the straps on properly. A few of the guards had tensed up but they relaxed once Vasily stepped back into his starting position.

“Thank you, my name is Waylon,” the man finally introduced himself and got ready for the race. “I hope you do well and that we both make it.”

“I’m Vasily, and yeah I hope to see you at the finish line.”

They both left unsaid the reality of the Contest that was inescapable. Even if they did survive every single round and got through, the final round would force them to compete till only one survived.

Vasily adopted a crouched position, some of the other contestants were doing the same while some just remained standing. He hoped the extra push off would give him the momentum needed to carry him through the race. As his eyes scanned the rest of the players he saw one of them looking at him intently. That man, Deimos, was a few years older than him and had come first in most of the games played so far. Everyone thought he would win it all.

Well he would have to go through Vasily first. Deimos looked away and stared forward at the track.

“Oh and for this race, it’s simple you have to carry the load to the finish line and the last 2 players will be eliminated,” the Emperor explained. “And also there are some snakes hidden in the ground so be on the look out for those!”

Vasily looked at the ground in panic trying to catch sight of any of the scaly creatures but he couldn’t see any, maybe they were further down the track. He wore the standard sandals that all the players had been given but whether they offered his feet any protection from snakes trying to bite was debatable.

Waylon whimpered next to him as the king’s guard rolled out the cannon.

“Let the race…” the king paused as the cannon was prepared. “...BEGIN!!”

The cannon was fired and all the contestants took off.

***

Deimos watched carefully, the wild cat that weighed more than 3 times his own bodyweight was walking slowly in front of him. They were in a dark forest that had been arranged specifically for this game. He kept an eye out for any of the other 5 contestants that had made it this far after the last few. There were only 4 of these giant cats released into the forest and the requirements of the game were to subdue one in the allotted time. The area was thankfully gargantuan and he hoped the others were far enough away to not get in the way of his hunt.

The cat stopped and he froze. It raised its head and looked left and right before glancing back while he buried himself in the nearby brushes hoping it didn’t notice and that the strong stink of the marsh he’d found earlier was enough to mask his own scent. “Smart idea I think,” he muttered to himself as he lay as quietly as possible. “Worth walking with this stink everywhere so this stupid cat doesn’t notice.”

Finally the beast decided to meander along the dark path and he crept closer, picking up the pace while making sure to avoid stepping on any branches or leaves that might give him away. He could almost reach out and grab the cat’s tail if he wanted to, but its giant claws were enough to scare off even the most hardened warrior.

Deimos wrapped his arms in the protective cloth they were given, he imagined others would use it to maybe tie the cats up but he had a different idea. As the cat began to slow down and its ears perked up he knew he had to go for it now.

Lunging out of the brush from behind he grabbed the cat around its thick neck. His eyes were drawn to the sun, only a few more minutes left in the game which was key. The cat tried to sidestep away from him but he’d anticipated that and pushed his weight down to get on top of it. The beast snarled and thrashed against him but he kept a tight grip on its neck and kept his face back so that it couldn’t turn its head to bite him.

After a few minutes it stopped struggling and finally its eyes started to close. “Well that was easy,” Deimos whispered as he heard the game ending alarm go off.

The Emperor’s guards walked up to him and gave him a nod before towing the animal away. He was pointed towards a platform in the center of the forest where the other contestants were waiting, some seemed bloodied.

I wonder if he made it, Deimos thought to himself then sighed in relief when he saw Vasily. Before the guards reached them he snuck up on the younger man.

“Your last name is Weiss and you grew up in District 11 right?” Deimos said, stepping back as Vasily spun in shock with his arms up.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

“I think we may be connected in ways you don’t yet understand,” Deimos began to explain but was cut off by the guards who finally arrived and began ushering them out of the arena.

***

A spacious ring was setup in the main arena for the final game, a duel to the death of the remaining two contestants. The Emperor was seated closer this time, as always for the final event. He clapped when seeing Vasily and Deimos walk into the circle.

“Now my loyal subjects we are down to the final two!” Roland called out as the crowd cheered. “Of course this is a duel to the death and while this arena may seem simple I have decided to add a twist this time.”

He clapped his hands and sections of the arena opened up to reveal boiling lava underneath, the crowd watched in awe. Vasily could feel the heat despite standing away from the pits in the ring which contained the lava, he saw Deimos look disturbed as well. This was not going to be an easy fight with this man, who had excelled at every game so far and seemed to have a keen interest in him.

“Enough talk!” the Emperor barked. “Let the fight… begin!”

Vasily dashed forward and swept his leg out underneath Deimos who calmly jumped and blocked all his punches with ease. For some reason the man was not fighting him back earnestly, what was wrong?

“Vasily, your father is Klaus Weiss am I right?” Deimos managed to get out while dodging every punch and expertly side stepping the kicks.

“How do you know that?” Vasily growled annoyed at how easily he was being blocked, it’s like Deimos knew his every move.

“Because…” Deimos caught his punch and leaned in close. “Klaus was my father, he escaped my District 4 and we thought he had died but after watching you so far I can tell you’re his son too.”

Vasily shook his head in disbelief. “No way, you’re just trying to get in my head to push me to make mistakes!”

He pulled back away from Deimos and adopted a strange stance that caused the Emperor to lean forward and watch closely.

“You don’t want to do this little brother,” Deimos sighed. “Or well half-brother I guess.”

Vasily launched his fastest attack, his fist carrying the hopes of his District as he aimed it for Deimos’s face. He was a blur that was hard to follow, the Emperor brought his hands together to get ready to clap.

But Deimos caught his fist and held him locked in place.

“Fist of Destruction, it’s one of our father’s special techniques,” Deimos whispered so none of the guards on the edges of the ring heard. “He showed it to me a few times before leaving us.”

Vasily pulled back and looked in shock before finally coming to the realization. “What do we do?”

“I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me,” Deimos said quickly as they exchanged a few more blows which allowed them to get close enough to talk.

“This is a crazy plan we both might die…” Vasily said before shaking his head and nodding. “But it could work.”

They both pulled away from each other and sat down with their legs crossed facing the Emperor who looked aghast. The crowd was confused and didn’t know what to cheer for as the minutes went by and neither of the brothers moved.

“What are you doing?” Emperor Roland roared. “Fight like men!”

Vasily and Deimos remained quiet, the guards near the Emperor began to move forward and onto the ring. They stopped a few feet away from both contestants and had their swords at the ready waiting for orders.

“Wait!” Roland called out. “I’ll deal with this myself.”

He got down from his platform and walked onto the ring, the citizens watching from the stands in awe as their Emperor decided to get involved in a simple duel directly.

“They deserve as much for this humiliating display,” the Emperor called out. “I will kill them personally for this disrespect.”

Roland made a big show of picking out one of his guard’s swords and stalked over closer to the seated duo. Once he was a few feet away Vasily twitched and looked over at Deimos who nodded.

Instantly both brothers sprang up to their feet and before the guards, who Roland had arrogantly left behind, could react Deimos assumed the same form Vasily had before. The Emperor opened his mouth to give an order and tried to bring his sword up but the words died in his throat as a twin Fist of Destruction hit him in the chest, both brothers perfectly coordinated, and sent him flying back.

His screams filled the ring as he fell back into one of the lava pits. The crowd in the stands started to celebrate and the guards all did their best to keep a control on the situation.

“Well that’s that, no heir so we’ll probably have a civil war,” Vasily said to Deimos with a smile.

“It’s needed for progress, especially after that barbaric fool,” Deimos replied.

They both ran at the guards stationed in the ring who didn’t have any chance of stopping the best fighters of the kingdom…