Two flames, one spark

That potion we had bought with Sacres burned as it went down my throat, a viscous liquid that tasted like rotten mint. I felt the wounds on my shoulder and thigh tingle as they closed, the health bar rising from an agonizing red to a precarious yellow. “You've used up half your supplies in a single fight.” said the HUD on my face. Seeing that, I threw the virtual glass bottle against the rock. The sound echoed in the empty cave. Noelia was gone, but her words remained, “Crudeness is the only language that doesn't burn me.” The phrase was a lash that still burned.

I shuffled out. Every shadow between the fang-shaped rocks made me cringe. I wasn't a hero. Just a kid who played Altverse to escape school hallways where laughter was a weapon, and a home where silence was another form of screaming. Why did I agree to this tournament, to prove that I'm still the one who always hides?

I was lost in my thoughts, so I couldn't hear what was stalking me. By the time I realized it, it was too late. I heard a metallic squeak. I turned around slowly, my heart pounding in my throat.

That plant-based monster exhaled, forming an amber cloud that approached me dangerously, burning everything in its path. It didn't manage to touch me, but its proximity was enough to reduce my health to five percent.

I tried to defend myself by launching one of my best attacks. A green flame appeared in my right hand, which I threw at the monster, but my fire was useless; it did nothing to it.

A message appeared on the HUD: “Attack ineffective, we recommend changing skills.”

So I did what I knew best.

I ran away.

I ran, I stumbled, but it seemed that it wasn't enough. That creature caught up with me easily. All I could do was fall to my knees. I wanted to move, but my body betrayed me.

The creature's jaws opened wide above me. The smell of sour sap reminded me of the alcohol on my tormentors' breath.

And then.

— HEY, FLOWER! — roared a voice from above.

A shadow fell from the tip of a stone fang. Hair red as fresh lava, bristling in defiant spikes. Honey-colored eyes that burned with an inner fire. His black sleeveless jacket flapped open, revealing muscles defined by effort, not genetics. Tight black pants and combat boots. — YOUR TIME IS UP, WEED! — he roared.

His right fist burst into orange flames. A well-aimed blow.

That impact hit the base of the stem. The flower howled, writhing, but its roots clung on. The red-haired boy jumped back, dodging a petal-saw that sliced through the air where his head had been. — You! Get up and run to the rock tunnel! — he ordered me without looking at me, focused on the floral beast that was regenerating its stem.

I crawled, trembling. — W-why...? — I stammered, watching that battle that was beyond my physical and mental capabilities.

He dodged another attack, his flaming fist striking a petal.  — Because dying alone sucks! Now MOVE! — he shouted, throwing a flaming hook at a jaw. But the flower became enraged. Its roots sprang from the ground like oak snakes, entangling the redhead's ankle.

 — Damn it! — He struggled, his flames weakening as they touched the corrosive sap. The main mouth opened above him, an abyss of spikes.

No!, no! Not another person paying for my weakness! I wanted to scream, to move, to do something. But fear pinned me to the ground. I could only watch, paralyzed, as the jaws descended on that boy. But I noticed something: that boy didn't scream, he smiled. A fierce smile. — YOU THOUGHT IT WAS EASY?! —

With a roar, he concentrated all his firepower on his free foot. I saw an orange explosion light up the area. The root burst into green splinters. He rolled to one side just as the teeth closed on empty air.   — LAST ROUND! — he howled. His fists merged into a ball of fire the size of a bull. And then.

The impact vaporized the shiny pistil. The giant flower disintegrated into green pixels and a smell of burnt forest.

Ken gasped, wiping sap from his face. — They almost turned me into compost, brother. — He held out his hand. — Ken, Ikal Ken. And you, new spectator? —

— A-Asimil. — I said, taking his hand. It was like grabbing a hot iron bar. Why was he smiling? Didn't he care that I almost died because of my clumsiness?.

—  Team? — he asked, as if offering coffee. —  Only fools or the strong walk alone here. I'm the latter. You... well, you can be the charismatic one on the team. — 

— I'm low level... — I admitted, looking at the floor. — I only got in because of a ‘friend.’ —
Enemy? Debtor? What is Noelia now?.

Ken laughed, a sound that scared away virtual birds. — The level is just an excuse! What matters is this. — He tapped his heart.  —And you... you're lucky. And I need luck! —

I just didn't get it.

I guess now I owed this new guy who stood up for me a favor.

We walked. He talked about training at the Infernal Lava Gym, about punches that broke virtual shields. I kept quiet, remembering the teasing when I tried to exercise in real life (“Look, that fat guy wants muscles!”). He was everything I couldn't be: confident, physical, direct. But he didn't push me. He didn't laugh at my worn-out armor.

Although that bubble of bad thoughts quickly disappeared thanks to Ikal, I couldn't stop talking about him the whole way home. He wanted to be the best in the gym; he was simply in a different world from mine.

But in the end, he didn't seem like a bad guy.

Could he really become like him someday?