The Three Part Tournament - I

They were all gathered atop a cathedral. A ten-minute walk from the palace at hand. It was large and red. Pure, weathered stone. Composed of three tall towers at the front, themselves capped with large, swirling spires.

Out front was a statue of a man. Fifty metres tall. Hoisting a sabre, in his long, red tunic, with the name ‘Hankin’ inscribed in a plate beneath. Hankin The First. Hankin the Great. He who gave the gift of tongue and much more.

It was, unexpectedly, a cathedral in his name. Dedicated to a great king of an even greater past.

The Participants swallowed their breath. They were on the cathedral’s edge, just below the spire, a little platform overlooking the water beneath. Beneath them roared the river they would cross, thrashing and turning with rocks. It was an unnatural thing, far too fast, and far too dangerous to be any ordinary river. Conjured by one of the three boys for this very occasion. A triumph in natural architecture.

Jenn looked down. The crowd were already below. Gathered along the banks in dense squares, cameras set on all that would come to be.

“Remember, Jenn!” Cerica yelled. “When you wanna float—tongue kisses, and breast fondles! The closer you are, the greater the hydrodynamics!”

Jenn looked at her partner. Numarei was in a swimsuit. A one-piece with flowers all over. Then her eyes looked down. The two were bound by the ankle, a piece of rope that could not be broken under any circumstances.

It was also red. Kinda like the string of fate the Japanese loved so much. The string had to stay for the tournament. The first and most difficult watery part, at least.

Jenn eyed Numarei, checking her out with all the lecherousness of a hungover businessman.

“Good choice, Numa-chan.”

“What?”

“The one-piece. Very hydrodynamic. Stops your massive tits from flopping around, you know?”

“Can you break the ice any other way besides mentioning my very normal, average-sized boobs?”

“I can. But it wouldn’t be as funny.”

“I’m normal. I wear swimsuits when I swim. Why aren’t you in a swimsuit?”

Jenn was in her usual outfit.

“Think about it. Would you turn up in a swimsuit for a beach day?”

“Yeah.”

“How about the nice restaurant after? A nice izakaya, with some serious umami magic and good beer.”

“I’d change before that.”

“Yes, but?”

That was all it took. “Ok.” She glanced down at her swimsuit. “I’m gonna be wearing this for the whole thing.”

Jenn was laughing. “Yes.”

It was hard to tell if Numarei thought it was funny. Though she made no sign of displeasure. Unable to say anything more, the two turned their attention elsewhere, the other Participants at this occasion.

In a display of perhaps intentional irony, Mo Xixi and Filly were partners. The former, it seemed, was currently trying to convince the latter that mounting him was a good idea.

“The horses of Inner Mongolia could navigate the Yellow River like dolphins. No doubt—with your mighty body, you could very well do the same. Come! Let me mount you at once! Let us ride like two brothers under the peach tree!”

Filly shook his head. “I didn’t get a word of what you said. And I ain’t even gonna bother.”

There were other duos, of course. Strange unfathomable blends of aesthetics. One in particular caught Jenn’s eye. A tall ramshackle mech, with a cartoon dog by its heel, dangling mid-air due to the sheer disparity in height.

“Okay,” mumbled Jenn, imitating a breaststroke. “Like a hamster. “

“Like a hamster,” agreed Numarei. “What? Why hamsters? Can hamsters swim?”

Jenn smiled. “I used to have two small hamsters. And one day, they disappeared. My mom told me they found a rock, and broke out of their cages, to swim down the river. Hamsters are smarter than you think, Numa-chan. They have big brain-to-body ratios. 1:40, like humans.”

“Was this in the summer?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Jenn, your hamsters died of heatstroke. I don’t think they’re even smart enough to pick up rocks, much less swim.”

“What?”

“Alright,” yelled Abe Fornsworth, holding a gun. “Let the game be set!”

He fired a blank. All the Participants leapt from the great spire, diving a distance of 80 metres high. They hit the water in a chaotic splash.

“BLBUBUABUABUA BLBUAUB.” Jenn flailed above water. “KICKK!!!”

“I’m trying!” Floated Numarei. “But you keep—” She went underwater. “You keep pulling away!”

The river current pulled them along. Waves upon unnatural waves shoved them forth, stuffing their noses and mouths whenever possible. From a distance, they looked like two rats in a washing machine, tangled by tail, and struggling to keep above.

Mo Xixi had mounted the horseman, riding his humanoid figure as one would a horse. “Gallop, Filly, gallop! Be like the wind!”

The long-haired warrior kicked at Filly’s side. A flood of water came up the horseman’s nose, and they both fell beneath the water. Jenn offered one consoling look, but was elbowed back into awareness.

“A rock!”

“What?”

The two crashed straight into a rock.

“A pole!”

“What?”

The two crashed straight into a wooden pole.

“A grandma!”

“...What?” said the grandma, who possibly had alzheimers, and did not understand how she got there.

Numarei tugged hard, pulling Jenn out of the grandma’s way. The latter followed. Moved along with it. Attempting to remain in relative synch with her partner. It worked. For once, they did not bump into a rock, pole, or elder.

“Just follow me!” Numarei yelled.

She spun her hands like a wheel, going round and round again. It was something in the vein of a front crawl, albeit twenty times less efficient, and ten times more collateral. A mountain of water splashed Jenn, and she could not breathe for a moment.

That moment proved enough. In a burst of speed, Numarei’s arms became the divine embodiment of a watermill, propelling the two forward at a speed well over 32 metres per second.

Numarei continued to swim. A ripple in the water appeared ahead of them, a hole like a bathtub’s drain.

“Hello,” said the whirlpool named Alfred.

Jenn pushed her head up, air between her teeth. “Numa! Who are you talking to?”

Reply came in the form of a sudden pull, swirling them in a circle.

“Hi, it’s me, Alfred. I’m a talking whirlpool. Don’t ask me how it works. Actually, don’t ask me anything. It’ll make it a lot more painful as I’m trying to pull you under while simultaneously trying not to drown you. Just sort of shut your eyes, please. Alright, cheers.”

Numa’s expression curdled. Becoming something quite distressed. “I-I can’t swim against it!”

“My name’s Alfred,” replied the whirlpool. “Not ‘it’.”

Four more candidates were drawn into Alfred, surrendered to the same powerful force. Amongst them were Mo Xixi and Filly, the former, who had been pedalling with his spear.

“Alfred, you say?” said Mo Xixi, atop Filly. “You possess a most handsome rotation! Steady, and strong, just how I like it!”

The whirlpool seemed to slow. “R-really? Why, that’s the first time anyone ever said such a thing…”

“Let us pass, Alfred, and I shall name my next fishing rod after you! You will be honoured in blood, guts, and fish galore! Alfred the Indomitable. Alfred the slayer of bighead crap? How about it?”

The current stalled. Jenn breathed a gasp of much precious air.

“Really?” said Alfred.

“By my honour.”

They were released with a gentle heave, pushing them down the river current yet again. Jenn groaned a breath above. She coughed out a mouthful of water, then at once, felt herself pulled by Numarei.

At a little past five minutes, they came upon the end of the river. Jenn could feel it as she swam. The current was thinning. The number of random grandmas, down to zero.

Numarei panted. Her breath was waning, and her stamina too. She’d supported Jenn the whole way, and a little past that.

Up ahead, the river opened into a stone channel, little piles of rocks indicating little amounts of water. The duo climbed atop this solid ground. The first thing they did was pant and wheeze. Their skins were red and blistered, with both deep and shallow cuts, from rocks, poles, and Grandma (singular).

Jenn untied the rope, and looked at Numarei with sorry eyes. The road ahead wasn’t looking good. It was a path through the forest, narrow lanes flanked by tall stone walls on each side. It resembled one of those obstacle courses you’d see in a death game. Lane after lane of traps, giant overhead axes, arrow-spitting statues, and such.

Jenn bent down. She took Numarei upon her back and wormed her into place. The latter breathed a hard, after-workout breath and practically went immobile.

“You ready?”

Numarei didn’t answer. Not for a bit. “I’m spent. Totally.”

“Roger, roger.”