The Idoy Stormmaker Festival (Here he comes with a steel chair!)

In a matter of weeks, the front courtyard of Seaknot’s temple slowly became a spectacle. The center was turned into a sandbox hemmed in with freshly installed wooden boards, which were then ringed with cushions that were rapidly being filled with well-dressed audiences. Above, long strings of lanterns and colored stripes swayed in the air, and made the shadows below shimmer with various muted shades.

The excitement was palpable, and even from where Bao was making himself scarce, he could see even daring men, women, and children hanging onto the top of the temple walls to get a peek.

“What’s the purpose of all this, anyway?” He shot a probing look at Humei, who had her own place of honor for the upcoming proceedings.

“Tradition”, she glibly intoned. "We like to believe that if we cause a ruckus on land once a year, there’ll be fewer chances of a storm happening at sea.”

Bao remained poker-faced. “Also, you keep looking like you’re swallowing a lemon every time you see this arena in your temple.”

Humei’s smirk flickered with fleeting exasperation as she offered a subdued roll of her eyes. “To be fair, this year, the whole thing is a bit of a power move by the bureaucracy. You know, them ‘politely asking’ us to spend all the money to host these fighters who are mostly from Idoy Heart, so they can prance and preen and boast about how the military can march on us as they please.”

A groan escaped between clenched teeth. “You wrangled me into a political thing?”

“Mostly a popularity thing. Idoy Heart likes to think it’s the center of culture, but we have the bigger temple.” Humei looked over and laughed before slapping the larger man on the shoulder. “As I said, don’t worry about it! Exhibition matches won’t count, and the fighters’ feelings don’t bruise easily. You’ll mostly tweak the noses of some desk jockeys in another city, and it’ll say more about them than me that they’ll be upset about a failure to bully.”

“Ladies and gentlemen! Idoy welcomes another opportunity to show our strength!” A man’s voice, booming and strident, cut through the air from across the arena, and Humei took the opportunity to explicate - neither she nor Bao cared much for speeches.

“Culture Minister Miegale. He’s probably the one who suggested this whole thing. He’s your main nose to tweak later.”

“Humei, please, I’m just a bodyguard…”

There were more platitudes, but before long, the drums summoned the first fighters, who were carried in by the roars and cheers of the audience.

Despite their misgivings, even Bao and Humei eventually found themselves caught up with the dance of weapons and bare fists, with aspiring warriors filing in and out, reveling in victory and tasting defeat in equal measure. With one last blow, a well-built man with a spear by the name of Pana, touting the sobriquet of ‘The Needle’, was being met with deafening cheers as he was crowned the best of the pile.

That was when Humei gave a grin that did not bode well for Bao.

“Okay! You’re up! Exhibition match time!”

The redheaded swordsman pulled a face. “Wait, why would I fight the champion?”

“To make me look good since you’re my bodyguard. Just do your best, you’ll be fine.”

“Humei, my gimmick is entirely in the sword. I’m not the fighting part of the equation.”

The priestess, for some reason, responded with a sly, knowing look. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That body of yours isn’t for show. Come on, you can’t embarrass yourself now!”

By then, the Culture Minister had begun announcing the upcoming match. It was out of Bao’s hands now, unless he wanted to show the world an obstinate, frowning man clinging to a chair.

So Bao just rolled his eyes and grumbled as he stood up. “I’ve got Malevolence, Humei, I’m gonna use it to take revenge on you.”

The threat only served to heighten her elation. “You’re joking about it now! Progress!”

“Seaknot’s priesthood wishes to pay its respects to the Needle by offering their greatest warrior, Bao, to duel him! Let this meeting of force celebrate Idoy!” Miegale’s bellowing proclaimed, bringing in another round of cheers. They were loud enough that they blocked out Pana’s taunt as Bao stepped on stage.

“How convenient it must be to be able to challenge the best with just some patronage from the temple,” the champion sneered.

“Hey, man, this fight doesn’t even count,” Bao offered flatly, searching for understanding while he drew a nondescript sword from a nearby stand on the way to stepping onto the arena. “I didn’t even know it was going to happen like this. Let’s just make a good showing, okay?”

“Ha! The priesthood has gotten rather conceited to drag vanity bodyguards to fight me on a whim!”

“There’s no winning here, I see…”

“Warriors! Ready yourselves!”

On that command, the two slowly fell into ready stances, Pana pointing his spear straight ahead, while Bao, despite not having even touched a sword until only recently, found his body effortlessly drawing his sword back in a way he knew would hide it behind the bulk of his frame.

“Begin!”

Pana burst forward straight away, immediately on the offensive – one thrust darted through the air in a fashion that made Bao duck to the side, which only made Pana draw his weapon back to stab again, and again, and soon enough Bao was circling around the edges as his opponent owned the center of the arena and all the space around it.

“Is this the best the priests can offer?” Pana laughed.

“I mean, this isn’t exactly the army here…” Bao muttered to himself – or so he thought, as his foe seemed suddenly annoyed.

“Excuses!”

As the spear struck out again, the swordsman found that his eyes and his body had caught the tempo of the strike. His arm turned out to be slightly faster than the approaching spear, and before the blade reached him, his hand darted up and grabbed ahold of the wood shaft.

Pana’s thrust stopped so suddenly that the champion nearly toppled forward instead. Looking up in shock, he made to pull back – two arms were always better than one wrist, and he had proved it every time before.

Except this time, Bao’s limb was frozen in place, the muscles not for show. No matter how much Pana pushed or pulled, the spear did not move.

Slowly, Humei’s bodyguard stepped forward, and the spear was slowly pushed back, and Pana leaned back with it until he was forced to let his weapon slide through his hands, which only made Bao keep approaching.

“E-Enough!” Pana snarled, some of his bravado melting away as he wrenched his weapon to the side. At this current length, the spear had enough leverage to finally be ripped out of Bao’s hand, which he transferred to his sword for a two-handed grip.

For a moment, the two danced about each other now that they were within each other’s range, with Pana awkwardly but competently half-thrusting, half-slashing with his shorter spear, while Bao did what he could with his mundane blade.

Somehow, a no-name warrior from the priesthood was keeping up with Idoy Heart’s best fighter. With a frustrated his, Pana pulled out a trick and twirled backward and away from Bao’s slash. With the rotation came the back end of his spear, which had been protruding behind his back and now built up enough momentum to swat Bao in the side of the head.

Bao swore and yelped, shaking his head to get rid of the ringing in his ear as he stumbled to the side – and promptly tripped and fell out of the arena.

There was a round of loud laughter, something that Bao gratefully met with a sheepish rub of his head. Better to end a play fight as a comedy than the alternative.

“Oh, I guess you got me,” He excused as he stepped back onto the arena.

“An amazing show! The champion remains unbeatable!” The Minister cried out from somewhere. “Everyone give another round of applause to Pana, Idoy’s greatest!”

This time, the cheering masked Bao’s words as he came forward with an open hand.

“Hey, man, no hard feelings, huh? Like, I just caught you at the end of the tourney, if you were at your best, you totally would have smoked me, I’m sure. Just an exhibition.”

Pana’s face was flatly unamused, even as he took the hand to shake.

“You have no idea what you’ve done.”

Bao gave a perplexed look as the champion stiffly stalked away, but ultimately shrugged. Maybe it was a fighter’s complex?

That was what Bao considered the most eventful part of the day, and thought nothing else of it, though that night, the priests and priestesses he passed by gave him nods of respect.

Crashing into bed that night, Bao slept the sleep of the dead. Or at least he had hoped so.

At some point, a hand slapped his back, rousing him awake at his most inelegant. Snorting and spluttering, Bao looked up to see the unamused face of Humei, who also looked worse for wear and bleary-eyed.

“Bad news, Bao,” she grumbled. “You’re about to be accused of murder.”

“Oh, for the love of–”