Amun Sunsaver's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Amun raised his spear for the next strike, but his arm would not lift. The sand tilted under his paws. His knees buckled. The crowd's roar dimmed to a low hum, and the painted sky above the great stone arena spun once before going dark at the edges. Large hands caught him before he hit the ground. The grip was careful, not rough. Amun blinked up at a wide, kind face — a giant of a fighter with soft eyes. "Easy, cub," the giant rumbled. "I've got you. Name's Tama." He lifted Amun like he weighed nothing and carried him off the sand. Tama brought him down stone steps into a quiet recovery hall beneath the tournament grounds. Torches lit rows of cots and basins. In the corner sat an enormous wooden rocking chair, worn smooth by years of use. Tama lowered himself into it with Amun cradled in his arms and tucked a bright, soft quilt around his shoulders. The fabric warmed his fur at once. Amun tried to speak, to say he could stand. His tongue felt heavy. Tama only hummed and rocked, slow and steady. "You pushed too far," the giant said. "Body said no. That's all." Amun's pack pressed against his side, and through the leather he felt the folded cloth from home. His ears flattened. He had wanted the crowd to see him strong. Instead a stranger had carried him out. After a long while, Amun's legs steadied. He pushed gently against Tama's arm, and the giant let him stand. Amun's paws met the cold stone floor. He had not been beaten in the arena — he had been beaten by himself. He picked up his spear from where Tama had leaned it against the chair. The next match would come. But first he had to learn what had broken in him down here, before he stepped back onto the sand.