Class Reptilia

Ember hiked up her pant leg, taking a big step to the next row of hippodrome seats. “Are we nearly there?” Morgan asked from behind, her question interrupted by a panting breath. 

“Almost!” Carn answered, bounding up another two rows. 

Naz rolled her eyes. She grabbed Ember’s arm, pulling herself up to compensate for her short stature. Together, they caught up to Carn, who was standing with his hands on his hips like a king surveying his kingdom. Naz offered Morgan a hand, hauling her up next to them. 

Ember turned around, looking over the hippodrome.  It was a spectacular view—the ovular field stretched out below, lined with endless rows of stone seats. Around them, the massive trees rose above the hippodrome walls on all sides, their needles rustling in the gentle breeze. 

The four Linnaeans settled onto the stone, using their jackets as cushions. Ember sat on the end, listening as her friends struck up an idle conversation. She slipped her hand inside her pocket, fiddling with the pointy end of the ticket stub, and raised her head to the sun as it moved out from behind a cloud. 

She found herself relaxing as the start of the match drew closer. Linnaeans filed into the stadium, their voices intermingling with the music outside. Her friends spoke in low tones, discussing their classes and making bets about who would win the tournament. 

It would be Ember’s second time watching a division one match. Since the first brutal fight between the buffalo and the hawk, she had subtly avoided news of the competition. Now that she was determined to debut, however, she intended to make the most of the opportunity to observe in person. 

After twenty minutes, the announcer took the box, straightening his outfit. He was dressed in extravagant, all-green clothing that appeared to be made entirely of overlapping banana leaves. A pair of bright-orange insectile wings sprouted from beneath his shoulders. 

“Welcome!” he said, his voice naturally amplified by the shape of the hippodrome. “I am Ethan Bass, a previous winner of the division one tournament and a current member of the Apex Association. I will be announcing for today’s match, so I hope you’ll treat me well!”

The crowd cheered uproariously, and he bowed low, the crown of his head almost scraping the platform. Morgan leaned close to Ember, whispering in her ear. “He was a fan-favorite when he fought. His species is the giant hornet.”

Ember nodded, realizing that she should take him seriously despite his showboating. To take the top rank, even for a season, was an enormous accomplishment. 

“Our fight today is between two formidable opponents,” the announcer continued, “Blair Heller, also known as Arachna, and Benjamin Skogland. Blair was ranked third going into the season, and Benjamin second.” He paused, allowing time for a male Linnaean to enter from the far side of the hippodrome. “Coming from the left is Benjamin. He’s a veteran of the field, consistently placing in the top five ranks thanks to his incredible source species… the electric eel, Electrophorus voltai!” 

Ember stood up slightly, trying to get a better view. The fighter’s appearance was surprisingly unexceptional: he was of average build, with dull, gray skin, and no other discernible mutations. “I’ve heard about him,” Carn said. “He’s unbeatable in the water, but on land, he has to make contact with someone to shock them. His eyesight was failing, so he took a season off last year, but it looks like he came back even stronger.”

“Wow,” Ember breathed, wondering how anyone could best such a powerful mutation. None of the strategies she had seen thus far would be able to overcome it; even Roland’s attack against the mantis had required that he touch her with his talons. 

“Next up is Arachna,” Bass continued. “She moved up from division two only last year, but she’s a strong contender. She’s a spitting spider, Scytodes thoracica!”

The spectators fell silent as Arachna entered the ring. She was the most developed Linnaean that Ember had ever seen—and she was terrifyingly grotesque. Her torso was humanoid in nature, but her head was unnaturally bulbous, with three pairs of partially-formed black eyes speckling her forehead and fanged mouthparts sprouting from both corners of her lips. Her lower body had almost completely transitioned to that of a spider; eight long, spindly legs erupted from just below her hips, balancing her torso in the center like some terrible apparition. Her natural, human legs hung uselessly below her, bearing little weight. 

Arachna took her time walking to the center of the ring. Each long leg moved one at a time, stretching tentatively in front of her as if testing the ground beneath. Ember suppressed a shudder, inadvertently reminded of when her father had squished a partially large spider underneath his boot. 

Arachna and Benjamin stretched as the announcer went over the rules. “No eye gouging, puncture wounds to the heart, or ripping of limbs will be tolerated,” he reminded the audience. “The winner will be decided when either fighter forfeits or loses consciousness. Of course, there is a team of medics on-site in case of injury.”

The fighters faced each other, reaching out to shake hands. Arachna dwarfed Benjamin, but he gripped her hand without a moment of hesitation. They separated, waiting for the announcer’s cue.

Bass made a show of checking that the referees and medics were in position before raising his hand high above his head. “You may begin!” he shouted, slashing downward with his outstretched arm. 

The audience roared as Arachna lunged forward, striking Benjamin in the shoulder with one of her front legs. He half-stumbled, half-flew backward, landing on his rear end. “The spider strikes the first blow!” Bass shouted. At the same time, she leaped into the air to finish her opponent, her legs pointed downward like a rain of spears.

Without losing his composure, Benjamin raised both hands, standing perfectly still. Ember’s mind raced, coming to the conclusion that he must be generating an electrical field to compensate for his loss of vision. 

Arachna faltered mid-air, but it was too late to change her trajectory. She landed squarely on top of Benjamin with all of her legs splayed out to avoid touching him. His hand jutted out, grabbing her nearest limb. 

The crowd gasped as Arachna went stiff.  “Arachna attacks first, but is too late to disorientate Benjamin’s electro-location!” Bass bellowed. “Will the match end this quickly?”

Ember laced her fingers together, satisfied that she had guessed the eel’s strategy. “It looks like she failed to cut him off,” Carn commented, “but I doubt things will end so easily.”

Before Ember could ask what he meant, Benjamin managed to wriggle out from underneath Arachna’s frozen body. Bracing himself against her torso, he swung his knee into her joint with full force. The spindly leg gave way with a sickening crunch. The spectators held their breath as he moved counterclockwise, repeating the motion on two more limbs.

As he gripped her forth leg, Arachna regained her agency, scuttling backward with a painful moan. “Why didn’t he shock her again?!” Morgan demanded. “He let her get away!”

“I’m guessing there’s a limit on how many times he can use that skill,” Ember answered. 

Carn nodded. “If I’m remembering correctly, there’s a three to five-minute recharge time depending on how powerful the shock is.”

Ember grimaced. Five minutes was a long time to stave off an opponent, even if they were disoriented. So that’s his handicap. 

For the next few minutes, the fighters were at a standoff. Arachna’s broken legs were folded underneath her as she limped from side to side, attempting to bypass Benjamin’s electric field. Each time he raised his head, sensing her, and she was forced to retreat yet again. “Our fighters appear evenly matched,” Bass commented. “At this point, either one could win.”

As Ember watched, she began to notice a pattern. Each time Arachna circled Benjamin, she pushed the imaginary boundary between them so that he was forced to back up a couple of feet. He seemed not to notice, either distracted by her movements or unable to sense the field’s walls with his electric field. 

Ember glanced at Carn, wondering if he had observed what she had. “Arachna is cornering Benjamin.”

He nodded. “Bass must see it too, but he doesn’t want to give her away.”

The fighters’ strange dance continued until Benjamin’s back was only a yard from the wall. Arachna reared back, her front legs rising into the air like those of a stallion, and spit two radiant strands of liquid from her fangs. They zigzagged in the air, creating a tightly-woven net, and fell upon Benjamin with enough force to send him flying into the wall. 

“Arachna hits Benjamin with her sticky silk, the hallmark of the spitting spider,” Bass said, his voice suddenly more serious. “If she can manage to bite him without getting shocked, we may see this fight come to a quick—and gruesome—end.”

Ember looked at Carn for an explanation. “Spitting spiders have venom, too,” he said, looking concerned. “They use it to paralyze their prey and liquefy its insides.” 

“It won’t be enough to kill him, but it will be painful,” Naz said, looking ready to be ill. 

Ember turned her attention back to the fight. Benjamin was doubled over, weighed down and pinned to the wall by the silk. Despite the circumstances, however, he struggled little, looking straight at Arachna with a glare that bordered on defiance. 

“His shock has probably recharged by now,” Ember realized. “And she has no way of knowing how powerful it is.”

Sure enough, Bass wiped his forehead, speaking over the crowd’s murmuring. “It appears we’re at a stalemate, folks. If Arachna strikes now, she could be electrocuted with enough force to stop her heart. Benjamin must be hoping that the pain of her broken legs will make her surrender before he does.”

Ember scooted forward, completely enraptured. Thanks to Jisu, she now recognized how much strategy went into a fight of this caliber. Each fighter must have studied for weeks beforehand, attempting to devise a scheme that would overcome the other.

The fight had no time limit, and the audience grew restless as the stalemate continued. Dark clouds passed over the setting sun, deepening the chill. The stadium staff began walking up and down the rows, hanging lanterns on the handrails. The orange light cast an eerie glow on the arena and the fighters.

Finally, Arachna moved. She reared again, expelling a new wave of silk onto Benjamin. This time, however, she didn’t stop when the silk blanketed his upper body. Instead, she shot line after line of the sticky liquid, burying every inch of his visible skin.

Bass repositioned himself on the platform. “This is a strategy we’ve never seen from Arachna!” he exclaimed, hardly able to contain himself. “Does she plan to suffocate him under the weight of her silk?” 

The audience erupted into shouts as Benjamin’s body slumped against the wall. A referee drew close to his side, ready to raise a hand the moment he fell unconscious. Ember leaned back, considering the fight won.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. A single raindrop splattered on the side of Ember’s face, trailing down her neck and wetting her jacket. She looked up just in time to meet the onslaught of rain. It went from a drizzle to a downpour in just moments, stinging her skin like the sharp prick of a needle. 

The crowd rushed to take cover. Ember and her friends jumped up, half-running, half-sliding down the stands as they attempted to find shelter. Bruised and soaking wet, they settled beneath a stone archway, which was already crowded with spectators but close enough to the field to make out the fighters. All around them, Linnaeans hid underneath jackets or huddled under stone outcroppings, but few left the stadium. All eyes turned to the field, though without the aid of the lanterns it was barely visible through the curtains of rain.

The rain had stopped Arachna from shooting more silk, but it had done little to free Benjamin. His body sank lower until he was almost laying prone against the ground. For over five minutes, the rain drummed upon the already-saturated field, beginning to form a layer of standing water. 

A realization hit Ember, turning her blood cold. She grabbed Carn’s arm, looking at him with wide eyes. “He’s going to-”

Before she could move, a figure leaned over the wall, yanking the referee a foot off of the ground the moment before disaster. Ember clutched her heart, recognizing the malformed limbs and dark feathers. Corax. 

Benjamin’s body convulsed. Through the distortion of the heavy rain, Ember almost imagined that she could see wave after wave of electricity arching off of him. Arachna stiffened again, this time with a horrible jerk that curled all of her legs underneath her. She fell sideways, her body hitting the wet field with a moist thump.

The arena cheered as lightning sliced through the air. Bass jumped up and down on the platform, waving his arms in a stopping motion. “Let’s go,” Carn yelled, trying to make himself heard over the storm. “The fight is won.”