Grub stretched his aching shoulders while staring suspiciously at the doll-like girl standing across from him in the park.
"Alright. How do you play this game, anyway?"
Luthiel smiled wide and shook her head like she had been waiting her whole life for someone to ask that question. Her golden eyes gleamed with excitement beneath the sunlight filtering through the trees overhead. The wind gently swayed the front braids in her blonde hair as she clasped her hands together happily.
"It's simple! You take an item. That item is called the loot." She held up her mitten hand. "Then we tussle for it. Whoever holds the loot for thirty seconds straight wins. Or, if nobody manages that, whoever is holding it when the match ends wins instead."
She raised a finger proudly as if she had just explained a masterpiece of strategy.
"So you either focus on holding it long enough or stalling until the end. The choice is yours."
Then her expression faltered slightly. "Though there is one issue. I do not know how we are going to time it. I did not bring anything for that."
Grub looked at her blankly. "I can count."
Luthiel tilted her head curiously. "Hm?"
"I can keep track of both timers," Grub explained. "The holding timer and the overall match time. I'm good at keeping track of time." He crossed his arms. "I've been counting the days since I got here. It's been about three months already."
Luthiel's eyes widened slightly.
"Really?!"
Grub shrugged indifferently.
Luthiel's golden eyes widened. "Three months? You've been keeping track that long?"
"I keep track of everything."
Luthiel studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Well, sure then. I'll trust that you'll be fair when counting."
"I have no reason not to be," Grub said. "I don't particularly care about this game."
Luthiel puffed her cheeks slightly.
"Well, you better care, or I'll win quick." She crossed her arms and suddenly her eyes drifted toward his undercoat.
"Anyway, usually people use a ball for this game. But for now, we can use your notebook."
Grub's expression darkened instantly.
"What?"
He immediately grabbed his coat protectively.
"Hell no. I just got this thing. Why would I use it for something so dumb? What if the pages I spent hours slaving over get ripped?"
Luthiel shook her head confidently. "Don't worry Mister Grub. The pages in that book are incredibly tough. Neither of us are strong enough to tear them from just tussling a bit."
Then a mischievous smile spread across her doll face.
"Plus, this will motivate you to actually try."
Grub opened his mouth to argue further, but Luthiel had already stepped forward, reached into his coat, and snatched the enchanted notebook from the inner pocket.
Grub scowled but didn't resist too much. Mostly because he knew chasing her for it would only encourage her. Luthiel set the notebook down on the grass between them and stepped back several paces. Grub did the same on his side, eyeing the book sitting in the middle like bait in a trap.
"Only rules," Luthiel said, holding up her mitten-like hands, "are don't go too far, okay? It's not a real fight. But punching and kicking are allowed. You do anything you can to get the book. Anything to win."
Grub sighed. "You better tell me a whole lot about yourself after this."
Luthiel nodded. Her golden eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Ready?"
Grub lowered his stance.
"Set."
His eyes locked on the notebook.
"GO!"
Both of them dove for the notebook at the same time and their heads collided with a dull crack.
At first the impact was soft. Her forehead pressed against his like hitting a cushion, her plush skin absorbing the blow. But then something underneath the softness connected, a material that was dense and metallic crashed into him and sent a sharp jolt through Grub's skull.
Grub and Luthiel both cried out in pain and recoiled, grabbing their heads. However, Luthiel recovered first.
She threw herself on top of the notebook and wrapped both arms around it, pressing it flat against her chest.
"Got it!"
Grub grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled. She was heavier than she looked, or at least more resistant. Her body refused to move, her mitten-like hands locked tight around the book like clamps.
But Grub had been training his body consistently. Back in the cave near the Lacert settlement, through the wilderness, and even here in the village whenever he had free time. The physical conditioning wasn't monumental but he was not a true weakling either.
He planted his feet, adjusted his grip, and lifted. Luthiel came off the ground with a surprised squeak. Grub tossed her onto her back and she landed with a soft thump, still clutching the book against her chest. He jumped on top of her and began prying at her grip.
Fifteen seconds she's held it. I need to get it soon.
He pulled harder. Luthiel resisted stubbornly, her arms trembled but didn't give. Grub grit his teeth before finally wrenching the notebook free from her grip and stumbling backward.
Luthiel reached for it but Grub shoved her back down and broke into a sprint.
If I run and keep it for thirty seconds, I win. That's legal, right? She said do anything.
Grub sprinted through the park like a madman while clutching the notebook protectively beneath his coat. Strange villagers turned to stare at him as he dashed past children, benches, and pathways. Oddly enough, almost nobody seemed concerned. If anything, several people simply looked mildly amused.
This game must actually be common here…
Grub didn't bother looking back.
Ten seconds of running left.
He could win this.
Five seconds.
Then something slammed into his back with the force of a small boulder.
The air exploded out of his lungs. Through the softness of the impact he felt that same metallic density—a frame of something hard buried beneath plush skin. His feet left the ground and he crashed face-first into the grass, the notebook flying from his grip.
Luthiel loomed over him while reaching for the notebook. She had closed the entire gap in seconds.
She's fast. Way faster than I expected.
Grub snatched the book off the ground before she could grab it and kicked upward, catching her in the midsection. She stumbled back. He scrambled to his feet but she was already on him, grabbing his coat and yanking him back down.
They hit the ground together and started rolling. Elbows and knees and mitten-like hands fighting for grip. They were close enough in strength that neither could fully overpower the other. Every time Grub pulled away, she dragged him back. Every time she reached for the notebook, he twisted it out of range.
Then her hair changed. The neat golden braids loosened and fell messy across her face. Red streaks bled through the blonde. Her golden eyes flickered and burned into crimson. And then she got strong.
Strong like someone had flipped a switch inside her body and activated something that hadn't been there before.
Grub gasped. Not from the transformation—he had seen that plenty of times. From the sudden, overwhelming difference in raw power. One second they had been evenly matched. The next it felt like wrestling Wrighty.
Luthiel laughed, her crimson eyes blazing.
"Time to lose, Bug!"
She grabbed him by the coat and hurled him across the grass. Grub hit the ground hard, skidded, and barely managed to keep the notebook pressed against his chest.
Before he could stand, she was on him again. She tackled him with so much force that his vision blurred, pinned him flat, and started swinging. Fist after fist slammed into his jaw. Each hit rocked his head sideways. The impacts were heavy and sharp, her mitten-like hands hitting far harder than anything that soft-looking had any right to. Blood filled his mouth as his lip split.
She had never acted like this before. But even stranger—
She seemed more focused on beating him up than actually reclaiming the notebook.
Punch after punch after punch. Her crimson eyes were locked on his face with a focus that had nothing to do with a game. For the entirety of the last seconds of the third minute she wailed on him, her fists crashing into his cheeks, his jaw, his temples, each strike delivered with a wild grin that was equal parts joy and violence.
Grub took it. Not because he wanted to. Because she was too strong to throw off, and every second she spent beating him up was a second she wasn't taking the notebook.
The count ran in his head the entire time.
Three minutes.
"I WON, STOP HITTING ME!"
Luthiel's fists froze mid-swing. She blinked. The crimson in her eyes flickered with confusion.
"Won? What do you mean, won?"
Grub shoved her off and sat up, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand. His jaw throbbed. His cheeks stung. He could feel the swelling starting already.
"You were more focused on beating me up than taking the notebook," he said, spitting a bit of blood onto the grass. "Three minutes passed. I had it last. I win."
Luthiel stared at him. Then at the notebook clutched against his chest. Then back at him.
"That's bullshit!"
Grub shrugged. "Those are the rules."
Luthiel's crimson eyes burned, but she had no argument. She scowled and looked away, her messy red-streaked hair falling across her face. Grub sat there for a moment, catching his breath. His body ached and his face was a mess, but his mind was already working. He had noticed several things during the fight.
The red-eyed Luthiel was vastly stronger than the golden-eyed one. The difference wasn't subtle, it was like fighting two completely different people. He couldn't compare it to the blue-streaked one since he had never been physical with that form, but he was fairly certain the crimson version was the strongest of the three.
And then there was the body itself. On the surface, touching her, grabbing her, colliding with her, it all felt soft. Plush. Like a stuffed doll given life. But underneath that softness was something else. Something dense and metallic that he had felt when their heads cracked together and again when she tackled him at full speed. There was a frame inside her. A skeleton of something hard. Grub filed it all away.
Breathing in slowly, he let out a small smile.
"I win. Now it's time to tell me about yourself."
Luthiel scowled deeper, her crimson eyes glaring at the grass.
"Why the fuck is it always me in control for this kind of bullshit?"
Grub looked at her without hesitation. Luthiel sighed. Long and heavy, like she was deflating.
"Fine." She crossed her arms and refused to look at him. "What do you want to know about me, Bug?"