As Amin and Karim took to their starting positions for the final, Ibraheem and Ali shared their thoughts on how the upcoming battle would likely end.
"It looks like it will be the same result once again," Ibraheem boldly claimed with a somewhat dismissive tone. "I have to say, Amin is looking rather sharp, Ali. Wouldn't you say that he reminds you of yourself when he was your age?"
Ali knew Ibraheem hadn't quite finished talking, and so he kept himself from responding just yet.
"His vigour, it's…it's truly admirable. It's hard to believe that he is only 14. I have no doubt that he will grow to become one of the Hakimis remembered by all generations."
Ali side-eyed his father, noticing an intense grin crossed Ibraheem's face. Subtle as it was, Ibraheem saw this and returned a look – one that was not so kind.
"Indeed, father. I cannot say I wholly disagree with you. It is without question that Amin is progressing like no other. Not quite like me, but for someone who doesn't have two powers, I have to admit, it's quite exciting."
Ibraheem, clearly satisfied with Ali's appreciative words, turned back to focus on the arena he had the best view of. Ali, however, had more to say. His face remained flat and nothing moved except for his mouth, seemingly unmoved by the evident pressure his father was exerting.
"However," Ibraheem's nose twitched ever so slightly, "I fear his overbearing arro—confidence gets the better of him at times. He needs to realise he must actually win the fight before even thinking about using that big mouth of his."
Ibraheem's eyes remained fixed on Amin, who stood in front of him and eagerly anticipated the fight to begin. "But doesn't that make you admire his abilities all the more?" Ibraheem leaned forwards, locked his fingers together and rested his elbows on his thighs, intently gazing at Amin. "Perhaps I was wrong to say he reminds me of you. He reminds me of myself…yes, a young, fierce warrior. I do not doubt that this matchup will inevitably result in his victory. Just like it has for the past 5 years."
Iman, who appeared to be listening in on the conversation between her father and older brother, abruptly intervened, lunging over Ali to ensure that her father heard her every word. She was perhaps too close to her father's ear, but she couldn't risk him missing anything she said. "Father's right! Amin should win this one. No doubt." She nodded at her father, looking for reassurance, but he barely acknowledged her. Despite this, it didn't stop Iman from agreeing with her father, "He fights a bit like me, wouldn't you say? If I was able to win my tournament fighting like that, then there's no doubt he will win as well."
An excited, open-mouthed smile appeared on her face as she awaited either of the two men to appreciate her contribution. Ibraheem didn't move, and Ali, albeit apologetically, brushed her to the side, forcing her to sit back down as she tried, but failed, to resist, "Hey! I'm an adult now, I can join in!"
Iman scowled, sassily crossing her arms and turning away from her brother, "So stupid."
With no more interruptions, Ali continued, "I would not be so sure, father. Karim has displayed great intelligence recently – when he's fully focused, that is. I think he is finally finding his feet, and learning to control that anger of his. He's getting closer to Amin by the day."
"What are you trying to say, Ali?"
"Well, it's by no means a stretch, but, I think, by whatever means, he might just win this bout."
Ibraheem sniggered, "Hmphh. We shall see. And don't make your left arm look so lifeless. Remember, we can't let people know your own five-year-old son broke it."
And so the host took his place at the centre of the arena, turning at almost every word, swaying his arms around and doing what he could to engage everyone that encircled him.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, esteemed spectators from every corner of the nation, prepare yourselves for the ultimate clash of power and strategy. In the grand finale of this prestigious tournament, we bring to you two formidable contenders."
Amin stood poised in his corner of the arena, jumping up and down and demonstrating stretches that only those of his blood could possibly pull off with such ease.
"In one corner, a force to be reckoned with. Known for his lightning-fast reflexes and impressive manipulation of electricity, the prodigious defending Champion, Amin!"
The crowd erupted into a raging cheer, but the announcer wasted no time in introducing the challenger.
"And in the other corner, a paragon of martial prowess, armed with the ability to torch his foe to a crisp. The flaming wonder-boy, Karim!"
The crowd was set off once again, but Amin and Karim took no notice. Their eyes were locked on one another and now nothing could make them look away. They smirked at one another as the host continued, "I'm sure you are all aware of the rules—"
A thumping collision emerged from behind the host, propelling him forwards as he covered his face with his hands in hope that it would not be ruined from the fall. An enormous dust cloud appeared at the point of collision, through which the connection of a punch sounded, echoing around the arena, pushing everyone to the edge of their seats to see who had landed what must have been an increasingly devastating blow. Upon fading away, the dust revealed a telling sight. Amin's right fist hammered deep into Karim's stomach, forcing a huge level of spit from his mouth.
As deep as the punch was dug into Karim's stomach, he manoeuvred away from Amin. Amin pressured him, following him and delivering yet another punch, this time his fist laced with electricity. Karim dodged, responding with a left hook, only missing by the slightest of margins.
Both then had the same idea, delivering a sweet hook to the face — Karim with his left and Amin with his right. Each connected with the other's face, landing at the same time as the pair tried to push the other's face downward to the ground.
"This will be another easy victory for me, Karim. You know it."
"Oh yeah, I wouldn't be so sure. You won't get lucky this time!"
After a roundhouse kick to Karim's liver, Amin regained his footing, burst through what was left of the dust cloud they had created earlier and charged at Karim.
Knowing that he didn't have much of a chance, Karim decided it was now or never. He thought that if he was going to give himself a chance of winning the fight, he had to give it everything he had early on to catch Amin off guard. Shameful, perhaps. But strategic and practical, that's all that mattered when it came to fighting. Seeing that Amin was getting closer, Karim put his hands together, until a ball of fire emerged, growing bigger and bigger and his hands vibrated as they were slowly pulled back.
The ball of fire multiplied in size, bringing astounded noises from the crowd as it looked like a miniature sun. Amin appeared unbothered, and no matter how big the fire became, his trajectory did not change. He embraced the challenge, and, to Karim's fortune, continued to head straight for him.
"Well, it's now or never," and with that, Karim hurled the ball of fire directly at the oncoming Amin. It coursed through the air, burning the arena's surface as it travelled. As wide and tall as it was, Amin was quick to find a solution. Though simple, Amin wanted to make his victory special. Instead of merely jumping over the ball of fire, he somersaulted early, leaping into the air and hanging himself upside down as he fell back to the ground.
To the crowd, it seemed as though he had accepted defeat, for the ball of fire was nearing his body and it appeared almost inevitable that it was going to make sufficient contact. Yet, in the dying moments, Amin revealed his plan. With one solid pump of his fists toward the floor, he shot electricity at the ground, using it to hurl himself over the ball of fire, twisting through the air.
The crowd gasped. Karim's eyes bulged in disbelief. Ali and Ibraheem remained still, knowing this wasn't quite the end of the fight.
Amin came crashing down, unleashing a heel kick right to the skull of Karim's head, one powerful enough to slam his face into the ground below.
As the dust settled, what emerged was what everyone would have expected. Amin stood tall above a defeated Karim. Karim lay still on the ground, his face indented on the arena's surface as his body twitched out of agony.
"Go on. You can get off yourself, can't you? I made sure you had at least enough energy to jump off yourself. How kind of me, eh?"
Unable to respond just yet, Karim, with what energy he had left, pushed himself up from the ground, his nose bloodied and his face badly bruised. Still, he smiled. And in no condition to continue fighting, Karim rose to his feet and said, "I can still fight."
Amin stood proud, believing that he had claimed victory once again. "Very well, if you won't do it yourself, I guess I'll have to do it for you."
Amin raised his arm, the electricity cackling around it as he began the process of delivering the final blow.
Karim, evidently scared and powerless, began to cower backwards, his hands trembling in front of his face. But it was too late for Karim. Amin had already begun lowering his hand, ready to charge one last time at Karim.
Karim was cornered, with nowhere to go. He had accepted his fate. And so Amin raced towards Karim, who chose to close his eyes, thinking that perhaps if he didn't see Amin deliver the blow it would hurt a little less.
However, with what appeared to be the greatest ounce of luck he had ever experienced, Karim felt a small rock beneath his foot. It was sharp on its end, but flat enough on its side for him to step on. His whole body fell backwards as he slipped on the rock, his foot somehow kicking it forward in the direction of Amin.
"Owwwww!" Amin cried as the edge of the rock found the exact spot Karim needed it to. Amin crouched down, clutching his left eye as he screamed in pain.
Ibraheem frantically arose from his makeshift throne, baffled at what he just saw, "Amin! What are you doing?!"
Karim did not hesitate to take full advantage. He didn't care that he was about to win by luck. Sometimes, he thought, you never truly know what will happen on the battlefield. But when fortune is on your side, not taking the opportunity it gives you would be foolish.
"This is my chance. Heaahhh!"
And with one crashing blow to Amin's body, Karim sent Amin soaring through the air and out of the arena. Amin crashed to the floor, still clutching his eye and exerting an eerie cry.
Karim took his chance to embrace the crowd that had erupted into a cheer — one far louder than any prior. He laughed, not before looking at his foot in confusion and wondering how he could've gotten so lucky. But this wasn't the time to care about how he won. He had won, and that's what was important. That's what everyone around him was cheering about. And so he embraced the situation. "Hahaha take that," he pointed toward Amin with his left hand while flexing his right arm, "My plan worked. I drew him in and—"
"No one is going to believe that, Karim," a gentle voice declared from the crowd. Karim turned to see who exactly was dismissing his claim. There sat Rahim, timid as always and embarrassed to even watch Karim celebrate considering the circumstances.
Karim, however, chose to ignore his other older brother, immediately turning back around and cupping his ear to the crowd.
While Amin still held his eye and writhed on the ground, Karim prolonged his moment as the centre of attention, as Hamid sat cross-legged on the floor, watching in quiet dismay as Karim's name was inscribed on the wall beside Amin's, which had already been engraved seven times.
Hamid slapped the top of his head, wishing that the day would end. But he knew it couldn't just yet.
He remembered that, after every tournament, the three, alongside their siblings and parents, had to dine as a family, before having to lead the daily mass prayer, which would soon begin across the nation of Avia.