I pulled apart my weaves, and sent out an oscillating tempo. The sand followed, and soon created thick enough strips to distinguish flames.
"Light them again," Dragon ordered, covering his own mouth.
"That sand – gets everywhere, doesn't it?" I moved one weave in, dousing him in the back of the head.
He tried pulling flame from the few lighters that were still lit. Sand moved in, extinguishing them.
Dragon growled, marched toward someone who still held a lighter, and took it from her. Right behind, I placed another kick into his side. The lighter flew up in the air.
I caught it, then turned to address the audience. "Light them again, and I will start shoving the sand down your throats!" It seemed convincing, even if I couldn't really do that, unless they each had a high dose of iron for breakfast that morning. I stared down the onlookers. The sound of several dozen lighters hitting the floor echoed across the room.
I turned back to my opponent. "How's the side, Dragon?"
He backed away, hands moving to protect his midsection. He bumped into one of the filing cabinets, falling back on it. As soon as his butt touched, he hopped back up. He craned his neck over his shoulder, brushing at his pants and checking for burns.
I laughed out loud. He definitely wasn't having fun anymore. I turned to the ref. "How does this end?" I noticed his lighter also lay uselessly on the floor by his foot.
He followed my gaze, then kicked the lighter away and cleared his throat. "Your opponent has to be unable to continue. He can't just give up – there are no tapouts."
I turned to Dragon, one side of my mouth tipped up in a smile. "Oh, good."
Dragon's eyes went double-wide. He took two steps back, then stumbled for the door. The crowd parted, but before he got there, two more shirts in black stepped in front of the exit. They held up their palms, each with a ball of fire levitating above. They threw their element down in front of them, creating a wall of fire.
Dragon backpedaled, skidding across the floor. He stopped just short of the flame. There were no more exits.
"Draaaagon…come back to plaaaay…." I taunted from the circle.
He shook his head violently, then followed the room around, pushing people out of his way. I adjusted my weaves, sending them straight down into the Earth. The sand granules hit the floor, skittering across the concrete – unable to follow the energy further.
The Earth responded, and a slab of rock jutted up. It just barely missed Dragon, but certainly caught his attention. He ran faster. I concentrated, trying again. The next one caught him under his foot. The rock shot up at least as tall as he was. Dragon was launched across the room. He landed hard on his back, right in front of me.
I took a step back, dropping to my knees, and sending the last bit of energy I could muster into the Earth. The room shook, people and filing cabinets alike falling over. Cracks crept along the walls and ceilings.
Dragon stood. With a wary eye on me, one foot lifted. He was going to try running again.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I said, looking up at him. "Just stay still and you won't feel a thing."
His whole body tensed. I had to be quick before he decided to bolt.
Just don't go too far...
My energy hit stronger stone, and shot off in a different direction – to the west.
Oops, too far.
I could feel it, even from here. Several miles, cracking hard stone all along the way. I used what was left, localizing it. Right as Dragon turned, preparing to run, a large stone shot up in front of him. Another came up behind him. The rest were easy; one after another, until he was encased in a five foot diameter stone cage.
His voice floated up and over, "Hey! Let me out – please? I'm…I'm…claustrophobic. I'm sorry. I think my nose is broken." No one answered his pleas. "I have to pee."
The ref laughed, coming up beside me. He took my hand, raising it in the air. "Winner!"
Cheers and shouts echoed across the room. It would have been much louder if half the room hadn’t bailed. That was okay, maybe when they asked about the rest of the fight, the details would be exaggerated – make me look good.
The ref dropped my hand. I glanced at the lighter he held in his other hand. A zippo painted with the American flag. "I apologize for that." He shrugged. "Dragon – well, we all had our reasons for helping him."
I reared back my fist, hitting the ref square in the jaw. He went unconscious, slumping to the ground. The cheering stopped.
I turned to the crowd. "No more dog fights."
Everybody stared, but when I glanced their way, eyes flitted down to the ground.
I stepped toward the stone cage. "Do you hear me in there Dragon? No more dog fights! And if I catch wind of one, I'll intervene. Trap everyone involved – refs, contenders and audience alike in one of these stone cages!"