After Dory left, Jet just went on autopilot. Relo finished bandaging his hand and hopped into the tub. She helped him wash up, and now he was watching her wash. Jet's curiosity was peaked. Why was he not aroused by a naked girl in a tub with him? He decided to look into the matter later. The tournament is coming up, and he needed to focus on preparing for it.

"I didn't even find out about your injury until this morning. I was asleep through all of your suffering." Relo was looking down at the water twirling her finger in it.

Jet lifted his hand and looked at it, then back to Relo. "Glad you weren't there. Not one of my better moments." He set his arm back down on the side of the tub.

Relo stopped twirling her finger and looked at him. "I could have helped."

He watched as a tear went down her cheek. Since he had got to Hope, Relo had always been there. Jet could see her as a sister. "You have been more help to me than you know. I feel at home here." He leaned forward and wiped the tear off her cheek. Her cheek smooth and warm. "So yes, Relo, I would love to have you as a sister. So please don't cry."

He put his arm back down and met her eyes. They looked like they were sparkling. Then she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. Then set her chin down on his shoulder, hugging him. Her body was so warm and smooth on his skin. He could feel her breasts against his chest. Her hair on his face smelled like flowers. Jet wrapped his hand around her and started rubbing her back.

"Relo, can you keep a secret?" He was tired of lying to her. So when they finally let go and sat back again. Jet told her everything about what happened. He made sure she knew that only the royal family knew the whole truth about him. Not even Dory knew about his world.

Jet was on his way to the dining hall for a late lunch. He felt way better after the bath. The hot water did wonders for his aching muscles. 'I will go ahead and take today off, but I need to train for next week.' As he got into the dining hall, he saw king Garent sitting at the table. Jet bowed to the king before sitting down.

"Me, Rick, and Todly talked it over. We will be removing you from the tournament. Your hand will not recover in time." Garent could see Jet was about to say something. However, he held up a hand to silence him. "These competitions get dangerous. Jet until after the tournament, you will be taking that time off." Garent stood to leave, but before exiting the dining hall, he turned back to Jet. "Try not to let this get to you. Injuries are just a part of life. Even the best of people need time to heal." The guards shut the twin doors when he got through them.

Jet was hungry before he had got here. Now he just stared at his food. Why was he so upset anyways. This tournament was thrust upon him out of nowhere.

"Stop just staring at your food, or I will shove it down your throat." An old gravely voice growled behind him.

Jet jumped at the sound of the old gravely voice. How had someone got so close to him? He turned his head to find grandma standing right next to him. She even uses a cane to walk with, yet he had heard nothing.

She hit him over the head with her cane. "Are you deaf, boy? I said eat."

Jet quickly grabbed up the spoon he dropped and started eating his soup. Then he got hit in the head again.

"Did you forget your manners now? You youngins these days, back in my day, they would string you up for bad manners." Grandma gave him another thump on the head. She then walked over and sat across from him.

Jet, in the meantime, was eating awkwardly. Using his left hand was not easy. His elbow would go high for some reason, which was not polite in the least. So he kept trying over and over to eat with his elbow down.

"Keep practicing. You will get used to eating left-handed." She said, waving to another servant. After a few minutes, they brought her a cup of tea. "I'm getting too old for this," Grandma grumbled under her breath.

Jet, feeling awkward, finally got done eating. He wasn't sure if he should go or not. So he sat there, watching grandma drink her tea.

"Well, how are you feeling? I heard you and Ileana had quite the night." Grandma asked.

"I am feeling much better. Relo took care of my hand." He was wondering where this was going. Grandma was also a life's tuff kind of woman. Well multiplied by ten would be closer.

"Idiot girl needs to be punished for what she has done. The kings being too soft on her." She said, spitting out the last words.

"I asked the king not to punish Ileana." Jet wasn't liking where this was going.

"And what would a stupid little brat like you know. You are still too naive to understand. Punishments are necessary to learn." She had a scowl on her face, just daring him to talk back.

Jet got up slowly to his feet. Everyone could hear the chair scraping the floor. The guards and the servant were watching him, not sure what he planned to do. As he got up, he never took his eyes off her. Jet's face was completely passive.

"I will not sit here and let you talk down to me or question my thoughts on this matter."

"Excuse me." She growled before Jet glared so intensely it sent shivers down her spine.

"I stand by what I said. Ileana does not need to be punished. I looked into her eyes. She regretted what she had done. My hand will heal with time. So if I want your opinion, I will ask for it." Jet turned and walked to the doors. As he neared the doors, he used his wind magic to open them. When he got through the doors, they all listened in silence as they slowly creaked closed.

The guards and the servant were looking at the older woman. They just watched, wondering what she would do. Grandma just picked up her tea and took a drink. Then grinned to nobody in particular. "Finally, someone with a little backbone." She muttered to herself.

Jet was mad and needed to cool off. So he decided since he has time to spare, he would take a walk around town. He headed to his room took off his fancy clothes for street clothes. Then he remembered his hair would be a dead giveaway, so he grabbed a coat with a hood on it. Jet just wanted to be left alone. A walk would be suitable for that, and he didn't leave the castle enough.

Jet walked down the market street. As usual, the town is loud and bustling with people. The shops looked like they come out of the old wild west. He wouldn't mind going to the town of lumber to see how they machined the wood.

"Excuse me, sir, could I interest you in buying some rare potions." Said a man shoving some vials in Jet's face.

Jet pulled out some gold coins. "Will this be enough to buy any of those rare potions." Jet mocking the man. He had quite a bit of money. This was just a show so that others would think him poor.

The man just walked away without a word. He noticed others looked away from him. To take his mind off his problems, he was looking at random stalls. He was looking at some hats when something caught his attention.

"Last chance to sign up for the tournament. Come on, people who want a chance at fame and glory."

Jet froze in spot. He was just about to walk away. 'I could just go sign up, but my hand is messed up.' He just kept pondering what to do. No king Garent was right. He needed to get healed up.

The man taking down names for the tournament looked around. "We haven't got a single sign-up today. Let's just call it and go get ready for the preliminary fights."

The man sitting beside him gave a nod of agreement. There was no point sitting here. Anyone that wanted to sign up already had.

They were about to leave when a young man walked up to the table. "The names Elson I would like to sign up for the tournament."

"Well, you are just in time. We were just about to leave. Just sign here, please." The man looked the boy over. He had to be around fifteen. The man watched as he signed up. Well, none of his business. "Here is a list of what you will need. If you need weapons and gear, we do rent them out. Make sure to be at this location in two days for the preliminaries. If any gear is needed, come by tomorrow."

"I think I can manage the gear." Jet said with a grin on his face. This is going to be fun.

Jet asked around for a blacksmith. He would need to get a blunted sword. Also, he needed a leatherworker for some gear. After asking around, he found his way to a leatherworker. The shop packed with people. A line coming out the door. He turned towards the blacksmith. It didn't have quite as long of a line. So he went to them first.

"It will take a week to get the sword ready." The bulky man said in a gruff voice.

"I just signed on for the tournament. I need it in two days." Jet may have bitten off more than he could chew.

"Then you should have come sooner. Everyone seems to think I can make swords out of thin air." The man just shrugged him off, taking the next guy's order.

Jet didn't have any luck at the leather workers either. Got the same story from them. It looked like he was going to have to rent some gear. He looked up at the sky. The last Sun was about to set. It was late. He decided to head back.

Jet had taken a back street to try and get back earlier. That had been a mistake. He got turned around somehow. Then he saw a sign outside a building. Tom's blacksmith and leather shop. It looked like it was an older blacksmith building. 'Well, I got nothing to lose trying this place.' So he walked to the door and knocked on it. It was late. They may be closed.

"Come on in."

Jet opened the door and walked in. There standing behind the counter, nearly two heads taller than Jet stood who he assumed was the smith. There were rows of swords on the wall, with suits of armor on another. Another person walked out of the back. He would say the person had to be a disciple. The man he assumed was the smith had dark skin and a shaved head. The disciple looked around an inch shorter than Jet and had blue hair and glowing red eyes.

"See, I told you we would start getting customers soon." The blue-haired kid said, smiling.

"The names Tom we just moved to the big city. This kid is my disciple Tony." Tom gave a nod towards Tony, then held out his hand.

Jet to the burly man's hand and shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, Tom."

"Now, how can I help you. Also, a name and face would be nice." Tom asked.

"Elson, I am keeping my identity a secret in the tournament." Jet didn't want everyone to know about his hand. He heard people talking about it already.

"Yeah, I can see why you would, but you are obviously Jetsford." Tom pointed at Jet's hand.

He lifted his hand, looking at the bandages. 'Great how many people already know about my identity. Why hadn't I considered the bandages.' Jet just lowered the hood of his coat and sighed. "Guess my hand injury is a big story. Yes, I am Jetsford."

"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone, and when we're done with you. No way you will lose the tournament." Tom said with a reassuring grin.