(Photo Credit: JMR)
That’s why I think you could beat me this season. You’re only six points back, after all, and you were in perfect form today.
–
Right now, whatever happens, I’m going to remember it forever. So, I want to get it all right.
–
In the span of four races, Lollipop had managed to acquire two medals and enough points to put them in fifth right before the final race. Now, in said final race, they added a third medal to that count with another last-second overtake, completing a medal rainbow for the first time in their career.
The best races were the ones where they stepped onto the podium, but the very best of the best were the ones where they rolled off with Superball by their side. The black-and-white marble net a silver in the same race after a shaky season, and all that was left now was to check the scoreboard for the final time that season.
Amongst the last to arrive, they found themselves at the back of the teeming crowd. Points ticked up on the screen to the silence of collectively held breath. Lollipop had worked it out in their head; now, they watched the screen particularly attentively, waiting for their calculations to be reflected in reality. They hadn’t paid attention to Reflektor’s position in the race- all they knew was that they’d placed ahead of them, and with a third, that was hopefully just enough.
The numbers ticked down, and there it was. One final good result and they were shot into fourth place, nine points in front of Superball, whose silver was enough to reach fifth. Reflektor, their competition for the lowest rung of autoqualification, was down in sixth.
Lollipop turned to see Superball grinning. “You did it!” they exclaimed, no mind paid to their own place in the standings. “I knew you could. I’m so happy for you.”
Autoqualification.
A fourth was never as flashy as a podium spot. They wouldn’t be standing high, lapping up the attention of cheering crowds and jealous peers. But come the next season, they’d be amongst the four marbles kicking things off with a friendly round and no need to worry about whether they’d be able to race at all. And Superball…
They’d need to qualify. For the first time since their debut.
“I really did, didn’t I?” laughed Lollipop, exhilarated, still not quite reconciled with the situation. “I hope you don’t feel too bad, because, you know…”
“I’ll be fine. You’ve always tried your best to join me, and I’m going to do the same, alright?”
Lollipop pulled them close, into a powerful hug. Tears welled up at the back of their eyes. “I know. Thank you… Thank you for everything.”
For the first time in Pollo Loco’s racing career, the steps of the final podium were theirs to ascend. Many race podiums had passed over the years, but it was only from the final podium that one could truly preen and celebrate. Even just the sight of Dragon’s Egg being led up to that first step set their heart racing, skipping, thundering with the anticipation of the years that had built up to this one singular moment-
An attendant nudged them forwards. This was it. A silver medal slung around them, the crowd breaking out into raucous cheers and fervent clapping, clapping for them, a thousand eager faces all smiling in unison-
– in the distance, El Capitan, still wearing their own gold medal, their smile the widest and brightest of anyone’s.
–
The day’s celebrations calmed like the breaking of a fever, cooling and cooling as an afternoon’s worth of parties gradually wore at the celebrants. In their youth, Pollo Loco would have laughed and danced through sundown until sunrise, but their ability to endure crowds of hundreds had apparently declined as their racing improved. Not that they weren’t young now, though, they thought as they tapped out after just a few hours, lounging around in their room with El Capitan back at the athletes’ village.
Despite their earlier happiness, the older marble had become distant over their hours together. It was unusual for them, Pollo Loco thought.
“Feeling alright?” they asked, passing another glass of iced tea, making the most of the lobby’s free dispenser for the last time.
El Capitan accepted, wordlessly gulping down the entire glass at once. They appeared briefly lost in thought before turning back to Pollo Loco with a sullen expression.
“It’s all over now, isn’t it?” they mused eventually, as quietly as someone so boisterous could ever be.
Pollo Loco was perplexed “Of course it is. What do you mean?”
“The season,” El Capitan clarified.
“Well… yeah. I know that”
El Capitan nodded, less agreement and more acknowledgement. “I feel I may have… Burned some bridges, you know. With Big Pearl and Wisp of Darkness.”
What? You’re only realising that now? Pollo Loco thought. “Well, they probably won’t take it personally. Racing is racing,” they said instead.
“I overreacted,” they continued mournfully.
Pollo Loco agreed. “…Can’t say you didn’t.”
The two sat in silence by the window and watched the sun descend past the horizon.
“Congratulations,” El Capitan eventually added. “I didn’t say it earlier, so…”
“Thank you. And right back at you.”
(Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
As they watched their abortive attempt at a final “race” play out as a replay on the screen, Big Pearl decided there was nobody on Marblearth they loathed more than Dragon’s Egg. They certainly wouldn’t object to a competitor ruining their own shot at the championship, but stopping them dead in the middle of the track was an act of wanton selfishness that bordered on unforgivable. Yet each time they met Dragon’s gaze, it was as if they were watching only the clouds move in the sky. Apparently, watching the incident that had ended their potential championship run merited no emotion whatsoever.
That… Big Pearl couldn’t stand that.
“How on Marblearth can you just stand there and watch this like it means nothing to you?” they barked above Greg’s narration, marching up to Dragon and meeting their steely gaze with an expression of pure fury.
The emerald marble remained unperturbed, acknowledging them only with the upturn of their brow. Hotter, angrier, bitterly furious- the rage in Big Pearl’s heart swelled and puffed out black smoke.
“It’s your attitude that disgusts me. Standing around and acting cool because you won’t take accountability. That’s what you’re doing right now!”
No response. Big Pearl could huff and puff all they wanted, but Dragon’s Egg would only stand and watch as Ghost Plasma crossed the line to win. Incensed, they leered further until there was but a breath between them and Dragon’s Egg, briefly, finally, catching them off guard.
“Aha! I knew you could hear me. Now, how about you tell me what your problem is-”
“Whew! You guys sure were hiding from me, huh?”
Crap. That was Ghost Plasma. Big Pearl quickly withdrew, assuming an innocuous stance as Ghost Plasma wrapped them both in a hug and drew them closer for a picture.
“Congratulations to the both of you. You gave me a real run for my money, you know.”
Big Pearl sighed under their breath. Their inability to read the room was almost astounding… but if they hadn’t shown up, they might have done something unwise.
Plasma beamed. “Say cheers!” The flash of the camera blared in Big Pearl’s face, drowning the room in white light.
When it dissipated, they were back in the present, a bronze medal around them and Dragon’s Egg to their side.
“I’m sure I’ll feel better about it later,” Big Pearl muttered. “But this was the worst of all outcomes! And you know I’m competitive.”
“I hate to say it, but it could have been worse for me. If things had gone any better for Lollipop… Gratefulness is an art, let’s say that.”
“Could’ve been better,” sulked Big Pearl.
“Could have been better,” concurred Dragon’s Egg. “But look at it this way- we’ll always have next season.”
From the moment they’d rolled out of the collection basin at the end of the final race, Blue Moon hadn’t spent a second alone. First, it was the other racers, then the press, then the fans who had flocked to the sand and the streets in celebration of their win. Only as the sun dipped low and rosy in the evening sky were they released from the furore- not that they were being left to their own devices, as they’d been booked to speak one-to-one for several sports news networks in the area afterwards. The night crept in, and they were finally done with all engagements but one: a talk at a social club for Waxingtonians living in the sandhills region.
For their whole life, nobody had been as interested in them as they were now. Attention like that, so fawning and unreserved, was like eating syrup plain off the spoon- vaguely pleasant at first, then quickly veering off into the unpleasant and overwhelming. Surely their victory spoke for itself. Surely all of the fumbled speeches and press questions were unnecessary. At least here they had been paid for their attendance with a buffet of the venison jerky and berry cider they’d missed from home, but the exhaustion that plagued them remained. Perhaps it would change later, but right now, it felt like they hadn’t won anything at all.
“Are you feeling any better? Ready to go up, maybe?”
That was Buck. Buck owned the clubhouse, and they’d gotten acquainted a few weeks prior. They were a nice marble, and Blue Moon knew that they’d let them go with no hard feelings if they threw in the towel and canceled, yet knowing that made it even harder to do so. They sat and frowned and sighed indecisively in the cramped single room backstage.
“No? I get it,” they added, nodding. “We still have some musicians scheduled, so take your time.”
When they left, Blue Moon sighed and reclined back in their seat. A single overhead light flickered on-and-off in uneven intervals, broadcasting dark shadows at odd angles over the vintage wood panelling. Gnawing at another strip of jerky, Blue Moon returned to the script being built bit-by-bit in their head.
I’m honoured I was able to bring the championship to Waxington–
A knock on the door interrupted their thoughts. Buck again?
“Hi,” came the voice, and it was Buck’s. “Sorry to bother you again, but there’s someone here to see you.”
“…Alright.” After all, what was one more marble?
The door opened just a crack, then fully. Reflektor rolled in alone, Buck all too eager to desert them. They moved slowly, cautiously, gaze never fully meeting Blue Moon’s, as they shuffled in and produced a bouquet of white tulips and midnight-blue anemones.
Blue Moon blinked slowly. “…Are those for me?”
“I… Um… Yeah. I wanted to congratulate you. I thought…”
Blue Moon took the flowers. Perfectly fresh and wrapped in a shroud of silken white cloth, they were a pleasant reminder of the world outside of press junkets and sitting behind microphones.
“Yeah?” asked Blue Moon.
“You deserve them. But, um… I thought I should thank you, too.”
“For what? You lost to me.”
Reflektor sat awkwardly on the room’s single other seat. “Well… I don’t like saying it, but before this season, I was starting to lose my passion for racing. Yeah, I was having fun, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Nothing I did mattered. I met big fans of the Rally who couldn’t even remember my name or what I’d scored previously. Sure, it’s not my real job, but I just thought I’d have achieved more by now. And… Um, this bit is kind of…” Reflektor trailed off nervously.
“Go on,” Blue Moon nodded
“When things were going back and forth between us, I started having fun racing again for the first time in a long time. I know we didn’t really talk- I figured you probably didn’t want to- but I thought about you a lot. How I’d beat you the next time round, or what I’d say to you before the day of the final race for the championship. Our rivalry made me finally think and feel like a real racer.”
A heavy silence, the product of a world that had not come to pass, lingered between the two.
“Then I got overconfident, and I messed it all up. I even lost the autoqualification. But you… You’re really something. And now I know I can’t even compare.”
Blue Moon blushed. “…Thank you. That’s really- um, if it makes you feel any better… that whole time, I thought I was going to lose hopelessly. I mean, you’re so experienced and confident…”
“No way you thought that,” Reflektor laughed, expression relaxing.
“I did, though! Compared to my record, yours is still way better….”
A more comfortable silence overtook the room, the two finally able to exchange friendly glances.
“Um… I have to go up there and give a speech and stuff soon, but once this is over, do you want to go get ice cream or something?”
Reflektor considered the proposition briefly. “I’m a little tired of ice cream right now. How about a proper meal instead? And I can stick around while you’re speaking if you’d like.”
“Alright,” Blue Moon smiled. “I think I’d like that.”
(Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Credits
- Writers: Millim
- Copyeditors/Editors: Io Twelve
- Special Thanks: Foucaulf, Toffeeshop
- Photo Credits: Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Reference: Video Link
- Release: 09/04/2025
Project Marblearth 