Mist sat holding Amanda's hand as Praetorian finished the final repairs, her position giving her a good view of the other teams as they came back in: the human swashbuckler Charles Silverblade entered with a girl on each arm, the tall human mage Rae on his left and the short elf healer Flower on his right, the half-orc brothers Flint and Teak towering behind. The manner in which Charles led the way to his team's circle—the one with the giant skeletal snake—made it seem like they were walking in a ceremonial procession, although of course no one was watching, although of course everyone was.

Soon after Charles and the others had sat down another team came in, led by a stroppy halfling in gleaming armour. Mist recognised her as the paladin Jane Hearthguard. With her was the elf healer Gloria Lightfear—Sly's sister—as well as another halfling and two humans, one tall and well-built, the other in rough clothing with a wide-brimmed hat. Their magic circle held a monster to rival even Raid Fearson's behemoth; a massive lionish humanoid that stood strong in the centre of its temporary prison, muscular arms crossed, great head raised, proud eyes taking in everything.

Next came James Bloodspit and Night Rain, James all swagger and giggles, Night rather bouncier than his usual taciturn self—both of them spotted Mist and waved, James exuberantly, Night with an endearing shyness. Mist waved back, smiling—if it wasn't so close to the judging, she'd have gone to say hello properly. Shortly after this the elven team entered, a tall muscular fighter-type leading the way, a dangerous-looking girl at his side. Praetorian supplied their names when Mist asked; Jak Kingfisher and Dahlia Knifetaunt, both bladedancers. After them came a gaggle of others, all apparently part of the team.

"Isn't there a limit?" Mist asked, as she watched more and more elves enter the hall. "How many people can a team have?"

"Nala would probably know," Praetorian said, with a glance at the dwarf—the only move she'd made since planting herself on the bench had been to cross her arms. "I believe the important point is that no matter how many are in a team the 'fielding limit' remains the same. Points costs and all that, they might have a dozen fine-looking individuals to choose from but only three or four may fight in any particular match."

"Oh." Mist leant forward to watch as the last of the elves joined Jak and Dahlia beside their monster, a sleek bird-like creature made entirely out of sharp bits of metal. Summer Rain had identified it as a 'Knives'. "Is that all the teams?"

"Vampires still to come," Praetorian muttered, once again focusing on Amanda's wounds—he was almost done, just making a few final tweaks to the binding on her leg. Amanda twitched and squeezed Mist's hand as Praetorian ran his fingers over the stitching, and Mist squeezed back.

"You're doing really well," Mist said to Amanda. "It's almost finished."

Amanda didn't respond, except to squeeze Mist's hand again.

"And here they are," Praetorian said, not looking up from his work. "Fashionably last."

Mist looked over as a trio of tall pale girls swept into the hall, followed by a broodingly handsome young man. The three girls stopped in front of the entrance, raven-haired, blonde and brunette; Violet Blaze, Amity Moon and Priscilla Belldandy. Violet had her arms crossed as she slid her superior gaze over the room, Amity ran a hand through her hair before flipping it and inspecting her nails, while Priscilla looked around with interested eyes, her hands demurely crossed in front of herself. Behind them their male companion had found a wall to lean against, dark hair flopping down to his bored eyes, arms crossed, posture impeccably apathetic, his very essence oozing dégagé cool.

"Well," Violet declared. "Just look at what we have here. Such a splendid display of mediocrity, it's enough to make one feel entirely indifferent."

"Mm," Amity agreed, glancing up from her fingernails. "Difficult to get excited about this kind of competition."

"Still, we have our duties and responsibilities," Violet said, and she led the others through the hall, apparently revelling in the hateful glares she attracted—especially from the elven team, whose circle was next to theirs. She curtsied to Jak and Dahlia before raising her perfect eyebrows at their monster. "Oh, how adorable, a knives. I'm sure that'll be, well, let's be honest, of absolutely no help whatsoever once we clash ... assuming you even get that far."

Dahlia Knifetaunt looked ready to leap at Violet and tear out her throat, but she settled down after a calm glance from Jak.

"Lady Violet Blaze," he said, his voice smooth and sure and slightly accented. He gave a small bow, his eyes never leaving hers. "I wonder what it is that gives you such confidence."

"Mm, racial superiority, class advantage, proven competence—take your pick, really."

Jak smiled. "Such an invitation," he murmured, walking forward—he was taller than Violet, but not by much. "I wonder also ... why a shimmerclaw?"

"Oh, this?" Violet waved an airy hand at her circle. Within prowled a cat-like creature, sleek and shimmering as it faded in and out of sight. "Priscilla chose it, she seems to think they're cute ... and the name was adequately quaint." Violet half-turned to scantly regard the shimmerclaw. "It is rather a charming thing, in a translucent sort of way."

"So too could you be called charming," Jak said, leaning close to Violet, his voice soft. "In a ... translucent sort of way."

Violet pretended to shiver. Jak pretended to smile.

"We'll meet you in the tournament," he said, showing his back to Violet and walking to join a smirking Dahlia. "Sooner or later." Jak turned to run his dark green eyes over the vampires, over Amity who rolled her eyes and turned away, over Priscilla who looked down and smiled, over Storm who glowered back with steely eyes ... and resting on Violet, whose gaze hadn't left him for the slightest instant. "And then? At the time we meet?"

Jak left the words hanging, followed them with nothing but a lingering smile before turning away, his team following his lead, even Dahlia giving the vampires nothing more than a violent grin and a savagely offensive hand gesture.

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Back at Team Nala's area Amanda was sitting up on the bench, Praetorian having finished her repairs during the past exchange. She gave a halfway-impressed little grunt.

"I think I kind of like him," she said, as she put on her dress over her tattered rags. "That elf guy."

"He seems really confident," Mist said. "Maybe the elves will win this year."

"I love that our chances aren't even considered," Praetorian said, from where he sat and rested nearby. "Rightfully so, of course, which perhaps adds to the exquisitely painful poetry of the sentiment."

"I ... I didn't mean it like that, I just..." Mist trailed off, looking down at her gauntlets. "Although it is hard to even imagine us winning. All of these teams seem so strong..."

Amanda patted Mist on her armoured shoulder, then looked up—

"Oh. Those must be the judges."

Entering the hall were eight men and women of varying races, all dressed in green and brown robes and wearing high brimless hats. They casually chatted among themselves as they walked, before separating off to each take a team. The judge who approached Mist and the others was a halfling woman with curly brown hair and half-moon spectacles.

"Team ten?" she said. "Captain Nala Greyward?"

"Um, she's sitting over there," Mist said. "But, um, yes, that's us, I guess."

"Let's have a look at what you caught, then." The judge glanced back as she led the others towards the circle. "I'm Judge Highbarrow, but call me Melindy. Now then, Nala?"

Nala raised her head.

"And this would be your monster." Melindy leant forward, peering at the slime over her spectacles—presently it resembled a lumpy blue sausage. "Hm. Points for originality I suppose, can't recall any team ever picking a blue slime for their monster. Still, at least it has a heart core."

Mist perked up at that. "Heart?" she said. "Is that good?"

"Well, it's not bad," the judge said, scrawling something on a scroll. "You can see even now, it's progressing to its developed stage."

"Developed, now that sounds promising," Praetorian said. "Can we expect an increase in strength over that of the common slime?"

"Oh, no," the judge said, with a merry laugh. "'Strength' he says, goodness me. Blue slimes can't attack, about the only thing they're good at is running away. Passable defence thanks to their GooForm intrinsic, but they don't have any of the special abilities that other slime-types get. You should've gone for a tiger slime at the least—or a dark slime, those can be very effective when used correctly."

"So..." Mist trailed off, her gaze on the slime—its surface looked shinier than before, glistening in the warm light. "So what does it actually mean, having a heart core?"

"Mm ... personality, mostly." The judge was speaking to her scroll as she continued to write. "And speech, of course. Most slimes can't talk, at least not to non-tamers."

"Is it rare?" Praetorian asked. "To find such a slime?"

"Not particularly. Most nests have one or two. They act as big sisters, of a kind, or shepherds perhaps ... this one's young, though. In fact I'd say you caught it just after its heart core formed."

"I've never heard of this before," Praetorian said. "Which seems odd, considering my homeland is near overrun by the pestilent things."

"That'd be Auldvyne? Wrong sort of magic over that way, bubbles. You'll get shadow slimes and dark slimes and bat slimes and those sorts, but it's the opposite side of the development ladder. Even your basic blue'd be rare enough in those parts. Nimbus is your ticket if you want heart cores, anywhere with prism magic'll turn 'em up pretty regular."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't pay attention to any of that, I was too distracted by you calling me 'bubbles'."

"Anyway," Melindy said, looking up from her scroll at the slime, "this one'll get its form sorted out soon enough. It's got a good sync with you, girl."

"Me?" Mist said. "Really?"

"Not that it makes much difference. Loyalty stuff only really comes into it with special abilities which, like I said, blue slimes don't have. Still, she likes you."

"It's a 'she'?"

"Far as these things go. You'll see soon enough. For now I'll just give you your ranking—got to be a Z, sorry about that but there's not much I can do with a blue slime."

"No, no," Praetorian said. "We're used to it."

"Good luck anyway." Melindy smiled at the slime. "I couldn't tell you why, but I've always liked these ones. There's something about them, you know? Had one myself back when I was just a wee wildtamer, one of the first monsters I ever captured. Took it with me from Green Glade all the way through to the Rainbow Coast. I almost cried when I synthesised it with a streptile to get a blue drake. Still, no points for sentimentality."

Melindy checked something off on her scroll, then looked around at the team.

"Any questions, then? No? Ceremony's in five minutes, be ready near your circle."

"Um, thank you," Mist said, as Melindy walked off. It seemed theirs was the first team to finish being assessed—Mist could see a human judge speaking to Charles Silverblade about their team's 'death rattle', and Arbie was nodding and looking confused as a tall elven judge blathered on about succubi and their appetites.

"You're looking rather morose," Praetorian said to Nala. "At least you emerged from the test with your demerits intact, one more 'death' and I face expulsion."

Nala looked up at Praetorian, then lowered her head. "You should have used a FeatherToken."

"Yes, well, I would have but I was being eaten at the time."

Behind everyone, her arms crossed and her shoulders hunched, Amanda scowled at the floor. This went largely unnoticed.

"Um, Nala?" Mist said. "I don't ... I mean, we don't ... we don't blame you, or anything, if that's what you're worried about—"

"I'm not worried."

Mist sat next to Nala. "But you seem really down."

Nala raised her head to look at Mist. "'Down'?"

"Oh! Um! I didn't mean—that's not an insult to dwarfs, is it? Sorry!"

"Given your height," Praetorian offered, at Nala's even blanker than usual look. "Or lack thereof."

"I'm not insulted."

"Phew, good. I mean, I'm not that much taller than you, but, um ... are you do—depressed?"

"No."

"Then what?" Mist asked. "You've hardly said anything since we got back, not even about Sly—"

"He used a FeatherToken and was teleported to his home in Fauxgreen."

Mist stared. "Huh? How did you ... actually that would explain a lot of things ... but so why isn't he back here?"

Nala said nothing.

"Come on, Nala," Amanda said. "Even I can see that something's wrong. You're angry at Raid and his guys?"

"I can't be angry. It's only the final attack that matters. That is the rule. They did what we should have done; wait for another team to weaken a monster, then steal the capture." Nala's shadowed gaze went to the blue slime, a quivering tube within the magic circle. "Too late now."

"So okay then," Amanda said. "If you're not sad and you're not angry and you're not ... whatever, then what's all this sulking about?"

"Sulking," Nala said, looking up at Amanda. "No. I have been thinking."

Even as Nala spoke a soft aura rose around her—she raised her hand to see her BrightCircle glowing, then looked past it to see that the others were similarly affected.

"W-what's this?" Mist said.

"Teleportation." Nala stood. "The teams for the Bright Battle Tournament have been decided."

"But Sly isn't here! Gakk isn't here!"

"Like they care about that," Amanda muttered. She stiffly turned her hand around, examining her glowing BrightCircle, then frowned. "Okay, so, what? Why aren't we teleporting?"

"We will be last."

"How do you know?"

Nala bowed her head and drew her cloak around herself.

"They want to finish with something to laugh at."