I believe she qualifies.

'Who qualifies for what?'

You know what I am referring to.

'A Title? In her first tournament? I struggle to believe anybody would believe her worthy of one at this stage.'

And yet the crowd clamors for one. She has turned out to be quite the phenomenon.

The Arboreal Maiden stood up from her desk, moving rapidly but with poise towards her wardrobe.

'Then we must take advantage of it. I may still decide not to grant her one if she isn't particularly special.'

I believe she has earned a lower title at minimum. Defeating a fourth year veteran is no easy feat for a first year.

'What is her current record?'

She has made it to the sixth round without losing, though it would appear that she is losing her current battle.

'So I will have two rounds to come to a conclusion. Might I ask you to make an entrance to the arena veil in the vicinity?'

That won't pose a problem. Where do you wish to enter? Certainly not the crowd, right?

'The Marshall's box. I will have to confer with him, it may be necessary to make some changes to the current tournament.'

With that, the Arboreal Maiden donned her staff and tapped twice on the floor, an opening in the wood appearing shortly after. The wall she stepped out of was out of view, a private recess in the layout of the box for a conversation to take place should any sensitive information come to him. Once clear of the opening, she tapped twice with her staff once more, the wall returning to its prior status.

This arena, all of the arenas, were contained within veils. They were not nearly as strong as the veil used to cultivate life, but they served the purpose of granting the Great Csillacra absolute control over what happened within these arenas. The method through which the Great Csillacra preserved the lives of the duelists involved some serious manipulation of the veil itself, conditional on what the veil 'remembered' to be an individual, hence the rings.

It was also the reason the arena could be so large. The Veil was a space partially detached from the otherwise standard three-dimensional space. It could be described as 'a variably compressed "volume/space" which has a relative position that can be altered at will,' though she was certain there was a better way to put it.

"What should we do?"

The Marshall was never alone up here, more as a means to react to unforeseen situations than anything else, but his aides were rarely ever granted permission to speak. At least that was what the Arboreal Maiden remembered of the system. It was entirely possible that some changes were implemented throughout the years.

However that was besides the point. The Great Csillacra had failed to prepare her for something, the noise. Perhaps it was because the Great Csillacra lacked the ability to hear, even if it knew there was 'sound' it could not describe it, but 'clamoring' was not the word she would use to describe this.

This was borderline riotous.

Titanyana's name was being chanted louder than the Arboreal could remember any other, even those who received the title of 'von', in the wake of a loss. They wanted to see the rest of her fights, something the vast majority of them would be unable to witness under normal circumstances if she was in the loser's bracket. The Arboreal Maiden was not witness to anything yet, but she could imagine that there was real merit to the Great Csillacra's claim with this much popular support.

"We still have time to make a decision. I shall send a missive to the Arboreal Maiden."

Evidently the Marshall was at a loss, wholly understandable given the spectacle before him. This was unprecedented, which was the biggest problem for him. His views on neutrality were primarily formed by precedent, with situations not explicitly covered having fairly easy interpretations from similar cases. It was a system that had worked for a very long time, but this marked the second time the Arboreal Maiden would be required to 'clarify' for him, the first being the indictment of the Captain.

It was a stain on his reputation, but there really wasn't anything he could do.

"There will be no need for that."

Time for her to build her image as some sort of omniscient, omnipresent being. He would probably figure out how this worked once he actually thought about it, he was privy to some of the Veil's details owing to his position, but for the moment it would be enough to catch him off guard. She literally walked out of a wall just now, so there wouldn't be anyone to warn him of her approach.

"I have already arrived."

The speed at which both the Marshall and his aide went from contemplation to fear pleased her greatly. It had been a while since she had performed something that could be considered a prank, and she found the momentary terror quite amusing. Both of them were on a knee in short order though.

"My Lady!"

"Calm, Marshall, I do not wish to cause a commotion." She raised a hand to keep him from speaking further. "The Great Csillacra informed me of the commotion, though I must admit it has far exceeded my expectations. Now, speak. I wish to hear what your struggle is."

A momentary silence as the Marshall collected himself.

"My Lady, I find myself in a predicament to decide. I simply cannot balance the merits and demerits of my options, I cannot clearly see which choice is the most neutral."

"Hmm. I feel I know what those choices are, but it is your duty to inform me what those are in this scenario."

"I understand." The Marshall took a deep breath. "I find myself pondering whether or not providing the crowd the pleasure of watching their favored combatant as they would those in the running for becoming champion. The only violation of neutrality I can think of is that conceding to their demands would reduce the exposure that other combatants will receive, but I don't know if that truly is biased."

"Ah, I understand." The Arboreal Maiden had already worked out how to justify her desired option to the Marshall. "In this scenario, I believe the most correct course of action is to grant the audience their request."

"Might I ask . . . why?"

"Of course, it is a fairly complicated thing all things considered. While it is true that it would not be neutral to provide a focus on that combatant in particular, we must consider the reasons why such focus is reserved for the winners in the first place. I assume you have an understanding beyond tradition?"

"Of course. We provide a focus on the prospective champions in the interests of time, the tournament would go on far too long if we provided that same treatment to everyone else."

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"That is only half correct. The other reason that is done is to satisfy the desires of the audience. Historically speaking, the most interesting and entertaining fights take place amongst the winners, that is where champions are likely to reside after all, and we have a duty to provide that enjoyment not because it is neutral, but because it is what the audience has paid for. Every single person in that crowd, begging for that duelist's remaining matches to be broadcast has been promised the highest quality entertainment we can offer by way of implication. Perhaps the Merchant would have understood, that being his area of expertise, but please rest well understanding I did not expect you to know this."

"But . . . what of the other participants?"

"It is unfortunate, but we have to take a biased stance against them in this scenario. Our implicit promise to them was only the chance that they would receive the favor of the audience, the majority of them are unlikely to enter the public eye. This specific combatant has demonstrated that their skill can capture the audience's affection, and we are similarly obliged to make good on out implicit promise to them."

The Marshall looked down, contemplating amidst the thunder. "Is neutrality really an impossibility?"

"In this scenario? It is unavoidable. When presented with two options that present similarly biased results, to take action or remain inert in this case, we must consider which party we will fulfill the most promises to. Of course, there are also scenarios where not taking action is best, especially when we do not have a promise to fulfill to either side of a conflict. It has been the core of our foreign policy since the Sanctum's inception, after all."

With that the Marshall nodded, enlightened in some way. "I shall act on your will forthwith."

- - - - -

ping pack

Titanyana deflected the two needles thrown at her by her final opponent. Calling them 'needles' probably wasn't right considering their size, maybe darts would be better. Regardless, sharp objects were being thrown at her, which was a problem. It was even more of a problem that these objects were thrown accurately.

Now they weren't the fastest, Titanyana could redirect or dodge them, but they ruined her tempo and forced her to stay on guard.

Titanyana retaliated by charging, her opponent needed time to get new weapons in her hands. She swung her sword in a wide arc as she passed, which would have bisected a normal opponent, which revealed the second issue Titanyana was having. She couldn't hit her opponent.

She was unable to determine if it was because she was smaller than she appeared under those black robes, or if she was utilizing some form of specialized movement, but it always seemed like Titanyana's blade was just a little bit too short to deal damage. It was honestly kind of humiliating.

ping ping

Two more needles, two more hazards on the field. Just how many of these needles was Nemo hiding?

"This isn't going anywhere." Nemo correctly saw the way this battle was going. with the weapons they were currently using, damage to the other was impossible. She could dodge Titanyana, Titanyana could block her. "Daggers or short sword?"

"Hm?" Titanyana tilted her head slightly. She was maintaining a defensive stance, but she was still receptive to conversation.

"Which do you want to fight against. I am proficient in both."

"Hmmm . . . sword." Titanyana just didn't want to deal with daggers. She might have the range advantage against them, but they could be dual wielded easily, and she didn't have the confidence block someone agile enough to dodge her with a faster weapon.

Nemo pulled out a short sword out from behind her back, a scabbard probably hiding in the robes. "Very well. Let's continue."

They rushed each other, Titanyana electing to hold the defensive role for the engagement. She trusted herself to be fast enough to deflect or dodge Nemo's attacks, and maybe she would be able to see through that strange ability to dodge. Perhaps a counterattack was in the cards. She received the first slash, blocking it with the flat of the blade which was normally ill advised to see Nemo's reaction. Her slash turned into a stab, keeping the blade closer to her body.

The hair on Titanyana's neck stood on end as she moved to parry this strike, still parrying but sacrificing her stance to get real close to Nemo. Here she would have to make a pretty large movement to properly attack, but she was safe from the surprise Nemo had in store for her.

In her 'free' hand Nemo was holding one of those needles, and she had stabbed towards Titanyana with a wide swing around the other side. If Titanyana had stayed static in her parry she would have been stabbed in the shoulder, her dominant sword arm, and would probably have lost in short order.

Now with her back to an opponent that was as close to fully extended as she could ever hope for, Titanyana correctly judged she had enough time to actually get a slash off. Continuing her rotation around and underneath Nemo's sword arm (as opposed to the needle arm) Titanyana swung her blade around. She actually drew blood!

"Dirty." Titanyana spat at Nemo, her tail swaying wildly behind her. She was absolutely incensed that someone would resort to concealed weapons like that when accepting an exchange of swords.

"That's war." Nemo pressed a hand onto the robes on her shoulder, her hand a dark crimson when she removed it. The wound wasn't deep, nor would it inhibit Nemo much, but it was a hit. "I think it should start taking effect now."

"?"

"Well, whatever. I'll oblige your desire to fight for now. Come, no more tricks." She dropped the needle in her off hand.

This action elicited Titanyana to throw a needle she had picked up back at Nemo, which Nemo caught effortlessly.

"Liar." Titanyana had only thrown one needle, but there were two in her hand. Evidently the one she had cast aside was meant to misdirect her. "Dirty dirty." Now she let her discontent show clearly on her face.

"Hmph. I suppose hiding it isn't going to help anymore."

Nemo threw both of the needles at Titanyana with one hand, forcing Titanyana to dodge or deflect them while she approached. By the time she was in range to attack there was yet another in her hands. Just how many of these did she have?

- - - - -

The ensuing fight was observed very carefully by the Arboreal Maiden from above. She had witnessed her duel with Zhoie, immediately recognizing her talent and deciding that she was indeed deserving of a title, but her attention to this match was due to something else entirely.

"I will have to admonish her later."

"My Lady?"

"Ah, my apologies. The woman in black is one of my kin, you see, and I have made various rules with regards to their presence here in the Sanctum. At the moment she is coming far too close to violating one of them."

"Rules? I am not aware of any governing specific races."

"You aren't supposed to be. It is quite unfortunate, but we are fairly dangerous to be around under certain circumstances, and the only person they listen to is me. It is nothing to concern yourself over."

She said that, but she had a feeling there was very much going to be something he should be concerned about.

- - - - -

Titanyana felt herself slowing down. It wasn't that big a difference all things considered, but she was beginning to get sluggish. Her heart was beating like a war drum too, faster and louder than normal during a fight.

"Dirty!" She yelled it out after a particularly brutal clash, Titanyana had been poisoned and she knew it.

She just didn't know when it happened.

"Like I said, that's war." Nemo charged again.

In the distance Titanyana could hear the crowd cheering for her, but is was slowly being drowned out. With one last clash of blades, Titanyana fell back, Nemo obliging her. By this point it had progressed to the point where she could barely hold her blade.

"Now should be the right time."

As if on queue, Titanyana's sword fell out of her grasp and she collapsed on one knee. Defiantly, she stared down her opponent. She had lost, but she had not once received a blow. She would consider herself the winner in that regard, having cut her opponent.

Suddenly she was back outside the ring, met with a chorus of jeers and insults, not towards her of course. Understanding she had lost, even if she felt like she had won, Titanyana crawled to her feet and sheathed her sword. Slowly trudging towards her levee, she looked at a very concerned Donovan. Her heart began to beat heavily once more, was he disappointed? That wouldn't do. Neither would pity for that matter, for her people she needed to be strong!

Well, she supposed he earlier performances were pretty pitiable too, what with having to cover her ears from the noise. Thankfully it wasn't that much of an issue this time around, kind of. The beating of her heart combined with the lower pitches of the crowd meant it didn't hurt as much. She did wonder why she felt a bit out of breath though, and why she was so tired. After effects of the poison maybe?

It was only once she started swaying did she grow concerned. Her vision was going dark too, but she didn't have enough time to worry about it until she passed out.

- - - - -

The Arboreal Maiden tapped the floor with her stave as soon as she saw the little Nekh begin to fall.

'Quickly!'

- - - - -

Donovan noticed that something was wrong the moment Titanyana stood up. It had nothing to do with the match. It was just a feeling he got from looking at her. Her ears, normally quite twitchy, were lethargic. Her tail, which swayed even when she lacked energy, was hanging uncomfortably limp behind her. Her grip on the sword was unstable, her gait was off, even her face didn't seem 'right'. Perhaps individually these effects would be nothing, just consequences of her mood, but combined they activated the instincts every Terran had some degree of.

He could tell that Titanyana was not healthy like she should be.

It was these very instincts that prompted him to dart off the levee towards his teacher and squire before she even began to fall.