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MEMORY.03

Today marks my first triumph.

Clutching a length of platinum-plated rope, I take the steps of the stadium two at a time until I come to a stop atop the world. It’s an exhausting climb after fighting for an entire week against my strongest peers in the outskirts villages, but the view is worth it all. My face flushes with warmth as I look out over the filled arena. The approval of an entire peoples thunders back.

Not even Mars’ guiding hand could help me up the final ascent to this summit. This is my victory alone. Years of knowledge, months of introspection, and moments of inspiration culminated in the skills I debuted to win. Tay has been my constant muse throughout it all, but it’s the differences between us that set this stage. If she is the wind, I am the tides. Whittling away at my challenges through consistency rather than flashes of tempestuous power. We need each other all the same. Without wind, water stills. And without oceans, there is no life for the gentle breezes to caress.

The metal I hold means nothing to me. My focus is on the horizon. The spectacle, the sounds, the flashing lights bleed away as I look out over the mountainous horizon. Snowflakes dance across my nose. Icy wind forges the memory harder. They cheer beneath me for what feels an eternity, a roar of wordless noise and excitement. I could listen to it forever.

The moment wanes as the cheers splinter and news streams drift closer to the stage, hungry for interviews. Press from the villages and capital wait in equal numbers. My presence here is contentious for boundless reasons, not the least of which is the dichotomy of my birth. It’s an insular culture here at the edge of the Section. To most, the dual life I’ve lived attending these schools with Tay is enough to satisfy the needs of their honor. To the older conservatives who brood by the exits, I’m a half-and-half carnivore from the capital that should never have been allowed entrance. My victory brings their people no acclaim. It’s just a reminder of why they bow to the capital, and why no son of their fields has ever sat on the throne.

If they had their way, their most vivacious scion would have won instead of me. A gold-and-silver girl of simple moods and hapless, entrancing accent, she’s being bombarded by questions lower down the stage. Her wolf pelt falls far shorter than the golden lion beside it. She holds a silver rope in her one hand, clutching it to her heart. JOY off. Tears shine in the corners of her eyes. Laugh and wipe them away all she will, she cannot hide the emotion. Nor would anyone ask her to. Third place is still a bitter loss for someone like her.

“This year’s village circuit champion: Thane!”

They roar again, shouting my name in the mess of noise this time. I bow deep to the crowd, less to the administrators, and descend the stage.

Tay meets me with a kiss at the bottom of the steps, standing on tiptoes just to do it eye to eye. Eyes so deep a red they almost melt with emotion. She’s so cold under her cloak. I hold her on her toes and kiss her again quickly, just for myself. Then I smile and break away and we both laugh as I take her hand under the platinum drake scales draped over my shoulders. She’s already talking about what dinner we’ll get after the long ride home. Not about the loss. Nor about her father’s missing presence amongst the crowd.

Mars is gone, as he often is. Off waging another battle, protecting another Section, fighting the battles of tomorrow, not today. His constant absence in Tay’s life never seems to bother her. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one who thinks it wrong that I stand here in his place. A father to fifteen million people, so often he neglects to spend time with the one who should matter most. But she’s always rebounding, never staying down for long.

I squeeze her hand for reassurance. Swearing again that I will not let this life take me as it did him.

And then I still.

Behind her, on the other side of the still-emptying stadium, a figure I never thought I would see in this place towers over our team’s coach. My eyes are drawn to the giant on a compulsion, recognizing the unease that parts the crowd in a wide circle around his presence. Tay’s fingers slip from my hand as I come to a stop, alone and immovable while the pack of our teammates flows on towards the exit.

She looks back in confusion.

“Go ahead,” I say, nodding to the rest of the team. “I’ll catch up in the garage.”

“You sure?”

“Just need a minute.”

Her worried expression disappears a moment later as one of the juniors sweeps her off her feet in celebration. Crossing my arms under my pelt for warmth, I skip out of the crowds and skirt along the edge of the stadium, heading towards our coach. The man is dwarfed by the monolithic warrior beside him. A titan whose shadow stretches for hulking meters beneath the spotlights. The news streams respect his reputation by veering away to record elsewhere. As does anyone within earshot.

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Call him what you will, the titan knows what it means to cultivate an image. Even if it is a fearful one. Wings like twin war banners, tail like a serpentine club dragging through the snow. His body is a gargoyle visage of pure platinum metal with a simple faceless helm, three meters of height, and all the implied malice of a loaded weapon with the safety off.

Gami, a rising elemental in the major league, is a figure anyone would recognize almost as easily as they recognize Tay’s father. He is as iconic for his metal as he is his peerless control of it. League analysts predict he’ll be the first warrior in almost five years to make a challenge for the champion’s throne. Given the way he’s dismantled the professional scene on his climb to prominence, it’s hard to imagine otherwise.

The titan’s voice rumbles out like a volcano as I approach, deceptively casual in spite of its depth. I shift one of my classes to Hunter and sharpen my hearing as I approach, ignoring the cold feeling seeping into my gut. Though Gami’s head never turns in my direction, I can feel his attention on me every step of the way. An invisible pressure weighing down my shoulders.

“…to be blunt, I have been searching the Section for someone worthy of being my apprentice,” he’s saying to the coach. “Many professional fighters take at least one. I thought I might do the same to help better my reputation.”

The man says some patronizing quip about Gami’s infamy. A courtesy, of course. Few people enjoy the Elemental’s soulless, calculating method of combat. His detractors call it a betrayal of the spirit of fighting. Gami makes another noise I think is supposed to sound like amusement, then finally eyes me as I approach. His blunt, helmet-like head looks down on me from on high. No eyes with which to see. It doesn’t seem to keep him from perceiving like normal. Benefits without detriments.

“Young Thane. Your victory was well worth watching.”

I incline my head downward, traditional village humility. “I did not think my performance worthy of a professional’s praise. You honor me.”

“Honor where honor is due. You possess an invigorating talent of a nature I have only seen once before. Your usage of the Shifter class is revolutionary. And shifts of classes themselves are a concept I have seen so thoroughly explored.” His helm turns marginally back towards my coach. “I was consulting with your sponsor about the matter that brought me here.”

I cross my arms beneath my cloak. “You seek someone to mentor.”

“I do. I believe guiding a student into the university leagues would be a worthwhile investment of my time.”

“It certainly may be.”

Gami rumbles out another amused note. I can’t quite call it a laugh. He flicks his tail and begins to walk away from the coach, wordlessly implying for me to follow. The chaos and noise of the emptying stadium fades as we drift further from my teammates, chased by snow flurries.

“Let us not waste words, Thane. You are a rare talent. After seeing your skills in person, I am prepared to offer you a position as my apprentice.”

Sweat prickles and freezes on my brow. I choose my next words carefully, laying a test of the depth of Gami’s knowledge.

“If it’s talent you seek, you would do better to pursue the girl who took third. Anyone could see she possesses a tenacity no other competitor did.”

Gami needs not move to dismiss the notion. “She does not fit my aims. I suspect her current patron would not be amenable to an advance, either.”

A brutally simple answer. He knows about Tay and Mars. I conceal my surprise and continue to listen.

“This apprenticeship will not distract from your other priorities. A few events when you are in the capital, mostly. Some trips abroad. Training with other professionals. If you flourish, I will teach you to master my classes and add them to your repertoire. You will have my support and recommendation wherever you go. Fame, influence… nothing will be beyond your reach. You will be able to make the world as you see fit.”

“Lofty promises,” I say, casting a glance back to where Tay still waits. “But not ones I desire. I train with professionals already. It is the only reason I stood on the summit today.”

“I understand our Champion has an interest in you as well. His showmanship bleeds into your own.”

Gami wants me, that much is clear. He is keen, and beyond that, his words suggest greater aims than a mere apprenticeship. And he cuts through every diversion I might try by diving straight for the kill.

“I saw something in your eyes today, when you stood on that stage,” Gami says. “A sentiment I recognized quite easily.”

Of all the things I expect him to say next, least among them is the truth.

“You want more.”

An insidious nausea curls in my stomach. Time slows as we stand in a shadow between the spotlights. The arena drains on around us, not a soul hearing the devil’s bargain.

“You will always want more,” Gami says, turning his back. “And I can give it to you.”

His tail drops a card into my hand. The first seed of doubt.

“For when you are ready, Thane. We will change the world, you and I.”