The crowd was silenced by the entrance of the two Griidlords. They marched into the arena and with them came hushed awe. My own heart skipped a beat. Our huge city-state held more than a million souls. Only five of them were Griidlords. These beings were scarcely seen.

I looked on them, absorbing their obvious power, seeing the glory of their simple presence, and wondered if I really dared to aspire to be like them.

Alya Vaelstrom’s Griid-suit was painted in the colors of Boston: deep blue, bright red, and silver. A billowing blue cloak flowed behind her as she marched towards us. In her hand, she carried the weapon that named her type. The scepter was long, much longer than her entire body. Its silvery form swelled at the top to form something like a dull oblong spearhead. Wings crafted in silver, each feather shaped to perfection, surrounded the deadly head.

The Scepter was the range specialist of the Griidlord suits. Alya could slay thousands from a distant hilltop. She could rain death on attackers from the top of the tower. The Scepter suit was the only one of the five kinds to not seem to be part of the type-based weaknesses and strength dynamic. Axe bested Sword, Shield bested Axe, but the Scepter was simpler. At range, the scepter killed all other suits. Up close it was comparatively defenceless.

Wilric Magneblade was the stereotype of the act. His posture bristled with a rage and frustration. Every move told the crowd that he had better things to be doing than babysitting us, than posing for the people. Those better things would include killing, killing, and, if there was time, more killing. The Axe suit was the second bulkiest after the Shield suit. Magneblade was tremendously huge alongside Vaelstrom. His axe was bonded to the back of his suit. His was a double headed battle axe, the haft black as knight, the blades composed of ethereal blue light.

Mario continued "The beasts arrayed in the arena below could easily end the life of these precious jewels of our city. There may be nothing we can do to preserve their precious young lives if the Oracle sees fit. But for their safety, and the safety of you, the people of Boston, the true lifeblood that feeds our city, Alya Vaelstrom eschews her other duties to be here, stationed on yonder tower, her power of BEAM ready at any time to intervene to slay a fiend and save a life. It hardly needs to be stated, but if the Scepter of Boston is required to intervene to spare the life of a contestant, that means that the contestant in question has automatically failed and will be ejected."

As he finished, Vaelstrom crouched low, her powerful body tensing and contracting. The Scepter was the least physically powerful of any of the Griidsuits. But even she, the least athletic of the Griidlords, awed the crowd as she sprang, uncoiling the power of the suit. She leaped easily, crossing 50 yards or more, climbing dozens more in height, her arcing jump carrying him to the tower in the center of the field, landing easily, as easily as stepping from a carriage. The crowd erupted at the spectacle.

Mario turned to Magneblade and continued, the crowd hushing, "Lord Magneblade will referee today’s contest. The combatants are permitted to take orbs from one another, may cross blades to impede one another, to seize orbs from one another, as they would with the Griidlords of another land in the wilds if competing for the true Orbs. But they are not here to assassinate one another. Lord Magneblade will move among them as they compete and will ensure that this is a truly fair contest, allowing the will of the Prophet to be truly expressed."

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As he finished, Magneblade casually walked to the edge of the stage and dropped off, falling the 30 or so feet to the ground below as though it was nothing.

I took a moment. I was back in the suit, feeling the power coursing through me, the sensory inputs I missed more and more each evening when I had to leave the suit behind. Mario's blathering gave me a chance to assess where I was. I was intensely aware that Lance had used his time well the day before, had gained more attributes and with the amazing luxury of time had been able to level many of them up. I inspected mine, the subheadings: Combat, Passive, Unique, Fields. I entered the combat menu, inspecting quickly. Time was of the essence, Mario would drop the flag any moment and I needed to assess my growth, decide what to focus on for future matchups with Lance, to build the attributes I most hoped would help me.

MY ATTRIBUTES:

* BEAM: 1.4

* SHIELD: 1.6

* POWER: 0.0

* CUT: 1.9

* AGILITY: 0.0

I looked at the attributes, my CUT was nearly ready to increase a level. I tried to imagine what level Lance's CUT might be at. He had clearly increased beyond level 1. I had seen the way his sword blazed the previous day. Was he at level 2, or even level 3? What effect would that have crossing swords with a level 1? Would it mildly advantage him or allow his CUTS to blast through mine as though I had no level at all? With only 0.1 left to reach level 2.0, I knew I would have to flex or practice until I got there.

BEAM left me disappointed. I had gained it so early and then used it so little. Lance's BEAM had looked the same as mine. He didn’t have my knack for gaining attributes. What had put him ahead was the free time in the suit. My wandered to AGILITY. I had yet to really feel myself flex the attribute. The voice had told me it had nothing to do with the grace and naturalness we felt in the suits as we moved, but I couldn't understand what else it might mean. And POWER—my power was at 0.0. I hadn’t even felt that muscle yet.

Mario had the flag in his hand now. He was still rambling at the crowd, but it was only a matter of time before he raised and dropped it to signal the beginning of the competition. I wouldn’t make the same mistake I had made at the start of the race and fail to notice the contest beginning. I opened myself to the voice, asking it, "What should I do?"

The voice was there. It said, "Why win, silly, isn’t that obvious?"

I thought angrily at it, "I don't have much time, please take this seriously. What attributes should I focus on? How do I work on power?"

The voice said, "The POWER attribute is hard to develop. It's hard to explain. If flexing SHIELD is like trying to find a muscle that sits just outside your skin, then flexing POWER is like finding a muscle that runs through your bones. You’ve been very impressive so far, Tiberius, but POWER is so nuanced, no one starts to develop that until they are a full Griidlord."

This caught my ear. I understood the voice had done well by me so far and that I should heed its advice. But I wondered what kind of advantage the POWER attribute could give me if I did advance it.

I took a deep breath, trying to internalize this. Surrendering control was not easy, especially in the heat of competition. But if I wanted to reach the next level, I would have to trust the suit completely. I focused on my breathing, feeling the suit's power humming through me, and tried to find that place of surrender.

Mario's face lit with excitement, with that vile intensity we had grown so familiar with. He raised both hands high. I saw the flag in his right hand, and as he opened that hand, letting the flag flutter to the ground, he shrieked, "Let us begin!"