Hours later, an arrow shot straight and true from a singing bow. It plunged into the red on the target, and the crowds cheered. None of the other members of the competition had done nearly so well. Estela smiled triumphantly.

"Estela is doing well in the contest, isn't she?" said Ronald as another contestant was disqualified.

"She's gotten similar points to elven champions," said Relma, feeling awed despite herself.

On and on, the cheers went. This was the first time in decades that anyone had beaten the elves at their own game. Andoa II legalizing the participation of elves had seen them dominating the sport. Now a human was in the last three.

"The crowd certainly seems to like her," said Relma. Then she looked to Garrick Estov. He was now one of two remaining rivals. Every shot Estela had taken had been in the red. The same was true of Garrick.

So it was no surprise when the other elf, a high elf named Everest, was finally defeated. He'd been dispatched by Queen Dawn and had dominated before now. Relma felt sorry for him as he walked off the field. But she knew she shouldn't; not everyone could win.

But she did.

At least Everest would be getting a third-place prize.

"Who is that anyway?" asked Ronald, pointing to Garrick. He'd gotten in late, just in time for the finals.

"That one?" asked Relma. "His name is Garrick. He was in the tournament stands."

"Why didn't I see him then?" asked Relma.

"Dust Elves are very good at remaining unseen," said Aunt Pan where she was sitting a bit away. She was knitting, pausing only every now and then to look up. "It's their great virtue."

"So this Garrick, is he any good?" asked Ronald. "At sword fighting, I mean."

"Well, he wields a sword as larger as he is tall," said Aunt Pan. "I have not seen him in action. However, I am told he is a mercenary of some renown in Sorn. He isn't a knight, of course, although he is a member of an order of knights. Though knighthood doesn't exist in Sorn.

"It's complicated."

Relma blinked. "Now hang on a moment, I had to" She paused. "I mean, if a human or halfling who wasn't a knight wanted to get in, they would have to get a magical disguise or something. So why should this Garrick be able to enter?"

Aunt Pan shrugged. "Dust Elves don't have a feudal system. They are a meritocracy. Though they pay for it with cutthroat politics.

"Since they don't have knights, there is an honorary system so they can be represented."

"Honorary system?" asked Relma.

"Sir Frederick says the Dust Elven communities are given special rules. They elect someone to represent them in tournaments," said Ronald. "As long as they have proof that they are such a representative, they can get in."

"Why not just tell them to knight somebody and follow the rules," muttered Relma.

"Does that not apply to you as well?" asked Aunt Pan.

Relma paused. "Oh. Um... a good point. Actually, uh, Estela and Edward De Cathe saw right through my disguise. There might be some kind of weakness to people I know."

"Don't be foolish," said Aunt Pan. "I didn't bother casting a spell."

Relma blinked. "Why not?"

"Never use magic when a proper conversation will do, dear," said Aunt Pan. "I simply went to Steward Benarus and explained the situation. I then talked to Edward De Cathe and Estela, who I knew would be joining, and told them not to make a scene of it.

"Everyone else at the tournament doesn't know you to begin with. So unless they met you as Relma, there would be no way to connect the fact."

"But why would Steward Benarus allow it?" asked Relma.

"Because it is a good plan," said Aunt Pan. "And I convinced him as such. If he ever hands things over to you, you'll have to be popular. And nobles respect skill at arms. This is a way to demonstrate both."

"But what if I wasn't ready?" asked Relma. "I mean, I've only had a few months of training."

"You have an unfair advantage," said Pan. "That's why I'm hoping you'll lose. Defeat is educational."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," said Relma. "You didn't answer my question about why we can't just get a lord to knight them."

"When a lord knights someone, it gives them a sort of claim over that person," said Aunt Pan. "Nothing official, but there is an unspoken obligation. Dust Elves don't like being obligated to anyone. Have you ever heard of Arraxia?"

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"No, who was she?" asked Relma.

"One of the most horrific murderers ever," said Ronald. "Escor tried to exert authority over her people. In response, she started the Escorian Civil War."

"Don't be foolish, Ronald," said Aunt Pan. "The Escorian Civil War would have happened anyway. It was only a question of when and how."

"What do you mean?" asked Relma.

"It is complicated," said Aunt Pan. "The line of Escorian Kings had been discredited in a series of defeats. Both from the Viokins from the north and the Barabassians to the west. Individual noble houses had gained more and more power. Many of these noble houses wanted to become king.

"Father and I spent years trying to patch things up. For a moment, we even thought things might work out. The friendship of Rundas De Chevlon, Erik Gabriel, and Malca Vortegex was our great hope."

"You mean Erik the Voyager?" asked Relma, having heard the name.

"Yes," said Aunt Pan. "At the time, the Gabriel family was unimportant, and Rundas was a rebellious teenager. Malca was his oldest friend. They had many adventures and traveled across the entire world. Stories are told of them in lands thousands of miles away.

"Eventually, they returned in glory. Rundas De Chevlon became the head of the family, while Erik and Malca founded their own houses. They became very close."

"So what happened?" asked Relma.

"Well, my hope was that Rundas would marry one of his daughters into the Royal House," said Aunt Pan. "Unfortunately, King Valence Tirius III hated the De Chevlon's passionately. But he had no son. So he offered Erik a political marriage instead.

"Erik took the marriage and was set to become King of Escor.

"Unfortunately, Valence also tried to force the Dust Elves into the fold. They resisted. Violently. The De Chevlon's took the Dust Elves' side, and so began the Escorian Civil War.

"Oh, and there was something about a vampire conspiracy battling werewolves. Or something to that effect. Honestly, it didn't seem very important to me. Father was the one who dealt with that part of things. Though I gather House Vortegex disagreed with my assessment. At least they used it to justify their betrayal of the De Chevlons."

Relma blinked. Why would vampires and werewolves be unimportant? "That's all very complicated."

"You'd best learn to follow all this, dear," said Aunt Pan. "If you ever rule anything, you'll soon learn that Kings have to deal with this kind of conspiracy all the time."

"Quiet!" said Ronald. "The final round is happening."

Estela and Garrick walked out onto the field. Taking their place before the targets, they strung their bows and took stances. Then Garrick looked to Estela. "You are remarkably skilled for a human."

"We Vortegex's have a passion for archery," said Estela proudly. "And I have a talent."

"Then, by all means, take the first shot," said Garrick.

Estela bowed, then drew her arrow. Setting it to her bow, she hesitated for only a moment. Then he drew back and loosed with a twang. The arrow shot swiftly and surely and struck the target dead center. Relma arose and cheered. The crowd cheered with her. Estela leaped.

"Yes!" cried Estela. "A perfect bullseye! There is no beating that!"

"I shouldn't count your eggs before they hatch," said Garrick.

"He's just blustering," said Ronald. "What is he going to do? Split the arrow in half?"

"Don't be foolish," said Aunt Pan. "That isn't possible. Not with a normal bow and arrow, anyway. There isn't enough surface area on an arrow for the point to imbed itself; the momentum would make it bounce off. Besides, the archery contest is determined by points. So he need only do something more impressive than what Estela has done on his own target."

"Tell me, Lady Estela," said Garrick. "Would you mind if I did something creative with my target?"

Estela looked at him oddly, then shrugged. "By all means."

Garrick walked into the place and drew out a cloth of dark fabric. The crowd was silent, waiting on edge. The only sound was a bird chirping in a tree, just beyond the target range. Garrick wrapped the black cloth around his eyes.

"What is he doing?" asked Relma.

"Tying a blindfold around his eyes, I would guess," said Aunt Pan.

Garrick secured the blindfold. Then, drawing an arrow back on his bow, he fired. The arrow shot straight and true and landed dead center on his target. The crowd went wild with endless cheering. Garrick removed his blindfold and allowed himself a small smile.

Estela stared. "...How did you do that?"

"I have very keen ears," said Garrick. "A bird was chirping on that tree over there." He motioned. "I listened for it and used the sound to aim my shot." He paused. "Don't stop on my account. By all means, take your second shot."

Estela looked around. This was bad. Estela had to do something awe-inspiring to beat that. And even if Estela did the same feat as Garrick, it would be less impressive. She looked to a servant. "You! Get me twenty axes which can hang from walls, now!"

They waited as the request was obeyed. Relma shifted nervously as Estela received her axes. Taking them, she set them up, one by one, planting each one in a perfect line. A line leading to another target. Each one had a ring from which it would be hung from a wall.

"What is Estela up to now?" asked Relma.

Estela looked around. "I'm going to shoot this arrow through all of the rings in these axes."

"A challenging shot," noted Garrick. "Are you sure you aren't setting yourself up for failure?"

"I know what I'm doing," said Estela.

She drew an arrow and pulled it back. For a long moment, she held the arrow in place. A bead of sweat fell down her brow. She blinked it away. Then she launched.

The arrow was launched. It went clean through every ring and struck the target dead center. Deafening cheers went up throughout the stands. It went on for minutes, and Estela smiled before bowing.

Garrick nodded. "...Well done; I admit I haven't met a human with your skills in some time. Still, there remains a yet more impressive feat to make. It would be impossible to make it more difficult, of course. Not without planning, we have no time for it.

"So why don't we up the stakes.

"Rusun, come forward." He said to the stands.

Out of the stands walked a elven dust boy. He looked about Relma's age, which meant he was much older. They were each holding an apple. Walking to the target, they lined up, and each balanced an apple on their head.

Garrick set an arrow to his bow.

"What are you doing?" asked Estela.

"This is my friend and associate," said Garrick. "And my nephew. He has come to this place to meet me alongside his parents, who dwell in the Dusk Lands to the East. I am going to shoot an apple from his head.

"Stand still."

"You're insane," said Estela. "What if you hit him?"

Garrick looked at her blankly. "Then I will be emotionally affected for a time."

"This is going too far," said Estela.

"Ah, perhaps it has. But I mean to win this tournament," said Garrick. "Rusun has risked life and limb in contests of arms before. This is but one more."

"He's family," said Estela.

"Yes. Yes, he is," said Garrick.

He drew back his bow and fired in an instant. The arrow shot straight through the apple and pinned it to the target. Even larger cheers came. The crowd was screaming itself hoarse. Garrick turned to Estela. "Now, would you care to match my gamble?"

"Gamble?" asked Estela. "You just shot an arrow over the head of your nephew."

"I know," said Garrick. "You and I are now both subject to the law of escalation. You scored a perfect bullseye, necessitating my use of the blindfold. I made the shot, requiring you to use the axe handles. So now we have gone from cloth and metal to flesh and blood.

"If you cannot contest me in this, you need only fire a shot, and the contest is over.

"Or, you can call forward someone very dear to you and hope they heed the call. And trust in your skill that they will not be harmed.

"Make your choice."

Estela remained silent. If she didn't do just that, she'd lose the contest. Estela hated losing at anything. She drew an arrow and set it to her bow. Lining it on target, she pulled back.

Then she lowed the bow and looked to the crowd. "...Relma, come forward."

Relma stopped. She didn't like the idea of standing before a target. She knew Estela was a good shot, but what if she missed? But if she stayed here, she'd humiliate Estela.

"Don't do it. Relma. You could get hurt." said Ronald.

"Estela will lose if I don't," said Relma.

"She could lose anyway, and if she does, you could die!" said Ronald.

"Stay where you are, Relma," said Aunt Pan. "This is absurd. The contest should have never gone this far. I will not let you get hurt for the sake of Estela winning-"

Relma was not listening anymore. She was the last Heir of Kings. Until she had children or killed Baltoth, she could not die. Right, right, so Estela couldn't miss her. That was what Relma told herself as she walked forward.

She reached Garrick, who drew out one of the red fruit. "You may use this."

Relma took it and walked in front of a target. She did her best to balance the fruit on her head, but it took several times. Her hands were shaking. She was afraid, and once again, she felt detached.

Estela drew back her bow. "Stay still, Relma."

"I recommend firing quickly," said Garrick. "Hold your shot too long, and your hand may shake."

Estela held the bow in place. Her hands were shaking, but she steadied them. For a moment more, she held it, aiming. Then there was the twang of a bowstring, and Relma felt a piercing sensation in her chest.

She reeled backward, the apple falling from her head. An arrow was sticking out of her, and her eyes were dark...

"Relma!" she heard Estela scream. And then it was over.