Welcome to Anchon’s annual Game Day!

It’s hosted during the slightly mistier time of year here in the southern Outer Reaches. Sorry, we don’t really have seasons. Just wet and slightly more wet. The games are meant to celebrate the start of the silverfin migration. Yes, that’s right, when we catch and prepare a whole new shipment to send downriver to our “Fin-Fans.”

And yes… they paint that on the boats now. Not that I blame them. I mean, they do have a fan group for their canned silverfin. That’s saying a lot. I might have a problem with The Rules, but the villagers of Anchon sure knew how to run a locally-sourced, fishing coop. Although, that could be because the commercial fishing outfits didn’t come out here to the fringes and they had relentlessly run every other local fishermen out of business.

However, that unified front didn’t come from nowhere. They ran a tight ship. In fact, this Game Day was more like a “company picnic.” One meant to boost morale and get everyone pumped to work endlessly for months on end with no breaks.

But the games were riveting.

Actually, I’m not even being sarcastic this time.

I mean it. Who wouldn’t love watching their teenaged children beat the ever-living shit out of each other in a game of spiritual rugby? Pads? Armor? Rules? Who needs those when some river mud filled with nimbus will get you patched up nice and quick?

And let’s not forget the money to be made! Everyone was in on the action. Who wouldn’t be? I mean, watching that shithead kid two huts over get his teeth knocked out wasn’t good enough. You needed to bankrupt his parents. Get them into enough debt that they’d sell that little asshole downriver to pay it off.

You think I’m joking? It happened to Fenris.

Oh, who’s Fenris? I don’t know, he doesn’t live here anymore.

And if gambling and light human trafficking isn’t your speed, don’t worry. There’s always gossip. You know, old ladies talking about which teenagers should get together, and, uh, “forge” a few more vessels. Which is weird. Don’t normalize that behavior. Not that the men were much better. They just gathered together in large circles to talk about their “Flow” and recite poetry – uh, sorry, the mantras.

Anyway, my point was that a truly glorious time was had by all.

Except me, for obvious reasons.

My head thunked back against the rough trunk of a willow and I let out a dull groan. I was hidden in the shadows on the far side of the grove – one of many raised islands dotting the marshes. I didn’t want to draw any attention. Yep, I was still covered in kraell shit.

A cheer went up and my attention shifted to my sister. Leandra raced across the field, tall grass swaying gently in her wake. Her dark blue hair – bound by a simple band – snapped at the air and moisture beaded on her skin. Those droplets clung in place, retaining their form despite the way she glided through the fog like a river wraith.

She was circling, waiting for an opportunity to snatch the ball from the much taller and much larger young man that charged down the field.

Jace was big for fifteen cycles and the muscle wrapping his body was a testament to the hours he’d spent working with his father in the forge. Funny how that worked. Almost like he had a full stomach and was given adequate recovery time. Even so, I doubted he would be a match for me in terms of natural strength – my body hardened by the grueling work of tending the nets. And, you know, running for my life…

That was really an overlooked fitness tool.

However, with his fledgling fire spirit’s help, it would be no contest.

A young earth caller moved to block Jace, his skin suddenly coated in rough stone, even as spikes speared from his feet and plunged into the wet earth to anchor himself in place.

Jace didn’t slow, only grinned as he called upon his fire spirit, a red glow suffusing his arms and chest and sending off streamers of steam as the mist touched his skin.

As they collided, the stone caller’s feet were ripped from the ground with a spray of earth, sending him toppling backward. He struck the ground hard, digging a furrow in the dirt. Ahh, he wasn’t moving. Definitely out cold. Oh, and I saw chits being passed around – a lot of them. Looked like he was definitely a shithead.

Even the healer was taking her time to help him, Elder Farris chatting with Elder Elias, the blacksmith, his burly arms crossed as he watched his son dominate on field. Speaking of which, Jace was on the warpath, already leaving another bloodied body in his wake.

“That one’s head must be made of steel. That explains much,” a voice suddenly hissed from the branches overhead.

Shit. As though this day wasn’t going bad enough already.

The mist swirled lazily beside me and a pair of yellow eyes appeared, one giving me a wink. That could only be Fang – a savran, his mist spirit allowing him to blend into his surroundings. His kind were natural hunters, their bodies and affinity for the mist allowing them to easily survive the perils of the Outer Reaches.

He also wasn’t a fan of The Rules, which meant the villagers weren’t a fan of him, and, well… I wasn’t really a fan of any of them.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I whispered.

“Is this how you speak to your dear friend and savior? You would not be alive if not for my aid and wisdom.”

I snorted. “As though you’d ever let me forget it. Now, why are you here?"

“Something startled the game. And there was such a horrid scent coming from…” Fang paused, taking a languid sniff and the mist spiraling. “Hmm, from you.”

I grimaced. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Interesting,” Fang hissed. “So, you know nothing of the kraell I passed? They were chasing a very distressed water spirit—”

“Egg spirit,” I corrected immediately.

Sometimes, I just couldn’t help myself.

A hissing laugh came from overhead.

I let out a sigh. “Fine. I might have tried to steal some eggs.”

“I told you that plan would fail.”

“And you really shouldn’t be here,” I retorted. “If the others discover—”

“You worry for nothing. They have other things on their mind, such as your sister…

“And mating,” Fang hissed.

A resigned sigh. “Why is it always about mating with you?”

“I only speak the truth. They smell of lust.” A shark-like grin hovered in the air to my left before vanishing into a puff of mist. “Perhaps you don’t sense it because you don’t understand,” he hissed. “You have difficulty with your kind, no?”

See what I have to deal with? He was worse than those little old ladies.

Although, he was right, technically. Most of those I’d grown up with had already “forged” a fresh vessel or two, but that wasn’t really an option for the Hollow. Sure, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with that outcome, but—

“I could teach you how to find a mate.” Fang offered happily, his breath wafting against my ear. A scaly hand appeared from the mist, clawed forefinger raised. “What am I, if not an exceptional teacher? It is easy. First, you unhinge your jaw. Second, you force out your dewlap—”

“Stop, stop… See? This is what I’m talking about,” I interrupted quickly.

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There was a long silence, Fang disappearing entirely.

“Okay, what’s a dewlap?” I offered. Then immediately shook my head. “No, no I don’t want to know. Ignorance is probably bliss.”

Fang just hissed out a laugh.

Then, a moment later. “There is not so great a difference between savran and sapien,” Fang observed, his eyes re-appearing and swiveling to the field. “See how they puff their chests as your sister passes. It is a part of step three.”

Another sigh. But Fang wasn’t wrong about that either – at least, not entirely. All of Anchon had made it out for this Game Day. And everyone – man, woman, and child – had eyes for Leandra. It was like the universe shined a spotlight on her at all times. I’m not even joking! Elder Gracen’s air spirit must have pulled back the mist, because a single ray of sunlight shone down on her, making her dew-studded hair sparkle like nimbus gems.

Although, a few of those wandering eyes were pissing me off. That was still my little sister and I doubted that was her spirit they were admiring.

“I think that steel-headed one may finish this,” Fang offered.

Jace had indeed made it most of the way down the field, leaving a string of groaning teenagers in his wake. He’d knocked another two out cold and was nearing the goal – an old bucket ringed with smooth, white river stones and guarded by a lone forest caller. It certainly looked like Jace was about to score – ending this match.

However, I had had the privilege of listening to Leandra chatter about the many, many, many strategies she’d developed. All while I hauled along the blankets upon which the other villagers sat, the stones that marked the goals, and even those old, splintered buckets. I’d had to make a return trip just to haul out the bait for the kraell. And later I’d have to carry it all back again. Yet I wasn’t bitter. Not at all.

Okay, maybe a little.

Either way, I also knew Jace – knew just how stubborn he could be…

Hmm, perhaps there was another way to salvage this wreck of a day. You could even say that I felt the “spirit” of Game Day move through me.

“You want to make a bet?” I asked.

Yellow eyes peered at me, inches away, narrowed to thin slits. “Ahh, it’s rare for you to gamble. Makes one suspicious.”

I tilted my head. “Yes or no?”

“It would be unwise to accept without knowing the stakes.”

“Three ventu carcasses when Leandra’s team wins.”

“Don’t you mean ‘if?”

“I meant what I said.”

“Can you even honor that bet?” A scaly finger stabbed at my side. “The hunter is quite thin. Not a good sign.”

“You know I have to hand over my official prey to the elders.”

A grunting hiss was my only response as Fang’s eyes disappeared.

It was my turn to poke at the Savran. “Of course, if you’re scared…”

I may as well have insulted Fang’s broodmother.

Just wait for it…

A pause, and then. “Deal,” Fang hissed, the mists swirling as he swished his tail in a sign of irritation – giving away his location. I knew how to get under his scaly skin too.

While we spoke, Leandra had begun her play, abandoning caution and charging straight at Jace, water beading along her skin and her form a blur of mist. In response, the fire caller braced himself – planning to rely on his superior strength and weight.

I just shook my head…

Just before the pair collided, water spread across Leandra’s skin in a thin film – stretching like a soap bubble and lasting only a heartbeat. She bent around her opponent in a single, fluid, boneless movement, causing the mists to swirl and twist in her wake as she dodged him. For good measure, she also kicked at the back of his leg and it buckled.

I smiled. That one had been my idea.

Asshole always forgot to enhance his legs.

Before the larger youth knew what had happened, he was crashing to the ground, thrown off balance as he improperly shifted his weight to anticipate the impact. He tried to enhance his chest and face, flames flickering, but he was moving just a hair too—

Oof. That one looked like it’d hurt.

He’d actually left a small trench in his wake. One he dug with his face.

And Leandra was speeding across the glade, leather ball now in hand.

Raw strength was no match for grace.

“Clever,” Fang hissed, reluctantly. He sounded worried.

But he hadn’t seen anything yet…

Leandra wound and spun through the other defenders with little difficulty, her laughter filling the air and delight pulling at her lips. This was the problem with water spirits. They were fickle and hard to call, but, assuming a vessel’s nimbus was sufficient, even an infant water spirit was capable of dramatically enhancing a caller’s natural speed, reflexes, coordination, and balance. And Leandra’s had already matured to a fledgling…

Within seconds, only a single player stood on the far side of the field beside a plain wooden bucket – the last thing standing between Leandra and victory. The girl eyed the bucket beside her nervously, staying just outside the ring of stones.

This girl – Celeste – held an infant forest spirit in her vessel. While she wasn’t permitted to physically enter the stone ring, her spirit had no such constraints – making her ideal for this role. The grass around her suddenly whipped into the air, creating a whirlwind of green fluttering leaves that obscured Leandra’s sight.

Not a bad move – one meant to buy Celeste time.

With another flash of green energy, tendrils burst from the ground near Leandra’s feet, coiling toward her and lashing at her shins. She could have avoided the plants – I noticed her brief moment of hesitation – but instead they wrapped around her ankles and wound up her legs, Leandra’s charge coming to an abrupt halt. She was always such a showoff…

“When should I expect—” Fang began.

“It’s not over,” I interrupted.

The other players were gaining on Leandra from behind. Meanwhile, Celeste grinned triumphantly, despite the way her chest heaved and she wobbled on her feet. After a few matches, she was tiring, her stores of nimbus swiftly depleting and leaving little to call upon the aid of her spirit. Yet she at least had the presence of mind to keep herself directly between Leandra and the goal as the grass fluttered to the ground.

The distance was about 15 yards. A difficult shot for, well, anyone.

Leandra just smiled calmly, unperturbed by her situation.

Then she threw the ball straight up in the air. The water clinging to her skin shot up with it, more condensing out of the thick mists and forming a rare patch of clear air. The water enveloped the ball and it hung there, the other players slowing and gaping. Such a thing was rare – it required vast amounts of nimbus and incredible control.

Then the ball of water darted forward, racing over Celeste’s head before slamming into the bucket, more liquid rocketing up into the air.

A heavy silence and then…

A rousing cheer erupted as the onlookers celebrated Leandra’s victory! Even the marshes mirrored their jubilation. Motes of brown and green drifted up out of the grass, swirling together with faint blue specks that hovered in the fog. The spirits in the air and earth were responding to the surge of nimbus.

“So, now then, about our bet…” I began, taunting. Just a little.

“It is but one goal. It is not over yet,” Fang hissed.

“Isn’t it, though?” I demanded.

Leandra suddenly shot a look around the field as though searching for something…

Somehow, she knew just where to look – was able to pick me out amid the shadows. Maybe it was her spirit’s whispered words, the moisture around me quivering in place. Our eyes met and she beamed proudly. A ray of sunshine that seemed to peel away my own gloom. All the family I had left – the only true family anyway. My entire world.

Like it always did, the jealousy and bitterness clawing its way through my chest melted before that gaze. I wanted what she had – what all of the villagers had. Desperately. But I could never be anything but proud of my sister…

I raised a fist in salute to her victory, returning her smile.

Although, like I said before, most things didn’t survive the Five Rivers for long and my happiness always seemed to be at the top of the list.

A faint roar rippled through the trees, barely audible over the noise of the villagers. I almost thought I’d imagined it… until I heard it again – louder that time. That was a sound I definitely recognized and a pit formed in my stomach.

This time, I was pretty sure it wasn’t just hunger.

Why were the kraell heading this way?

Others had noticed too. Already, a few of the villagers were calling out a warning, waving at the players on the field and trying to get their attention. However, most still seemed oblivious as they cheered on Leandra and her team, even as my sister flowed around the field and celebrated with her teammates.

I was already on my feet. “Why are they here?” I grunted.

“Because you lured them here, of course,” Fang drawled back, his eyes reappearing and watching me with a bored expression.

“I didn’t—”

A scaled claw suddenly tapped at my arm, at the healing wounds there. “Don’t pretend. They tasted your blood, no? I smelled it on them earlier. They will not give up the chase. A distraction is not enough.”

Those yellow eyes were suddenly close, peering at me. “That was your plan, no? To distract them long enough to flee, lure them here, and then have the others finish them off for you? It seemed a fitting way to compensate for your condition.”

I swallowed hard. I wish this had been part of some grand plan.

“You didn’t mention that they would keep tracking my blood.”

“They will give up eventually, unless they get a taste,” the savran shot back. “Yet you are still here. Alive. How would they manage that unless you gave them your blood?”

Shit. I thought they’d just caught my scent in the river. Had they managed to get a taste of my blood in the water? You see what I’m talking about? Once is just bad luck, twice coincidence… and the fiftieth time? Well, that was just the universe fucking with me.

Fang eyes reappeared nearby, narrowing as he noticed my reaction. “This was your plan yes?” He pressed again, more forcefully this time.

I never got a chance to answer.

The trees along the side of the clearing trembled and bucked, a wave of water crashing up out of the swamp. It was over ten feet tall – an impossible feat this far from the river. This must be the kraell’s spirits at work. Judging from the size of the wave, they were all fledgling, at least… maybe even immature. The waters soon separated and spread around the glade, fully encircling the field and swiftly walling in the villagers. That water hung there, rushing in place, an impenetrable wall of moisture.

It seemed the kraell were tired of chasing their prey.

The rest of the villagers had definitely noticed now, shouts of alarm rising into the air—and in the middle of the field stood none other than Leandra, frozen in surprise and her eyes wide and wild as they watched the kraell emerge from the wall of water.

And those definitely weren’t babies.

Scaled giants stepped through the waves like they were nothing, water sloughing off thick, plate-like scales and their tails lashing at the air. Five of them, each a dozen-feet long and topped with a fish-faced horror with way too many teeth. Sharp claws dug into the soft soil and muscle rippled. Their gills huffed at the air, the mist spiraling as they picked out the locations of the prey lingering amid the field. Practically a feast of sapian flesh. Their half-blind eyes whirled toward the villagers… and toward Leandra.

“What do you intend to—?” Fang cutoff behind me.

Because I was already running again, except this time it was in the other direction.

My life might be worth nothing – less than the mud and grass underfoot. But it had a purpose. One singular goal. One bright spot amid the darkness.

Leandra. Protecting Leandra.