Chapter 52

Spectacles

The mood in the BloodRock compound isn’t exactly cheerful over the next few days. Tota was popular among…everyone. The youth pitters, the adults, the domestics, even us over in hall three. He used to make everyone laugh with his stupid impersonations of people; The ones he did of BloodRock and me were especially beloved. I remember how much that used to annoy me, now it makes me smile. Isn't it funny how life is like that?

Kalon stops coming to our early morning training. Neither I nor Xael say anything about it but we both practise harder, a lot harder. I don’t know how much it will help in the four or so days before we fight again, it makes me feel a little better though.

I go hard when I’m training with the other slaves too, probably too hard if I’m honest. In two days I manage to send four of them to the tower.

When the masked Guard Haark comes and orders me to leave afternoon training I assume that's why. When he take me to Xael and his sister and that same portable bath I almost wish I were about to get punished for being too rough. While I enjoyed that last party at the BlackMist compound I haven’t lost my fear of the events. One good one does not undo a decade of horrible experiences.

Still, I don’t complain. Not even when Ilexa forces me to model outfits for what feels like hours.

My lack of complaint and faint grin during the whole process has absolutely nothing to do with Xae pre-empting my complaints by informing me Viscarra would be there and asking after my attendance specifically.

It isn’t until I’m dressed in the tightest most annoying outfit I have ever put on that I think to ask where we are going and why. It turns out the last three teams have to attend a special party to celebrate the final matches of the tournament. It will also be there that they ‘randomly’ decide who fights who.

As we head for Prime Arena Two, which strikes me as an odd place for a party. Xael explains that it won’t be random at all. The whole city has been waiting weeks to see Velorn the fire blessed face off against Embella the flame witch. The foreign boy is certain the BlackMists won't risk us beating one of them before that fight can take place. The money they will make on attendance and gambling will simply be too great to leave to chance.

“Guaranteed second place,” I say with a grin “Not bad.”

The wagon feels oddly empty with just Xael and me in it.

“You are not worried about BloodRock losing his bet before we get a chance to face them?” That almost makes me laugh.

“Are you kidding? Velorn won’t last ten heartbeats against those two.”

We get taken through the upper levels and for the first time in my life into one of the large viewing boxes. It is a lot larger than they look from down in the pit itself. The place easily holds fifty or sixty people along with long food tables, and a little podium.

The moment we are in there Xael abandons me again. I don’t like being in these sorts of things alone but I think he thinks he’s doing me a favor.

I make a straight line for the long food tables. There is a domestic who hands me a plate when I get there, and then I can just help myself as much as I want. It's madness, if no one says anything to stop me I intend to do my best to bankrupt house BlackMist via their own hospitality.

Seeing that everyone else is also using the wooden plates they are given I resist the urge to discard the thing as an unneeded extra step. I still proceed to stuff my face with all manner of smoked meats and dried and sugared fruits. I’m going to miss this tomorrow when I’m eating unseasoned rice or gruel back at the compound.

I don’t notice it immediately but there are quite a few guards around in the gravy armor and purple livery of BlackMist. They ring the viewing box, one every few feet standing next to or leaning up against the wall. Once I start looking for them I count at least fifteen.

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‘They just shouldn’t have the three teams in a room together like this and they wouldn’t need so many.’

I don’t think anything is going to happen, and I have no plans to start anything even though they were kind enough to leave me unmuzzled tonight, still with Klash, Embella, Velorn, and especially myself roaming the gathering freely. I would have brought more than a couple of soldiers too.

Xael and the girl teamed up with Velorn aren’t even worth considering, If either of them starts a fight I’ll eat my left foot. I must look ridiculous with the plate held near my face, chewing while I look around suspiciously for the other teams. They don’t take long to spot. Klash unsurprisingly being the first, the enormous grey-skinned cursed is accompanied by his pit partner who must have been stuffed full of Forspoken stone to be as recovered as she is already. The Itti’atti girl still bears scars across her face and arms that will likely never fade.

Velorn is close to the balcony where the BlackMists watch the fights. Any fights they want, not just those a part of the tournament they are hosting. This is their viewing box, and open to their use whenever they want it.

The flame-blessed boy is obviously flirting with a middle-aged BlackMister. I take a second shocked glance realising it’s Viscarra’s mother. The silver bone-wearing woman seems happy for the attention, and whatever he is saying is apparently excessively funny.

I almost choke when I finally lay eyes on Viscarra. I don’t know why I hate to admit to myself that I have been looking for her. The BlackMist girl and I haven’t had a chance to interact at all since The Storm Herald Invitational began. Weirdly she is deep in conversation with Muaritzo; The young dog boy from the rich trading family who runs my little fan club, I haven’t seen him in a while either.

It is quite a shock to see the two of them together but that isn’t why I choke, It's the girl. I honestly feel like every time I see Viscarra she is more stunning than the last time. I think I understand the reason why, but that doesn’t change the impact. A few days back Xael’s sister Ilexa explained the concept of makeup to me. Yet the powders and creams she uses must possess powerful magic indeed to make Vicarra look like this.

Both the boy and teen girl get excited when they spot me in turn, waving me over but I’m already walking towards the pair. In fact, I’m so engrossed in watching the BlackMist girl cast a little spell with a flourish of her hands as I approach that I practically knock some human in Saffron red over. I expect the human to get all indignant or something but he laughs it off, tells me I won him a fortune last match, and just goes back to whatever he was doing.

Rich people are weird, I would have knocked his teeth out if the roles were reversed so maybe I should just be grateful. When I finally get over to the pair Viscarra is finishing up her little display of magic.

“That's so weird?!” Says the little dog boy up at her.

“It is” She agrees “ but you take the good with the bad, and it means I can do things with magic that neither of my parents can do.”

“Like those spectacle things?”

“Like these spectacle things,” She agrees.

I don’t know what ‘spectacle things’ are but it takes me almost no time to figure it out. When Viscarra looks up from the boy to me it becomes abundantly clear, there are a pair of swirling black discs about the size of a large coin each hovering against each of her eyes.

They look like tiny versions of the disc that spins around BlackMist tower, giving her a slightly terrifying visage. Considering she is a sorceress who wears metal bones over or weaved into her clothes, so it isn’t like she needed help being scary.

Except she looks at me. Right at me her face splits into a smile that I can’t help but match with a goofy one of my own.

‘Maybe not that scary.’

“I didn’t know you two knew each other, “ I say in a display of my usual cutting wit.

“Well, good evening to you too,” replies Viscarra with a little snort.

“Uhh yeah”

I look to Mauritzo as though the little dog boy can help me somehow. He explains that his father and Viscarra’s uncle have been in business together for a long time. For my part, I’m running an internal check of all the nasty things I’ve said to Mauri or while around him. Is there something that might make me look bad to the BlackMist girl? No…no?

‘Oh, who fucking cares’ I chide myself. She knows who and what I am, she was in this very viewing box when I killed Locke. If Viscarra suddenly does not like me, I’ll just have to deal with it.

“Well, what do you think?” She asks, gesturing to the horrifying discs of darkness sitting atop her eyes.

“You look like you are about to eat my soul,” I say back honestly.