The sun had yet to peak over the walls of the coliseum as Pavel plopped down on a bench inside. Aside from the officials who always came early, checking each of the sandy arenas to ensure they were ready for the day, barely a soul filled the inside of the coliseum, causing a peaceful silence to settle upon its walls.

Placing his sword and flail on the bench, Pavel stood up, reached above his head, and bent down to touch his toes. He let out a loud grunt as his muscles tensed up, his entire body protesting. He fell back onto the bench and dug his knuckles into his legs, wincing as he massaged them.

Every inch of his body ached with a soreness that he’d felt only twice before; the first, when he’d completed a rather grueling training routine thought up by one of his more unhinged sergeants, and the second when he had taken a tumble down a flight of stairs, after a botched breach into a house. Both times Pavel had recovered quickly from the ordeals, but after his session with Harshnag, he wasn’t so sure if that would be the case this time.

Originally, Pavel had wanted nothing to do with the idea; it had taken the better part of yesterday for him to overcome his anxiety around Harshnag, who had slept over for the night. The giant’s awesome stature conjured up harsh memories of what had occurred to their caravan, just some time ago. Harshnag however, ignorant of the event, had continually pressed Pavel for a chance to “spar” together, as he seemed the most suited for the task out of everyone else. After the umpteenth request, Pavel had given in, anxiety replaced with frustration, just to get the giant to shut up.

He winced and rubbed his chest; that listed among some of the stupider things Pavel had done in his life.

He wasn’t sure if either of them had truly benefitted from the sparring; though Pavel had been able to keep up more than he expected, he accomplished very little. His dulled flail and sword consistently bounced off Harshnag’s body, regardless of where he struck, rendering the giant no harm. In contrast, Pavel had lost track of the number times he was flung from the arena from a single blow of Harshnag’s dulled axe; each time he had almost tumbled into another ring, much to everyone – save Cruck’aa’s – amusement.

Harshnag, deaf to Pavel’s desire to quit after the second round, had demanded they go again, telling him that he’d do better the next round – and then the round after that, and then the round after that, and then the round after that – until Pavel couldn’t stand up anymore. His body refused to cooperate, his muscles rebelling against him, and no amount of healing magic from Serena could fix that, even if she hadn’t been exhausted from the countless other times she was forced to fix Pavel that day. Evidently, she had mended his ribs several times, though Pavel thought that to be an exaggeration.

Still, some amount of good had come from their bouts; Harshnag himself was swarmed each time he’d flung Pavel away, mobs of other contestants all wanting a shot at the giant in the ring, all claiming to improve in the areas Pavel had lacked. Unfortunately, Harshnag had declined all, stating that he’d only spar with Pavel that day as he promised he would, but that he’d come back later to honor everyone’s request.

Pavel had become popular as well; many clustered around his beaten and bruised body as Serena healed him, all clamoring to have a go with him in the arena. Evidently, being able to last more than a minute with a giant in close combat had made him a quite desirable sparring partner. In his delirious, exhausted state, Pavel had agreed to come back and spar with virtually everyone who’d asked, if they returned the following day. By the time they had left later in the afternoon, Harshnag holding Pavel as a mother held her baby, Serena had counted at least seventeen promises Pavel had made. Cruck’aa had, of course, called Pavel a plethora of names for making as many promises as he did, but he paid the Aarakocra no mind. His opinion on the situation hardly mattered.

With a grunt, Pavel forced himself back up and repeated the stretch; this time, his body cooperated a bit more.

As he straightened up and pulled his arms backwards, stretching his back, Pavel’s thoughts began to drift. None of the people who’d wanted to spar with him were present yet, and besides his typical stretches, there wasn’t anything for him to do.

Pavel grabbed an elbow with one hand and pulled it across his chest, twisting his torso sideways as he did. His eyes flicked to the bench behind him.

He squinted and twisted back around, as the incident with Serena’s choker suddenly sprang back into his mind. Unable to push those thoughts away, he let them tumble about inside his head.

Try as he might, Pavel remained unable to wrap his head around what had happened; despite being shaken at what had occurred, Serena had chalked the incident up to a misfired spell, dismissing it entirely. Pavel didn’t have a clue as to how that would have worked, but according to Serena, it was a rather easy mistake to make, one that she had made multiple times. She’d dismissed the issue again, when Pavel had later brought up the idea that it could have been intentional. She stated that, as far as she could remember, Serena hadn’t made any enemies lately, thus she couldn’t see why someone would target her in particular.

“I can.” Pavel mumbled, before letting out a sigh.

Perhaps he was overthinking it. After all, Serena knew more about magic than he ever would. If she believed it to be a misfired spell, then who was he to disagree? Yet, despite that, the incident still hung in the back of Pavel’s mind. He’d wanted to bring it up again, both to her, Jo, and Cruck’aa, but Serena’s casual attitude towards the event made Pavel fear that he wouldn’t be taken seriously. He wasn’t concerned with what Jo and Cruck’aa might think of him had he been wrong, but –

“Good morning!”

Pavel started, torn from his thoughts.

An odd-looking, dark skinned elf walked around the sand arena towards Pavel, waving at him; the elf’s black leather armor, accented with thick gold strips, somehow matched with the purple cloak that hung loosely from his back. The elf’s tunic collar, colored the same black as his armor with the inside a rich purple, covered most of his neck, while a wide-brimmed, purple hat sat tipped back, slightly exposing the elf’s bald head. A thick eyepatch covered his right eye.

Pavel waved back as the elf approached slowly, a swagger in his step that Pavel couldn’t look away from. He couldn’t help but imagine the elf as a pirate straight out of a children’s fairytale, yet something about the way he walked suggested that he was anything but.

“Well, you’re here rather early.” The elf said, his voice smooth and rich, almost noble sounding; Pavel had half a mind to believe he was about to be flirted with. “I never see you around this time.”

“Ah,” Pavel replied slowly, choosing his words carefully; why had the elf noticed such a thing? “well, thought I’d get some stretching in before things get hectic.”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

“Hectic?” The elf asked.

“Yeah…I got a lot of requests to spar yesterday, and I figured the sooner I got here, the sooner I could get them all out of the way. That, and I don’t know if Harshnag will be back or not.”

“I see. Well,” the elf said, drawing the word out long enough to send a small shiver down Pavel’s spine. “I was fortune enough to witness that little brawl you had with him, and I must say, the performance you put on was simply spectacular. You held your own against him for quite a bit longer than I expected you to.”

“Ah.” Pavel grimaced. “Well…I’ve had some experience…I guess.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard. Regardless, your performance yesterday…spoke to me, I should say, and I felt as though you should know that I’ve placed quite the sum on you pulling ahead and winning this little tournament.” The elf grinned warmly. “Thought you’d ought to know. Give you a bit of motivation to try harder.”

Pavel smiled in confusion and shook his head.

“Uhm, I’m flattered, I guess. But I think you’d find a better bet with someone else. I’m decent, but not that good.”

“Well, I disagree.”

“And again, I’m flattered you think so. But I think you’d have better luck betting on any of my friends rather than me – including Harshnag, for that matter. I think they’d all do a bit better than I would.” Pavel frowned. “Well, you could bet on any of them except Serena, she didn’t sign up.”

“Is she the one you sparred with some days ago? I remember seeing you two in the sand.” the elf gestured at the arena next to him. “Quite the fight, though not as entertaining as you and the giant. Girl knows how to…heat things up though.”

Pavel laughed. “Yeah! That’s one way to put it. I…”

His words trailed off as a thought broke to the surface of his mind; he frowned, wanting to pursue it, yet unsure if the person in front of him was someone he could talk openly with.

Before Pavel could say anything, however, the elf cocked his head at him.

“Something wrong?” He asked, his voice honied, sending another shiver down Pavel’s spine.

“Ah…no, it’s –”

“What, scared to talk to me?” The cocked his head the other way, his uncovered eye gleaming.

“No, but…” Pavel paused, then crossed his arms. It couldn’t hurt to ask. “You were here that day when it was just me and Serena in the arena, right? When she was throwing fire at me?”

“That I was.” The elf said, mimicking Pavel as he crossed his own arms.

“Did you see anything odd happen that day?”

“Oddness tends to follow me wherever I go, much of which I ignore.”

“Ah…right.” Pavel nodded, his face growing hot. “Uhm…it’s just…I think my friend was attacked, and I was wondering if…potentially, you saw something about that.”

The elf raised a single thin brow; he stepped closer to Pavel and lowered his voice, sending yet another shiver through him.

“Attacked?” The elf rubbed his smooth chin. “That’s rather serious, especially if it happened in broad daylight. What did happen if I may ask.”

“Uhm…well, we had just gotten done with sparring and were sitting down on the bench. We were…just talking, nothing out of the ordinary, when Serena started choking. She –”

“Was she eating something?” The elf asked, only half serious.

“No, no, we didn’t have anything with us.” Pavel replied. “It was her choker. It started to…I’m don’t know, strangle her? I guess?”

“Her choker started to strangle her?”

“Yes. That and…burning too. The moon on the front warmed up and I swear it was glowing for a moment, but the points behind it weren’t. I tried to tug it off but –”

The elf’s hand shot up, cutting Pavel.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “what exactly is on her choker?”

“Uhm, why?”

“Call it curiosity. That, and the more details I know, the better of an assumption I can make.”

“Oh. Well…” Pavel thought for a moment. “It’s a moon pendant in front of a wheel of arrows, I think. I…can’t remember what it’s supposed to represent. Why, have you seen it before?”

The elf’s mouth opened slightly; his eyes widened and flicked about Pavel’s face, as though it held the answer to a question he wasn’t privy too. Before Pavel could ask, however, the elf squeezed his eyes shut, and licked his lips.

“No.” he said, rather forcefully, his eyes opening. “I have never seen it before. I’m more appalled that someone would wear something as gaudy as the moon on their neck.”

Pavel chuckled. “Well, to each their own. With what you got going on though,” he gestured to the elf’s outfit. “I don’t think you should be throwing any stones.”

The elf narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, Pavel swore anger flashed through them. The second his heart jumped, however, the elf relaxed and chuckled.

“Perhaps you’re right there. Not much I can say.” He cleared his throat. “Well, going back to your original question, no, I didn’t see anything odd happening that day. This is all new to me. With all the fighting going on here though, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a simple miscast of a spell.”

“Yeah.” Pavel mumbled. “Serena said the same thing.”

“And I see no reason why either of us should doubt her, especially considering that she seems more of the magic expert than we.” The elf glanced up and squinted as the sun began to peak over the walls of the coliseum. “Well, unfortunately, I don’t have much else to say on the matter, and as much as I enjoy our conversation, I have spent a little too much time conversing with you. I had an errand to run and didn’t expect to be here for this long.” He looked back at Pavel and smiled. “Remember, I have high hopes for you. I do hope all that sparring you do today will serve you well.”

Before Pavel could say anything else, the elf turned on his heel and swaggered back the way he came, waving a hand at Pavel with his back turned.

“Ah, o-okay!” Pavel waved back, despite the elf being unable to see him. “Thanks! Have a…good day.”

Pavel watched as the elf walked around the various sand arenas within the coliseum, his pace quick. After a moment, he stepped through the arches cut into the walls of the coliseum and disappeared from sight.

He scratched his head at the elf’s sudden departure; it was rather rude, but if the elf had an errand to run, there wasn’t much Pavel could say.

He supposed what the elf had said made sense. Magic was an elusive topic for him, and if Serena, someone who knew magic well, wasn’t concerned at all about what had occurred, then perhaps he shouldn’t be either. Perhaps it really was an accident and nothing more. Besides, Serena hadn’t been hurt by it, then or later, so was there really any harm inflicted?

Pavel frowned. Of course there was; Serena could have gotten killed had she not pried off the choker in time. It may seem like an accident to her and the elf, but to Pavel, it still appeared as something more.

But if it was an attack, then who had attacked her? Was it the Cult? Did they have such a presence in the city that they could track them down and brazenly attack one of them in broad daylight? Then, of course, if it was an attack, why had Serena been chosen? If it truly was a spell that heated metal, why not place it on himself? After all, it would have taken a massive effort to rip all his armor off in time before he was cooked, instead of simply undoing the clasps on Serena’s choker. So why…

Pavel plopped himself back down on the bench as his head began to pound, his thoughts flying about unchecked.

Perhaps he was overthinking it. Serena was safe now, having suffered no ill effects from whatever had happened. If that was the case, then he should simply let the event go. Serena already had, after all. Not to mention that Pavel hadn’t thought about the issue until he’d come back to the coliseum.

“Gods.” He sighed, leaning back on the bench. “Why is everything so complicated here?”

…

Jarlaxle halted and leaned against one of the arches on the outside of the coliseum, staring out at the still sleepy city. Barely a soul occupied the square in front of the coliseum, and with no one else arriving this early, he stood alone.

Something that he was grateful for.

A single thought dominated his mind, shoving away all other matters and preoccupations, tearing down the walls of what he believed and replacing them with nothing but doubts.

It made no sense. It couldn’t make sense. If it did make sense, then it was utterly improbable. There wasn’t a single reason as to why it would ever occur, yet, according to that idiot, the truth had stood directly in from of Jarlaxle, and he’d missed it by a hair.

He let out a yell and ripped his hat off; Jarlaxle vigorously rubbed the top of his bald head, as though he could pull the thoughts out of his mind.

No, it was simply a misunderstanding. Of course it was. The image of the choker he held in his mind had to be different than the one that girl was wearing. Besides, if it was true, then everything Jarlaxle had understood would be wrong – and his information was never wrong.

“After all,” he growled to himself. “you’d be a fool to let the child out of your sight, Vorn Lash.”