“I can’t believe it, you really are insane!” Was Claudia’s reaction upon seeing me walk up to the dais, pushing aside some unlucky fool that had been trying to hold a conversation with her as she marched over to me. “I thought it was just a joke that your name suddenly appeared on the lists yesterday!”

“What can I say?” I responded with a blitheness I really wasn’t sure I was feeling as my gaze swept through the people who were to be my competitors. “I thought I might take advantage of my recent uptick in fortune, make a name for myself!” The bystanders, who had already been quietly sneering at my presence, muttered a few choice curse words my way.

Truly, the jealousy was a palpable thing… but really, despite how I would’ve despised those glares being sent my way before, I was somewhat relieved. Because I knew most of the people here by name, if not by reputation.

How? Because they were all my--- or should I say Claudia’s--- peers.

Contrary to what I first believed when my father saddled me with this mess, this Tournament wasn’t an elaborate attempt to get me killed by the blade of a soldier who’d battled the armies of the Great Khagan. No, for everyone here were merely scions of noble houses, the second and third children and their like.

The actual warriors, the Knights, Soldiers who had actually seen battle, first sons and heirs along with their noble fathers, would be taking part in the joust and the war games right after them. Much more prestigious than playing with the kids, which also left them with an opportunity to prove themselves as better than their peers, if they be brave enough to enter.

Which Claudia certainly was, along with a heaping of talent. Enough talent to have more than a few reservations about me joining this competition, not to mention taunting my fellow competitors who already disliked me.

“What were you thinking?” She hissed, grasping my arm and pulling me aside, something I had little choice but to allow. “You could have pulled this any other time, but you choose to do it when you haven’t given yourself any time to even prepare!” Really, she was concerned for me that much? “You’ll get yourself killed!”

No time to prepare indeed, the only thing I could have done after that conversation was to simply head to the nearest Church I could, and just pray. Take stock of all of the Miracles I could perform while making sure my Faith would not be found wanting when the day came.

That had been my sole preparation for this whole affair. Aside from that, the only thing I had to my name was a basic armor and sword that had been provided to me by Uncle Mathas, my father’s brother and attendant. A reliable gambeson, but nothing special… especially when compared to the metal that Claudia and the more well-off participants wore.

She had every right to feel worried, given that I didn’t wear either of them well.

But still, I carried myself with confidence, and maybe it was unearned… but I either went into this with no fears at all, or got swept away before I could accomplish half of what I wished to do in this world.

So I freed myself from “It’s something I have to do, Claudia.”

“You idiot--!” She made to explode at me again, barely stopping herself as she caught her voice rising and gathering the attention of what few people that weren’t already eavesdropping on our conversation… visibly forcing herself to be calmer, she hissed again. “You’re supposed to be my Retainer you know, what if I were to forbid you?”

“I don’t think it would convince anyone, or change anything.” I shrugged, throwing her a smile. “But don’t worry, alright? You know I’m better than I look.” In armor that wasn’t fitted to me, and carrying a sword I was only a passing talent at, I was aware that I was a sorry sight, but that was more than fine since it got everyone to underestimate me more than they were already doing.

It played into their assumptions about me as an upjumped commoner who needed to know his place. Such a thing would have normally made my blood boil at the injustice of it all, but I was focused on a different injustice this time… one so grave that it threatened to take away my only chance at a bright future, making everything I had felt about my situation before feeling all too petty in comparison.

However, progressing talent still wasn’t enough to moliffy Claudia, who looked ready to interject yet again… but it wasn’t me that interrupted her this time, but a portly man who banged a staff on the wooden floor of the dais, his booming voice announcing the competitors to take their places so that the Melee could properly start.

So there was a benefit in coming in being so fashionably late! I’d have to remember that.

I swiftly turned to Claudia. “We’ll talk after my victory.” I said, shooting her a wink as I seized the opportunity to extract myself before she changed her mind. “We haven’t been able to have a proper conversation for a month now, I want that to change.” No doubt things had been hectic, and she had been worried about me, despite how much she might deny it. We’d return to our proper relationship soon enough, I was sure of it.

Just as soon as I earned my spot in this expedition.

Claudia, bless her heart, didn’t hear beyond the first sentence.

“Your victory?” She repeated incredulously, “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

But I was already gone before she could demand her answers, slipping to the front of the line that followed our portly guide (much to the grumblings of the person I’d cut in front of) and thus gaining the privilege of claiming the platform closest to the dais. It was a strategic decision, one that would allow me to have control over just how I would accomplish what came next.

The arena that the melee would be fought in was not a traditional fighting pit that’d be found anywhere else in the world. But instead resembled a tub, a giant one filled to the brim with water which flowed to and fro, no doubt due to mechanisms that were as elaborate as they were monstrously expansive. The only feature of this artificial lake aside from these features were the small island that had been placed in the middle, a hill of sand with a single oak tree upon it, which itself had the banner of Vilon standing atop it.

It was a thoroughly Vilonese invention, and I couldn’t help but feel massively relieved for it. For it played to my strengths like nothing else would.

What didn’t help my current position however, was that my place on the platform gave me a clear view of the stands in the distance… With it surrounding the whole of the Arena and filled to the brim with spectators, who were murmuring among each other as they awaited the . How could an event which was merely a sideshow to the real event

Well, it might have something to do with the place of honor. Which had the Heads of all of Vilon’s noble houses, alongside the Grand Patrizio of the Serenity, the Master of Vilon and all of its domains… who was currently entertaining a rather important guest.

Namely, my father, who was currently staring straight at me.

Right, as if that was going to make me any less nervous about this.

I was trying not to form a too damning opinion of the man, but he was doing his best to change that it seemed!

With a deep breath and a sigh, I tamped down on the anxiety his gaze inspired and turned away. Instead of thinking about just how I was going to pull this thing off, I was given plenty of time as all of my fellow competitors were led to their own platforms… while off-handedly noting that Claudia had been placed on one nearly right across from mine.

I was going to have to be careful about that.

We knew of each other’s methods from countless hours spent training together… An early clash was a coin toss I was not eager to take a chance on.

Eventually however, the time for thinking and strategizing came to an end, and all that was left to see was the Master of Ceremonies giving out a lecture of the rules that all of the competitors had been given a lecture on, being ran again for the benefit of the audience…

They were pretty simple all told. Last person standing would win, no lethal moves were to be permitted though accidents could be allowed. If one was incapacitated for more than ten seconds or threw down their arms, they would be counted as eliminated… the usual rules for a melee, even if they were being a bit coy about that bit with the ‘lethal moves’, because there were plenty of ways to accidentally murder someone when bare steel was permitted and actively encouraged, wasn’t there?

Regardless…

With a simple pull of a lever, our platforms dropped to deposit us into the waters below, the battle began in earnest as the crowd brayed for blood.

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Marvels of the World

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

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For a moment, all that the spectators see is about two dozen people sink into the waters of the arena with a big splash and disappear into the waters below… The seconds pass by, feeling like minutes as the excited roaring of the crowd calms down into excited murmurings, the anticipation in the air palpable as everyone stares into the water for any sign of movement before things truly get going.

They do not have to wait long.

Suddenly, a great spout of water shoots into the sky, great enough that the Great Lords of Vilon only have to look ahead to see the top of it. In an artificial pool such as this one, the spout is high enough that one might see the bottom if they strained their eyes, though none do, considering how everyone’s attention is on that eye-catching landmark, and the bodies which it carries to the sky.

Of the two dozen competitors taking part in this exhibition match between the young scions of Vilon’s most noble houses (and one very hopeful Merchant House), six were immediately eliminated. The unluckiest being thrown out of bounds by the gigantic water spout, and the others being set upon by sharks circling the waters after the artificial tide wreaked havoc on their ability to orient themselves with their surroundings.

Said sharks being their fellow competitors of course, as it was revealed by a prayer from the Master of Ceremonies, which turned the previously clouded waters as clear as the waters of all Thalassea in a display of dramatic showmanship that was oh-so-common in Stivale and its Grand Cities, which prided themselves on their culture.

The great Miracle of Saint Evangelista of Vilon was being put to extensive use by the competitors, with all of the remaining competitors speeding through the water much alike the aforementioned predator of the ocean. Moving with unimaginable speed, before setting upon their opponent with savagery, already the clear waters were marred with flecks of red, which had the audience’s cheers return, and promptly reach a fevered pitch as the competitors set upon each other with fury.

Marcus Paulus was one of those competitors.

He’d more than enough sense to avoid heading toward the small island in the center like those which had been eliminated had thought of doing. Instead deciding to use that crucial first prayer that he, and every other competitor, was trying to make count.

His voice, along with the voice of several others was what had evidently contributed to the great waterspout that had kicked the whole affair off. Evidently, several others had had the same idea as Marcus, which had turned what had been a shot in the dark that would have been lucky to clip anybody into something that had eliminated a quarter of the competition already.

Having been a part of that however, his weapons were still unbloodied.

He had avoided direct confrontation after all, something that served him very little considering his lack of experience. Instead, he’d used his considerable speed on removing himself from the thickest of combat and was heading toward a position that would give him the best overview on the battlefield in front of him.

He would have loved having the option to simply sit out this battle, but that was not an option for him. For his self-given goal of winning the whole tourney would have been competing with his father’s demand that he ‘make himself be seen.’

Instead, as he stepped aboard the artificial island at the center of it all, his goal was to somehow reconcile the two approaches without compromising on either… because that’s the path he’d set himself on, and he refused to compromise on what he wholeheartedly believed to be the turning point in his life that would influence every event which came after it.

Three more people had been eliminated by the time he’d made it ashore, two of them flatly floating in the water as they slowly painted the waters around them red, and another who was screaming for help as they were pinned to the wall of the arena by their hand with a sword that had gone all the way to the hilt.

Staying in the waters just invited the same pain for someone as inexperienced in sea-duels as Marcus, or even worse considering how much he was hated by the very same people who was taking part in this duel… But of course, that was not the field that his strength lay in, was it?

His domain was the very waters that they swam in!

He quickly unsheathed his sword and stabbed it into the sands, tapping the pommel and tracing the pattern of a cross before quickly withdrawing his hand and casting his gaze over the field… his mouth already moving to form the prayers that were inaudible over the roaring of the crowd as Spiritual Energy gathered about his form.

In the stands, Niketas Paulus paused in the middle of his conversation with the Grand Patrizio, pursing his lips and leaning forward as he stroked his beard with great interest.

All too focused on their close quarters combat, none of the competitors in the water wizened up to what was about to happen until it was too late. As currents began to grow stronger and stronger on the opposite sides of the arena to the east and west.

And suddenly, a group of five combatants who had been circling each other with deadly intent were swooped up within a deadly vortex. Formed from those two tides clashing against each other, something they paid no attention to, for they were too focused on combat to feel the waves moving them to and fro, even before the vortex formed.

And wasn’t that an ingenious move in on itself, one that had the crowd going wild, and sent interested murmurs ripping through the Lords’ stand. They had seen the vortex be formed after all, and the effort that had gone into it.

For yes, even though the weakest among them could simply will one into being with a prayer, and the strongest of them could be the bane of an entire fleet with a maelstrom. To create a vortex manually was something they would have never considered. It was the product of the mind of a boy who’d never had the opportunity to travel the seas and learn at the sites of monuments that would allow him those powers.

The sign of great talent in the Thalassean Traditions…

You see, the Elysian Faithkeepers, aside from adhering to the Holy Scriptures which formed the basis of our faith in our One God, could also rely on the existence of certain ‘Sanctioned Schools of Miracles’. Schools which acted as supplementary material, categorizing the Monuments all around Elysium and the Miracles that they held. The foremost of these were the Pontifical Records, but unignorable are the Thalassean Traditions.

For that school boasted Miracles that were wrought by the hand of Sea Saints who had roamed that titular sea since the Awakening of the One God. Not the least of these Saints being Evangelista of Vilon. As such, this School held its domain within the sea and its storms, a very broad school of Miracles.

It was the pride of the Vilonese that they were the masters of the sea, and as such, they prided themselves on their grasp of the Thalassean Traditions, and the Saints of their city who contributed so greatly to that school.

And now, the mere son of a merchant had displayed a certain affinity to the School for all to see, an affinity that had allowed him to do something so few could accomplish at his age… Though it was certainly not skill, one could comfortably call it natural talent that could be developed into something extraordinary indeed.

“Patrizio Speranza.” Niketas Paulus said, as the Master of Ceremonies declared the elimination of those who had been incapacitated by the whirlpool. “I must thank you for your stellar

“I cannot take the credit, yet I feel proud all the same.“ Spoke the man sitting next to him, a man who looked the spitting image of what one thought when they imagined a soldier. Tall, broad shouldered, with a barrel chest and the scars of battle which marred his bearded face. “My children were far more instrumental than anything I did.”

“Then you deserve credit all the same.” And so the flattery and compliments went all across the higher stands, with some even forgetting that their children were the ones that young Marcus was thrashing as they congratulated his father and the guardian who had been taking care of him for so long.

Even as Marcus eliminated yet another batch of contestants by thickening the water around the island into sludge, who were finally beginning to wisen up to what he was doing.

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Marvels of the World

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There was a manic smile on my face that simply wouldn’t go down as I listened to the curses being hurled at me by people that had been caught in my traps.

I just couldn’t help it!

The sheer exhilaration I felt at having managed a coup like this out of nowhere… of managing to succeed beyond my wildest expectations! It was simply too much to bear alongside the catharsis of finally proving the point that I had been trying to make to myself for so many years. That I was talented, that I could surpass any limitation so long as I was given the opportunity to do so!

The noble children who had derided me so… I couldn’t even recognize their faces as they hurled their abuses at me for besting them. Thanks to this victory, they had just become a footnote in the history of my life.

I muttered a prayer of gratitude to the One God for giving me the strength to follow His tenets before channeling that faith into boiling the water around a fool who had been gathering momentum to leap over the sludge I had created out of the water around the island. The smile on my face widening as he was sent careening into said sludge, eliminated.

“Marcus.”

My smile, chose then to slip off as a familiar voice rang in my ears. I whirled around to come face to face with a figure I really didn’t want to see.

Claudia, dear friend and noble, one and the same with the people I had been hoping to overcome today… Her expression was a complicated one as she looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time, but I couldn’t really focus on deciphering that, too busy dealing with the sudden roar of frustration that was consuming my body.

Damn it!

I’d been hoping she had been eliminated before, but I’d been dreading to confirm it.

“...I thought you’d be more interested in a duel at the end, when everyone else was eliminated.” By my count, five others still remained, unless---

“Seems you still need to work on your observational skills, Marcus.” Claudia spoke evenly, even as she raised the thin sword that she wielded and leveled it at my chest, set to skewer me with a single step forward. “There is only us left.” Her words and actions confirmed that she had seen to that personally, signaling just how doomed I was.

It seems I wasn’t the only one who’d improved so much in the space of a month.

This regrettably meant that I’d failed in my own goal.

Damn it all.

“Ah, frustrating, really frustrating.” I muttered helplessly, “You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood.” I told her as I withdrew my sword from the dirt, and leveled it right back at her… determined to try even if I was bound to fail. “Otherwise I’d be a whole lot more angry about this.”

There was a fire in me now, impossible to extinguish.

She gave me a shaky smile, even as she raised her sword in a duelist’s salute, which I returned with a bitter smile of my own.

We really needed to reconnect.

But before that, let’s put on a show.