“Aw, the wee queen is blushing,” Grimli grinned. “I wonder who it could possibly be from –”

“Shut it, Grimli,” Momo said dryly, but it didn’t wipe the smile from her face.

The letter had arrived soon after Devola’s little speech. Momo had taken to the rooftop of the school for a breather and a good look at the massive crowd, only for a little pigeon to swoop down with a letter. The envelope was inked with Jarvirium’s classic insignia.

Dear Momo,

I hope your travels are treating you well. :) Small change in plans on the campaign trail – next stop after Bruda will be a little place called Snowdrop Village. I’ve adjusted your Kalendale date appropriately. Snowdrop won’t be on the map I gave you, but I’ve attached a new set of directions to this letter.

Cheers, and good luck,

Sumire

Momo sighed. The smiley face. So cute.

“That letter’s a bit… mechanical, ain’t it?” Grimli said, eavesdropping over her shoulder. “I’d expect more amore from a lover, would you not? Not to pry or anything.”

Momo blushed profusely and gave him a look. “And yet you're prying.”

“Oh, sorry, m’queen,” he apologized. “Old habits die hard. I’m used to snooping on all my brothers’ love letters. I was always the one to check them for spelling errors, grammar, the like. A big business that was. Was how I first afforded my first bike.”

“Well I think the letter’s just fine,” Momo said stubbornly. “Look at the smiley face.”

“That is a nice touch, aye, I’ll give her that.”

Momo read it over a few more times, her smile nearly splitting her face. She and Grimli poured over the directions afterwards, charting a course from Bruda to Snowdrop, which was considerably out of the way, almost a day’s trip backwards towards Mole City.

I’m sure Sumire has her reasons, Momo thought. She hasn’t led me wrong yet.

Momo gazed down at the stage in the center of town, at the hundreds of people gathered rabidly around it.

Ok, she grimaced. Maybe she’s led me wrong once.

—

Momo thought it’d be best to size up the competition. As it turned out, there was some good news and some bad news in that department. The good news was that the entire town – bar those that got away with their get-out-of-jail-free coupons – was part of the contest. That meant anyone from the spunkiest two year old to the most decrepit elderly lizard was invited to compete.

By comparison, Momo, with her new aptitude for twirls and kicks and landing on her feet, had a solid chance. The bad news, of course, was that Bruda was home to a premiere dance institution, run by the most tyrannical dance teacher this side of the universe. Momo had the pleasure of taking two lessons with Devola: one nearly killed her, and the second made her wish the first one had.

Which was all to say: anyone who could survive that kind of training with Ms. Wraith had to be good. And if not good, at least insane. Compared to someone with that level of pure dedication, Momo’s Dexterity-based advantage felt mediocre at best.

“This’ll be my second season competing in the challenge,” said one seventy-two year old goblin in the school hallway, looking as proud as a father on his daughter’s wedding day. “I came in number one hundred and eighty three last time, now I’m aiming for one hundred and fifty three.”

“Good for you,” Momo murmured. “I’m sure you’ll make it.”

“I don’t need your silly luck, princess,” he guffawed. “I've been training my whole damn life for this sport. I was once a Gladiator, you know. The type that fights with lions. You gotta have some damn good dance moves to outmaneuver those beasts.”

“It’s not princess. It’s queen, actually –”

“I’m not sure my mate here knows exactly what dance means at all,” Grimli suggested in a barely-concealed whisper. “It doesn't mean fighting moves. It’s a delicate, precise artform.”

The goblin man’s face screwed up in a terrible expression, not that goblin peoples’ faces were terribly great to look at in general. “What would you know? I bet those tiny legs and little feet of yours can barely catch a rhythm.”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

It would be important to note here that the goblin was not much bigger than Grimli, maybe by a dime or a quarter at the most. Age and back problems had leveled the man down into a stupor, and Grimli’s rage knocked him up a few inches, standing on his tiptoes.

Still, Grimli got hot in the face at the accusation, as was his favorite hobby to do, and pointed a stubby finger at the elderly goblin. “I’ll have you know I once outdanced the Queen of Dwarves herself with these little feet, not that it’s any of your business.”

“That so? Why don’t we try and see whose feet move faster then, yours and mines –”

Momo’s incoming-highly-embarrassing-event senses started tingling, so she took Grimli’s hand before another word came out of his mouth.

—

“You should have let me at him,” Grimli grumbled, arms crossed on the floor of one of the New School’s several studios. Momo picked the one on the highest floor, so far unoccupied by any other students or competitors. “I need the practice, anyway, if I’ve got any hope of beating these tools at the dance school.”

“You?” Momo said. “You’ll do just fine. Me, on the other hand...”

“Nah, lass. I know you well, I’ve seen you in action. What’s that class of yours, Nether Doba-die? The whole thing is designed to mess with other people. Illusion and mental manipulation and all that. You’ll do just fine.”

“But the competition is about dancing,” Momo squinted. “Aren’t spells banned?”

Grimli laughed. “Banned? Did you even read the rules, lass?”

He removed a pamphlet from his pocket and handed it to Momo. It was labeled Competition Rules.

“Where’d you get this?” Momo muttered, annoyed that she hadn’t found it first.

“The Wraith woman gave me it,” he grumbled. “Of course she had to throw in some jab first about how she hoped my mind was more literate than my feet,” his eyebrows slanted like a pissed off cartoon character. “Like that makes any sense at all.”

Momo laughed under her breath, and Grimli glared at her.

She cleared her throat, and started reading the paper.

RULES OF DEADLY DANCE RECITAL

As all true fans of the New School of Dance will know, our school is unlike other schools in one crucial way – our encouragement of magical practice. We do not solely accept students with conventional classes such as Dancer or Bard, but students who come from all paths, may that be Cleric or Farmer or Necromancer.

In keeping with this practice, our recitals, unlike many other competitive recitals across the nation, do not forbid the use of magic during our competition. In fact, we welcome it. Using magic to defeat your opponent is considered an acceptable form of victory.

There are only a few limitations.

1. While casting magic, you must be performing a dance move or trick. The judges will have to agree that your moves constitute dance moves. Such examples of non-dance moves include: shoulder shimmies, hip rotations, and "tapping your foot to the music."

2. Killing the competition is acceptable, of course, but it is not required. You must simply incapacitate your opponent completely so they can no longer perform dance moves.

3. Have fun!

“Oh,” Momo said, her eyes widening. “I have this in the bag.”

—

To keep things fair, the Recital was separated by rank. Novices fought novices, Intermediates fought Intermediates, and so on and so forth. This included one exception – the winner of each league was promoted to the next, so on the rare occasion that a Novice might outdo an Expert, they were given the opportunity to prove it.

These were all insignificant details to Momo, until they weren’t.

“I will win the Expert league,” Trent said decisively. Momo heard him say it from the room over, talking to a few buddies by the yoga area. Momo was seated out of view behind a pillar, re-reading Sumire’s letter for the hundredth time. “Devola will eat me alive if I don’t.”

That gave Momo pause. There’s no way I’m fighting that kid. Especially not to the hypothetical-death.

“You’re crazy. She won’t care, man. You’re her favorite student,” one of his friends added with slight bitterness. “She’ll be happy enough if you win Intermediates.”

“No, she won’t,” Trent said, shrugging his head. “She expects excellence from me.”

“Winning intermediates is excellence,” his friend countered. “You’re just delusional.”

The other kids laughed. Momo didn’t have a good view of Trent from behind the pillar – and she didn’t want to reveal herself in case she might embarrass him – but from the sound of it, Trent wasn’t budging on his stance. The boy had gone uncharacteristically silent.

“I’m not delusional,” he said. “I’ve got a leg up on the competition.”

Momo heard a shuffling noise. Trent reached for his backpack, extracting something.

“What the hell is that, man?” the friend from before said, his voice notably a lot more serious. “Is that some kind of potion?”

“Yeah,” Trent said. “Legendary Potion of All Defenses. Works against every kind of magic. Basically makes you invulnerable for a few minutes. Just enough time for me to wipe the floor with whatever Expert I have to go up against.”

“Where the hell did you find something like that?” the friend asked, voice quivering. “You can't be serious. You know as well as everyone that potions are banned, man. Spells are okay, but no dopes.”

Trent shrugged. “Please. It’s not like they’re potion-testing. They won’t know.”

“Devola will, man.”

“She won’t.”

“She will.”

“Just back off,” he said. “I’m going to do it my way. You all can be sorry losers in the Intermediate ranks. I’m going to the big leagues.”

Momo pressed herself against the pillar as she heard Trent steam by, his footsteps coming down hard and furious on the wooden floors. The door to the studio slammed behind him, draping the room in an uncomfortable silence.

"Guy's crazy, man," his friend whispered in the other room. "Top of the class but too stuck up his own ass to be happy with his progress. He's gonna get himself kicked from the school for no reason."

The other kids agreed, and they slowly got their things, following Trent's trail out of the room and into their next class, leaving Momo to reflect on what just transpired.

She shut her eyes tightly, sighing miserably.

Damn it.

She was going to have to do something she truly hated doing.

She was going to have to be the bigger person.