Over the course of the next several days Andra was, much to her frustration, occupied with planning the tournament while the generals mobilized the army. There was much to sort out, including choosing a venue and arranging the seating. With the number of ambassadors of various countries and representatives of various organizations who would be present, the arrangements proved to be a bit of a puzzle. Keeping rivals away from each other was important.
Thankfully, the issue of finding entrants was much simpler. There was no shortage of adventurers, mercenaries, and vagabonds eager to prove themselves worthy of being one of the four heroes. Several of the Adventurers’ Guild’s council members signed up, as well as some of the Thieves’ Guild’s higher-ups. Several non-adventuring mages and priests signed up as well. There were even a few familiar names, like Maxim Nobody. Andra was grateful that the tournament was happening on such short notice, or it would have taken days just to get through the first round.
As she looked over the list, she noticed a large number of Athorian priests and paladins, including one who listed her name as Saint Hermia. When Andra pointed this out to Kaylen, the latter grew shockingly angry and insisted on being entered into the tournament as well. When Andra pointed out that Kaylen stood no chance in the tournament without her powers, Kaylen had replied, “I have to try to stop her.” Andra asked her to elaborate, but at that moment Riven had walked in and Kaylen suddenly refused to answer.
Most of the guests arrived the day before the tournament and Andra spent the whole day greeting them and getting them settled in various villas and suites. She was careful to avoid talking about the war itself, the time for that discussion would come later, but proudly boasted of the prestige of her assignment to find the four heroes of prophecy.
Andra had chosen a field just outside of the city for the tournament. She had some seating constructed with the assistance of a group of mages who were less than pleased with their powers being used for something so mundane. They were costly, but it was the crown’s money, so Andra spent freely.
Sections were separated off for the ambassadors, representatives, nobles, and royalty, and Andra made sure to save some seats for herself and her friends. An entire side of the field was left open to the public. Andra also found restaurateurs to serve concessions. This was something she considered of vital importance, as it would help leave the public with the impression that the issue of the demon invasion was well under control and would be dealt with as soon as the heroes were found.
The field itself was wide and rectangular, with its edges clearly marked. There was a few dozen yards of space between the edge of the designated fighting area and the nearest seating, hopefully enough distance that any stray spells would dissipate before reaching the viewers. Invitees were advised to bring opera glasses; everyone else would have to manage on their own.
Judges would be present to ensure that the rules were followed and guards would be on hand to arrest anyone who broke them. Deaths of entrants were anticipated, but deliberately killing an opponent would be treated as murder. In the event of a death, the judges would be the ones to determine whether it was permissible or not.
There were no categories, only a single bracket. So warriors would fight mages, clerics would fight thieves, and so forth. A few people grumbled that this arrangement favored some types of adventurers over others, but Andra dismissed these accusations with whatever platitudes she could come up with. To her, it didn’t matter if the tournament were fair so long as it happened and was seen.
The first round of fights would happen over two days. Andra considered herself fortunate that Kaylen’s fight would fall on the second day. She did not need anything else to worry about. Even as it was, the first day proved exhausting. Aside from an oppressive heat that left her wishing she’d brought a parasol, everything progressed so much more slowly than Andra had imagined. When a contestant became wounded and a judge called the fight, the other judges would often argue whether the first had been correct in ending the fight or if the contestant should have been allowed to continue. The issue was often compounded by the contestant, usually after being healed, insisting that they had been capable of continuing and were being robbed of their chance to be a hero. Often, they demanded a rematch. Thankfully, the judges had looked to Andra herself for guidance in the first of these cases, allowing her to deny the rematch and keep things moving.
The fights themselves were entertaining, at least, especially when mages and priests fought. Those battles would turn into spectacular light shows that only became more impressive after sunset. The other fights were difficult to see, even with opera glasses, but at the very least the guests seemed pleased with the event.
The next day, things moved a little smoother early on; there were fewer arguments when judges called fights and fewer fighters disputing the results. Everyone finally seemed to be accepting the rules as they were. As the morning progressed and Kaylen’s match approached, Andra sat silently between Riven and Fiona, everyone too tense to talk. Kaylen would be facing Andra’s old ally, Aleph. How was an ex-priestess with no powers and little combat training going to win against an experienced, albeit weak mage?
For her part, Kaylen had other thoughts on her mind as she sat, dressed in her old Sanguian clothes, in one of the tents reserved for fighters preparing for their matches. She had joined this tournament specifically to fight Saint Hermia, but she had no idea how anyone, let alone an ex-priestess, was going to beat someone so powerful. Still, she knew that it was something she had to try, for the sake of Marissa and all of her other victims.
With these thoughts on her mind, Kaylen hadn’t even bothered to check who her first opponent would be when she was ushered out onto the field and found herself standing before a mage. A moment later, a judge asked if she was ready and she drew her mace and announced that she was.
For Aleph’s part, he had paid close attention to the various different matchups of the first day. He had observed that matches started with the contestants standing only about twenty feet away from each other, so when priests faced mages, both contestants usually began the match by backing away, putting space between themselves and their opponent. Aleph reasoned that he would be at an advantage if he began casting a spell right away. He would be able to complete the spell before she could summon holy light or whatever other divine trick she planned to use.
What he did not expect was for Kaylen to, as soon as the match began, dash forward screaming “Die, mage,” and swinging her mace. If he had been expecting it, he could have used any of a number of quick close-range spells to stop her, but instead he was in the middle of conjuring a fireball when her mace came crashing onto his shoulder, leaving him in a crumpled heap.
Kaylen stood before her opponent, mace raised and looked to the judge, who quickly signaled for the match to end. For the most part, the crowd was quiet, confused about the strange direction this match had taken. Priests weren’t supposed to rush in like that. They only carried weapons in case their opponent got near them, so that they could quickly throw up a barrier and bash their overly-hasty enemy. They didn’t chase down their foes while screaming like a berserker.
Of course, Kaylen wasn’t completely surrounded by silence. While the crowd might have been confused into keeping quiet, her allies had not. Riven, Andra and even Fiona were cheering loudly, jumping up and down, and hugging each other. After getting a nod of approval from the judge, Kaylen made her way over to her friends and struggled her way over the barricade to sit with them.
As she received their congratulations, Kaylen suddenly remembered which match was next.
“Hey, Riven, I’m really hungry. Would you mind getting me something to eat?” she asked.
“I’d be glad to,” Riven replied. “Right after the next match. I’m curious about who this ‘Saint Hermia’ is.”
Fiona frowned. “I was wondering about that, too. If she’s the saint of the prophecy, why would she be fighting in the tournament? The saint and champion are supposed to be two different heroes.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” Andra replied. “My guess is that she’s real, or at least her church believes that she is. You see, the Athorians signed up a ton of their members for the tournament. I think they’re trying to ensure that one of their number win. She’s here to help eliminate opponents. This way, if the final match comes down to her and another Athorian, she can forfeit the match and allow the other one to win, securing two of the hero positions for people loyal to the Athorian church.”
As Andra spoke, the next pair of fighters made their way onto the field. Saint Hermia was dressed in much the same way as she had been when Kaylen had seen her at the Athorian church. She carried no weapon. Her opponent was someone the party recognized, the man in black who had been working for Antimony Limerick. One by one, they each checked their programs, with Kaylen reading over Riven’s shoulder, to find that his name was simply listed as “Shadow.” Andra rolled her eyes.
Riven examined Saint Hermia through her opera glasses. “Wow, she’s gorgeous. I love that smirk on her face.”
Kaylen felt her stomach twist; she needed to find an excuse to get Riven to leave, but she couldn’t think of anything. She was still fretting when the match began.
The man in black didn’t hesitate. He dashed forward, even faster than Kaylen had, slashing with a knife that had suddenly appeared in his hand.
The saint didn’t move.
From their distance, it was hard to see what had happened, but the knife seemed to scrape against something just in front of Hermia, leaving a trail of white in the air that quickly faded. Hermia had created a barrier.
For priests and priestesses, barriers had several uses. They could be used to protect an ally from an attack or protect one’s self long enough to give time for the priest or an ally to counterattack. However, a common mistake was to attempt to use barriers to exhaust an opponent. If held up against repeated attacks, the priest would always grow tired much sooner than any attacker, even a mage.
Shadow must have known about this, because he continued slashing with his knife in a flurry of attacks, attempting to exhaust Hermia. Suddenly thick bands of white light appeared around the thief, growing smaller until they pinned one arm to his side and the other to his chest. To the others, who were less familiar with the capabilities of priestesses, this seemed like a reasonable action, restraining an opponent to leave them helpless. However, to Kaylen, this was an impossible feat. The only way to hold an enemy in place with divine power like that was with a barrier, but any normal barrier would quickly break under pressure applied in every direction like that. They were, or at least they should have been, worthless as a method of restraining someone.
Just as she had with Marissa, Hermia took hold of Shadow’s chin and stared into his eyes. The thief stopped struggling and a moment later, the bands of light faded and he stood for a moment before turning to face one of the judges.
“I yield,” he called out.
The crowd was silent. Shadow turned to face Hermia again and knelt before her just before she was surrounded by guards who escorted her off the field at sword point.
“What the hell was that?” Riven asked quietly.
“Wasn’t that charm magic?” Fiona replied.
Riven shook her head. “No, that wasn’t human or demon magic. It wasn’t a fairy’s glamour, either. Kaylen, what was that? Is that what saints do?”
“I was hoping you’d know,” Kaylen admitted. “There hasn’t been a saint for so long that there’s no reliable information on what exactly they were capable of. But you’ve studied mind control, have you heard of anything like this?”
Riven pulled out her Magi-net book and started flipping through it. “I’m not sure if I can find it now, but I remember reading about a theory that divine power could be used to force one person’s soul into contact with another’s, altering it and essentially imprinting a piece of the priest’s personality onto the victim.”
Kaylen shivered. Was that what had happened to Marissa?
Riven snapped her book shut in frustration and looked at Kaylen. “You have to let me take your place tomorrow.”
“That’s not how tournaments work,” said Andra. “You can’t just take her place.”
“I’ll change my enchantment to look like her.”
“Why?” Kaylen asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “So you can get her to control you? I’m not losing my chance to stop her just so you can live out one of your creepy fantasies.”
“Kaylen, this is serious,” Riven snapped. Everyone was stunned by the harshness of her tone. “What she’s doing is monstrous. Charm spells, glamours, those are all temporary, but if she’s really impressing her soul onto someone, that might be permanent. She needs to be stopped.”
“I know, that’s why I’m trying to—”
“Kaylen, you saw what just happened,” Riven interrupted. “You don’t stand a chance. There’s at least a possibility that I could stop her. Please, Kaylen, she’s too dangerous.”
Kaylen had to admit that Riven had a point. A mage stood a greater chance against Hermia than a powerless ex-priestess. Once again, Kaylen felt a stab of pain from her loss and once again she forced herself to ignore it, instead wondering if she could really trust Riven. After all, this was Riven the Traitor, the selfish mage who cared only for indulging her obsession with mind control. Wasn’t it most likely that she was just lying to get what she wanted?
However, when Kaylen looked into Riven’s eyes, she saw a fear in them that made her inclined to believe the mage.
“Okay, fine. You can fight her.”
“Does it really matter, though?” Fiona asked. “We just watched her get arrested for committing a capital crime.”
Kaylen’s eyes widened. Fiona was right. Mind control was an executable offense. There was no way Hermia would be allowed back in the tournament. However, that smirk hadn’t left Hermia’s face even as she was being led away.
“I’m just going to check in on the judges,” Andra said.
While she slipped away, a new group of judges entered the field to prepare for the next match. It seemed this one was Maxim’s. He stepped out onto the field wearing what appeared to be a child’s rubber mask designed to look like a roaring lion. He would be fighting against a member of the Guild’s council, a bard named Cleora.
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“He does not stand a chance against her,” Kaylen muttered.
“I have to admit, I’m curious as to what made him think an alchemist could stand a chance in a tournament like this,” Riven added.
The match began and Cleora immediately played a chord on her lyre; the sound was somehow a deafening blast that caused several of the audience members to cover their ears, even as far away as they were. The sonic blast was enough to knock Maxim off his feet, sending him crashing to the ground several yards away and shattering the flask he had been preparing to throw, leaving a dissipating cloud of teal-colored smoke in the air.
Cleora drew a knife and strode forward toward Maxim. However, she suddenly stumbled and her eyes rolled back as she collapsed to the ground. Two of the judges collapsed, as well.
Maxim, on the other hand, struggled to his feet as one of the remaining judges called the match. The judges and Maxim moved towards the edge of the field as they conferred and it was quickly ruled that Maxim’s victory was fair.
While Cleora and the collapsed judges were dragged from the field, Andra returned, looking grim.
“It has been determined that Hermia’s power, while illegal, is too much value to the war effort to be wasted,” Andra explained.
“Wait, doesn’t that basically mean she can use her power on whoever she wants without consequence?” Fiona asked.
“Pretty much.”
“You can’t let that happen,” said Kaylen frantically. “You’re running this tournament, aren’t you? Can’t you overrule the judges?”
Andra shrugged. “Normally, yes. But before I got over there they had already sent someone to ask the king’s opinion. This decision comes from him.”
Kaylen sighed. “This is really bad. We can’t let her keep doing that to people. How hard is it to hire an assassin?”
Riven said nothing, she simply stared across the stands to where the king was seated. The king, who was busy watching the preparations for the next match, didn’t notice.
----------------------------------------
The next day Kaylen was back to being dressed in Riven’s clothes, seated with Andra and Fiona as they waited through the first several matches. By this point, the fights were already becoming boring for most of the party, but this did not appear to be the case for the rest of the crowd as they cheered as loudly as ever at each match.
Riven’s match fell in the early afternoon. As it neared, Fiona nervously looked over at her companions. “I’m really worried about Riven. Do you really think she can win?”
“She’s not going to try to win,” Andra replied. “This is just another scheme to get herself mind controlled.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Kaylen. “She seemed really serious. If she does fight back, I don’t think she stands a chance.”
Andra couldn’t help but point out the obvious. “Saint or not, she’s still human. You were ready to fight her, yourself.”
“Yeah, but I’m an idiot,” Kaylen replied. “Riven should know better.”
Andra could feel her muscles tense as Riven walked out onto the field, looking exactly like Kaylen and dressed in her red and white. Andra couldn’t believe how complete the transformation was. Kaylen’s height, face, hair, everything had been perfectly copied. However, her movements, the way she stood and walked, were all Riven’s. Hermia, as always, looked as if she already considered victory hers.
The match began with Riven stepping backwards while throwing several magical bolts at Hermia, which struck the barrier before her, leaving fading white circles in the air. If the judges noticed that a contestant who was supposedly a priestess was using magic, they didn’t object. When she had created some distance, she switched to more powerful spells, hurling fireballs and blades of wind against the barrier.
Hermia would have to grow tired before Riven, Kaylen thought; even a saint couldn’t hold a barrier up against a barrage like that. But through her opera glasses, she could see that Riven was already growing winded. Hermia, on the other hand, appeared unaffected. She just stood there, unmoving, a small but confident smile on her face.
From somewhere in Kaylen’s clothes, Riven pulled out a small paperback. Looking through her opera glasses, Andra recognized the tentacled woman on the cover. So that really was Riven’s grimoire.
A grimoire was a tool of mages, allowing them to inscribe spells within its pages, which could be called up at any time without requiring much energy. However, inscribing a grimoire was an exhausting, time-consuming process, and many mages either skipped making them altogether or avoided using them outside of the most dire of situations.
“Wow, she’s really putting everything into this act,” Andra muttered, though uncertainty found its way into her voice.
Riven held out the book and the pages began to turn on their own. Her lips moved as she rapidly activated the spells, sending lightning bolts, spheres of crackling dark energy, bursting earth, waves of lava all crashing at the barrier. None of it had any effect larger than a momentary white that gradually faded.
The barrage lasted almost a full minute before it cut off suddenly. Riven had run out of pages.
Riven dropped the book and said another incantation, calling up yet another fireball; as she did so, something about her changed. It was the hair that everyone noticed first. Instead of curly and red and it seemed to move in such a way that it suddenly became straight and black. As she examined through her opera glasses, Andra realized that her build was different, too. She was scrawny, lacking Kaylen’s curves. And her shoulders were broader. Even her face had changed. It wasn’t Kaylen’s face, but nor was it Riven’s. Instead, Andra realized, she looked like Thistle.
Andra felt terror grip her as she realized that for the first time she was seeing Riven without an enchantment.
Riven threw a few more fireballs, using whatever energy she had set aside to maintain her enchantment, before collapsing onto her knees, breathing heavily. At this point, Hermia stepped forward, slowly closing the distance between herself and Riven. As she neared Riven, Riven’s hand shot up, index finger outstretched. A thread of black magic shot from her finger. Perhaps Riven had hoped that Hermia had let her barrier down once she was confident in her win; however, the thread simply struck the barrier and vanished as the rest of Riven’s spells had.
The crowd was silent as Hermia gripped Riven’s chin and forced her to look into her eyes. It was so quiet that Andra could just make out Riven saying, “Wait, please tell me… will I still be a girl?”
At that moment Andra started screaming, “Call the match! End it!”
The judges ignored her.
The two stared at each other for a long moment. Then Hermia turned to face one of the judges and announced, “I yield.”
A confused murmur shot through the crowd. The guards didn’t immediately rush into action this time, but the judges quickly gathered around the pair to determine what had happened.
“I’m going to go sort this out before they go over my head this time,” Andra announced, and hopped the barricade to jog across the field and speak with the judges.
There was a few minutes of discussion, during which Hermia helped Riven to her feet. Eventually, the judges backed away and Andra made her way back to the others with Riven and Hermia in tow.
“I told them that for the sake of consistency, they couldn’t reasonably have Riven arrested for using mind control on her opponent,” Andra explained as she climbed over the barricade. “I’m a little worried about what that will mean for the rest of the tournament, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But due to the use of transformation magic, you two are disqualified. I think they still think that the Kaylen from yesterday and the Kaylen from today are the same person.”
Riven and Hermia followed Andra over the barricade, with Riven receiving some help from Fiona.
“I’m not going to lie,” said Kaylen. “It’s really freaky seeing you like that.”
“Yeah, it’s not exactly my most dignified state,” Riven admitted. Even her voice was lower. “But it’ll be hours before I have enough energy to get the enchantment back up.”
“What did you do to me?” Hermia asked, eyes wide.
“Did I say you could speak?” Riven snapped. Her friends jumped in surprise.
Hermia opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it. Her face grew red and she sighed with excitement.
“What did you do to her?” Kaylen asked, staring at Hermia.
“Well, I wasn’t really sure if it would work. It was kind of a lucky guess,” Riven said. “But you remember how I said she was using Athor’s power to force her soul into contact with her victim’s? Which, by the way, is a really awful thing to do.”
“Oh!” Hermia gasped. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”
“What did I tell you?” Riven snapped.
“Sorry!” Hermia squeaked and shut her mouth.
“Anyway, I remembered how easy it is to make a god withdraw their power from a priest and I hoped the same was true for a saint. I figured that given how much Athor hates demons, allowing your soul to come into contact with one was a big no-no. So, as a last-ditch effort, I allowed her to use her power on me and hoped for the best. Athor forced her soul into contact with mine. As a result, it came into contact with the demon I sold my soul to. Athor withdrew his power and without the backing of a god, my soul with its demonic backing ended up writing a bit of my personality onto her. Specifically, the part that likes having her mind manipulated.”
“You sold your soul to a demon?” Fiona asked.
“Yeah, years ago. Did you think I hadn’t?” Riven replied.
“Wait, but Hermia isn’t really acting like you,” Andra replied. “I wish you were this cooperative.”
“She’s still her for the most part. Her personality wasn’t completely overwritten, she just picked up my desire to be dominated. Presumably she was already way more loyal than I am. Put the two together and… well… Hermia, this chair is awfully uncomfortable.”
Hermia paused for a moment, trying to figure out what Riven was asking. Suddenly it seemed to strike her, and with an “Oh!” she got down on her hands and knees, allowing Riven to sit on her back.
Andra raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve secretly been a switch this whole time?”
Riven shrugged. “Apparently.”
Fiona’s face became frightened. “You two aren’t going to start d-dating, are you?”
Riven shook her head. “Of course not. For one thing, I wouldn’t feel right dating someone whose personality I altered against her will. The only reason I even considered allowing that to happen was to stop her from doing it to other people.”
Riven reached down to stroke the ex-saint’s hair, then suddenly pulled it. The woman moaned with pleasure.
“And remember, she’s still the same monster who changed all those people. I’d never date someone like that.”
Andra chuckled. “I’m not entirely certain if I understand your sense of morality, Riven, but I’m glad we’re on the same side.”
“In exchange for what?” Kaylen asked.
“Pardon?” Riven replied.
“You said you sold your soul to a demon. The way deals like that work is the mortal gets power or some sort of favor in life, then becomes the demon’s servant after death. So what are you getting out of the deal?”
Riven blinked. “I get to become a demon’s servant after I die.”
“So it’s more like you gave your soul away,” Fiona concluded.
Kaylen sighed. “Of course.”
At that moment, the druid who had been hired to maintain the field finished repairing the damage Riven had caused and the next pair of contestants stepped out.
Maxim, dressed in another rubber mask, this time styled after a nonspecific demon, was facing off against the captain of the royal guard, a man by the name of Daryl. Andra hadn’t yet had the chance to meet him, but he was a surprisingly young man who wore brightly-shining armor.
“He’s not going to stand much of a chance against that sleep potion Maxim used yesterday,” Fiona said.
“Maxim can’t use it again,” Andra replies. “While we were wrapping up yesterday, I overheard the judges talking. He was granted the victory for that match, but since there’s a danger of harming the judges, he’s not permitted to use it again.”
“You know, the rules of this tournament really don’t make sense,” Riven said.
“As long as I get to say that I found one of the heroes, I don’t care,” Andra replied.
The match began with Daryl rushing forward to attack. Maxim hurled a potion at the knight, which splashed over his armor. Daryl slashed at Maxim with his sword and Maxim leapt backwards, losing his footing and landing sitting on the ground.
It seemed that Maxim had mostly avoided the sword, but his mask had not been so fortunate. It fell away in two halves, revealing Maxim’s face which was, it seemed, a perfectly normal face. Maxim caught half of the falling mask and used it to cover his face.
“I yield,” he announced.
As one of the judges helped Maxim from the field Andra turned to face her friends “Did you see that?” she asked.
“I think so,” Kaylen replied, confused. The others nodded.
“Come on, I’m going to check out what’s going on.”
“Are you sure that’s for the best?” Riven asked. “He might not want us sticking our noses in.”
Andra waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. We can put him at ease. And maybe even help him depending on what exactly is going on.”
Riven ordered Hermia to stay behind and the four made their way to the medical tent where Maxim had been led. Once inside, Andra dismissed the nearby priests and requested privacy. Then the group crowded around Maxim.
As they had suspected, his face was unusually feminine. It was all soft cheeks and large eyes and button nose. He wore his brown hair short with an undercut that, too, looked feminine.
“So you saw,” Maxim said. It occurred to the onlookers that his voice had always been rather high-pitched.
“Yeah, but listen, Maxim,” said Andra, “your face was only visible for a second. I doubt anyone else even noticed. It just happens that the four of us are a bit more sensitive when it comes to this type of thing.”
“You might as well call me by my real name. Maxine.”
“Come on,” said Andra. “I’m not going to go around deadnaming you, Maxim. Obviously I’m going to be using your real name.”
“Uh, I think Maxim is her deadname, boss,” said Fiona.
“What?” Andra asked. “No, he’s a trans guy. He doesn’t have the means to transition so he wears a mask so people won’t clock him.”
“Oh,” said Kaylen. “I thought he was a girl, but he told everyone he was a guy because only men are allowed to practice alchemy or something.”
“Kaylen,” said Fiona, sounding concerned. “We met a female alchemist, remember?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right.”
Riven sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, those are both completely wrong. She’s an alchemist. She lives in a huge house. Obviously she has the means to transition. But the ISA is insanely harsh in how it enforces its rules. And one of those rules is no transformation potions. In a country like this one, transforming yourself is technically illegal, but the law won’t bother to actually punish someone for it. However, the ISA is another matter. They have their own prisons and everything. If you’re discovered to have made a potion of transformation, you’ll end up in one of their jails, or at least you’ll lose your license to practice alchemy. So Maxine, here, has to operate under her deadname and wear a mask in case she encounters ISA auditors.”
“That’s the one,” Maxine said with a nod. “By the way, what’s going on with you?”
Riven looked down at herself. “Oh, I’m trans, too. Just had to drop my enchantment for a bit.”
“Wait, is going to turn out that her whole team is trans, too?” Kaylen asked.
Maxine snorted. “I wish. Obviously Atworth and I are both trans, but Bessen and Nightingale are cis. Bessen’s straight, too, much to the disappointment of the lesbians of the world.”
“I’m kind of surprised none of them entered the tournament,” said Fiona.
“Bessen said being a hero sounded like too much work,” Maxine said with a shrug. “Atworth said they’re anti-war and Nightingale said she couldn’t go be a hero because she has to protect Kaylen.
“Then why’d you enter?” Andra asked.
“I wasn’t planning to win or anything,” said Maxine, “but I knew that if I made it through a few rounds I would get some attention, which would hopefully bring me a wealthier clientele so that I could continue my research.”
“What about that big Blessing job?” Fiona asked.
Maxine shook her head. “Completely cheated me. I got her the potion and she wouldn’t pay up. So all I ended up with was my advance. Too bad I have to buy everything for my research on the black market.”
“What are you researching?” Andra asked.
“Transformation potions. Even though they’re illegal, I believe they have enormous potential to help people. Imagine what they could do for people with disabilities. I also believe that they could allow for more… comprehensive transitions for those who desire them. Without having to constantly maintain the effect like mages do.”
Riven rolled her eyes. “Oh, so you’re planning to take advantage of other trans people by charging them exorbitant prices to transition?”
Maxine scowled. “Hey, I’ll have you know that I sell those potions at cost. Unlike the potions I sell to idiots who get themselves cursed by fairies.”
Riven sighed. “Fine. I guess you’re not as bad of a person as I thought. There’s just one thing that confuses me, though. Why not just change your name again? ISA auditors wouldn’t raise their eyebrows at a woman named Maxine who looks like you.”
Maxine cocked her head. “What are you talking about? I never changed my name legally. The ISA doesn’t permit the names on their licenses to be changed.”
“Wait, so you’re saying that you wear a mask all the time and your family name just happens to be Nobody?”
Maxine shrugged. “Yes.”