Vayra and Glade stood in a designated clearing in the forests of the floating continent. Orange leaves shrouded the sky, and the dark trunks clung so tight together they almost formed a cage. Only a few rays of early morning light pierced through.
She shifted back and forth. Fallen leaves and twigs crunched under her feet, but the ground below was solid, packed mud. A bush rubbed against her shin, and she inched away. Of course, she’d found one of the only bushes in the nearby area. Otherwise, it was empty ground and trees—enough obstacles to test the skills of the contestants, but not enough to make fighting impossible.
Her core was full of mana, her scarf was tight, and her scratches from earlier had healed. She was ready to fight.
“There are too many contestants to place into a traditional bracket,” Karmion’s voice boomed, racing across the continent from a distant point. Vayra couldn’t see him, but he was strengthening his voice enough for all to hear. “Only a quarter of the contestants from this phase will advance to the next, where the one-on-one fights will begin.”
Vayra glanced at Glade. They were a team, and they had both been brought out to a starting point in the forest together. While they didn’t have to stay together, the guards saw them as one, and allowed them to start side-by-side.
There was nothing to stop team play in the tournament, but if only one of them met the conditions to stay in the tournament, then only one of them advanced.
“In order to advance,” Karmion continued, “The contestant must reach and maintain control of an island Shrine. They must control it for long enough to claim an Essence Drop from the shrinehead and present it to the guards at the central clearing as proof of their victory.”
Vayra and Glade had been briefed on the event beforehand—and given an empty glass vial to catch the Essence Drop in—but Karmion was explaining for the benefit of the crowd. While this event didn’t take place in the arena, a set of risers loomed over the forest canopy in the distance, marking the location of the central clearing. Only the most important guests could watch this event directly.
Thirty columns of golden sunlight erupted around the forest, forming a three-mile wide circle around the central clearing. Those had to be the Shrines.
Conveniently, Vayra and Glade were as far away from a Shrine as they could be. They were on the north side of the outer bounds of the contest area. They’d be scrambling alongside a horde of other contestants just to make it to the Shrine, not to mention take control of it.
‘Convenient…’ Phasoné muttered sarcastically.
“Stick together,” Glade whispered.
“We take control of a shrine, we get a drop for each of us, then we sprint to the central clearing as fast as we can,” Vayra whispered. They’d been over the plan a few times, but it still felt a little too simple in her mind, and she wanted something more. “We’re going after the shrine to the east?”
But they didn’t know more. All they could do was react.
‘It shouldn’t make a difference which shrine we aim for,’ Phasoné said.
“It shouldn’t,” Vayra concurred, “but we need to work together.”
“The east one works for me,” Glade provided.
“Contestants,” Karmion called, “prepare yourselves.” His voice rattled the leaves and made the branches quiver. “The event begins in three…two…one…now!”
Vayra and Glade sprinted to the north, weaving through the forest. They ducked between trees, keeping their heads down as they swerved side-to-side. Vayra only had a vague idea what the Shrines would look like, but there was nothing else in the forest—she’d know it when she saw it.
‘And don’t forget the beams of light,’ Phasoné pointed out.
Vayra tilted her head up. The canopy thickened overhead as she ran, but not enough to block out the columns of light entirely.
‘I would tell you to keep down and not draw attention until you absolutely have to,’ Phasoné added. ‘That way, no one will target us for being too strong.’
“But Karmion already outed us,” Vayra whispered, turning sideways to slip between two trees. “We have a big target on our back with or without showing off our power.”
‘Which is why I was going to tell you to go fast,’ Phasoné said. ‘The longer we stay out, the more time we waste. They aren’t going to show us mercy.’
Glade wasn’t using any Fortification techniques, but with his enhanced body, he could run faster than an average human. He could put more strength into every step. With each passing second, he gained ground on her. The gap between them separated.
She couldn’t have that. She activated the Astral Shroud, then blazed off through the forest, snaking and slaloming through the trees. She leapt over fallen branches and plowed through the sparse bushes.
After a few seconds, she had to slow down so she didn’t blast past Glade. They ran side-by-side for a few more seconds, but a stray technique from a different God-heir—a blast of stone pellets—tore through the forest, flattening a swath of trees in front of them. They broke apart, navigating around the blast, then regrouped on the other side.
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Two God-heirs (both captains) fought each other, but Vayra and Glade put them behind and kept sprinting.
More bolts of colourful Arcara and Reach-manipulated elements chased after them or shot straight up into the sky. Explosions ripped through the forest, and flashes of light seared her eyes, leaving azure stains in her vision. Whenever a blast surged too close to the observation stands, a wall of water rose up, blocking and deflecting the Arcara before it could do any damage to the guests and observers.
They approached the steady beam of golden light. Through the forest, a mound of grey stone peered through the trees. A two-storey tall eagle statue mantled a platform of stone, and the beam of light joined to its head.
That was the shrine.
The eagle’s stone wings formed walls on three sides of the round pedestal, and a stairway led up to a bowl at the center of the fountain. Runes glowed red on the side of the bowl, and starsteel chains bound a lid atop it, preventing any prying hands from reaching in and cheating the system.
“What’s that?” Vayra asked.
‘A pool of Essence Drops,’ Phasoné answered. ‘One of the most powerful elixirs Karmion can make. A single drop was enough to enhance the cycling rate of any who took it.’
“It’s not dropping anything,” Vayra said. She deactivated the Astral Shroud and stopped at a tree only a few paces from the edge of the clearing. “It’s supposed to drop something, right?”
She ducked down, half hidden by the tree. Glade stopped beside her.
“It is assessing the nearby auras,” Glade commented. “If there are more than two, it will not drop any.”
‘Hence the red runes,’ Phasoné muttered.
“Gotta be the only one on the platform, then,” Vayra said. She sprinted out of the woods and held out her hand. Mentally, she requested the scythe, and Phasoné understood right away. Starlight bled out of her scarf and Moulded the scythe in her hand.
She and Glade rounded the shrine, approaching it from the stairs. Three God-heirs clashed on the platform. One used a sword-Path, like Glade, but hers also had a poison bend to it. Another, a tall man with a silver parrot on his shoulder and a tattered tricorn hat, was a son of Nilsenir—and Vayra recognized the gunpowder-based Path of the Darkflag. The last wielded a staff and used a wind Path.
Vayra didn’t know any of them from the list of potential adversaries. They couldn’t have been too important. But, for good measure, she searched through her bond with Phasoné, just in case the Goddess had picked up on anything Vayra hadn’t.
Nothing.
“I’ll take the powder-Path guy,” Vayra said, whirling her scythe up into a fighting position.
“I will deal with the sword woman,” Glade replied.
“And we’ll split the last between us?”
“I have no objections.”
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Myrrir had the fortune of starting closer to a shrine than most, but there were still two other God-heirs who’d arrived before him. A middle-aged man on an ice-Path and a young man, probably considered a prodigy where he came from, who used daggers and pulses of raw force. He had no clear godly sponsors.
Myrrir drew his jade sword and let the heavy blade weigh on his limbs, then charged into the fray. In a matter of moments, he incapacitated one. The other, bleeding from cuts that his flurry of blows had left, retreated.
Once Myrrir was alone on the platform, the runes on the bowl turned from red to blue. A single nozzle let elixir drip out, but the runes still contained it, and the elixir dripped painfully slowly. A rim of glowing, neon orange Essence Drop elixir accumulated on the spout. It’d be minutes before enough accumulated to drip out.
He retrieved the vial the guards gave him. When it dripped, he’d be ready, but he let his senses focus on the elixir for the time being.
But already, a new presence unveiled itself.
A lapin woman swung down from the trees, guiding herself with maple vines. She wore a leotard of wrapped bandages and wielded a staff of Moulded Arcara and wood. Brown vines wrapped around her hand, and maple leaves floated in the air behind her.
She landed in a crouch in front of Myrrir, holding her staff off to the side. “Wait, wait! You’re Myrrir! I’ve heard about you! You—”
The runes on the side of the bowl turned red, and the Essence Drop stopped flowing.
“You’re getting in my way,” Myrrir said, then swung his sword at her.
It wouldn’t be as easy as he thought, but he wasn’t going home on the first round.
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Larra started as far away from a shrine as possible. That was probably on the command of her father, but she wouldn’t shy away from the challenge. She was on the southern half of the contest area.
Hundreds of different victims littered the area, and all of them had blood of some kind. She didn’t even need to be close to a shrine.
First, she approached a stone-Path woman only a few years older. The woman hoisted an obsidian-tipped spear and turned to face Larra, but she wasn’t fast enough.
Larra engaged Karmion’s technique as best as she could. She’d pierced together parts of it from observing her father, and she knew how to cycle her own Arcara to make it work. She just needed to remember and use it.
She held her hand out toward the stone-Path woman. The woman slashed a few times, and Larra dodged each swipe.
Nothing happened. She could sense the blood in the woman’s body, but there were a lot of other impurities in it—not just water.
Manipulating saltwater was more difficult than fresh water. It was further removed from the elemental authority of her Path. Blood was even further removed.
She clasped her other hand around Gnasher’s tooth and let her power surge up to the strength of an Admiral’s. Her thoughts centered on her friend and her mission, and she forced extra willpower into her technique. “Stop!” she yelled.
The woman’s blood halted for a fraction of a second. It refused to circulate.
Larra lost control after a second, but it had been enough to throw her opponent off-balance. She grabbed the stone-Path woman’s spear and crushed the haft, then snatched her neck and crushed it.
It didn’t matter if she lost a suitable victim. There were plenty more targets to try it on.