Hawthorne looked back at the stairs, but that would take too much time; and, more concerningly, the shifter had just reappeared, swooping down from the top floor, her head swiveling as she searched for him.

He gave up any pretense of caution as he ran for the opening in the wall; a two-story drop wouldn't kill him, but he didn't want to risk injuring himself and being unable to continue the game. Hawthorne skidded to a stop right before he went sailing through the opening, grabbing hold of the remains of the wall and giving the exterior a cursory once-over. The stones would give him enough handholds, he figured, and another discordant note from the forest prompted him to take the plunge, slinging his shield onto his back and climbing out onto the exterior wall.

His hands slipped twice, and he lost his footing as the shifter shrieked and took to the air after spotting him shimmying his way down the wall, but Hawthorne focused only on the stones in front of him and the rapidly shortening distance to the ground. Another burst of wind glances off his shield, though the force of it plastered him to the wall for a moment, and he gritted his teeth as he forced himself to keep going, one foothold at a time.

He likely would have lost a point during the climb if the shifter hadn't become distracted by the arrival of an ax-toting elf, who leapt from the top of the castle and crashed into the shifter mid-air, sending them both careening into the forest. The thud of impact earned a wince from Hawthorne, but he pushed it down and the moment his feet touched the ground he rushed for the channel of water, resettling his shield on his arm as he went.

The mist was dissipating as he threaded his way through the undergrowth, and by the time reached the edge of the channel the scene was clear to him:

One of the weirdly-dressed siblings was making use of the channel to fight off the brown-haired kid from Polar Fox, who whipped tendrils of fire at her from the opposite bank of the channel while also defending himself from a woman from Golden Phoenix as she sought to earn a point by telekinetically flinging rocks at him. He deflected with almost effortless bursts of flame, all while never taking his attention off the water-wielding girl as she raised another shield, which hissed and vaporized when the boy's flames came into contact with it again.

He couldn't see their bracers, but he thought someone had to have lost points with all of this going on.

An explosion from deep within the castle barely garnered a reaction from the dueling mages, and Hawthorne decided it was very much not his problem. Instead, he picked his way around the fight, searching for Gideon. A nearby tree caught fire from a stray attack and Hawthorne leaped away from it, cutting a glance at the boy—only to realize the Fox had shifted his focus from the Phoenix woman (who appeared to be down for the count) to Hawthorne. The kid was glaring at him, and the next fireball he launched had to be deflected with Hawthorne's shield.

He couldn't understand the sudden animosity. Does it have to do with Falkner?

Hawthorne bit the inside of his cheek as he blocked again, the searing heat of the flames that flickered along the edges of his shield a stark reminder that no one here was holding back. Hawthorne couldn't afford to either, no matter what issue the kid apparently had with him or his brother.

He dodged the next attack, considering the merits of throwing his shield when it would leave him defenseless, when the Adventurer's Coalition girl suddenly renewed her own assault, shooting a ball of water into the Fox's chest. He went staggering back, swearing loudly, and Hawthorne took the opportunity to dart further into the forest, following the latest round of notes he heard from Gideon.

He was getting closer, and the notes were coming faster—whether that meant Gideon was doing well or fighting for his life remained to be seen. There was a clearing up ahead, and through the foliage Hawthorne made out indistinct blurs that he swore were Gideon and whoever his opponent was.

Brow furrowed, Hawthorne was just about to make himself known to the fighters when he froze, head snapping around to follow a shadow, a flicker at the edge of his peripheral vision. It moved through the trees, soundless and smooth, but he couldn't get a good look at it. It was too fast, too agile. He didn't know everyone's magic that was participating in the games, so he wasn't sure who possessed some sort of speed magic, but he didn't need them getting in the way of him trying to assist Gideon.

However, before he could even begin to plan out his attack, the blur suddenly leaped from the underbrush, using a tree trunk as a springboard to suddenly change direction. Hawthorne staggered back as a fully-grown tiger sprang at him, barely managing to thrust his shield ahead of him to block the glinting claws from ripping into his chest. The tiger pushed off from his shield and danced back, tail swishing, head lowered, strangely golden eyes staring at him intently.

"Who..."

Hawthorne's heart thudded in his chest, his pulse thrumming erratically. The fireballs from the Fox had been aggressive, and the boy clearly didn't like him for whatever reason, but this—there was killing intent behind this move.

Cold calculation glittered in those golden eyes, the tiger circling around him, slinking through the shadows as Hawthorne spun to follow the movement. This tiger was faster than he'd expect it to be—the shifter from Chaos Dogs was quick, but without speed magic she hadn't been much better than Hawthorne except in the air. But this tiger..

"Hawthorne, down!"

Hawthorne dropped flat to the ground on instinct, recognizing Gideon's voice carrying through the fray. A moment later a barrage of golden musical notes flew past him, slamming into the tiger just as it was about to lunge; the beast skidded back through the undergrowth, tail swishing irritably, and it looked as though it wanted to take revenge for that attack—but the notes hadn't disappeared yet.

I know that trick.

Hawthorne threw his shield over his head just as the notes exploded in a burst of high-pitched sound and sparks, the tiger's yowl nearly drowned out by the cacophony of noise. He only dared to look up once the dust had settled and the rustling of leaves convinced him the tiger had made a strategic exit.

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A hand appeared in front of him, and Hawthorne gratefully took it, letting Gideon guide him to his feet.

Gideon didn't look quite as bad off as Hawthorne had feared. The sleeves of his shirt were singed, and his pant leg soaked, his hair in disarray, but he was smiling as he met Hawthorne's gaze, violin ever at the ready.

"Thanks," Hawthorne said. "That guy..."

"Polar Fox, I think."

Hawthorne quirked a brow. "Not Chaos Dogs? I met one of them earlier, a bird shifter..."

"No, I met the other one. He's some sort of reptile. If I'm not mistaken, the tiger is the man who came in with the Polar Fox boy. He's the only one I haven't been able to account for since the start of the game."

The eyes matched, Hawthorne thought. It was one of the distinctive features he'd picked out when he'd seen the Foxes gathered in the main stadium. Piercing, golden eyes, and that sharp-toothed grin he'd flashed while handling Taryn. A tiger's skin would suit him well.

"What happened with your other fight?" Hawthorne asked, suddenly recalling that Gideon had indeed been in the midst of battling someone else when Hawthorne arrived.

Gideon shrugged, gesturing over his shoulder with his bow. "Nothing special, frankly. One of the Knights is out, and I landed hits on someone from the Crimson Blades before they ran off after a Phoenix. And an elf from the Celestials, if I'm not mistaken."

There was a paladin laid out in the clearing, groaning and angrily beating his shield against the ground. Losing to Gideon would be a blow to someone's morale—he didn't look like much of a threat until you were surrounded by explosive music notes, and by then it was a little too late.

Hawthorne grinned. "Lost any points yet?"

"No, I haven't, but I see that you have."

Starting, Hawthorne glanced down at his bracer, and sure enough one of the stones was lit. Damn, he hadn't even noticed. Had the bird shifter's winds nicked him after all? Or had the Fox—

Hawthorne shook off the thought. It didn't matter. He had two more hits before he was out of the game, and there were plenty of chances to score points for Starry Rose. He'd make the remaining time count.

"Well, then I have some catching up to do," Hawthorne said brightly, waving his hand to gesture Gideon ahead of him. "C'mon, partner. I still haven't seen the brother from the Adventurer's Coalition and I'm curious what he'd been up to."

From then on, the participants converged in the forest, with the water channel being the most popular spot given the siblings both had an affinity for the element (water and ice, respectively), and it was a high-speed battle of hit-or-be-hit. Hawthorne scored a hit on on the boy from the Adventurer's Coalition, who was busy trying to convince his sister to pull back, you absolute maniac, which was evidently his last, as he sighed dramatically before trudging off the playing field, ignoring his sister's jubilant laughter as he went.

The other woman from Golden Phoenix, who'd evaded the Knight and Blade, had apparently taken note of—or perhaps been told of—Hawthorne's weakness, because she flirted shamelessly with him as she glanced sword strikes off his shield, her nature magic tripping him up with snaking tendrils and scratching branches all the while. To the surprise of no one, she managed to whack the flat of her sword into his shoulder, dancing back with a delighted laugh before he could retaliate.

Hawthorne took a little too much pleasure in seeing her struck by a bright red note from Gideon a minute or two later.

The second Knight was the next to be eliminated, followed by the pair of elves from the Celestials. The boy from Polar Fox and the girl from the Adventurer's Coalition took each other down in a rather dramatic clash of water and fire, the battlefield disappearing in a cloud of steam for a moment before it was revealed they were both flat on their backs in the muddy, scorched earth, their bracers lit up completely red.

The Chaos Dog Gideon had fought won out against the remaining Phoenix but was immediately hit by the Crimson Blades duo, two fighters with a variety of weapons and some type of illusion magic Hawthorne didn't want to get too close to.

He didn't realize how much the numbers had thinned until Gideon finally took his third hit from a Blade, which left Hawthorne alone with the Blades and-–the other Fox, which dawned on Hawthorne when the tiger slammed him into the ground, claws sinking into Hawthorne's side when he punched out with his shield to drive the beast's gaping maw away from his shoulder.

Gods-damn him, that means I'm out.

The game wrapped up quickly after that. Whatever their magic, the Blades didn't stand much of a chance against the Fox, and when they'd finally fallen, the same bell chimed through the arena, signaling the end of the game.

Hawthorne let out a heavy exhale as he sat up, wincing at the way his muscles pulled around the wound on his side. Sia would be able to treat it so long as she wasn't too exhausted from her own game, but even if she couldn't, Hawthorne wasn't that concerned with it. It hurt, but he'd gotten the Fox off him before any real damage could be done. Some stitching and bandages and he'd be good to go.

He was about to stand and make his way out of the forest when he saw the tiger transforming, fur sliding back into human skin as it stood on its hind legs, shaking itself out until a man stood in its place. The shifter raised his arms over his head in a languorous stretch, mouth open in a leonine yawn. He flicked his gaze around the clearing, wrinkling his nose, before he strode off into the trees for the exit without a backwards glance at the competitors he'd mercilessly defeated.

Hawthorne wasn't the type to hold grudges, but...something about the shifter struck a nerve with him. As much as he wanted a chance to talk with Falkner, he found himself hoping Polar Fox didn't make it past the first round. Given the Foxes' performance here, though, he thought that was a pretty far-fetched possibility.

Scores were announced once they were all gathered again at the entrance to the stadium. Hawthorne admittedly glossed over the scoring system itself, more concerned with his and Gideon's actual scores and how they ranked compared to everyone else.

The Fox-–Knox Moore, apparently–-scored the highest, earning thirty-eight points, with both Crimson Blades right behind him. Gideon ranked higher than Hawthorne with thirty-three to his thirty-one (something about Gideon's ingenuity with his magic giving him a boost; Hawthorne was proud of him regardless). The Adventurer's Coalition girl and the other Fox did unsurprisingly well, as did the druid swordswoman from Golden Phoenix. Everyone else fell somewhere in the middle, apart from the Knights, who scored...very low.

Hawthorne felt bad for them-–neither of them seemed to be bad people, and they'd clearly put their all into the game. But they were slow under all that armor, and the paladin's holy magic hadn't done them much good with nothing suitably unholy to go up against. They hadn't seemed to adapt well to the terrain, either, from what Gideon told him later. Maybe they'd have a better chance of success in one of the other games.

But he had his own guild to think of, and he was quietly pleased with himself for doing as well as he had. He'd have loved to beat out Knox for first, but...this was good. He'd done good.

"Brace yourself, Thorne," Gideon said as they left the stadium together. "We might be walking into a disaster, depending on how Sky and Sia fared in their game."

Hawthorne laughed, slinging an arm around Gideon's narrow shoulders. "Sky doesn't stay down for long. If she did have problems, she'll just be that much more determined to win in the individual duels."

Gideon hummed his assent. "That's true. I'm more worried about Sia's sanity, though."

"Ah...yeah, okay, that's fair."