They arrived at the town square before Veritas, but just barely. Callan only had a moment to quickly straighten his outfit before the other avatar was striding towards them.

“Mayor. Avatar Callan. I am... pleasantly surprised to see you already here. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” There was an echo of laughter from behind the wolf mask.

“I bet you are,” Callan muttered quietly to himself.

Not quietly enough, apparently. Veritas turned in his direction. “What was that, Avatar Callan?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Switching to offense, Callan added, “So, that eager to be exiled from the village, Veritas? Any ideas what you and your little cult will do after you’ve been kicked off the plateau?”

Inside his head, Xeph’s chuckle was like a low aftershock.

Veritas glanced about a moment, seeming to debate their answer. As they did, more and more villagers began drifting in, apparently drawn by the noise and commotion—or maybe Belinda had some other way of summoning them. Callan had never found out for certain.

At last, Veritas spoke. “I fear you will not find me so easily defeated, Avatar Callan. I could ask you the same—what will you do when you no longer have the precious mayor’s protection?”

“The avatar is not—” Kivi began, but Callan interrupted.

“I’m not worried. At least I have a home to return to, unlike some.”

He’d expected this to needle the other avatar, but instead Veritas merely assumed a relaxed position. They stared at Callan in silence.

What his words did elicit, unfortunately, was a ripple of grumbling in the crowd.

That was an unwise choice of words, Xeph counseled. Callan frowned in confusion.

What did I do wrong now?

Luckily, Kivi leapt in. “What the avatar means is that my own people still support him, as he supported us in our time of need, and continues to support us even now.” She scanned the crowd as she said this last part. “Neither the avatar nor his priesthood will abandon Aos, no matter how this duel should end. Xeph-Zul-Karatl is a god of stone and mountains, and mountains are nothing if not dependable. Right, Avatar?”

“Right, High Priestess.” Callan crossed his arms and smirked at Veritas.

“Dependable. Except during landslides,” the other avatar quipped.

“That’s—”

“Enough of this,” Veritas cut him off, turning to the crowd. “Today’s contest is my own choice, and so I name it now: the challenge shall be held here, and all powers shall permissible, so that there can be no accusations of cheating.”

They held Callan’s gaze, eyes boring into him from inside their mask. “From either side.”

“Okay, you’ve laid out the terms. But what is the actual contest?” Callan asked. He flexed his fingers, his gaze drifting over to the nearby forge. Smoke was already rising overhead, as Alyssa likely rushed through last-minute preparations.

“It is to be an art contest,” Veritas said simply. Callan nodded absently.

“Okay, so should we have everyone move over to the—” He paused.

The other avatar’s words had entered his ears but were currently bouncing around his skull like an overexcited kitten. It took Xeph’s intercession before they finally settled enough for him to register what had actually been said.

Human, you are losing the moment! Focus!

Callan blinked. He glanced at the other avatar. “Did you say, ‘art contest’?”

Veritas nodded. “Unlike some who lean upon their god’s chosen specialization, I wish to keep this contest neutral. Prove to all present that I am the greater power here. That to side with the god Veritas is to place your faith in more than strength of arms. Even in an esoteric field such as this, I am more than confident I shall emerge victorious.”

They’d begun turning while speaking, so by the time Veritas was done they fully faced the crowd, their back to Callan. While he seethed, Xeph’s voice was a distant rumble in his mind.

This is a minor setback, mortal, but not necessarily a bad one. Remember, we did not expect to win today’s contest, but rather use it as a way to rally the support of the villagers. So do that. Use this... whatever it is, against Veritas. Strike now, and then we shall worry about how best to comport ourselves in such a contest.

Right. Xeph made a good point. The battle didn’t matter so long as they won the war. Callan stepped in front of Veritas, cutting them off mid-rant. “Are you certain that’s a wise choice, Veritas? The yeth don’t create art.”

“Ah, but you are not yeth. Correct?”

“Yeah, okay, but what about—?” Callan cut off before he could say you. Instead, he waved in the crowd’s direction. “—I think the good people of Aos would prefer something... how did you put it? Less esoteric.”

“Oh? Perhaps you think we should race to harvest the most plants, or see who could catch the most fish.” Veritas turned to the crowd. “See how little this avatar thinks of you? He does not consider your worth on the grander stage. To him, you would forever be farmers from a backwater village. But with I, Veritas, you could be so much more!”

A few people whispered amongst themselves, but the crowd was by and largely silent. Callan fought to keep a grin off his face. “You about done with your grandstanding yet? Because if so, let’s get this contest started. Unless you would rather change to something else? I warn you, I’m a deft hand at harvesting adle now.”

He made a faux swiping motion with his hand, then pretended to stumble catching the seeds. Laughter rippled through the crowd, and Callan’s smile widened.

Team Xeph, one. Veritas, zero.

The other avatar stared at him without giving away their thoughts. “I am certain of my choice of contest. Now, let us select our judges.”

“Yeah, I guess we would need those,” Callan conceded. Quieter, he muttered, “How do we go about doing that, Xeph?”

Typically, they would be chosen from available observers, with both avatars verifying that the individuals are sufficiently neutral.

“Where the heck are we going to find someone who qualifies as neutral?” Callan wondered. Beside him, Kivi stepped forward.

“I am happy to stand as one of the judges, honored avatars. Perhaps Veritas’s own high priest would like to do the same?”

She glanced around, as if expecting another masked priest to materialize. However, just like the day before, they were nowhere to be seen. At least today Callan didn’t have to worry about them sabotaging their plans—or at least he hoped he didn’t.

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“Unfortunately, High Priestess, you are ineligible to serve as a judge, given your position in Xeph-Zul-Karatl’s cult. As are my own priests.” Veritas glanced around as the gathered townsfolk. “Are there any here who feel they can judge a contest between two avatars without bias or prejudice?”

“I can,” a middle-aged man said, stepping forward. Callan saw Belinda’s eyes bulge.

“Higarth?” She let out a noise that was half-choke, half-growl. “You? Of all people?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Belinda.” Higath bowed towards Callan and Veritas. “Avatars. It would be my honor to stand as a neutral party for this contest. I have spent most of my life avoiding town politics, and my skills lie in pottery, not farming, so I stand to lose or gain little from this conflict. As our mayor can attest, I may not have ever been her closest ally, but neither have I directly opposed her decisions.”

Callan glanced at the mayor, who appeared to now be grinding her teeth to dust. “You lying son of a snake! All those times I tried to draw you in to my inner circle, and you told me you had no interest—How long have you been serving Veritas? Since the town was built? Before? Answer me, dammit, or so help me I’ll—”

Kivi placed a hand on the mayor’s hip. “At peace, Mayor. What is done is done.”

“Hmmph.” Belinda glowered at Higarth. “There’ll be a reckoning for this, I promise.”

The yeth smiled but said nothing. Callan’s gaze flicked between the two, brow knitting together. Luckily, Xeph responded to his unspoken question.

The yeth man is clearly one of Veritas’s priests. Likely their high priest. This is how they intend to win—by stacking the field against us.

“What?” Callan hissed. “I thought they just got done telling us priests couldn’t be judges.”

Ah, but Veritas has never acknowledged this one as a priest, have they? What’s more, we cannot even oppose their choice, as without proof of the yeth’s tainted loyalties we are just as likely to turn the town against us as to see them removed.

Dangit. Callan wanted to argue with that logic, but he had a feeling Xeph was right. Besides, Veritas was already scanning the crowd, looking for the next judge. “I have heard much of this bridge crew, and how they stand apart from the mayor’s authoritarian control over your town. Perhaps a member chosen from their numbers would be willing to keep a neutral perspective.”

Quickly, mortal, they are hunting for another of their priests! At least we know where Veritas’s followers are today. A bright curve to every darkened coin, it seems.

“Yeah, not really seeing the silver lining here, Xeph.” Callan scanned the crowd, and a name burst from his lips before his mind could register what it was doing. “Dosoti!”

“Huh?” The older yeth had been lounging near the edge of the crowd, and now looked about in confusion as all eyes turned towards him. Callan nodded, warming to the idea.

“Dosoti is a perfect neutral choice. You don’t like me, do you, Dosoti?”

“Not particularly,” the older yeth admitted. He didn’t seem bothered in the least stating that fact to the entire town. Jerking a thumb at Veritas, he said. “Don’t particularly care for that one, either. Talks too much.”

“Perfect! You’ll be our second judge.”

Dosoti blinked. “Wait, what? I didn’t agree to that.”

“Too bad.” Belinda appeared to have regained her confidence after the surprise of the last judge. “This is an order as your mayor, Dosoti. Judge the contest.” She glared at him, as if daring the man to counter her command. The lud simply jammed hands into his pockets and grumbled something unintelligible.

Callan turned, grinning at Veritas. While he wasn’t actually certain that Dosoti was a wise choice, it still had to be better than whoever the other avatar had in mind. “We just need one more, right?”

“Hmm. Yes. Though I suppose if there are no further volunteers...”

“I will do it.” The words were barely a whisper, so Callan was surprised when everyone turned to look at Alyssa. She shrank back a moment, then forced herself to stand tall and raise her voice. “I am the only one in town with anything approaching art experience. Also, you all know that I have had conflicts with my mother, that I am more than a mere extension of her will. I am my own person and can stand as neutral in my decision.”

Hmm, interesting argument, Xeph mused. Veritas is certain to reject her, but if we can get the town’s support behind the yeth woman, we will have a powerful ally in this contest.

Callan nodded in agreement. Alyssa might not favor her mother, but he knew he could count on her support in the judging. That would only leave Dosoti as the wildcard.

Not a guaranteed win, but probably the closest chance they’d get.

He turned to the townsfolk. “I’ve heard it said that your mayor intends to pass on her title to Alyssa when her own time comes to an end.”

A wave of gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Across from him, Belinda’s eyes bulged. She took a step forward. “Wait a minute, I never—”

Callan talked over her. “Think of this as a chance to judge Alyssa’s skills and confidence while she herself passes judgment on this contest. Witness your future leader in action and decide for yourselves if she’s who you want to take the reins of the town.”

“Avatar!” Belinda hissed. She yanked at his shirtsleeve with all of her might—not that it counted for much. Against Callan’s nineteen Brawn, she did little more than force him to set his feet. “Whatever game you’re playing at, Alyssa is not prepared for this. I don’t know how you convinced her to speak up in front of an entire crowd, but I won’t let you—”

Gently as he could, Callan tugged his sleeve free. Belinda almost fell over. “I’m not playing at any games, Mayor. Not a yeth, remember? Besides, you should give your own daughter a little more credit than that.”

He shot Alyssa a smile and gave her a thumbs up. Just for a moment, the yeth girl’s face quirked into that mischievous smile Callan been graced with on far too few occasions. Then the meek expression returned as she lowered her head.

Veritas glanced between them and the crowd. “While the Avatar’s flowery words are well-intentioned, I cannot permit a judge who is so obviously corrupted. Her loyalty to her family will—”

“Let her judge!” someone in the crowd yelled. Veritas cut off immediately.

“Yeah!” Another called, “I’ve known Alyssa for years! She’s the fairest, nicest person in the village. She’ll do a good job!

“Plus, her mother is kind of a bitch to her,” another grumbled. Belinda’s head snapped about.

“Who said that? WHO???”

“I think the people have spoken, Veritas,” Callan said, unable to suppress his grin. “Let Alyssa be a judge.”

The other avatar turned and studied him. Finally, he said, “Hmm. Well planned, Avatar Callan. Perhaps you are a yeth, after all, if only in spirit.”

“How could I possibly have planned for this? I didn’t even know what today’s contest would be.”

“Oh? Just as you didn’t plan for a blacksmithing competition?” The other avatar turned away before Callan could respond. They raised their hands. “Very well. I accent to Alyssa being a judge, if Avatar Callan assents to the villager Higarth being one as well. Is that suitable?”

They glanced back at Callan, who merely nodded. His brain was still busy mulling over what else Veritas had just said.

How did they know we were expecting a smithing contest?

Before he had time to dwell or commune with Xeph, the other avatar continued, “Then let the contest begin. The time allotted to each of us shall be one hour, and no more. At the end of which, these judges will decide whose art they prefer. No other restrictions or constraints are imposed.”

Well, that last sentence isn’t ominous or anything, Xeph muttered. Callan silently agreed, but he couldn’t really see how Veritas might use it to their advantage.

“Then let us begin.” With that, Veritas strode away from the square. Callan blinked in surprise.

“Hey,” he called, “Where are you going?”

“Where else, Avatar Callan? To get my art supplies, of course.” With that, Veritas slipped between two buildings and disappeared.

Definitely ominous.

“Yeah, no duh.” Callan cracked his neck to one side, then the next. “So, any ideas what we should do?”

Hmm. Xeph took a moment before responding. Something that does not involve skulls, I think. Whatever art skills you possess, they do not lie in that arena.

“Hey, screw you, I thought my additions were on point.” Callan waved a hand towards the tower squatting in the middle of the square. While not quite as decorated as the bunkers around the village’s edges, he’d added more than a few of his own flourishes during the last few days. “But okay. If not skulls, then what?”

I do not know. Consider what might win over our judges, perhaps?

“Judge, you mean. Dosoti’s the only one that really matters.” The three judges were currently standing apart from the rest of the crowd, periodically glancing in Callan’s direction, as Veritas had yet to reappear.

In that case, what might appeal to the yeth man? You have spent some time with him in the fields. Surely that gives you a few clues.

Callan snorted. “Clues from what? Being ignored and brushed aside at every opportunity? I know that Dosoti enjoys not working and being left alone... maybe if I made a gazebo or something? It could be a place for villagers to retreat to when the weather gets hot.”

Xeph shifted about in his mind. Is a gazebo really art, though?

“No, I suppose not,” Callan admitted. “No more than my tower, decorations notwithstanding. What I really need is something like the weathervane that was here before. Art that appeals to the practical nature of the yeth.”

So do that, then.

“Uh, that might be difficult, Xeph. You know, on account of turning the rock it was sitting on into a friggin...”

Callan trailed off. He looked at the tower again. With noon approaching, it was only casting a small shadow, from within which Belinda stood apart from the rest of her people. She glowered at him on noticing his attention but said nothing. Callan ignored her.

“Actually, I think I might have an idea.” Approaching the bottom steps of the tower, he started to climb.