47. Game Proposal
When Isaac stepped out of the subway station, he had to double check that he’d gotten off at the right place. The formerly empty plains of the Old Lands were covered in crowds of people, and a continuous chattering filled what had once been an empty void of silence.
To the right of him, a group of Woodlands fey stood huddled together in a mass, conversing and occasionally bursting out in raucous laughter that made the creatures near them glance over.
In the air, meanwhile, a cluster of demons appeared to be studying the red barrier. They flew up against it and tapped its smooth surface, testing the magic’s strength. Isaac blinked when he noticed Sharil’s familiar half-serpentine form, easily standing out thanks to her stature. He squinted, focusing, and realized that Olzu was sitting on one of her shoulders. Their sheer difference in size was comical, and Isaac found himself snorting in amusement.
Elemental wisps and a small, flying worm-like Abyss creature wove between the groups gathered together. Isaac couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen so many creatures from different realms all in one place before. He stepped forward, silently taking in all the people and checking for any other familiar faces. He felt the tension slowly bleed from his muscles as he did so. It was easy to get lost in the familiar chaos of the Underside, to simply dedicate his focus to the strange and unusual: the weird circular wings of one of the demons, the gem-like skin belonging to a fey, the medieval weaponry some of the Solonell City humans were carrying. The air itself seemed to buzz with anticipation, every living being waiting for the opening announcement.
Isaac frowned and glanced down at the time on his tablet. He hadn’t been going crazy; the tournament wasn’t supposed to officially start for another few hours. Unless he’d royally screwed up the time, people were much, much more excited about this than he thought they’d be, if they were willing to show up so early that, as far as Isaac could tell, the spectator seating hadn’t even been set up yet (Assuming there was a place for spectators. Surely Lilith and Fable wouldn’t forget something so obvious, right?).
“Isaac? Is that you?”
At the sound of his name, he turned around and found himself facing a human woman. She was fairly tall, around his own height, and had long, wavy brown hair that fell to her hips and swayed effortlessly with every movement. She wore a simple, long dress that would be old fashioned by Earth standards, but was much, much less gaudy than anything in Lilith’s closet. Her name was Rosalinde, and she was one of the residents of Solonell City. Her stat sheet pulled up automatically on the tablet screen, and Isaac quietly closed out of it and tucked the tablet back into his pocket.
NAME: ROSALINDE
SPECIES: HUMAN
LOCATION: SOLONELL CITY, SILVER LINE
[CLICK TO EXPAND DETAILS]
ATTACK: 5
SPEED: 12
SKILL: 11
DEFENSE: 5
INSTINCT: 5
INTELLIGENCE: 14
STAMINA: 5
CALCULATED LEVEL: 13
Isaac nodded. “It’s nice to see you,” he greeted. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you participating in the tournament?” Rosalinde, based on all the years he’d known her, was a pacifist who had never once gotten into a fight. He couldn’t even really imagine her watching, to be honest. The event itself didn’t seem like something she’d be interested in.
The woman chuckled. “Oh no. I was asked to serve as the healer,” she explained. Isaac frowned.
“But no one’s actually…” his voice trailed, and Rosalinde nodded in understanding.
“There won’t be any true fighting, yes, but accidents do happen,” she said lightly.
Isaac’s eyes darted back over to the crowds of both competitors and onlookers. A little ways away from the demons, he could see some of the flying creatures playing some sort of game involving moving in a whole lot of circles that looked decidedly dizzying, judging by the way the participants were swaying up and down haphazardly in the air. He turned back to Rosalinde with a grimace. “Yeah, I can see that.”
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She tilted her head to the side. “Are you here to watch?”
“Something like that.” Isaac looked around again, but he couldn’t make out wherever Fable was. He narrowed his eyes slightly. “I’m supposedly doing stat updates at the same time, though, according to Lilith and Fable.”
“Lilith works you too hard,” Rosalinde commented. She shook her head in that graceful way of hers. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time. Do try and relax a bit as well, if you can.”
Isaac was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen any time soon, but he nodded. “Yeah, I will.”
With a final slight bow, Rosalinde turned away and vanished into the ever growing crowd, managing to still look relaxed and elegant amidst the surrounding chaos. As Isaac watched her retreating back, a flash of dull metal caught his eye. He shifted his gaze over and spotted Igor a little ways away in his signature armor. It really did feel like damn near the whole Underside was here. He paused, glancing around some more, but Mortimer was nowhere to be seen. Isaac frowned. Maybe he hadn’t come, or would be coming later. His name hadn’t been on the participant list, which Isaac hadn’t expected it to be, but he would’ve thought the half-undead man would watch at least, if not just for the novelty of the event.
With nothing else to do, Isaac shook his head and turned away, intending to find a quieter place away from the hodgepodge to wait it out until the tournament began. Luck, unfortunately, wasn’t on his side.
“You’re here awfully early.”
Isaac jumped. He felt something grip his shoulder and jerked around, slapping the hand away and finding himself face to face with a grinning Fable. They waved a gloved hand at him. Somehow the red of the fabric looked even brighter against the faint red tint of the barrier. “Yo, looks like you made it. Lilith thought you might not come.”
Isaac frowned, but the other Traveler was as indiscernible as always. “I’m guessing you weren’t worried.”
“Nah, I knew you’d show up.” The Traveler put their hands behind their head in a relaxed motion. “Anyway, I was looking for you, so perfect timing. I gotta give you a run down on things,” they drawled. Fable snapped their fingers a few times. “Come on come on,” they said, their tone similar to one someone might use to talk to a dog.
Isaac scowled, but Fable turned around before he could respond, perfectly confident that he would follow. A childish part of him told him to ignore them, to not give them the satisfaction. The more logical side told him that he didn’t know shit about the tournament and should probably at least figure out where the spectators were supposed to be and what the “fighting replacement activities” would consist of. He glanced around, but aside from the people, there was no visible equipment on the fields. Nothing that might give him a clue.
Loathe as he was to do it, Isaac heaved a sigh and followed after the other Traveler. He would just learn the basics, then find a seat somewhere far away and avoid interacting with them for the rest of the tournament, he told himself.
—
That idea was immediately crushed when Fable led him over to the other side of the fields, through the thick crowds, where a small unassuming booth sat against the barrier. A booth with two seats. They pointed at one of the chairs. “You’re gonna be there with the tablet and record any stat updates,” they said. They pointed to the chair next to it, which had a small microphone sitting on the table in front of it that looked like it wouldn’t do shit given the size of the area, but it had a distinct golden glow around it that meant it had probably been magically enhanced. “And I’m gonna be here giving commentary.”
“Wonderful,” Isaac muttered with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “Just great.” Fable, of course, was completely unaffected and kept talking with that same languid, know-it-all drawl.
“Lilith made the field and seats and stuff with magic, so you’ll see it later. She even made projector screens.” Fable flopped back onto their chair and propped their legs up on the table, their red scarf dragging along the ground below them. “Anyway, we’re starting with, like, a big obstacle course, then a bunch of little events to test specific stuff. Then one more event at the end, and bam bam we’re done and announce the winner. Oh, and winner’s based on whoever gets the most points from all the stuff they do. Or something like that.” After this thoroughly undetailed and half-assed explanation, they pointed at Isaac’s tablet. “Lilith already updated it with all the stuff you’ll need.”
Isaac frowned down at the device. “So the winner should be listed here already, right? For the whole thing and all the smaller events.” The stat sheets should’ve been run through easily enough.
“Well yeah, duh.” A wide grin slowly spread on Fable’s face, one that made Isaac want to step backwards. He didn’t through sheer force of stubbornness. “But you know, knowing the winner from the start’s really boring, right? So I was thinking we could play a little game.”
Isaac narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What kind of game?”
Their grin somehow grew even wider, so wide that it was nearly splitting their face in two. “Simple. You look at the stat sheets and try and guess the winner yourself. No looking at the results. It’s like a puzzle, see?”
“I don’t see how that counts as a game.” Isaac frowned. “Especially when it sounds like you’re not even doing it yourself.”
“Eh, I already know who’s gonna win, so it’s useless for me.”
“And why, exactly, do you want me to do this?”
Fable shrugged. “Think of it like one of those brain games Upper World old people do to exercise their mind or whatever. I mean, it’d be bad for Traveler reputation if you were an idiot, right?”
Isaac narrowed his eyes. Fable’s expression was as casually condescending as always, and their sunglasses made it difficult to discern, but there was a certain sharpness in those eyes, something hard and calculating. The hint of a challenge. He should say no, he thought. This whole thing was a useless farce with no real meaning. Fable was probably just doing it for their own entertainment.
But, on the other hand, it would give him something to do, something to focus on for as long as this tournament went on. And, when he looked at those sharp, steady eyes, he found that he didn’t feel like backing down.
Isaac met Fable’s gaze with his own, unwavering. “You’re on,” he said.