78. Round Two

Sometime during the small break between the end of round one and the official start of round two, Isaac’s tablet screen glowed a familiar gold. He frowned; Lilith hadn’t called in a while, now that he thought about it. He reached down to tap the screen, and the woman’s familiar voice rang out, clear and vibrant.

“Isaac dear, it’s been far too long! I’m hurt you didn’t think to call!”

“Hello Lilith,” Isaac said, ignoring the rest of the woman’s sentence. “Did you need something?”

“Now now, what have I said about always assuming I have an ulterior motive? I simply wanted to check up on you! Why, a whole round has passed by!”

Isaac opened his mouth to respond, but paused mid word. He suddenly realized that the stands had gotten quieter. Scanning his surroundings, he became acutely aware of the eyes turned towards his direction. They weren’t hostile, per say—many were blank and unreadable, and they flickered over to the tablet as often as they focused on him. Isaac had gotten negative attention in the past, especially when he was still a student, but this was somehow worse, to not even know what was being thought. He swallowed, his grip on the tablet tightening.

“Hang on a sec,” he muttered before rising and hurrying down the stands. A path automatically cleared for him as spectators stepped aside in a gesture that had looked completely natural when it happened for Lucius, but not for him. Isaac carefully avoided making eye contact with anyone as he descended down. Once his feet hit the ground, he scanned the area for a more quiet place and, after not managing to successfully find one, settled on ducking behind the stands.

The noise was more muted here, and the area was nearly brushing up against the red tint of the barrier. Beyond it, the rolling plains of the Old Lands swayed and undulated in a sharp wind utterly unfelt by the tournament arena, enclosed in its own protective bubble. He flicked the barrier’s surface absentmindedly, and it was as solid as ever.

Isaac sighed and stepped back. “Okay, what were you saying?”

For a moment there was no response, and Isaac wondered if perhaps Lilith had hung up while he was moving. This assumption was soon proven wrong when she spoke again, voice just as bright and cheerful as ever.

“I simply wanted to know what you thought of the tournament so far!”

Isaac settled down on the grass and leaned back against the stands. It was oddly comfortable. “You mean the matches? They’ve been fine.”

“Placed any bets?”

He rolled his eyes. “I think I’ve had enough of betting for a lifetime.”

“Aw, did you lose to Fable?”

Isaac frowned down at the golden screen. “It wasn’t a proper bet.”

Lilith’s bell-like laugh rang out, loud enough that it probably would’ve been heard by the other spectators if not for the microphone turning on at that exact moment with a signature screech. Fable’s lazy voice drifted over the speakers, casually announcing the start of the second round and rehashing the rules in the least helpful way possible.

“Careful now, Isaac dear. No one bets as well as Fable does. Why, I think they might be able to out-bet me, and I’m a god!”

“I didn’t even do that bad,” Isaac muttered under his breath. He sighed and shook his head, knowing arguing would be impossible. “Anyway, it sounds like the next round’s starting, so I should go soon.”

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Lilith released a dramatic sigh. “Yes yes, I’ll just return to my poor little lonesome.”

Normally Isaac would’ve snorted, maybe added a quip, but there was a faintly muted quality to her words that made him pause. Behind him, he could hear a burst of cheers that literally made the stands vibrate. When he’d glanced at the bracket earlier, a lot of the early matches had large enough differences in levels that they’d probably go by quickly, especially now that everyone had some idea of their opponents’ abilities. It seemed that was indeed turning out to be the case.

He stared down at the tablet, brows furrowing. “You know,” he said slowly, “you could’ve come and watched in person.” He thought about the way people’s eyes had automatically snapped to the tablet, the way Cedric had immediately stopped when his tattoo glowed gold, and added, “You could stay in the commentary booth or something. You’d be a better commentator than Fable, anyway.” Not that that was particularly difficult to achieve.

“Aw, what a cute thought!” Lilith chuckled. “Alas, as wonderful an idea as that is, you know I can’t leave the Golden Lands.”

That made Isaac pause. She’d indeed said that before, but he hadn’t thought it was a physical limitation from the way she’d originally phrased it. “I thought you just chose not to?”

“Oh make no mistake, it’s certainly a choice. A gracious, benevolent, lovely—“

“Lilith.”

“Well, let’s just say we should all be very grateful I’m here to keep the balance! You especially, Isaac dear. If I didn’t keep guard on the place, why, Underside residents could waltz in and out of your surface world!”

Honestly Isaac wasn’t sure the Underside inhabitants would even want to go to Chrowall. He could see a few of them enjoying modern technology or the novelty of it, but most seemed fairly happy where they were, too busy caught up in their own feuds with fellow Underside dwellers. Not that he didn’t appreciate the separation, of course. He always had and, he suspected, he always would.

A second roar of cheers made him jump and nearly drop the tablet. “Shit,” Isaac muttered. He hurried to stand. “I gotta go.”

“So soon? Tsk tsk. Well, keep in touch, Isaac dear! As they say, don’t be a stranger!”

The golden glow faded before Isaac had a chance to respond. He simply stared at the now blank screen, shook his head, and hurried away, tablet tucked safely in tow.

—

After scanning the stands for a close enough seat, Isaac found the front rows all tightly crowded and decided it wasn’t worth trying to push through. Instead, he ended up taking a seat at the edge of the stands near the healing area. Rosalinde gave him a wave as he passed by, which he returned before plopping down to watch the rest of the fights.

He must have spent longer talking to Lilith and finding a seat than he’d thought, because by the time he sat down, the two names flashing across the screen were very familiar.

[ASTER VS SEATON]

He frowned, muscles tensing slightly as the two Woodlands dwellers strode up to the platform. There was no golden light for the round two matches, it seemed. Perhaps Lilith had thought it was too distracting. It certainly made it much easier to see the two fighters, and since Isaac was now sitting away from the stands, he could hear them much more clearly as well.

“I look forward to this match,” Seaton said, proper as ever, though his voice was noticeably more tense than usual. He didn’t move to bow, nod, or do any other gesture that merfolk did, simply remaining standing with his spear held tightly in his hand.

Aster snorted. Whereas Seaton was unusually stiff, the fey was the opposite, tapping her foot, her finger, even her hair seemed to sway of its own accord. “Cut the polite crap, princeling. This is a fight, not a meet and greet.” She jabbed her thumb at her chest. “Aster. Woodlands royal guard, sixth squadron.” As if on cue, the two’s stat sheets were pulled up on the large overhead screen.

Seaton narrowed his eyes, but nodded. He spun his spear around a few times, switching to a two handed grip, and bent his knees in a ready stance that mirrored the fey’s across the platform. “Seaton. 5th heir of the Wavelands.”

Aster tugged a few grasses from her hair, and they immediately sharpened into needle points that she held in place between her fingers. The screen shifted into a swirl of gold, individual particles reforming into dark, bold numbers that began to count down in steady pulses.

Isaac’s own grip on his tablet tightened, a coiling feeling rising unbidden in his gut as he watched the countdown with bated breath.

4…

3…

2…

1…

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