That evening, Millagua was at a rooftop mead bar, sipping honey wine with his son and watching the pastel sunset over the vast ocean. To his back, in the east, he knew the darkness of twilight had already touched the Opal Colosseum.

The messenger spirit remained perched on his finger. Siyn fed it a cookie crumb, then shooed it away. It flew out the window and out of sight.

Millagua looked down at his glass before returning his gaze to the distant horizon.

“Read it again,” he said.

To Millagua,

I accept your duel at the Opal Colosseum and choose the time for dawn on the morrow.

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Weapons, to be provided equally to both parties, will include grenades, enchantments, whips, an array of mineral blades, pressure traps, rune-books, and liquid pigment for crafting wards of protection.

Each party will be granted a squire. Parties may assemble before dawn to assess the landscape.

I am the blooded champion of Thooph-thu. Alone, I have won hundreds of tournaments. As a god-general, I have never lost a battle. Some call me Zedd the Bloodthirsty, while others know me as Frost, The Merciless Fissure. There is no way you can win. Your fate, and family, is already sealed.

If you have any honor, I will see you at dawn, as we have agreed.

I have heard of you, oh still one. I know of your time-stasis curse. Your old romance is famous, and all the gods know about how you were not able to control your own wife. How can you hope to control me, then, if you couldn’t even keep your own house together? Say your goodbyes. You are not long for this world, Millagua.

Ziph