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Chapter 13.1

Lavastro fought her face with every step.

She felt it tugging as she moved, muscles contorting like an eel held slick and loose in her hands. Struggling to twist downwards into a grimace, or to send her lips curling upward with disgust.

Still your thoughts. Seize your emotions. Master yourself.

Repeating the mantra did little to still Lavastro’s rebellious features, but she felt herself calm somewhat. It was only a short orientation. There was little reason to let herself be riled up.

Walking out into the glare of the lights, the audience’s roars hit her like the blow of a hammer.

“Princess!” They cried. “Alabaster!”

How she hated those names.

Princess, as if she were some Unixian bint with an empty head and authority handed to her by nepotistic whimsy. Alabaster, the colour of Taiklos, one accepted by the denizens of Unix for its symbolic purity and innocence.

Both words a scalpel, cutting from her true titles all connective tissue tethered to the nation she’d earned them from. Elevating her through ignorance to the level of near-civilised.

She swallowed her bitter bile, knowing it was neither the time or place.

Lavastro stopped walking as she reached the arena’s heart, waiting for the ruckus emanating from all sides of her to die down. It took the better part of a minute before she could so much as hear her own thoughts.

“Good evening, Udrebam!” She called out, injecting every scrap of positivity she could manage into the greeting.

She’d timed her words right; just late enough for impatience to grow and be quelled, just soon enough that it quickly instilled silence as a million faces leaned nearer still to hear.

“Let me be the first to welcome you all to this year’s Sieve, I’m sure it will be one to go down in history!”

Clapping answered that, sporadic and diffused throughout the titanous mass of people. Like music in her ears.

“Now, I’m sure some of you will be wondering what exactly it is that I of all people am doing presenting a Unixian event. Believe me, I’m almost as confused as you are.”

It was almost the truth. Lavastro had taken some time to piece together why she’d been offered her position in spite of recent animosity. She could almost taste the faceless crowd’s uncertainty, even with her presence announced beforehand.

“To cut the story short, I’m here as a show of good will and comradery between our nations.”

Lavastro forced as genuine a smile as was possible in the presence of so much silent scrutiny, continuing with a flourish.

“And it’s my honour to take part in this great event, hosting it for such fine people as you.”

It almost brought a wince to her face, hearing her own voice form such blatant fabrication. On a regular crowd Lavastro would surely have gotten away with it, yet the people before her were Unixian. At least half were likely Solifates, one in ten devoutely so.

Many of the people for whom she was performing would label her a savage by her nation, a whore by her atire. Such people would have been unfazed by her clothes being more appropriate to Unixian sensibilities, nor her voice taking on a closer mirror of their own accents.

Leaving both unchanged and angering them gave her solace.

“We’re all still reeling from the exciting turn of events in the first stage, I for one certainly didn’t expect half of what we saw, and this year’s Sieve is looking to be a greater pool of talent than any other. But I’m here to tell you that things will only get more exciting from here.”

That set an emotional kettle boiling, and Lavastro gauged she had a mere five seconds before the crowd produced noise too great for her voice to carry over.

She waited four before continuing, making full use of the tension.

“I’m sure it’s no secret among you that I have friends in all continents, but today it’s my privilege to announce that one of the closest among them will be making her debut into the world of mysticism in this very event.”

Once more, Lavastro waited. Knowing that it wouldn’t take long for the people before her to begin speculating.

Barely any longer before they drew near to the obvious answer.

“Gemini Menza, daughter of Gilasev Menza and new frontier of magic, will be competing from the second stage onwards- putting her own talents, and my careful tutelage, to the test against Unix’s finest. I think I speak for all of us when I wish her the best!”

Lavastro knew for a fact that she didn’t.

Gemini was a clever girl, yet even she seemed oblivious to just how tenuous her position in the world was.

Daughter of a renegade Menza, her name had little official power tethered to it in Unix. Her father’s position as Herald of the Have Empire was the only source of his true authority, save for his almost honourary position as a Unixian Baron. Even the Heraldry was more tenuous than most, by the place of his birth and shade of his skin.

And yet the cheers Gemini’s name invoked were undeniable. Talent, Lavastro supposed, was a universal currency. That the girl had four helpings of her family’s beauty couldn’t have hurt.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

But then Menzas knew all about getting by on brute charisma.

“I for one can’t wait to see how she performs. Fourteen years is little time to grow into one’s powers, but I can attest personally that any who underestimate Miss Menza are going to be unpleasantly surprised.”

There would doubtlessly be those complaining about Gem’s entrance coming so early, a full year younger than other contestants were required to be. With any luck the emphasis on her youthful disadvantage would mitigate them.

“However, as much as Gemini herself would love me to continue talking about her, I think there are matters at hand of far more import- the rules and arrangements of the second stage chief among them.”

There had been a risk of losing the crowd’s focus with her tangent, but it needed to be done. Lavastro recaptured their attention by moving to the matter at hand.

She spoke quickly, sensing the novelty of her surprise wearing thin. Conveying to the crowd all that they needed to know.

Lavastro kept an eye out for faces of interest among the insignificant, gaping Unixians. Having moved on from the areas of her performance requiring the most caution, she could afford to multitask.

“The second stage will begin tomorrow, and unlike the first it will feature teams already determined by the Sieve’s organisers- the members of which will pass or fail collectively, regardless of individual action.”

No one of any note leapt out to her, even as she touched her magic and let it flow into the ocular ability she’d grown to rely on so much. Over a hundred faces flashed through her mind in a second, a thousand more by the time she paused for breath.

It was a mere fraction of the assembled crowd, and she found no sparks of recognition leaping up from the depths of her memory.

“The scrying slates you’ve surely noticed tethered about each contestant’s wrist will serve as beacon and compass alike; enchanted by Manamicists to keep their wearers aware when they’re within the vicinity of teammates. Necessary, as the contestants will not be entering each stage as teams- nor even will they be told with whom they will work.”

She saw him then, tucked away in the middle of the contestant’s section as though he were just another aspiring mystic. Blonde hair, near golden, rosey face, near copper, and eyes greener than crushed emeralds.

“Yet another difference is the objective. Unlike the first stage, it is no longer necessary to move throughout the contest area to progress… or rather, not directly necessary. Points will be the determiner of success, measured in hundreds and thousands. Gained from defeating the various enemies and obstacles left to challenge our contestants within the task. I will warn our contestants here and now, many of these will be formidable. Powerful magical creatures, or even condemned mystics given a new chance to loose their power. Be wary.”

For a moment Lavastro found herself amazed at just how unassuming the child of Temporis was. It was only seconds of staring that made her realise why.

He was just that. A child.

“As has been the case in previous years, enemies are assigned value based on how dangerous they are determined to be- something decided impartially by my fellow organisers. Chief among these is, as always, the Prime Target. For those of you who aren’t familiar with…”

She looked further, feeling her thoughts and tongue detach from one another as they had so many other times. Different arms of the same mind, independent and untouching.

Deka Xenus sat just a dozen paces from the Temporis child; her dark hair bound in a bun, ebony skin bearing an unhealthy palour. Lavastro found herself doubting the decision to have her interact with Gem before the task.

No. Second guessing is pointless, what’s done is done.

She moved on from the girl, eyes still sweeping through the crowd. Words still capturing their gaze.

Crow found himself marvelling at the Taikan princess. More than her beauty, bearing or legendary presence, he was awed slack at the knowledge that anyone could face such a crowd as unflinchingly.

Astra was leaning forwards so far as to almost drop into the seat in front. Her eyes were wide and focused, catching every word and tone from the Princess. Admiration?

Worship, surely, described it best.

He studied Alabaster as she spoke, finding himself surprised by the eloquence with she did so. As if her speech were a painting, every syllable the masterful stroke of a brush.

Unusual among Taiks after all. Certainly nothing like the warring, backwards savages so many stories and anecdotes told tale of.

It was almost enough to distract him from the Sieve’s rules. Almost

Crow latched onto Alabaster’s every word, frantically searing them into his mind even as he listened for those that followed. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing his memory could store everything as well as it did images.

He wasn’t sure how long Alabaster spoke for. Long enough that the crowd grew restless, at least. Before she stopped, Crow swore he saw the woman’s eyes flick over to rest directly upon him.

It lasted no more than a second, but it was time enough for a chill to run down his back. Something about the look left him ill at ease. At once impassive and appraising.

The feeling was almost enough to keep Crow from noticing what else she said.

We won’t be entering together?

It was news as bad as he could have expected. His abilities were useless in long distance travel or scrying, any contestant with capacity in those areas would find advantage over him.

The thought weighed on him long after Alabaster’s speech concluded, stifling even the radiance of her smile as she bid the crowd goodnight. He clapped absently, along with most of the stadium, stopping only when she disappeared back into the tunnel from which she’d emerged.

“Is something wrong?”

He turned to Astra, almost feeling guilty at the concern that suddenly tainted her joy.

“No, I’m just thinking about the second stage. Can’t say I like my odds.”

He forced a smile, hoping to still her worry.

“Don’t get too hung up on that, Birdie. I’ll certainly be with you from here on out- and I don’t intend to let you go through another stage alone.”

“How do you intend to find me?” Crow asked. “Pit, what do you expect to do even if you can? We have no control over which team we end up in.”

Astra grinned. There was a ferocity behind the expression, older and wilder than he'd seen her.

“You keep forgetting, I actually planned on entering this year’s Sieve- for years in fact. I’ve learned everything I could about the previous ones, even without your memory.” Her smile widened. “And from what I can tell, familiarity has always been a big factor in team-building.”

It dawned on him then, painting across his face a grin to match Astra’s.

“You mean we’ll be on the same team?”

“I do.” She answered. “Or rather, we almost certainly will be. Frankly if someone manages to be more familiar with either of us than we are with each other, it will be through Manamis.”

“What’s our plan then?” He asked. The questioned earned a look scathing enough to make his skin itch.

“Are you just expecting me to spoon-feed you one?”

Crow said nothing, which seemed enough of an answer for his sister.

“Well, it’s not like I hadn’t thought of it already.”

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Unixian Alliance Mystic Recruitment Poster, Sponsored by the Zoric Faction, Location: Udrebam.

Circa 1,195 I.E.