Tal stood, a grin forced across his mouth. His right hand hovering over the hilt of his sword, ready to grab it should he need it. He was wearing his armor, polished and gleaming in the sunlight.

He took a single step, ignoring the sound of water splashing underneath him. He too ignored the crowd as they roared from their seats.

None of it mattered to him. Only his opponent and the man sitting high above them…

The fight was already a foregone conclusion. He and his counterpart were merely actors putting on a performance.

Politics…

Sitting at the very top of the coliseum was the High Prophet, staring down at the fight with mild interest. He took a sip of wine from a golden chalice and frowned.

Bring this fight to its climax then… Finish it.

Tal nodded, not actually hearing the words but knowing all the same. A moment later he dropped his smile and stared at his opponent.

The man was heaving with exhaustion, barely thirty yards away. Meanwhile, Tal was perfectly fine, having danced around his opponent’s attacks.

I could end it now but… He won’t be satisfied. Forcing himself to smile again, Tal spoke up and mocked the other man. “Are you done already? I haven’t even drawn my–”

There it is. A sense of danger alerted him, his opponent was about to unleash a curse.

He leaped to the side as something hot sailed past him. The sense of foreboding stayed with him, however, and he kept moving. Bolts of fire streaked by, landing and exploding.

Without warning, Tal stopped and watched as a single bolt seared past him. He could feel the intensity of its heat. Impressive…

The fight was coming to its climax.

His opponent’s sword entered his vision. He ducked instinctively, not watching the blade fly mere inches from his head.

“Last chance… Submit and he might spare you,” Tal whispered, already knowing the answer. He didn’t bother waiting and lunged forwards towards his opponent.

The man jumped back, but he was left off-balance and out of position.

Tal pressed his assault– A premonition struck him.

Annoying… He clicked his tongue and listened, jumping back in time as a wall of fire erupted and separated the two. His armor heated up from the intensity, threatening to cook him alive.

Finish this, I grow tired.

With a grimace, Tal nodded once more. The High Prophet would get what he wanted.

He gripped the handle of his sword and drew it. The blade shimmered in the flame’s light as he sucked in a breath and got into a low stance.

I will show mercy and end this in one go, he decided. His opponent didn’t truly deserve being made into a spectacle, but circumstance called for it.

Politics…

Tal briefly wondered if it was really necessary, especially because of who he was facing…

His attention came back to the wall of flames that towered over him, ready to burn away his life. They would not stop him.

With a quick prayer to the Lord for what he was about to do, Tal felt the holy energy within his body stir. With it, he cast a blessing upon himself.

The world shimmered and condensed around him, distorting his vision. The air grew wet as water formed and enclosed him.

He dove through the flames…

The outside world grew silent and still, watching in nervous excitement as he disappeared into certain death–

Tal exploded out from the other side, dropping his blessing and letting the water crash to the ground. His opponent was in front of him, eyes wide in shock.

Relying solely on his senses, his premonitions, he adjusted his course and readied his sword to stab.

Tal thrusted.

His opponent vanished.

The wall of flames died.

A wheezing gasp escaped from the other man.

He had seen through the trap, his sword thrusted to his left. It pierced through the man’s armor and heart.

“T-Tal…”

“Sleep well, brother. I will join you when I am done.”

Silence…

A single tear ran down his cheek as the deafening roar of the crowd slowly came back to him. Again, he ignored them and laid the man down softly, slowly pulling his sword free in the process.

Kneeling, he closed his brother’s eyes and said a final prayer.

Your journey ended today, but you are with our Lord now. Watch over me and give me the strength to see this through to the end.

Finishing, he took out a dagger and cut a lock of hair before standing. His eyes scanned the top of the coliseum before locking onto the standing figure of the high prophet.

Politics…

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“Dying…?”

Felix nodded, his expression severe. This was not going to be a fun conversation, and there was much to talk about, much that he had kept away from everyone…

He was frustrated, with himself, with Watcher, and with Yedril. Though he knew the elf, the boy, didn’t deserve it–

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A boy… He is, isn’t he? Felix hadn’t really thought about that. Yedril was the youngest amongst the elves, it was clear to even him. Yet, that made him wonder…

How old am I? Am I twenty? Thirty? Forty…? He didn’t know, and the fact he had come back from death only made it more confusing. Am I not even a year old then? Or does that make me centuries–

He suddenly shook his head and jumped to his feet, startling Eri and Kyrith.

Focus! He was only distracting himself. Distracting himself from the questions he needed to ask, from the decision he would soon have to make. And that decision was approaching rapidly…

“Felix? Are you alright?” Eri asked, starting to get up herself.

He turned to face her, quickly gesturing for her to stay sitting. “Sorry, I’m… I just need to stand.” He took a deep breath and centered himself, feeling the comforting emotions of Zira washing over him through their bond.

Thank you, he said to her and switched back to Eri. “I’ve learned what’s wrong with Yedril. His soul is cracked and flaking. It seems to be unable to produce mana at all, and worse… It's rejecting everything but essence.”

“Essence?” She looked up at him with worry and confusion. Suddenly her eyes lit up in understanding. “Mana essence!”

It was his turn to look confused. “Mana essence? What do you mean?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “My knowledge on it is lacking… I do know some things but–” her voice lowered to a whisper “–this isn’t good.”

Felix approached and kneeled down in front of her, staring into her eyes. “Eri, please, tell me what you know.”

She nodded. “Mana essence, or just essence, is a fundamental element of mana. From my own understanding, it’s what gives mana its real power. Though, supposedly, there are other elements.”

“Element? Real power? How does any of that work?” he asked.

“I’m…not sure. Aluin only explained that mana could be separated into various elements. That, and without essence, mana would be more limited…”

He let out a sigh and stood up. “Right… Essence, however it works, is what Yedril needs.” He turned away putting a hand up to his chin in thought.

If I can figure out how to separate mana into these…different elements, then maybe… Just maybe I can save him. Easy and simple. He tried to joke to himself, the stress was starting to mount.

He felt Zira nudging him through their bond.

“Maybe the egg can help?” the amethyst dragon suggested out loud, for the benefit of everyone else.

“How so?” he asked, looking towards her with hopeful interest. It wasn’t the first time she had figured something out that should have been obvious to him.

Zira lifted her head up and gave him a smile fit for a dragon. “Felix, I’m a void dragon, remember?”

He let out a nervous chuckle. “Don’t tell me you can tell what type of dragons are in those eggs…”

“Maybe…” She shook the thought away. “But no. That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?!” He let some of his frustration out unintentionally. Sorry…

I know. “Watcher chose those four eggs, picking them out for our new friends. Who’s to say the egg meant for Yedril doesn’t contain an essence dragon?”

As Zira said that, something clicked for Felix. Did he know? There’s no way but… No, it can’t be! His eyes began searching the hatchery, looking for the kobold that he knew was there.

“WATCHER!” he shouted. “I know you’re in here! Come!” He tried to slow his breathing, in truth he wasn’t sure what to feel. Relief? Anger? Something else? He just didn’t know, but soon he would.

After a few moments of silence, Felix saw the familiar form of Watcher rush out of one of the nearest dens. The poor kobold ran towards him before dropping to the floor and kowtowing.

“Master! Watcher–”

“Stand up, Watcher. We need to have a chat.” He said coldly.

“Felix!” Eri called out, this time she was already on her feet and coming to stand between them.

He looked between her and the kobold, still trying to decide on the correct emotion.

Calm yourself, Zira instructed.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Right… I’m sorry–

Don’t apologize to me, apologize to him.

He nodded and opened his eyes to stare down at the kobold. “Watcher… I’m sorry for that,” he tried to keep his tone calm as he spoke. “But please, I have some questions.”

Watcher slowly rose, visible shaking. “Master… Watcher sorry! Watcher only try helping!”

Glancing over to Eri, he gave her an apologetic look before lowering himself down and gesturing for the kobold to come closer. “I know, but can you answer some very important questions for me? Yedril’s life is hanging in the balance.”

The kobold slowly came closer and nodded.

“Good,” he smiled, reaching out and patting the top of Watcher’s head. “How did you choose those eggs?”

The old gray kobold swallowed and peered into his eyes. “Master… Watcher– I… I was guided…”

“Guid–” Felix stopped himself. “Did you just say, ‘I?’”

Watcher ignored his question and continued. “I-I was guided! Watcher was led… Watcher– I was empowered!”

Felix nearly fell backwards as the kobold grew more animated.

“I felt it! Watcher feels it! I guided by her! Old Master sings, guides I… Tells Watcher! Shows I! She with Watcher, she with I! She with Master!” He jabbed a finger into Felix’s chest, which did cause him to fall over.

Meanwhile, the kobold fell to his knees and stared up at the imaginary sky above them. “She guides… I listen…”

Still laying on the ground, Felix turned his head to see Eri. She had backed up, clearly scared by what just happened. He sat up, realizing what he must do, realizing the decision he needed to make.

Crawling over to Watcher, he pulled the kobold into a hug. “You’ve done well, Watcher.” He pulled away and looked into the kobold’s crying eyes.

“Thank you.”

He let go of Watcher and looked over to Kyrith. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Oh! Certainly!” The ember-colored dragon leaped up.

“Keep him company for me, please?”

“Sure thing!” Kyrith came over and plopped down, curling up around the silent kobold. He let out a deep rumbling purr, causing Watcher to stir slightly.

Felix let a weak smile show. “Thank you.” He patted the dragon and stood up.

“Now,” he turned to face Zira and Eri…

“Who wants to hatch some eggs?”

----------------------------------------

“Your fight was exemplary! Truly, you are worthy of the title… Please rise, Tal, our Champion!”

Tal rose to his feet, slowly lifting his head up to meet the gaze of the High Prophet. “You honor me, your holiness!” he shouted over the cheering of the crowd.

“Indeed! Now come and stand next to me!”

He froze for a moment, this was not how it was supposed to go… We’re going off script, it appears. Realizing that he was caught off guard, a noteworthy feat, he reacted quickly.

With a confident stride, Tal came and stood next to the High Prophet, offering a bow as he did so.

Smile and wave to them, we will have much to discuss afterwards.

He swallowed but did as he was instructed, forcing a smile.

Tal should have been happy, this was it. This was what he worked his whole life for. This moment right here…

But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was himself standing upon a pile of bodies, regret etched into their faces.

Men, women, even children… Race did not matter.

Yet there was more to it than that, even more than his brother’s face amongst the bodies. Standing above him, on his own pile of bodies, was a man he had never seen before.

He had never seen him, yet he knew his name…

Felix.