“In a competition, there’s always winners and losers. And I think everyone is here to win.”

Antonio Brown, American Athlete

“It is over, but I have one more gift for you.”

Thoth’s voice did not come from the moon. It was softer and smaller, and directly behind them. The three friends turned around in surprise.

Standing on the shattered stone table was a bird, two feet long with white feathers, tall orange legs like a stork, and black markings on its wings and tail. Its tiny head was bright green, and it had a long, thin beak. In that beak it held a scroll, yellow and cracked with age, and sealed with red wax bearing the image of a ibis head.

“A sacred ibis!” exclaimed Emily, recognizing the bird. “It’s one of Thoth’s sacred animals.”

Rocky stared at her blankly.

“It was in my seventh-grade social studies textbook,” Emily explained. “Page seventy-five, in the section on Egypt. There was a picture and everything. Wow, this Gift of Infinite Recollection is amazing!”

“And useful,” added Rocky with an impressed whistle. “You’ll have to start reading more. Something useful, I mean.”

Emily’s only answer was a playful punch to Rocky’s shoulder.

Bethany held out her hands to the ibis, and it gently placed the parchment in her hands. It was heavier than Bethany expected.

“Listen closely, players, for it will be important for your survival in the God Contest,” Thoth pronounced, and the room fell silent. “When the God Contest began, The Builder told you there would be clues scattered throughout this world that would lead the way to victory. The Knowledge Guild, of which I am a member, are assigned the sacred responsibility of distributing these clues to players. As you have completed one of our arenas, I am permitted to assume my sacred animal form to give you this.”

The ibis poked the parchment in Bethany’s hands with its bill. “A Guidance Scroll. It is the first of its kind to be award in this God Contest. They are very rare, and very valuable. It is next to impossible to win the God Contest without the knowledge contained within, for without it you would be stumbling in the dark. Therefore, I give you this advice. Keep them secret. Knowledge is power, far more than any talent you may gain as the Contest progresses. If other players discover you possess knowledge they do not have, you will find your fellow players are far more dangerous than any monsters that may roam the streets of Regina.”

“Umm… thank you, Thoth,” Bethany said, though his advice unsettled her. The secret of her eye was like a guillotine hanging above her head.

The ibis tilted its head as if it could read Bethany’s thoughts. Bethany saw the ibis stare into her Oracle Eye with deep sorrow for the briefest of moments before he completed his duty.

“I wish you the best of luck, Bethany Fox, Emily Desjarlais, and Rocky MacMillian,” Thoth concluded with pride. “May you find your way through the trials ahead and emerge victorious from The God Contest.”

The sacred ibis spread its wings and took off, and the power of its flight nearly pushed them off their feet. Bethany clutched her hands tight to her chest to protect the scroll as her hair flew around here. Thoth soared towards the moon and faded away in its gentle light.

Bethany, Rocky, and Emily stared at it until it disappeared. The cheers of the audience faded into nothingness, and all that was left was the silence of the grey room with the shattered stone table.

“Aww… shit,” Rocky said with disappointment, looking reluctantly at the black stairs that soared into the sky. “I was really hoping Thoth would give us another way out of here.”

The moon cast a spotlight upon a section of the grey wall, and a simple metal door appeared. It looked identical to the door they had walked through to reach the Arena.

“Oh thank God… um… Thoth,” Rocky said as he strolled over to the door and cracked it open. The sounds and smells of the downtown library filled the Arena.

Rocky held the door for Emily, who smiled and strode through. Rocky followed her with a wave to Bethany. “Come on, Bethany. Let’s go home.”

Bethany glanced around the chamber one last time as Thoth’s warning weighed on her mind. She clutched the scroll in her hands. They would be a target now. It was only a matter of time. She had to get stronger. Stronger than anyone else. It was the only way to keep her new friends safe.

“I’ll protect them,” pledged Bethany. “I swear it. I don’t care who comes after us.”

Then she walked through the door, leaving the Arena of Thoth, Egyptian God of Knowledge, behind her.

* * *

The hounds were as black as a moonless night. Their fangs dripped with saliva that hissed like acid when it hit the stone floor below. They chased relentlessly, their howls asserting the inevitability of death. And with every second that passed, they were growing closer.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

There had been six players when the Arena of Xolotl had begun. The five members of Death Riders, a Regina street gang of little importance, had been looting a nearby electronics store when they had spotted the woman with shoulder-length blond hair and a strip of black enter the Mexican restaurant across the street. They hadn’t seen the black dagger she carried at her side.

“The world is going to shit, my friends,” pronounced the gang-leader Trevor. “Why don’t we go had a little fun with blondie?” They had followed the blond woman into the restaurant. And then their world went to Hell.

There was no restaurant beyond that doorway. Only a narrow forest covered in mist, and a sadistic voice named Xolotl that told them to run. The light of torches appeared and pierced through the mist, guiding their path. The blond woman had smiled and dashed into the forest towards the first torch.

Behind them, the glowing red eyes of the hounds had appeared. And the Death Riders ran.

Now there were only three players remaining. Trevor had been the first to fall, tripping on a fallen branch. The hounds had ripped him apart limb by limb, and his dying screams echoed in the mist. Paul had slammed into a tree while looking over his shoulder, and Fat Charlie had simply been too slow. They met the same fate as Trevor, and their screams joined Paul’s in the mist.

Yet each death distracted the hounds and provided valuable time. Every death increased the likelihood that the remaining players would reach the end and survive.

The remaining two Death Riders – Bart and Simon – did not realized this. Panic clouded their minds.

The well-toned woman with shoulder-length blond hair did not panic. She ran with her black blade at her side, laughing as though she were on a roller coaster having the time of her life. It was not her first Arena, and she had already promised her soul in exchange for her freedom. What else was there to do except enjoy it?

The man named Bart tripped on a stone, and he stumbled to his knees. His eyes grew wide with fear as he scrambled to his feet, desperately trying to regain the ground he had lost. It wasn’t enough. The hounds were on him - ripping, biting, clawing - and his anguish drowned out even the woman’s laughter. And his screams were added to the mist.

Simon ran on, quickening his step, tears streaming down his face. Yet he could see a glimmer of hope ahead. The final torch, burning green. The finish line. If he could reach it, he would survive. That’s all they needed to do.

Simon stole a glance back. The hounds were upon them, faster than ever. With every second that passed they grew closer. “Oh god, we’re not going to make it,” he screamed to the woman as they ran side by side.

Simon pushed with all his strength. He had been a sprinter in high school, and that had only been three years ago. His heavy drinking since then may have slowed him down, but he still had the skills. The final leg was always his strength. He could push harder than anyone. It was his secret weapon.

He pushed forward, pulling ahead of the laughing woman. The hounds closed in. He felt sorry for the woman, but better it be her than him.

The laughter stopped, and Simon felt the woman’s black dagger cut across the back of his calf. Its touch burned like fire, and he stumbled. He fell to the ground, and he felt his leg snap. Simon watched the woman speed ahead. Her renewed laughter was the last thing he heard before his life was ripped from his body.

Becka reached the green torch, and Xolotl pronounced her victorious. She leapt in triumph, feeling more alive than she had ever felt before. The golden disks appeared in the air. She considered them for a moment, then tapped one with her dagger and felt her new talent rush into her. She smiled, pleased with her choice, and strolled through the exit.

She forgot about the men and the hounds. All that mattered was the God Contest. And the power that had been promised to her.

* * *

Delorus Shepherd had seen much in her twenty years as a police officer. Riots, gang wars, and even an assassination. But she had never seen anything like this.

The Atrium of Police Headquarters was filled with people and their belongings. Every police officer that remained alive in the city was at HQ, along with their families, friends, and any citizens who had been lucky enough to reach the HQ from the nearby neighborhoods. The new $50 million HQ was a massive building located adjacent to downtown and was comprised of two parts – the brick three-story box constructed in the 1960s, and the newly renovated former bus terminal that had been next door. The fleet of police cars was positioned around the building to create a makeshift wall, and officers and community volunteers stood behind that wall, nervously watching the surrounding neighborhood.

They were transforming HQ into a fortress, the brainchild of their new Chief, Anthony Benton, who had joined their ranks only last month. It was a hell of an introduction to the job, but the officers had rallied around his vision and charisma.

A cheer began to build across the Atrium, and Delorus gazed up to the second-floor balcony, which overlooked the crowd below. Chief Benton had arrived in his dress uniform. He was tall, handsome, and surprisingly young. He kept his black hair cut short in the military style and had a broad smile that could light up a room. He carried himself with confidence and authority at a time when certain was in short supply.

The crowd grew silent, and he began to speak.

“We have never seen such times,” bellowed Chief Benton across the crowd. He had no need for a microphone. His powerful voice could be heard by everyone below. “There is chaos in the streets. Madness all around us. And we have all lost friends and colleagues to this so-called God Contest. Regina weeps, and we weep with it. Our very lives, and the lives of those we love, hang on the action we take from this moment onward.”

He let his words sink in. “We will not give this city up without a fight. We will not let these monsters pick us off one by one. We will fight back. Rest up, because in the morning, we go to war. We take back our city from these creatures from another world. We will bring back order, block by block, until we have pushed them up against the very walls they have created!”

A cheer rang out amongst the crowd, and Delorus joined them. The Chief had gained a reputation for giving speeches, and this had been his best one. She just hoped they could get it done.

An hour later, everyone in the Atrium had a role to play. Those who would join them in the fight were assigned to a police officer for training. Everyone else was put to work shoring up their defenses, cooking meals, or scavenging for supplies in nearby houses. A war room was established in their largest boardroom, and the second largest was claimed by three elderly women as a daycare for the children too young to contribute.

Delorus volunteered for night watch and took her post after Captain Benton’s speech. She stared towards the sunset, wondering what lay in store. The city was silent, a war zone awaiting its war.

Her mind wandered to the young woman she had met only a few short days ago. Bethany. The girl on the run. Delorus wondered what had happened to the poor girl. She was likely amongst the twenty thousand dead. Perhaps it was better that way. She looked like she had already suffered enough.

How many people would join her in the days ahead?

Delorus’ mind drifted to the great stone walls that now surrounded the city. What lay out there, beyond those walls? Were the walls meant to keep them in, or to protect them from what lay beyond?

Perhaps, one day, she would find out.

If she survived the war to come.

* * *