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Moody Blues

Gabriel stood up from the box seat, anxious but satisfied. In the field below the bodies had vanished back underground, one to burial and one to the dungeon infirmary.

It’ll take a while for them to heal him, but aside from that he’s a good enough warrior.

He turned to one of the guards, “What was his name again? The one with the conduit?”

“The announcer said ‘Stiletto’ Joe, sir.”

“Why stiletto?”

“An allusion to his weapon, I assume.”

“Not a good one if so. The Soldier’s Hilt should not be mistaken for a sword, let alone a knife. Hmm… you were at Lang’s previous rounds in the circle, yes?”

“Yes sir.”

“How well do you suppose that Joe would do against Lang?”

“Against Lang… I think you’d need a defensive ability of some sort.”

“Well said. We don’t have anyone like that, though. Perhaps a single scissor can still cut paper, eh?”

The guard was silent for a moment, not entirely understanding what Gabriel was getting at. He defaulted to another “Yes sir” and his superior left him.

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Lang sat facing the cell door folding and unfolding a piece of cloth, immersed in thought.

I haven’t been in here for even a year and they’re already putting me in my fifth match. That’s too fast, something’s wrong.

She unfolded it flat and stood up, beginning to pace about the cell.

Start from the beginning: what does the fifth match mean? The point of the golden circle is to kill the combatants, so by the end of the fifth round every applicant should die. So, if they’re putting me through my fifth round then that must mean they’ve found someone they think can kill me.

The cloth was a square she held at the corner. As she walked, it became rigid and began to fold itself along unseen lines. Guided by her ability, it took on increasingly intricate geometric shapes. She had in mind a turtle before she stopped both walking and folding.

That’s assuming their only goal is to kill me. The other outcome is that a prisoner escapes, so I need to consider that possibility.

The creases in the cloth moved in her hand, the shapes growing and shrinking to fit a different form.

Why would they want me out? If I were organizing the prisoners into some sort of revolt then that would do it, but I’ve mostly kept to myself these past few months. It is possible, though, that they’re afraid I might spread some information. Yes, that would make sense. Then both death and removing me from the dungeon population would be good outcomes for them.

She sat back down. The cloth in her hand was now down to a tightly folded flat diamond. Lang gave it her full attention. Without changing the major folds, the diamond blossomed out as she'd intended.

Just then, her cellmate returned from dinner.

Lang looked up. “Back so soon?”

“I eat fast,” Meona responded. She revealed something wrapped in cloth from under her clothes. As she unwrapped it, it revealed itself to be a loaf of bread which she offered to Lang. “They were running out of food by the time I finished, so I thought I’d bring you something.”

Lang absentmindedly took the bread. “Thanks.” She put down the cloth to eat.

“What’s this?” Meona delicately lifted the intricately folded cloth. “It’s beautiful. A lion, right?”

Mouth full, “mmhm.”

The pure white of the origami lion almost glowed under the dungeon’s torch light. Meona wasn’t looking at it, though. She’d seen many of Lang’s little sculptures, so what would’ve been astounding to a commoner was now commonplace to her. No, right then it was Lang herself that drew her attention. She opened her mouth to say something true, something from the heart, but lost the nerve and looked away.

Lang swallowed a bite of the bread, said “They’ve set my next fight for a few days from now,” and then took another.

“Really? I thought they’d make you wait longer.”

Lang stopped chewing and looked at Meona. Should I tell her why? Well, I don’t really know, my information hazard is just a guess. Maybe I could tell her everything I know about the emperor, his court, the whole disgusting mess that landed me in here. But… if they really think it’s that dangerous, then telling her would just be putting a friend in danger. Lang looked away and took another bite.

Meona sat beside her. “I wish you wouldn’t put yourself in danger like that.”

“I know.”

“What’re you gonna do when you get out?”

Lang looked up at the ceiling to consider the question. “I guess I’ll need a place to stay.”

“I know someone you could talk to about that. What about long term?”

“Hmm… I guess I’ll need to find a patron. Honestly I haven’t thought that much about it.”

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to think while I make my way out.”

“...you’re still planning on going through the circle?” …after all the trouble I’ve caused you?

“Of course I am! The only reason I haven’t been fighting these past few months was so they couldn’t match me against you!”

“Right, right. Say… you’ve followed me in here and you say you'll follow me out. I must confess I don’t understand why you’re so committed.”

Aah! If only you knew! “I’d just like to stay by your side, that’s all.”

Lang looked down at the bread. “Thanks, really,” she repeated.

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David opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. He was in a low bed, which was already more accommodation than his cell had. Turning to one side, he saw a mummy of bandages in the next bed over.

The sight was striking, “damn.”

“Yeah, he was in the match right after you.”

Startled by his cellmate’s voice, David’s head did a 180.

“I saw it when it happened. Both guys had fire abilities: all offense and no defense. Poor bastards burnt each other to crisps. Say, is your neck okay?”

“What? Oh, no, I’m fine. Just turned too fast.”

“Right, ‘cause I knew you got stabbed but that wouldn’t affect the head.”

“Why the hell are you here?”

“Mostly ‘cause I could be. They let you into the infirmary if you know someone and seem harmless.”

David just stared, clearly bewildered.

“Say, your next fight’s in a couple days.”

“What?” David tried to sit up but a pain on his left side reminded him of the blade it’d taken. He sighed.

John shook his head. “Best take it easy, don’t want to give the healers more work.”

“I don’t remember them announcing my previous fights ahead of time.”

“Ah, see this one’s different. The other guy’s on his fifth round.”

“Really?” So they expect me to win? “Have they announced who?”

“I think so. I think the name was Lon… no that’s not it… Lang maybe?”

“The paper folder?”

“That’s the one.”

“I didn’t even know she was in here. Can she even fight? I guess she must if she’s on her last round. Does she use a conduit?”

“Yeah, something called Heaven’s Scroll if I’m remembering right.”

David’s stomach dropped. “that… that’ll do it…”

“I’ve seen her with it too, she’s pretty good. One moment she’s getting charged at and the next the paper’s gotten huge and decapitated a guy. It’s really something to behold. Say, Joe, you look pale.”

“Oh? Uh… I mentioned I was in the emperor’s court once, right? Well, she was pretty well known there. Story goes she turned down the draft and got conscripted as an artisan instead.”

“Neat. Ever seen her work?”

“I wasn’t close enough to the emperor for that,” David lied.

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Sal yawned. He sat beside a door. On the other side was his elevated box seat at the Golden Circle. Waiting to be announced, he sometimes got the feeling of a performer backstage.

Gabriel’s head appeared as he came up the staircase. Once he’d reached the top, he bowed down to his emperor.

“At ease. Who’d you end up setting Lang against?”

The head guard was shocked. Didn’t you tell me who to pick? Is this some sort of test? “Joe, the fighter who bested Roben. I believe I mentioned him the other day.”

“Ah, yes. What was he sentenced for?”

“Theft, sire.”

“Well, let’s hope he can take a life as well!”

“Yes, my king.”

“What’s the matter, Gabriel? You look nervous.”

The guard was about to answer when he was saved by the announcer’s outside voice. “...and gracing us with his presence, I have the pleasure of introducing the man who needs no introduction, the leader of the conquering hoard, the steady hand of the empire…”

“So much fluff,” the emperor muttered.

“...the one, the only, our beloved emperor Sal ben Selan!”

Sal stepped through the door into thunderous applause. He gave a brief courtesy wave at the crowd before taking his seat. Gabriel followed suit.

Another announcement later, he saw Lang appear in the ring. “She looks a bit worse for wear, but good in spite of it. Such a waste that she has to di-”

He froze when the other figure appeared in the ring. In moments, enough emotion had passed that he had room to think. Impossible! My brother was imprisoned in the tower!

Sal turned to Gabriel, whose eyes were fixed on the circle.

“That’s who you chose? How the hell is he even here?”

The fire in his words was searing. Sweat dripped down the side of Gabriel’s face. “My lord, what’s the mat-”

“Silence! I need time to think.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Sal sat back and cleared his mind. Gabriel saw the fogginess of a trance enter his eyes.

The head guard sat back and watched the consequence of his choice unfold. What have I done?

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Neither combatant moved immediately.

David was frozen in place by the knowledge of Heaven’s Scroll. He knew that Lang could manipulate paper, and that her conduit could expand into an arbitrarily large piece of it. The combination of these two could result in deadly and undodgeable attacks, a clear indication of how she’d gotten to her fifth round. Knowing all that, he didn’t have any ideas for a counter.

Lang, on the other hand, was frozen in shock. After a few months surrounded by criminals here she was across a battlefield from royalty. This, of all things, was not something she had anticipated.

Her mind moved from shock to calculation, and then finally to a conclusion: I need more information. She pulled out the scroll and opened it. Under the force of her will the sheet of paper began to expand out toward the invisible wall of the circle. From there, it wrapped its way around until none of the audience was visible.

As the conduit of Lang’s power surrounded him, David steeled himself for battle. She’s gaining a field advantage, so I need to end this before she completes it! He charged forward at her.

When he got close, another strip of paper erupted out toward him. He cut through the first bit of it with an air blade, but was quickly overwhelmed soon after. The paper didn’t cut him, though, it only wrapped around and incapacitated him.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he screamed.

Coldly, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean, David ben Selan! What are you doing here?”

“When my brother stole the throne he opted to let me live.”

“Not in a lowly dungeon, though.”

“Yes, that was my decision.”

A moment of silence passed. Lang weighed the word “stole”. Even isolated like this he didn’t demonstrate any loyalty to Sal, so he probably wasn’t sent to kill her.

David’s mind was elsewhere. Why the hell hasn’t she killed me? A different question, though, passed his lips. “Why block the walls if you’re not going to kill me?”

“Privacy.”

“But the ring walls are soundproof.”

“Prying eyes read lips. I notice you were announced under the name ‘Joe’.”

He chuckled. “You have your privacy, I have mine.”

Lang relaxed. This is someone I can be honest with. She released the paper bindings and sat down. Not seeing a better option, David followed suit.

“These are strange times,” she said.

David nodded.

She folded a simple rose out of the paper conduit. “You know, when I started I just wanted to make beautiful things. I was naïve. In time, the allure of the truth became too powerful. Now I’m here. It turns out truth is just as much naivete as beauty.”

“You have that in common with Sal.”

“Hmm?”

“You both approach your abilities naively.”

The revolting form of necessity took shape in Lang’s mind. I’m sorry old friend, but I cannot be fully honest with you.

“The Golden Circle,” she said, “demands a loser. Whichever one of us leaves, the other must die. I sense you bear animosity toward the emperor.”

“My intent is to kill him, that’s why I’m here.”

“Understandable. I say we arm each other with information so that whoever leaves is more capable of opposing Sal.”

“‘Whoever leaves’ my ass. You know damn well that I can’t beat you.”

“Then could I beat the emperor?”

David thought for a moment and then shook his head. “You’re strong, but his ability is subtle.”

“I know a bit of it. He can see the future, yes?”

“Not quite. It’s more like he can speak into the past. Let’s say you were to fight him. Is there anything he could say to incapacitate you?”

“Nothing… that he would know-”

“Doesn’t matter. When he speaks into the past, he can say something that he remembered his future self saying. If there’s anything he could possibly say or do to defeat you then he’ll know it and put it into action.”

Would he know to threaten Meona? “I can’t say I fully understand. You intend to go up against something like that?”

“I have a plan.”

“Hmm… well I’ll hold up my end of the trade as well. You’re aware Sal’s head guard won’t let you near him, right?”

“I’m not familiar with him, I believe he was instated after my imprisonment.”

“Well, you’ve told me of the emperor so I’ll tell you of his guard. The man’s name is Gabriel and his ability is fierce. With a touch of his hand he can make any substance flow like water. It’s effective without a conduit and it’s devastating in close combat.”

Again, David chuckled. “I’m surprised you held up your bargain when you know full well that I won’t be leaving here.”

Lang stood up. “Not all things are so simple.”

The paper of the scroll expanded again, only this time it went under her feet. David’s eyes grew wide as he realized what she was doing.

The paper stopped rising a long way above him. Lang layed down on it and thought.

Am I sure about this?

A thin cloud wafted through the sky above her.

I don’t need to die. I could escape and live a peaceful naïve life folding paper for some noble patron. And maybe Meona will make it out to meet me.

She retracted the paper from the ring’s walls.

But then again, I’m not sure I could live the grave naivete of beauty. And if I slipped and the truth came out again… Even if Meona made it out I’d just be putting her in danger. Whatever trouble I get myself into, she’ll follow.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

The emperor is the source of all that. The only way I can keep my one friend safe is to neutralize him. David, I’m counting on you for that.

The paper below her curled into stiff spikes.

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When Sal returned to awareness Lang had fallen to her death. He looked to his side and saw that Gabriel had noticed the end of the trance.

He knows not what he’s done. “This was an accident then,” the emperor said.

“Yes sire. My deepest apologies. I know not what I’ve done.”

David will escape and I will have to kill my brother. “That fighter down there is my brother David. He will defeat the circle by the end of the month and challenge me.”

“You… your highness will surely win!”

“I will survive.” But you won’t! Sal turned away to hide the tears of prophecy.

“My king… This is all my doing. I brought this fate down upon-”

“Silence! You wish to serve me, yes?”

“I do, but I am not worth-”

“Then serve me until the end. That is all I ask.”

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David drifted through the rest of the day in a stupor. First he was teleported out of the ring and the hilt was taken. Then he was taken back to his cell. John was there, but the two didn’t exchange words. Finally the call for dinner came and he drifted to the mess hall.

The food was some sort of stew and some bread, presumably the leftovers from the city’s less frugal. A long line formed, enforced by the guards. One moment David was in it and another he was sitting on the floor, isolated because nobody dared approach the mad Stiletto Joe.

He ate slowly, looking contemplative. He wasn’t thinking, though, he lacked the energy. He had been so ready to die and… death had come.

The ground was cold stone. The bread was stale. The stew tasted like nothing.

He felt hands around his neck, squeezing. He closed his eyes, not even moving to stop them.

A hand pushed his back and his neck was freed. A familiar voice said, “That's enough!”

John stood between him and an unfamiliar woman. It seemed she was the choker and he the pusher.

“He killed Lang!” she screamed.

“She entered the ring knowing the possibilities,” John said. “And as it happens, I saw it unfold. Lang killed herself.”

“Impossible! She would never!” We had plans!

“She did, and if you acted a bit more civil, maybe Joe could tell you why.” John looked at David unsurely.

David just shrugged.

“I’ll kill you, you bastard!”

She lunged forward, but John blocked her.

A thought entered David’s mind. Why is he protecting me?

He stood up. “Stand aside, John.”

“No can do. Nobody’s gonna die over dinner today.”

The woman glared daggers into him. “Why do you care?”

“Well, he’s my cellmate for one.”

This seemed to stop her. The fire left her eyes. I never got to tell her… A tear slid down her cheek. Without another word, she turned and left them.

All of this was seen by the prying eyes of the guards.

David and John sat down and finished their food.

“Do you really care that much that we’re cellmates?”

“Not really. But it seems to’ve cooled things down.”

“For now,” David said.

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Yet again, David returned to the ring.

“Same weapon as usual?” asked a guard.

“Yes, the Soldier’s Hilt. Can I ask who I’m up against this time?”

“Hmm…” the guard checked a piece of paper. “Looks like a first rounder called Meona. Name mean anything to you?”

“No. Do you know what she’s in for?”

“Evading arrest.”

“...does it say what the arrest was for?”

“Umm…” he looked closer. “Ah, I was wrong. It was for aiding an evasion of arrest. Oh, I know who this is! She’s the assassin who killed like five guys trying to protect Lang. If you were a guard you would’ve heard all about her.”

David said nothing. He took the hilt and went into the dark room to wait for the fight.

The wait wasn’t long.

“...returning yet again, we have none other than ‘Stiletto’ Joe! Or should I say David ben Selan! That’s right ladies and gentlemen, the madman who’s been slicing through the Golden Circle is none other than the prince and brother of our glorious emperor!”

So much for my privacy.

“And, folks, rest assured he’s up against no slouch. Here for her first round to avenge her cellmate Lang-” The announcer stopped for a moment when the crowd became too loud. “I love the enthusiasm! Here for revenge we have ‘Moody Blues’ Meona!”

Sure enough, the one who appeared across from David was the one who had attacked him in the mess hall.

“It’s a fight to remember folks! Can Meona defeat prince David? These two have entered and only one will leave! Everybody, it’s time… TO FIGHT!”

David would’ve charged forward had he not seen the conduit beside Meona. It was a full sized mannequin, a bit taller than she was, with the color of a dull gray clay. The mannequin was called the Hidden Agent. It could mimic anyone’s appearance down to the clothes they wear and the items they carry. After it was invented many came to fear death at the hands of an assassin’s puppet. Aside from death, the legacy of the mannequin was a custom of exchanging loud greetings so that the puppet, unable to mimic voice, could not slip into known ranks.

Meona was impressed they even had one. Being a conduit not just anyone could use it, but it was still strange that a dungeon would hand it out to a prisoner.

I don’t know how you killed Lang, but I know how I’ll kill you.

She put a hand on its shoulder. The agent changed shape. To David’s surprise, though, it didn’t change much. One hand took on human features and held out a sword, but that was it.

With honor!

Meona took the sword and charged toward David. He took a firm stance to meet her. A thin blade came in for a side slash. An air blade blocked and deflected it. David stabbed forward but Meona parried it and forced him to take a step back.

She’s good, he thought, but her approach is flawed.

He took another step back and waited. Meona stabbed forward and David dodged to the side. Before she had time to react, he deactivated the hilt and then reactivated it into the middle of her blade. He held up the air blade, now with a cross section of metal through it.

“Slint made that same mistake,” he said. “The Soldier’s Hilt is not a sword.”

Meona doubled back toward the mannequin and David chased after her. He dipped the hilt into the ground and pulled a stone blade, flinging it as he ran. She put a hand on the agent’s shoulder and turned to face him.

“Two can play that game!”

The mannequin changed shape again. Meona took a new sword from its hand and threw it at David. He ran to the side to dodge it. Another sword appeared, and this time the mannequin threw it. David deflected it and tossed a stone blade in response. The mannequin moved forward to block the projectile.

If he keeps fighting like this… fine. You’ve forced my hand.

The mannequin charged forward, stone blade still sticking out of its abdomen. Just like Meona had, it slashed at his side. David ducked under the blade and activated the hilt into the conduit. The blade he pulled from it was gray all the way through, and the mannequin was unfazed. It chopped from above and he blocked with a chunk of its body.

He rolled to the side and its blade struck the ground dumbly.

Right, it’s only a conduit. David wiped some sweat off his forehead.

Meona wasn’t far behind, though. David scrambled away before he looked back at what she was doing. Two Meonas stood side by side, each with a hand on the other’s shoulder. The full power of the Hidden Agent was now on display. Both pairs of eyes snapped toward him, both bodies bolted forward.

What the hell, they gave her a fighting partner!

He ran to make distance and then turned to face them. The one on the right tapped the other’s shoulder and the two split up.

That one’s the real one!

David closed in on his target and locked blades. Attacks were made and blocked, but the enemy’s sword didn’t last. He pulled a blade from his opponent and then fled when he heard footsteps from behind.

Looking down at his blade, it was gray instead of red. He spun around just in time to block the real Meona’s blade. He released the blade out of habit, but didn’t consider its makeup. The gray material cut into his hand as it fell.

He jumped backward, “You’re a trickster!”

She stabbed forward, “You’re a murderer!”

He ran. As time passed and blood dropped onto the ground, the wound in his hand became more painful.

When he neared the wall, he turned around. Again, Meona and the doppelganger were pursuing him. This time there was no brief tap before the two split up.

“I didn’t kill Lang.”

“Liar!”

Found you. He ran at the one that spoke.

Blades clashed. “She suggested we arm each other with information so that the survivor could better contend with the emperor. After we did, she ended her own life.”

“Contend with the emperor? Lies! She had no such ambition.”

“Would she have told you?”

Meona’s eyes widened and her attacks became unfocused.

David heard footsteps behind him. Taking the opportunity, he kicked her to the ground.

“For Lang’s memory,” he said “I am sorry!”

Behind him the conduit raised its sword for a downward blow. Before it moved, David leaped over Meona. The mindless mimic stabbed its original.

Meona was dead.

David turned around toward the aftermath. The agent was frozen with a blank expression, sword plunged into its user.

Four people were dead.

David stepped toward the puppet. He put a hand on its shoulder. If I transformed this, could I see those people again? Try as he may, he couldn’t manage to control this conduit.

Four dead for what?

David knelt beside Meona. Is my revenge so much nobler than yours? He closed her eyes and waited. In moments he was teleported. All was dark.