When Zalan’s vision returned, he blinked in surprise to see Umdarr standing over him outside of the arena.

“What are you doing here?” Zalan asked, looking up. It was beautiful in the sky beyond the canyon where the arena took place. It looked like freedom. He would soon be free.

“Dimak requested that you join him on stage when Madam Hikma was to present his prize,” Umdarr replied.

“You sure he wasn’t joking? Everything hurts, Umdarr.”

“I assure you he is serious.”

“Everything hurts,” Zalan grumbled again.

Umdarr reached a hand out to Zalan. He stared at it for a moment, wondering whether it was really worth standing again. Umdarr waved his hand impatiently. Zalan reluctantly accepted it, using the arm with the unbroken shoulder. Umdarr pulled him up, using a blast of air to make Zalan feel like he floated effortlessly to his feet.

“That was some fight you two put on. A very different fight than your previous two,” Umdarr said, a hint of judgment in his voice.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about those,” Zalan said.

“Do not apologize to me, but to them,” Umdarr corrected.

“I just hope I didn’t make any precedent or something like that.”

“Precedence is established by winners. You are a loser, so there is nothing to be learned from you. Future fighters will study Dimak. I am sure they will be baffled by the final bout,” Umdarr explained.

Zalan put most of his weight against Umdarr in order to be able to move forward. Umdarr didn’t seem to mind. Kashir and Brashir were assisting Dimak to his feet back in the arena. The five of them slowly converged in the center of the arena, all of them regarding each other with nods. With some pain, Zalan raised his head and saw his mother smiling down at him.

He blinked in shock, then his vision corrected and he saw that it was Madam Hikma instead. She was standing and applauding Dimak and Zalan, slowly making her way down the stadium stairs. Zalan kept his eyes on her, hoping that the image would change back to that of his mother. His eyes strained, but nothing happened. He saw nothing but the gracious gaze of Madam Hikma cast down on him and Dimak. Even at that, he couldn’t help but smile.

Audience members had swarmed the arena and tried to approach Zalan and Dimak as fans, but Kashir and Brashir loudly shouted the audience members away. Umdarr would have joined them, but after having been an announcer for the entire tournament, a parasocial bond had been formed and people would believe he was only joking. Instead, Umdarr assisted by casting air beneath Zalan and Dimak to keep them standing. To stand after the finals was a good way to preserve their dignity after the slap fight they had just completed. Zalan looked up at Umdarr in mild shock as a thought came to mind.

“Your real name wouldn’t happen to be Morloch, would it?” Zalan asked.

“No, who is that?”

“Do you know anyone named Morloch?”

“If I knew, then I would not be asking who that is,” Umdarr said. He sounded only mildly sarcastic. He was in a good mood after the final fight. It was a good tournament and he had much to be proud of in organizing it in the middle of the desert canyon this year. Not even a Basilisk was enough to postpone them significantly.

Zalan shook the name out of his head. He couldn’t go accusing everyone he saw of being some manipulative man from the sky. He would have to find more evidence before determining who he was for certain. But he wouldn’t know what to do if he met Morloch. Should he accuse him of all the things he did to Yelsa? Should he try and take revenge for Yelsa’s sake? Or should he run away because the man is supposedly powerful and manipulative?

Madam Hikma had reached the arena, the genuine smile on her face bringing warmth into Zalan’s heart and energy to his limbs. The audience that clambored to speak with the winners backed off in deference. They made their way to the stadium grounds or edges of the arena, giving the competitors and organizers a wide berth. Madam Hikma opened her palms to invite the winners to sit down and rest after such an incredible battle. Dimak and Zalan gladly accepted the invitation to take weight off their legs and groaned as they sat.

“Dimak. It is an honor for me to be able to present to you the Reversal Stone and prize of ten gold coins,” Madam Hikma announced to him.

Zalan was surprised by how well he could hear her. The audience around her had quieted down out of respect, allowing her words to carry much farther. They were almost silent, as though listening to her give a profound lecture.

Madam Hikma pulled a bag with golden coins and a shining blue stone. She placed them in Dimak’s lap. He sighed in relief, hardly able to believe that he made it this far. He smiled widely, the reality of the situation finally dawning on him. He succeeded in winning the Elemental Rage Tournament. Not many people could claim to have done that. He reached into his bag of winnings.

“This is yours,” Dimak plucked the shining Artifact from the bag and held it out to Zalan.

“What? No, I didn’t win anything. I wasn’t trying to buy it off of you,” Zalan said.

“You did not win this. It is mine to do with as I please. And I wish to present it as a gift for a friend,” Dimak said serenely.

Zalan stared in shock. He looked up at Dimak in amazement, feeling unworthy.

“I don’t think I deserve it,” Zalan replied, embarrassed as Madam Hikma, Umdarr, and others stared at him.

“Gifts are never intended to be given to those that are deserving. They are expressions of gratitude from the gift giver,” Dimak said sagely. Madam Hikma nodded in approval.

“But I haven’t even given you the—”

“Zalan,” Dimak said, impatience creeping in his voice. “It hurts to hold out my hand like this. Please take the rock.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Finally, Zalan accepted the Artifact. The Reversal Stone was smooth, like it was expertly polished. It was also cold, and felt heavy despite it being smaller than his fist. The rock wasn’t actually heavy, but the potential to turn back time a few minutes felt infinitely compelling. He wouldn’t take the gift lightly.

“Thank you,” he said, then looked to Madam Hikma. “How do I use it?”

“The Reversal Stone activates when squeezed three times in succession. When it begins to glow, hold it up against the object you wish to reverse time on. It turns back no more than fifteen minutes. But it also depends on the thing you wish to reverse time on. A castle, you may only be able to reverse a few seconds. A sword you broke, you should be able to do the full fifteen minutes,” Madam Hikma explained.

“What about a human?” Zalan asked.

Madam Hikma smiled warmly, looking sympathetic, as if she knew his implication.

“It cannot affect neither a human nor a monster,” she said.

“Right. Thanks,” Zalan said, feeling slightly disappointed. He was wondering if he could bring someone back from the dead if he witnessed them die. He tucked the stone in his pocket.

Dimak nodded to his new friend, glad to see him accept the Artifact. Then turned back to Madam Hikma.

“I came to you bearing questions, but I seem to have received answers in battle,” Dimak said, sounding embarrassed that he was wasting her time.

“That is no surprise. The mind is so open when in combat, ready to react to both new attacks as well as new information. You were wise enough to find your own answers, and for that you should be proud,” Madam Hikma said.

Dimak beamed like a child.

“Zalan, dear. I was surprised to see you enter the tournament,” Madam Hikma said to Zalan. “In truth, I was a little confused and thought you had a doppelganger that had entered because they kept saying your name incorrectly.”

Umdarr scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat nervously, but said nothing.

“Yeah, I came here to talk to you, actually,” Zalan said.

“I take it you were unable to find the Homeseeker, then. Otherwise, I assume you would already be home,” Madam Hikma said.

A genuine feeling of self-loathing flared up in Zalan’s heart. He spent so much time on the assumption that Madam Hikma played him like a fool when she actually made a genuine mistake. His own guesses drove him mad. Madam Hikma had been nothing but sincere with him.

“No, actually, I did find it,” Zalan replied. “It just didn’t take me back home. Only to Journey House back in Oriton.”

Madam Hikma looked appalled, her eyes widening. It was an expression that Zalan never expected to see on her face. She was horrified.

“Oh dear! I sent you down the wrong path! I am so sorry! I should be ashamed of myself!” she said rapidly.

Again, a wave of disgust in himself crashed into Zalan’s heart. She felt remorse. Of course none of his past experiences were her fault. She was genuinely trying to help him and sent him down a wrong course. He brought it on, too. She initially offered him different advice, but he insisted that he wanted an easier way. A less reliable way.

“It’s fine,” Zalan said. “It’s not your fault.”

“I cannot help but believe that it was. Would you have gone in pursuit of the Artifact were it not for my recommendation?” Madam Hikma asked.

“Well… no,” Zalan admitted.

“I hope you are not angry with me”, Madam Hikma said with utmost sincerity.

Zalan scoffed to himself. The events of the past few days flashed before him like a reel of film. The way he thought of her and planned evil things. The outbursts of energy that deeply scarred his opponents, like Rexler and Slauson. He shook his head to himself out of embarrassment. He hoped to be past all of that for good.

“Angry? No, I’m not angry at all”, Zalan said confidently.

“Does it hurt to use it?” Madam Hikma asked. “The Homeseeker, I mean.”

“Hurt to use?” Zalan repeated, confused. “No it just… I don’t know, it just works. You warp back home. You hardly feel it. Why?”

“If I can avoid having to take the trip back from the canyon I would appreciate being able to use the Homeseeker. It would save me many days of travel. Again, if you do not mind.”

“Oh, you want a ride? Sure, let me just handle a few things and I’ll be ready to go. We won’t leave without you,” Zalan said.

Madam Hikma nodded, full of gratitude for his offer. Zalan felt good to be a reason for her to smile. It was like a form of retribution after putting her in such a dark light in his mind for so long. Zalan felt the Reversal Stone in his pocket and looked to Dimak.

“Thanks again for this. I’ll go get the money right now.”

“You have more than earned the prize. I will await your return with patience.”

Zalan nodded to him then stood up sharply to get moving. Every muscle in Zalan’s body screamed in protest and he lost balance falling backward. Umdarr quickly caught him. Zalan looked at him with a request in his eyes.

“Let me guess, you want me to carry you down?” Umdarr asked.

“Unless you want the whole audience watching a finalist drag himself down out of the arena. Pathetically. When others were there to help him.”

“Are you threatening me by saying you will otherwise embarrass yourself?”

Zalan stared at him without reply. He tried to keep his face composed and challenging. But the constant pain in him caused him to grimace as he stared into Umdarr’s eyes. At best, he looked constipated.

“Dear God,” Umdarr sighed, sounding disgusted and defeated. “Fine, I will carry you.”

Zalan smiled in appreciation as he placed his arm over Umdarr’s shoulders. Umdarr again carried Zalan across the arena, keeping the audience at bay by giving them sharp dirty looks. Zalan could barely keep his eyes open. He spent his time trying to ignore the pain that clamored for his attention. After a full minute of straining and whining to himself, Zalan was being helped up the stairs of the surrounding arena. At last, Umdarr stopped in front of Rep, Nold and Slauson.

“Congratulations,” Rep said as soon as Zalan opened his eyes.

“You are congratulating the loser?” Slauson asked.

“I am congratulating him on the contents of the battle, not the result. It was an excellent fight,” Rep replied.

“Excellent? That was one of the worst finals I have ever witnessed. They slapped each other lightly and cried like babies. But somehow I was totally engrossed. It was one of the most engaging finals I have ever witnessed,” Slauson said, sounding confused with himself.

“Did you speak with Madam Hikma?” Nold asked eagerly.

“Yeah. I need my gold. Give thirty coins.”

“Your first quest requires you to pay her in gold?” Nold asked, both annoyed and confused.

“Or is it that you must pay thirty gold coins to speak to her when she is outside Oriton?” Rep asked.

“No, they’re for Dimak.”

Umdarr suddenly let go of Zalan. He fell harshly to the floor. Groaning and raising his head, he looked up at Umdarr.

“What was that for?”

Umdarr stared at him with consternation. Zalan looked confused, then looked to his companions who looked equally confused. He turned back to Umdarr, waiting for an explanation.

“Why are you paying Dimak for anything?” Umdarr asked, an accusation clear in his tone.

“Really? You dropped me just to ask a question? That hurt!”

“Answer me.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Zalan, that is a small fortune,” Rep said, trying to sound reasonable.

“A large fortune,” Umdarr corrected curtly.

“Yeah I… are you accusing me of bribing him? Why would I pay him for me to lose?”

“You tell me,” Umdarr said. “Explain to me in full detail, this transaction. Otherwise I will have to announce to the audience that you and Dimak rigged the competition.”