“You can do it Illdan!” A young woman held her hands to her mouth as she screamed while next to her, a burly Tellus warrior frothed at the mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Crush them! For glory! For Tellus!”

Apparently, no one else saw the painfully juxtaposed composition of the cheering section but Illdan. He pushed that fact out of his mind and turned to his third match, the sting of the second’s failure still hanging in his mind. He did his best to push all those dangerous stresses away and sank into those deep impressions that Illdan had stumbled across in the ruins where the Second Calamity had finally ended on Tellus.

Behind him, a shadowy form stirred.

The judge rolled the dice and the middle distance was selected. The two competitors took their place, Illdan opposite an older woman with flinty eyes. He sucked in a breath and held it deep in his chest. The images that his grandfather recommended he hold in reserve for the tournament itself stretched and seeped out of his skin. There was no point in hiding his potential here, not when there were others going wild and improving.

Not when he needed to make sure he could control this image in actual battle.

Illdan suspected that even if he hadn’t lost in such an anticlimactic way, he would have struggled against the girl with bright blue eyes. But it was the wake-up call that he needed. From now on, no more leaving anything to chance. He released the long-held breath and felt the tension leave his body.

Smoke escaped his lips and the amorphous figure of a phantom flexed its hands behind him.

Illdan’s opponent deployed a hundred illusions, beguiling him while striking at Illdan from the side with long range Skills. However, while visions might be convincing, breath didn’t lie. Illdan eventually followed the trace of his opponent’s breath and landed a sharp thrust into the woman’s thigh. Blood bloomed, seemingly from nowhere. Soon the haggard form of the woman followed, raising her hands and conceding.

The cheering section erupted with his victory, as though it completely redeemed him in their eyes. A single victory was enough for the people of Expira to forget his prior match.

As he hopped off the arena, a young girl leaned against the edge of the stands and looked dreamily at him. “Those cheekbones…”

His senses still burning from the strange Skill he had uncovered in the ruins, Illdan went back to the preparation area as fast as he could. And of course, Daemont was there waiting for him amongst a group of Tellus warriors, a sour expression on his face. A single victory, in his mind, just paused his continuing reprimand. “I believe we agreed that you would hide your greatest weapons until the actual tournament. Especially after a loss, now is not the time for hubris-”

“Daemont,” Illdan growled, his edges still sharp from the battle. Plus, he had dealt with enough. This nagging did not help him. “I appreciate your council. But I am the reborn Spearman. And this is my decision. The combat experience will be useful. Don’t question me again.”

Daemont pursed his lips but simply nodded. Illdan reflected that there were some benefits to the strange fabrication his grandfather wove. But as he turned away, his eyes caught on Clayvo’s frustrated expression as his father looked at the ground. Illdan’s breath caught, but he kept turning. He walked away, heading to get some food.

There were also complications to having power. Nothing was ever easy.

Illdan fought four more matches that day, each finishing faster than the last. As he had observed when he first arrived, most of the applicants didn’t have any serious chance of grasping victory. They participated to improve themselves and make the process more onerous for those with true talent. But he took each fight seriously, releasing his signature image and familiarizing himself with it.

One more event of note happened on the first day. A particular human had beaten one of the weaker members of Tellus in a close match earlier in the day. When one of the more powerful Tellus fighters faced that individual next, they had ignored the gasped surrender and unleashed one last thrust. Not to kill, but to maim and inflict pain for the dishonor suffered by the other Tellite. Low and with the spearhead vertical into the side of the ribs.

Aiming to crunch and puncture.

However, before that thrust could be completed, the powerful fist of the official slammed into the warrior's stomach. Blood spurted out of his mouth as he rolled across the stage. Just when the offender had attempted to push himself up, the official, smoke oozing out of his eyes, stomped his face into the stage with enough oomph to crack the reinforced stone.

Immediately, all of the warriors of Tellus were on their feet, pulling out their weapons and glaring at the stage.

“Yes?” The official’s eyes swept across the suddenly bristling contingent. Its enormous mount beat its wings, rising slightly off the ground and shrieking at them all. A whole host of shrieking damned seemed to populate the air behind it.

“You go too far,” Daemont said stiffly. But Illdan had even then noticed how white his knuckles were, wrapped around his spear shaft.

The official shrugged and removed his foot. “You aren’t idiots. You saw what he attempted to do. If he was not punished for that, wouldn’t that just encourage such behavior? No matter who you are, you aren’t above the rules.”

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Illdan felt the tension rising as the offender pushed himself up again and began coughing, blood oozing from his mouth, but a voice cut across everything. “Well, let’s just leave this here. It appears the situation is settled.”

Instantly, half of the Tellus warriors straightened, their tension gone. The others, all young, glanced uneasily around and followed suit. Illdan looked around to see who had spoken and found an older woman he didn’t recognize amongst the Tellus fighters. Her skin had a purple tint and there were two men standing on either side of her, also who he didn’t recognize.

With the tension gone, the trio turned and walked away.

How could I not recognize one of the hundred representatives? We all participated in the tournament… Bewildered, Illdan hurried after them. He rounded a corner of the arena but the trio had vanished.

Illdan searched around a little longer, but he eventually gave up. Instead, he climbed onto of the nearby cliffs and sat meditating above the sea. The crash of waves against the stone beneath him and filled the air with the rich smell of salt. Illdan closed his eyes, feeling the breath of even the ocean.

Then pressure began to pour across Illdan’s shoulders. The young man stiffened. Because as he was breathing, he felt a gaze fix on his back. He felt senses slip amongst his skin and rake its way through the inner workings of the powerful Skill he had obtained from the ruins, like the tenant slipping a key and opening up an entire apartment.

Horrified, Illdan’s attention groped out to figure out what was happening. He couldn’t move; that pressure pinned him in place. His insides were opened up and the unnatural arrangement froze him. He eventually found the source: a strange figure with brilliant emerald lanterns for eyes and a swirling abyss for a mouth. That mouth ‘breathed’, sucking life and emotion and Aether and Nether from the world and then breathed out in a chaotic and mutated regurgitation of the same.

That figure walked at the center of a maelstrom, a constant surge of motion that had rubbed away its features with the constant froth and hum of its power. Illdan began to tremble as he sensed the extent of this figure. Power had robbed this being of all existence and personality, leaving only natural force and the instincts of a predator.

Strangely, the frightful specter smiled at Illdan. Yet the strange amusement in it only made Illdan struggle more violently against the suppression. The muscles of his arms and legs bulged as he attempted to move, but he couldn’t-

The pressure was gone and Illdan exploded up in a twisting spring. He found himself face to face with a familiar blonde girl with massive glasses, who appeared to have been tiptoeing up behind him. But Illdan’s sudden motion made her gorgeous blue eyes go wide.

“Eeep!” She sprung back, hands crossed in front of her face to protect herself. Inexplicably, she shut her eyes and flinched before his sudden motion.

“I-” Illdan swayed, still with the lingering feeling of that empty emerald gaze on his images. Suddenly, the whole thing seemed imagined, impossible. After all, how could some outside force just slip into his image like that? Then Illdan paused again, struck by the incongruity of the foe who bested him closing her eyes in the face of some surprise attack.

For a few strained moments, they just watched each other.

Almost at the same time, both settled into more normal posture. Illdan loosened his aggressive stance and the girl straightened and adjusted her glasses with her thumb. She smiled awkwardly at him. “I suppose that’s what I get for trying to catch you by surprise. You looked so serious after our match. I just thought I could…”

“Is that why you are here,” Illdan felt a flush creeping into his cheeks the longer he looked at the girl. Anger seemed easier than thinking about why she agitated him so. He sounded like the worst of Tellus’ harsh older generation, but he couldn’t stop the words from passing through his lips. “To trash talk your defeated opponent?”

“Oh, of course not! I want to encourage you.” The girl reached out and tentatively patted Illdan’s shoulder. She used her palm and kept her fingers extended, making the display extra wooden. She cleared her throat and hurriedly continued. “I’m… umm, well, relatively strong. And I’ve seen you defeat so many other opponents. So vigorous! I saw you brooding up here and just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m not brooding,” Illdan lifted his chin.

The girl waved her hands frantically in front of her face. “No, of course you are not! This is a good place for some private thoughts. The smell of dead fish and the chilly wind and all that. Very nice and secluded.”

There was another awkward pause. The two looked at anything but each other. Illdan wondered what Daemont would say if he stomped up the slope to the cliffs and saw the two of them standing opposite one another. Would the old man sneak attack the girl from behind? How well would she respond?

How strong was she?

“So,” the girl said, reaching up and twirling a strand of her hair through her fingers.

Illdan was bewildered and nervous. “Was there something else?”

“Oh. Oh, I guess not. I’m disturbing you, aren’t I? Jeez, I’m so sorry. I’ll give you more time alone.” The girl wiped her hands on her pants and then offered the same palm she had patted him with earlier. “I’m Beatrice. Let’s… let’s meet again in the final tournament, yes? Our first fight wasn’t really fair.”

Illdan nodded slowly and reached out to touch Beatrice’s hand. It was very, very warm. And vaguely damp. Illdan couldn’t help but wonder how damp it had been before she had rubbed it on her pants. “Yes. I would like the chance to redeem myself in your eyes. It was a shameful display.”

Beatrice blushed. They were still holding hands. “You weren’t shameful at all! Even falling onto the ground, you looked very cool.”

“My face was covered in dirt,” Illdan’s lips twitched. “But… I appreciate it. And I am glad that I came to the tournament. The quality of foes here is much higher than I anticipated.”

“Yea, you Spear-world people are pretty full of yourselves, aren’t ya?” The girl grinned and then winked. She blushed and her smile was fragile afterward, but she didn’t break eye contact will Illdan. “You shouldn’t underestimate other people. Who knows when you might meet someone who might change your life?”

“Or end it,” Illdan said solemnly, glad to be back on ground he understood.

Beatrice just looked at him for several seconds. “Oh. Well, that’s possible too. Um, I’m going. Have a good day. Well, night.”

She sprinted down the hill away from him. Illdan raised his still slightly damp palm and rubbed it against his chest. Expira certainly housed some interesting characters.