Joy could feel the tension in the air. Or maybe that was someone with a wind-based gift trying to shake up the competition before it even started.

Joy had never felt that preparation helped him. He was a creature of chance and fortune, not one of meticulous strategy and forethought. So, he had spent the days leading up to the Knight Tournament playing games with anyone who would spare the time.

There was something so revealing about the way that others played games. The prince was meticulous and cunning, while Theo was calculating and naïve. Lillian was fire and passion, while Sam was thousands of steps ahead of Joy.

Sam was the only person that gave Joy a real run for his money, but he never let it get to him because that was the nature of games. If his victory was always assured, why would he be playing?

Nonetheless he was here now, preparing himself for the big stage. He had never thought of himself as a fighter, nor did he think of himself as some paragon of justice and peace. So, he wasn’t quite sure how he had ended up in a massive tournament for the title of biggest buffest dude in the shiniest armor. But Fate was quite strange like that.

There were many knights around the Hearted Continent, and they had been sauntering into the city for the past couple of days.

They all entered with the panache and posturing that all big, bad boys in suits of shining armor brought with them. They picked fights with each other and dispensed “justice” to anyone who looked at them funny. Joy had even talked with some of his friends in the justice department and they had mentioned that there had been a noticeable uptick in brawls in the city since the tournament contestants started showing up.

All these men and women had showed up in massive suits of armor that showed their feats and their benefactors. Joy had heard that there was a special artisan named Ronaldo that made them and that someone wasn’t even considered to be a real knight unless they had commissioned armor from Ronaldo.

Joy felt very out of place in this tournament. His competitors stood all around him covered in their shiny armor, flexing their “justice” dispensing muscles. Theo and Lillian had told him that without the armor he would be at a disadvantage and that everyone would be judging him from the get-go as a fake knight.

Instead of the armor Joy stood in the arena in a very plain outfit. He wore a leather jacket along with some black pants. Inside his jacket he wore a velvet shirt to create some flashes of color. And to top it all off, he had a tiny little hat on. It was a fedora-like hat, but absolutely tiny.

The arena was filled to the brim with an energy unlike anything that Joy had ever seen before. It was a cesspool of competitiveness and bravado. He felt right at home, his own pride and ambition swelling to the top of his soul as he let out a small whoop, drawing a few eyes to him.

There were far too many competitors than anyone cared about. There were quite a few knights all throughout the land and not all of them were worth the time and gold needed to come see the matches.

Joy had wondered how they were going to cut the chaff from the competition, and he had been so excited when he learned there was going to be a giant free-for all.

There were four free-for-alls being held at the same time in different arenas. The rules were lazy and simple: the last eight people standing in each of the arenas would make it to the main stage.

Joy was happy to not be in the same arena as Lillian and Theo, only the weak looking people were trying to make alliances to make it through these preliminary rounds. He was also glad that he did not have any sort of reputation.

There were some knights that everyone was eyeing, hoping against Hope that if they teamed up in these free-for-alls that they could take down these tough competitors.

One of Joy’s favorites was the man known as the Shovel Knight. A man who had the gift to create massive shovels and use them to smite his enemies. He wore a helmet, and no one had ever gotten a look inside of it. The man behind the myth was a mystery.

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

But most importantly, there was Ryan the Slayer. Joy worried that whoever had named the man suffered from a serious case of ‘forgetting the noun at the end of that sentence’ but instead the person merely suffered from a critical lack of imagination. The man was a behemoth that stood nearly two heads above Joy. His skin was a rich brown that matched the hair that ran down his back almost all the way to the ground.

Legends said that he had decided when he was five years of age that he would only cut his hair if he ever lost in combat.

He had never cut his hair.

Ryan was one of the favorites for this year’s competition, an almost assured win. He had the physique of a man gifted by Strength which supplemented his less brawny gift. He was able to store anything in his mouth. Hoarder usually gave odd gifts, and this one was no exception.

The man had come to be known for his slaying because he would store fire in his mouth and shoot flames like a dragon of legend. He was also known to store pressurized water and use that to cut his foes in half. It was more tactical but less flashy, so he tried to save that one for when he was struggling.

Many eyes were glancing over at the imposing man, but he was merely sitting in the middle of the arena with his eyes closed, as if meditating on his assured victory.

Joy was similarly drawn to the man, his physique was absolutely incredible, and Joy would love to study him in more detail. It was so rare to see a truly powerful human being who had not been blessed by the gods. Instead, Ryan had been blessed with a different kind of luck. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes too.

Joy was envious of the man’s flowing locks and strong back. But he had made the choice to be lithe rather than bulky and he would live with it.

This arena was the third round of qualifiers, Lillian and Theo had been in the first round together and pushed each other to the finish line. Joy was here alone, standing in a field of sand.

A deep unnatural silence filled the arena and someone familiar walked in the center of the field. A man that Joy recognized from his time in the Frozen Continent walked onto the stage.

Wes had a gift that allowed him to silence the world around him and he had used it to force the rowdy knights to shut up for a moment.

“This is the third one of the day, and I am already bored, so let’s keep it short.” Wes began.

At Wes’ word Ryan’s eyes suddenly opened and he stared with rapt attention.

Joy thought it was a little silly that Wes had a day job and wasn’t one of the prince’s “guys”, but he listened, nonetheless.

"Don’t kill each other. We have the best healers in the entire continent here. They will be able to patch you up through any damage short of death. So, there’s one simple rule you must remember. Don’t kill each other.” There was a subdued feeling that enveloped the crowd at his words.

Of course, the contestants knew the rules walking in, but there was something primal about hearing the fact their lives would be on a razor’s edge. Maybe they could be saved, but it was all about the goodwill of their fellow knights.

Many “accidents” could happen here, and everyone was feeling particularly aware of past grudges they had accrued.

To finish off the speech Wes said, “When I hit the bell; it begins. May Fortune favor you.” Joy didn’t take Wes for a religious man when he had met him on the Frozen Continent, but who was Joy to judge?

The time seemed to stretch on forever as everyone took a moment to recenter themselves.

Some took this time to get in a good stretch, while others recited poetry in hopes of motivating themselves. Other people quietly activated their gifts in hopes of gaining the upper hand when the battle truly started.

Joy bent down and grabbed a handful of sand. He let it slowly drift out of his fingers as he felt his sense of self recenter.

He had been off balance after being mugged by Franny and he had not gotten his feet back under him. His games with the prince were uncharacteristically cruel hearted and lacking the mirth he usually found in himself.

But he was not some brooding loner, he was not some weak man who broke after failing. He was Joy, the man who existed with a smile. He was Joy, the man who waltzed when he should walk. He was Joy, the man with silly outfits and sillier words.

And maybe, he had forgotten that for a moment.

A single ring filled the arena and the world shifted from its beautiful untouched state, to one of chaos in a matter of moments.

The shovel knight gestured in front of himself and a shovel the size of a house materialized on its tip, before falling over and smashing into a group of clustered knights. Ryan opened his mouth and belched out a massive amount of flames, char broiling everyone in his vicinity.

Teams started joining up, creating shield walls while their less bulky teammates used their gifts with wild abandon.

As Joy watched the chaos unfold, he smiled. An arrow whizzed over his shoulder and a golden ball of light fluttered over the other. The arrow flew through the stone wall behind him, while the orb exploded once it touched the wall.

The explosion knocked Joy on his ass, but it only caused him to guffaw, his smile growing ever wider.

Joy stood up, projectiles missing him by a hair’s breadth, and he took his signature pose. Arms splayed out to either side and legs crossed, he asked a simple question to everyone in the arena.

“Do you want to play a game?”

A dignified voice that sounded a bit bored spoke into everyone’s mind, “infection. Do any of you need the rules explained to you?”

Joy looked quizzically up at the sky as a bolt of lightning arced over his head, singing his newly regrown hair.

“Yes, I think I do?”