“The coachmen can’t hear us, by the way.” Remy remarked once we had pulled away from the white arena. I hadn’t even thought to worry about the gnome driving the carriage, but I nodded as if that had been a concern.

“Is it just me, or all those gnomes kind of creepy? How did they end up running a place like the Plains of Valor?” Claire asked with earnest confusion.

It made me think about things myself. It did seem to be a very strange place for a group of small, magically inclined, usually slightly isolationist people to be. Had they moved in when they saw opportunities, or had they always been here? Who was the lord of the realm?

“Who is the lord of this realm?” Chrys asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, as did Claire.

“Zephyrus McBane is the Lord of the Plains of Valor. He watches the battles of the gladiators, seeking to perfect every technique employed in any of his arenas. Obsessive about perfect skill is an understatement. He’s only interested in his own prowess, although if a combatant shows enough talent he will offer to give them lessons in hopes they will one day be a worthy challenger. Supposedly he’s never mentored anyone who wasn’t at least Emerald.” Remy answered.

I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. Now that my hands were protected by scales, I didn’t need to fear the sharp edges of my own body. I had rather excellent technique if I said so myself.

“Don’t even think it, this reclusive weapons master isn’t going to come out and teach you anything, you aren’t even Citrine yet, let alone Emerald,” Claire shot down my thought process with a scarily accurate guess on what I was thinking. How did she know? None of the concepts I’d enkindled for her included telepathy or mind reading.

“Do the gnomes work for McBane?” Chrys asked, to which no one had an answer.

“We’re veering off track,” Remy interjected. “We were talking about Miyuki of the Six Swords.”

“Right. What race is she? Does she use six swords? What concepts does she have?” I focused on Remy.

“Miyuki is a Kitsune, with six tails. She’s very powerful, and like me, a Citrine. Possibly an Emerald.”

“What’s the difference between a Topaz and a Citrine?” Claire asked. She was the most recently elevated member of our party, a new Topaz.

“Ruby is acquired by receiving your first enkindled concept. Topaz is received by reaching all four of your concepts being activated. Citrine is when you have awakened all twenty of your abilities. Emerald is assumed by upgrading all of your abilities, as is Sapphire. The jump from Emerald to Sapphire is a real monster of a difference, from what I understand. Vesperite requires upgrading your concepts themselves, and Amethyst is who knows what.” Remy shrugged on the last tier.

“Amethyst is overcoming your concepts,” I answered with knowledge from Arx Maxima. I had no idea what that meant, practically, but I had a hard time imagining a scenario where I could overcome Arx Maxima herself.

“How many of your abilities are upgraded?” I asked Remy.

“Eight,” Remy answered without hesitation. He didn’t tell me which ones, however. Maybe he didn’t quite trust Chrys or Claire, or even me, with that knowledge yet.

“How do the upgrades work?” Claire asked.

“It isn’t universal, and your needs have a large impact on it. My ability Pyroclast’s Charge allows me to use flames to propel myself at great speeds but is very difficult to control. Think ice skating super-fast. When I upgraded it, I formed a modifier evolution that is always active, and relying on one of my other abilities, makes it easier to control. Whereas with my Infernal Strike ability, I upgraded it to have a secondary mode that unleashes a ranged wave attack.” Remy explained two of his enhanced abilities to us.

When can I start upgrading my abilities?

“As soon as you finish unlocking them all,” Arx Maxima answered me with an I-told-you-to-get-to-it-already tone. I thought I’d done rather well for the short period of time I had abilities at all, but maybe I had started to grow complacent without more difficult challenges.

“For a fire mage, you sure cast a lot of not-fire magic,” Claire noted accusatorily.

“You found me out,” Remy laughed. “I can use most forms of magic, only two of my concepts are related to fire.”

I grunted, suddenly not that interested in the conversation. It wasn’t that I was jealous of Remy, I’d always known he’d had amazing powers, but I still had a complex relationship with the topic. I couldn’t very well tell him his magic wasn’t all that, and I was proud of my uncle, but… magic still kind of pissed me off, and I looked forward to punching Mithras, the so called god of magic, in the face. A lot.

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Remy must have noticed how I felt, because he changed the topic.

“Anyway,” Remy coughed. “Miyuki. She’s a master swordsman alright, but she specializes in support magic and illusions too. She wields one sword in her right hand, and the other five she wields with magic.”

I took a deep breath, steadying my emotions. Magic or no magic, I had power, I wasn’t less or broken, and I needed to not make those around me feel like I nursed a still healing wound, even if I very much did. I had to appear strong, didn’t I?

Both Chrys and Remy looked at me. Remy’s eyes filled with something like apology or sadness, self-recrimination, perhaps? While Chrys’s eyes showed nothing, but the slight pursing of her lips told me she’d noticed the slight difficulty I suffered in controlling my emotion too.

“Okay, and have you fought this woman before?” I asked.

“Once. She obliterated me, punished me for killing a Kitsune, then sent me on my way. That was ten years ago for me, likely less for her.” Remy grimaced. I could tell the memories were painful for him based solely on his expressions, but he danced around the events that had happened with Miyuki and her sister so much that his vagueness could be hiding secrets to the defeat of his enemies.

“If we’re lucky you’ll get a chance to watch her fight before having to fight her, if not, you can use your enkindlers senses to discern what her abilities are. That doesn’t reveal spell lists, powers gained from equipment, but it should tell you the core of her abilities if nothing else.” Remy nodded.

Awkward silence reigned for the rest of our ride. Remy’s mood became melancholic and haunted by the past. Chrys spent her time shaping a piece of copper into rose pin, and Claire and I stared out the windows of the carriage. Once we went beyond the White Arena the encampments of wooden and stone palisades gave way to more permanent encampments of brick and artistic stone.

I had a lot of questions about the Plains of Valor. Why did people even come here? Why did they stay? Were the encampments all filled with active fighters, or had some become something else? Were any of them more like towns than tribal halls? How did the Gnomes play into it all? Did McBane lure or trap people here? It felt more than a coincidence that the Obsidian Arena held two cursed fighters, and Remy had run afoul of a sealed monster in the past.

None of the answers came to me during the hour and a half long carriage ride to the Silver Arena. The pale sun had nearly set when the carriage pulled alongside a side entrance of the larger arena. When the carriage door opened, two gnomes were waiting between the carriage and the arena itself.

One of them was Sven. I had no idea how he had beaten us here, but he did look a fair bit like the adult gnome he stood next too, who sucked in air to puff up his chest, then ended up coughing and looking vexed that his dignity would be ruined like this in front of strangers. Sven chirped up while he coughed.

“Hiya, Lord Emery. This is my Uncle, Sabin, the bet maker for the Silver Arena. Claire, Chrys, Remy,” the young gnome nodded to each of the people in my retinue. I still wasn’t sure why I got to be called lord while a living statue like Chrys was so casually reduced to her first name.

“It’s nice to see you again so soon, Sven, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Sabin,” I offered a slight bow of my head to the adult gnome. I don’t know what kind of accord being a dragonoid gained me, but I could tell people had different expectations of me than of my companions.

After a few more coughs, Sabin finally straightened his bow tie.

“Yes, well. Sven says you took out the White Arena in a clean sweep. You’ll likely find the Silver Arena a more enjoyable challenge. Our fighters are all at least Topaz, or have entered Citrine. It’s much too late to get you into the arena tonight, which is why I’m here. We can do one of two things, Lord Emery. You may opt to construct your own encampment anywhere with free space, hire space from another gladiator, or for the price of an enkindled concept or two, stay within the vast luxury of our city, Stonehollow.” Sabin tried to make up for his earlier coughing fit by being extra careful with his diction and manners, but it didn’t take long for him to get to the crux of the deal.

Had I mentioned I was an enkindler, or had one of my companions? I suppose it didn’t matter, especially if it got us an option that I wanted to explore more than anything else.

“We’d be glad to stay in your wonderful city, sir Sabin,” I answered quickly, before Remy could speak up and get us sleeping in much worse quarters. I could already imagine the grand majesty of the gnome city in my mind, with magic everywhere, polished gems, rock sculptures, and their love for all things innovative.

“This way then, Lord Emery!” Sven chirped up, and lead me towards the doors, leaving his uncle behind looking annoyed at being forgotten so swiftly.

Sven brought us through the labyrinthine corridors of the lower Arena, and then into an elevator. Unlike the perfectly smooth elevators within Arx Maxima, this one jolted and shifted while we rode it, and I briefly wondered if it was even safe to ride in. Sabin and Sven seemed unbothered by the noisy ride, but Remy, Claire, and I were anxious, as if each groan of the elevator or the cables it ran on might lead to our death.

Chrys on the other hand, seemed in love with it all. She peered at the control unit, and touched the side walls to try and learn more about the contraption. Unlike humans, Chrys’s main senses were based on vibrations, and with the amount the elevator made she no doubt had a great view of the equipment outside of the elevator too. Since she didn’t yell at them to stop it all, I could only assume the mechanical components of the elevator were fine and it sounded worse than it was.

Finally, the doors opened. There was no whoosh.

We were on a platform slightly higher than the rest of the city. The buildings were all made from local rock, largely some gray stone I didn’t know the name of. The construction methods varied greatly. Some buildings had been made with stone brick and mortar, some had been clearly shaped by magic, and a few were a lighter color that looked like concrete.

Every street had lamp lights hung from poles to provide ample lightning to the population, and I could see hundreds of gnomes rushing about their business.

“Twilight up top, so everyone’s getting ready to settle in for dinner. The guesthouse for outsiders serves some really good food, so it’ll be hopping at this time of day. Let’s go get you some rooms and food, then you can enkindle me!” Sven practically jumped up and down at the end.

I shot a look at Sabin, who rolled his eyes, but nodded at my unspoken question on if Sven was one of those he’d bargained for.