The metallic clang of sword crossing sword rang out through the roaring arena. A hungry crowd begged for more, jeering and screaming. In the centre of the arena, the dust never settled. Yellowed clouds waved to and fro as steel carved through the air and boots pounded the earth. A flicker of orange sent the crowd staggering back slightly. Even with the protections in place, it was unnerving to see such power wielded so casually.
“Your Highness, are you not enjoying the tournament?” Hadrian asked, his eyes flitting between the combatants and his king.
“It is already clear who will be the victor,” Cedric responded, more interested in the cup held between his hands than the bout in front of him. He took a swig of the tart drink, suppressing a grimace. “The Lartonan’s kiln burns but a flicker compared to that Xonari behemoth.”
“So it seems,” Eldrin said. “But we have seen stranger things. I would not count out the Lartonan just yet.”
“Would you care to make a wager on that?” Cedric asked a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
“I wouldn’t dare dream of it, Your Highness,” Eldrin responded, hand over his heart. “Humiliating the king so publicly, I would be executed on the spot!” The three men shared a laugh.
“Both of you, cease this ‘Your Highness’ nonsense, for goodness sake,” Cedric said, shaking his head. “Divines only know how often I need ask.”
“At least once more,” Hadrian said, sipping from his own cup. A bright flash of white shot across the crowd, followed closely by a thunderous clap. The crowd erupted in sympathetic groans. Even the three men in the royal booth grimaced as the scent of electric discharge drifted past them. “Should we fetch Aeliana? These bouts might end in death if she can not intervene quickly enough.”
“Aeliana has her hands full with the Saint,” Eldrin said, leaning slightly forward. “You have no need to worry, my wards are ready, I will be able to intervene if the need arises.”
“As you intervened when we sieged Eredor?” Cedric asked, chuckling. His question was only answered with a scowl.
“Cedric has a point,” Hadrian said, punching Eldrin on his shoulder. “You nearly cost us the city, not to mention our lives.”
“If only the fortunes favoured me so that day,” Eldrin snipped. “We all know that if you had been in proper formation my protection would have been more than adequate.”
“Half my men suffered burns!” Hadrian retorted. “How do you call that adequate?”
“You were supposed to form a phalanx by the gate!” Eldrin barked. “Instead, you spread your men out all over the wall, in spite of our rigorous planning. Some commander you are.”
“Gentlemen, let us keep the attention on our combatants,” Cedric said. Eldrin and Hadrian quickly became aware of the amount of stares directed at them. They composed themselves and turned back to watch the bout without much enthusiasm. In their bickering, they had missed most of the battle. “These are the losers’ finals, correct?”
“Yes, the battle for third rank,” Eldrin said. “I never understood why they would put this right before the finals. Feels almost insulting, considering what we’re likely to see in the finals.” Cedric nodded his agreement.
“I’ve heard the finalists are both monsters in their own right,” Hadrian said. “It’s a shame we missed their brackets.”
“Indeed it is, but we cannot put this entire spectacle on hold for our own sakes,” Cedric said. The other two nodded. The tournament was for the benefit of the people too, after all.
“How is Aeliana’s training with the Saint progressing?”
“Last I heard, Aeliana was close to wringing the child’s neck,” Eldrin said, unable to suppress his smile. “She has a wild streak and is infinitely curious. Were it not for her lens, she would have made an excellent sorcerer.”
“Have we still not managed to tame that wild side?” Cedric scoffed. “She has been in the care of the church her entire life! One would imagine a devout life of faith would inspire more discipline. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if Aeliana takes some sick pleasure in her failings.”
“There is only so much one can do to temper a soul,” Hadrian commented. “The Saint is rigid, and our restrictions may have only served to strengthen her thirst for grander experiences in life. We of all people know how difficult some people are to mold. Perhaps we should humour the child’s curiosities.”
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“We cannot risk her out in the world,” Eldrin said. “It is unfortunate, but we cannot chance her lens turning.” The other two men nodded solemnly. For a few minutes, the roaring of the crowd bathed the three men in a deafening silence, their eyes on the bout before them, but their minds drifting to far away places. Each bared a weight fit for ten men on their shoulders, and every day the burdens grew, and their strength faltered. The crowd’s roar, a distant rumbling, was brought sharply back into focus with a new presence that manifested beside the king. She kneeled immediately.
“My liege, I come bearing news from the Northern front.” She produced a roll of paper, which Cedric accepted. As quickly and unnoticed as she arrived, she made herself unseen again. Cedric unrolled the paper and began reading, his heart sinking with every word.
“Blasted!” he barked, crushing the parchment in his hand. His head fell against the back of his chair, pulled there by the ever-increasing weight of the crown that rested atop his head. “We are losing ground. Things cannot continue as they are..”
“How many casualties?” Hadrian asked, eyes locked to the ground.
“More than we can afford,” Cedric said, eyes to the heavens.
“We should not be here,” Hadrian said, barely containing his frustration. “If Eldrin and I were there, we could turn the tides!”
“No,” Cedric said firmly. “I recognise your strength, but it is of more use to me here than out there. I can not afford to lose either of you, especially not when things are this dire.” He fell back into his chair. “We need a miracle.”
“Divines help us,” Eldrin said, rolling his eyes.
“You do not frequent the church enough to ask the divines for aid,” a woman’s voice said. She stepped forward, took the king’s cup from his hand, and drank the contents in a single swig.
“Always a pleasure, Aeliana,” Eldrin said, offering his cup as well. She accepted, quickly emptying it as well. “What could possibly have made you so desperately seek the bottom of a glass?”
“The Saint has disappeared once again,” Aeliana said, her hands thrown heavenbound in frustration. “I do not know how the brat escapes her guard, but she is certainly becoming more proficient at it.”
“Do not worry,” Eldrin said, waving her annoyance off. He closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head left and right. “She’s here, in the lower stands of the arena. Come, join us. The final bout will start soon, and it promises to be quite the spectacle. If rumours are to be believed, neither of the two in the finals have lost once, and both have ended their bouts in less than a minute.”
“I cannot leave the Saint unattended,” Aeliana said, turning to leave.
“I’ll keep a monitor on her,” Eldrin said. “She’s safe in the lower stands, and you will go grey if you keep worrying so much.” Aeliana shot Eldrin a chilling glare, before taking a seat. The current bout lasted for a few minutes more, with both combatants being fairly evenly matched. In the end, the Xonarian’s wards proved ever so slightly too weak to withstand his opponent's attacks, and he fell in a flurry of fire and light. The final bout was at hand.
The announcer spent some time recounting the events of the day, attempting to build excitement from the crowd. He welcomed the first combatant, eliciting cheers and whistling from the crowd. A shorter man emerged from the walls of the arena. Immediately he caught the attention of Hadrian and Eldrin. His very presence seemed to command it.
On closer study, both noticed that this was not a man of short stature, but a child, only in his mid-teens. His hair was inexpertly cut short, and despite his age he bore himself with confidence. All three men wished they had been able to see his earlier fights. Surely, for this boy to make it to the finals he would need to be a true demon. He had an immensely powerful aura surrounding him, but only Eldrin could see even deeper.
“How peculiar,” he mumbled, now fully invested in the unfolding scene.
The announcer beckoned to the second combatant, who was only met with stunned silence. Again, a child, around the same age as his opponent, but much smaller in stature. His hair was long and unkempt. He only wore what one could very generously call rags, draped over a body that was more bone than flesh. He gave the impression that a gentle breeze would reduce him to dust. Hadrian could not see a glimpse of this boy’s aura. This was surely some mistake, but no one rose to correct it. The crowd, while silent, did not seem surprised. Once again, Eldrin could peer where others' eyes would fail. He immediately rose to his feet, leaning forward over the barrier between the royal booth and the arena.
“What is wrong?” Hadrian asked, also rising to his feet.
“Prepare yourself to intervene,” Eldrin whispered, his voice filled with urgency. His eyes never wavered from the combatants. Not a single movement went unnoticed. Everyone, though their perceptions failed to tell them why, could feel the shift in the air.
“Have your wards failed?” Cedric asked, joining the other two men by the railing.
“No, but I fear they might be insufficient for this bout,” Eldrin said. Cedric and Hadrian scanned his face for any hint of jesting but found only worry and resolve. Both turned to the combatants, now studying them much more closely. Ripples radiated from the arena, standing the hairs on their necks. Someone should have warned them and told them what they would see. They should not have missed the earlier battles.
“Should we stop them?” Cedric asked.
“No, we can not,” Eldrin said, his gaze never wavering. He wanted to stop them, he knew he should have stopped them, but eclipsing both his desire and his duty was his need to see for himself what these two young men would bring.
“I do not understand,” Hadrian said. “What do you see?”
“A miracle.”