Rieren was determined to find out the truth behind the incident. So determined, in fact, that she attempted to set up a meeting with her companions so they could go over the situation as soon as possible. But she had forgotten how late at night it was and how tense everyone had become. Rieren would need to hold her horses.

At least, until the next day, when she did end up convincing Mercion, Silomene, and Amalyse to come meet her at a different grove away from the main grounds.

“I suppose I could,” Mercion said. Rieren had asked him whether he would be able to dig into the Aryoventos more, especially details regarding the scion who had died. The murder of an Archnoble Clanmaster’s son was no small matter indeed. “I was going to do that either way, you know. We just have to be careful because everything is so—”

“Tense,” Rieren said. “Yes, I am aware.”

“You should be focusing on your upcoming battle,” Amalyse said.

“We do not have the matchups announced yet.”

“But it’s going to come out today.”

“It could be difficult for us,” Silomene said. “And even for Lord Mercion here. But we could ask the Empress, potentially.”

That was one avenue Rieren hadn’t considered much. Especially since Kalvia hadn’t been forthcoming since that surprise meeting a few nights ago.

“I would not rely on it being fruitful,” she said.

“But it can’t hurt to try.”

True enough.

“Do you know what has happened to the captive?” Rieren asked.

“No sign of it at all,” Amalyse said. She glanced at Mercion, who shook his head. None of them knew what had happened to the Arisen taken away by the Avatars last night. It was still too recent, perhaps. Maybe they were waiting or a better time so that a large number of people would be witness to it. “I can’t believe they actually managed to bring it in without more trouble.”

Rieren snorted a little, though there was no amusement in her voice. “Oh, there would have been a good deal of trouble if I had not been there.”

She explained what had happened. How she had somehow managed to convince the monsters that surrendering one of their own lay in their best interests. Under the current circumstances, that was. A situation forced upon them by some malevolent actor.

That she had pulled off such a mediation with nothing bad happening as a result was a small miracle in and of itself. Something Amalyse reminded her of too.

“You did a great job there,” she said. “I hate to think what would have happened otherwise.”

“Well, I have broken some of the trust I have been garnering all this while.” Rieren smiled wryly. “But if that is what it takes, then so be it.”

“Does that mean you won’t be training any more of the monsters?”

Amalyse had clearly been attempting to joke, but it landed off for Rieren. Or maybe her new form just couldn’t appreciate humour as she had used to.

But before Rieren could find a proper response, the tournament interrupted them.

“Oh look,” Mercion said. “We have a guest.”

They did indeed. A singular glowing orb was floating into the little clearing. Strange. Just the one. Had Amalyse not received one because she had been eliminated, or because she was in the vicinity of someone who was getting one already?

Eiether way, the orb came to a stop before the four of them. It was time for the announcements.

“Attendants and competitors,” the commentator yelled, his voice resounding in the tree-enclosed area. “It’s time to announce our quarter final matchups! So gather around and listen closely. Now we will learn who fights who for the crown of the Trials of the Ascendance.”

“Get on with it, showman,” Amalyse muttered.

Almost as though the commentator had heard her mutter, he proceeded to announce the actual pairings. “For our first battle, we have Kalvia Zhouven, the heir apparent, facing off against Cerill Astor, the second scion of the ancient Astor clan! Both competitors have had rousing runs through the tournament, winning with brilliant upsets.”

“Cerill and Kalvia facing each other?” Amalyse said. She shook her head.

Rieren could understand her disbelief. That three competitors from one sect would make it that far into the Trials was certainly an odd coincidence. That two of them would end up facing each other in the quarter finals was even stranger.

“For our next battle,” the commentator said. “Rykion Karlosyne, the scion of the Archnoble Karlosyne clan, takes on our returning monstrous competitor, the Stifling Nebula! Karlosyne has been tearing apart the competition, winning soundly against both monsters and humans in his bid to become the champion of the Trials.

“Meanwhile, after a tragic disturbance, the monsters have changed their roster. Despite suffering defeat at the hands of one of our upcoming combatants, the Stifling Nebula has found a way into the quarter finals. Will the Arisen be able to make up for its grievous loss against a tournament favourite and claim victory?”

“Fat chance of that,” Amalyse muttered. She eyed Rieren. “Unless you’ve got some sort of plan?”

It was probably unkind of Rieren to agree with Amalyse’s assessment, but she did anyway. “No, I doubt any sort of plan would ever survive an encounter with Rollo’s brother.”

Amalyse snorted.

“Why does he keep us waiting?” Mercion asked, glaring at the glimmering orb like it was the announcer personified. “Enough of the—”

The commentator barged through Mercion’s tirade. “Our third battle pits Rieren Vallorne, the monstrous convert, against Silvas Fraile, the Sword Saint of the East! Both competitors have been tearing through the competition. This will be the collision of two onrushing meteors, folks. No doubt about that!”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Rieren couldn’t hold back her tense little smile. So that was it. She would have to get through Silvas to win the Trials of Ascendance.

Amalyse raised an eyebrow at her. “You think you can handle him?”

Rieren wanted to answer with an affirmative, but they were both aware it wasn’t going to be easy. Even if Amalyse didn’t know Silvas the way Rieren did, she had seen enough of him in the tournament to know he was one of the toughest competitors in the tournament. “We shall see.”

Amalyse flashed her a fierce smile. “See? You’re Abyss-cursed Rieren Vallorne. I don’t care what tricks that sand dancer has got up his sleeves, you’ll eat him for breakfast.”

“I don’t think sand is easily digestible, Lady Arraihos,” Silomene said.

Amalyse laughed. “Have you seen Rieren, Lady Tarciel? I’m sure she digests whole mountains every other day.”

Rieren smiled at them. She appreciated that they had faith in her, that they were trying to buoy up her confidence. They all knew how hard it would be to defeat Silvas.

But they also knew how impossible it was to win against Rieren.

“And our final battle of the round will see another awestriking pairing,” the commentator said, having had his fill of the suspense he had created. Not that it was much of a suspense for Rieren. There were only two people left, after all. “Essalina Arteroth facing off against Ceraline Selvier!

“Two women who have also shattered all opposition standing in their way, who have yet to see anything even close to defeat in the tournament. A gargantuan match to end the quarter finals with.”

After the announcement of the matches themselves, the commentator ended his spiel by highlighting which day would hold which match. The first one would occur in a day’s time, with the rest coming in the following days, one per day. In other words, Rieren had three days to prepare for her fight against Silvas.

And yet, she was already raring to go and test her newfound strength against him.

“Well, that settles that,” Mercion said after the glimmering orb had taken its leave. “I hope you are ready, Rieren.”

“I have three days to train and prepare,” she said. “I should make good use of it.”

“A good thing you’re facing Fraile, too.” Mercion scowled a little. “He’s not one of those who try to get any advantage they can before a fight.”

Rieren smiled. Mercion was right about that. Silvas had always been more or less the honourable type. So much so that she doubted he would even stoop to spying out his opponents beforehand. Rieren herself had done some of that.

“Let me know if you find anything,” Rieren said. “I want to go and start training. The tournament is finally starting to become serious.”

Amalyse laughed with a shake of her head. “So it’s only now becoming serious, is it?” Her laughter faded. “I’m just glad you’re going to focus, Rieren.”

Rieren closed her eyes for a second, then grinned. “I will certainly try.”

Waving farewell to her friends, she left to begin her exercise. Rieren might have come in with a good deal of frustration about the situation with the monsters, and it was still simmering just beneath the immediate plain of concerns she held, but her outlook had changed a little. The announcement had reinforced what her true priority ought to be.

Winning the Trials of Ascendance. To do that, she would need to get past powerful opponents. She would need to call upon all her strength to be victorious.

Besides, being angry at the circumstance wasn’t going to help. She needed to take action. That was all that mattered. At the moment, her choices were limited and the information she had was sparce. Hopefully, something would crop up that she could act on.

Until then, she needed to concentrate on defeating Silvas.

But as Rieren left the grove where she had been meeting her friends, she found a strange sight awaiting her. A thin line of darkness was cutting across the ground in the distance. Intrigued, Rieren walked over to find out exactly what it was. When she did, she frowned.

“Elder?” she said.

The line of darkness was a familiar thread of murky liquid cutting through the ground. A finger-thin stream of fluid blackness winding sinuously towards the tournament’s main grounds.

Tutting a little, Rieren placed her foot on the tiny stream.

“Rude.” In an instant, a pool of liquid gathered around Rieren’s foot. Elder Olg emerged a little later, frowning up at her. “Must you interrupt my sojourn in this manner?”

“You did not respond to my call, Elder. Yet a foot makes you emerge all the same.”

“Leave this poor, old man be, Rieren. Can I not enjoy my retirement as I see fit?”

Rieren raised an eyebrow at him. “Please, speak plainly, Elder. What in the world are you trying to do here? Have you not heard what occurred with the monsters recently? If you are spotted, things would take a turn for the worse, and it already is quite bad.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware.” He got to his feet. It was the first time Rieren had seen him stand in a long while. “But I couldn’t wait any longer. I’ve been waiting for too long already.”

“Waiting for what?” Rieren asked. “I know I have not yet found this anchor of yours, but—”

“It isn’t about that. I have news. News I need to share with that Banishedborn of yours.”

“Starloper? What news do you have to deliver to him?” She didn’t say the other thing she wanted to ask—when was Elder Olg on direct speaking terms with Starloper?

“It’s about the Banishedborn. Specifically, about a new one.”

“A new one?”

“They are waiting until a new Banishedborn rises from the Trials of Ascendance.”

Rieren raised a hand to make Elder Olg stop talking. He wasn’t making a ton of sense. Or maybe it was just the shock of what he was revealing that had her stumped.

“Can you start from the beginning, Elder?” she asked, trying to appear more disciple-like. “I am having trouble understanding.”

Elder Olg plopped back down onto his liquid Dreadflood form, crossing his legs and arms. Despite the heavy landing, there was no splash at all. “We have a new god, yes?”

“Yes.” Rieren paused. “Oh.”

“Yes. All gods have at least one Banishedborn. Now that our old Emperor has ascended to the Divine Realm, he is expected to attain a Banishedborn under his service soon enough. The original expectation was Starloper, the godless Banishedborn. However, it looks like the Emperor will need to resort to someone else.”

“Because Starloper is not interested in becoming another god’s pawn after his last one died.”

“Well, you would know his reasonings better than me. But the fact remains that someone within the Trials will likely rise to join the Emperor. The question remains on who it might be.”

That was a concerning question. For all that the Elder was referring to the tournament, no one in the tournament was anywhere near strong enough to be considered for the candidacy of a Banishedborn’s position.

Unless, they weren’t actually looking at the competitors.

“The Clanmasters,” Rieren said.

Elder Olg nodded morosely where he sat. “Exactly.”

Rieren understood now. To be a Banishedborn, one had to be at least in the Fated realm, like the Emperor had been before his ascension. No one in all the Elderlands came close, of course. However, there were those who could break through the Fated realm under the right circumstances.

That was where the Clanmasters came in. The problem was that Rieren had no idea who she could narrow it down to.

This was worsened by the fact that she didn’t know most of their strengths. Some, yes, but nowhere near enough.

“You wanted to deliver just that message all the way to Starloper?” Rieren asked.

“Well, someone had to,” Elder Olg said. “Since I had no idea where you were, I decided to do it myself.”

“How do you even continue to find such information, Elder?”

He smiled, quite satisfied with himself. “I have my sources, which you should know by now.”

Rieren supposed she did, if she thought about it. He was connected to the god of the Abyss. Perhaps to the one overseeing the Aether as well. It was natural that they would pass down what vital knowledge they were able to accrue to their greatest instrument in the Mortal Realm.

“Let me handle the matter, Elder,” Rieren said. “I will inform Starloper in a discreet way. He should be able to utilize the information.”

Elder Olg started disappearing, apparently satisfied his student would personally see to the matter. “He will need to. I’m certain the Banishedborn are planning something. We all need to be wary.”

Rieren nodded as Elder Olg dissolved into the dark murk and the liquid began retreating the way it had come. Even the tiny stream that had edged out farther ahead went back. She resumed her journey back to her own little clearing. Blasted Banishedborn had better not interfere before she was done winning the tournament.