How much of what we once knew has been lost?

----------------------------------------

“Right this way, young sir."

Jair followed the attendant up the curving hall to the middle layer, where a row of doors led into the private boxes overlooking the arena.

"This will be your place for observation once your performance is over, and you may visit it at your leisure until it's time to begin."

Jair pushed open the door and stepped inside to survey the place.

He'd been here before, at some point, but it had been so long and there'd been so many more important things since then that he wasn't surprised at all to find he didn't recognize a single thing about it.

The Veshin arena was large, similar to an opera theatre but without seating for the common public, leaving the entire center open. The balconies surrounding the arena ran in discrete boxes along two sides, all deep blue carpets and polished grey marble accented with carved wood, showing off the Veshin colors. Two tiers of boxes running nearly the whole way around the outer edges, leaving the back wall empty apart from entry doors for the contestants. The ‘front’ was an open balcony where the outer hallways met, where anyone could pause to observe on their way to and fro.

Each box had its own private door into the hall outside, protected by heavy blue curtains from eavesdroppers, with a low marble and wood rail across the front. Most held between four and eight seats, though Jair couldn’t help but notice a few smaller and significantly more intimate options toward the middle of the top tier.

"I'm surprised there aren't more people here yet."

"They'll be coming in as they arrive. It's quite a while until the performances begin." The escort bowed slightly, gesturing with a hand to the door. "If young sir would like to avail himself of the refreshments, it might be wise to do so before you need to be in the preparation rooms."

Jair followed him out of his box and up the hallway, which continued to slope up and curve around the outside of the arena's wall.

Outside, the halls sloped up or down to meet in the middle, the front half of the building something of a ballroom. Today the vast space was filled with an assortment of cooking stations, both extravagant and simple. The variety gave it something of a faire look. Two rows of cooks stood ready to custom prepare anything from a grilled cactus skewer like he could get on any street corner, to a delicate northern icefish filleted and expertly poached in sauces he couldn't remember the names of but could tell immediately that they were among the most expensive to obtain.

"I recommend you steer clear of the pastries until afterwards, they have been a temptation to certain other fighters in the past and generally—"

Jair raised a hand. "I can take care of my diet, thank you." He selected an assortment of meats and vegetables, not giving the pastries so much as a second glance.

Food had long since lost its novelty, but it still provided an important function in keeping him alive and reinforcing his growth.

"I see. Is there anything else you need?"

"Where am I supposed to go for the actual performance, and when?" Something told him jumping down into the arena from the third-floor box would be unhelpful.

"Someone will be along to show you the way. Simply ensure you are still in the common areas or your box where we can find you."

With another bow, the man left.

Jair took his food back to his box, grabbing a glass of wine for good measure.

He had one of the first boxes on the end coming in from the training rooms, which was presumably also the direction of the preparation areas behind the arena.

He scanned the handful of early arrivals, several single people on their own, unashamedly staring at him or the others in their vicinity, measuring looks as they assessed everything from outfit to hairstyle to posture. The sundresses and open robes of the Institute event were traded out for sweeping floor length gowns and intricately embroidered doublets. Some proudly wore their house's colors, while others chose to disregard the dictates of alliance altogether, instead wearing whatever suited their individual preferences.

Jair didn't have an appropriately absurd outfit, but he could embody the stance and attitude with a thought. Eyes half closed, he stared back with the sort of lazy regard of someone who had so much else more important in their life, but at the moment he was bored enough to observe these insignificant creatures.

He held his wine delicately in one hand, nibbling at his vegetable strips as he scanned the people in attendance.

No one here currently had been at the initiation. Either they'd sent their children elsewhere, or they weren't in this specific initiation class. Jair considered whether he should introduce himself now, or wait until he'd showed them all something worth seeing, but decided to be bold and disregard value and common sense.

These were the people who could effect actual change, perhaps not in time to help Raina, but certainly with the whole Sekir business, and possibly even the invasions. The sooner he started making inroads, the better.

He made eye contact with one Anna Deladan, lifting his glass in an invitation. She considered him coyly, but stood and swept out of her box as he'd predicted. A few minutes passed while she walked around the outside, stopped to grab a glass of something pale golden and fizzy, and stepped into Jair's box.

Though a great many of these started the day with only a single occupant, more than a few would find themselves host to duos by the end.

"Lady Anna Deladan, it's a pleasure to meet you in person." He stood, sweeping a perfect bow with one arm extended, without so much as jostling his drink. "I am Jair Welburne, initiate mageblade, and one of our new performers today." Technically, his rank was unrecognized ascendant, but to say so outright would be bragging in the least productive way possible. Better to show them and have them ask questions afterward than to give away too much up front.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

"I thought you didn't look familiar. Welburne, did you say? I don't know that family."

"You wouldn't. We're from across the southeastern channel, are you familiar with central Bethar?" He gave out his usual cover story without even thinking.

"Can't say that I am." She sipped her drink, watching him with that faint smile.

He waved a hand to the seat beside his, waiting for her to be seated before resuming his own lounging. "May I interest you in these lovely coil-peppers? They're delicious when paired with the ryish sauce."

He held one out to her.

She scanned the offering, then her eyes ran over his face and body–what little could be seen under the Institute's white robes. "Forward of you to be offering me a meal on our first meeting."

Jair popped the strip of pepper into his own mouth with a shrug, dipping another into the sauce. "I don't like waiting around. If we know what we want, why play games?"

"Games can be quite fun, though." She leaned over to pluck a terraroot sliver from his plate, then dropped it into her glass. Immediately the golden liquid swirled, turning thick and orange as the root dissolved. She watched his reaction carefully, then took a sip.

"You know that's considered a toxic combination, I'm sure. Though unless you're planning to frame me for your murder, I don't see the point." Jair rolled his pepper strip between his fingers, then drank from his own glass. "I prefer a tarter cherry these days, but I'll admit this goes well with the peppers."

"You're an unusual young man, Welburne."

"Thank you. You have no idea how unusual. Hopefully the demonstration will be enlightening."

"Indeed?" She leaned back, drinking more of her toxic brew, and reached across for more terraroot.

Jair made no move to stop her. "Old habits never die, I see."

She narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, hesitated before adding the root to her drink. "There's nothing wrong with a little indulgence now and again."

"Certainly not, or the opportunity wouldn't be available so freely in an event of such prestige." Jair crossed his legs and tossed the pepper strip in his mouth. "I'd wager few are as bold as you, though."

She drank again, the liquid a deep orange nearly red by now, and without any hint of bubbles, watching him.

"I'm a bit impulsive,” he told her. “Waiting patiently isn't my style. I don't want to come back in a year to test the next tier."

"A bold desire indeed. You know that most initiates only make it halfway through the beginner tier."

"I'll reach the second. At minimum."

"What are you trying to prove here?"

"I could ask the same of you." He raised his glass towards hers. "If you're trying to convince me to hire you, I'm afraid your methods won't be effective against my enemy."

Her eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. “You’re familiar enough with my methodology to say as much?”

“I know a lot more about you than you’d expect. Your nephew’s difficulty, for instance. Very well concealed, almost no one would ever be able to piece it together.”

Anna’s eyes lost their humor, hand freezing on the glass. Then she shook her head, laughing it off. “I have a great many nephews, and I can’t say most of them deserve mention.”

“Slipping since you left the clan, I see.”

“Why call me over, what do you want? If you know so much about me, you must have a purpose.”

Jair took his time answering, savoring the coil pepper and the sweet cherry liquor, watching her in turn. “I thought you liked games.”

“Clever boy.” What humor she injected in her voice was all pretense; she was shaken and wary.

“I’m going to be wanting some favors in the future. Nothing significant, a vote here, a whisper to the right ear there. And I’m willing to pay. But I’m also interested to see how much you’re willing to wager against my success here.”

She looked him over again, taking in the Astralla Mageblade Institute insignia over his left thigh, his age, his appearance. He could all but see the calculations flashing through her eyes. Who was he? Did he really need to survive the night?

Jair began taking small, neat bites of the last remaining terraroot. Sweet, with a lingering aftertaste of intense spiciness. He turned his attention to scanning the balconies, making no effort to rush her, though she remained sitting and staring for several minutes.

Another dozen people arrived in the interim, three couples, one family, and several more solo. Jair noted the owner of a particular chain of lantern constructs, on the upper tier, eighth box from the center. He’d have to visit him next.

Finally, Anna broke the silence. “Reaching the second tier has been done before.”

“Only once.”

“No, it has been reached dozens of times. Only once has its first level been defeated by an initiate, and never more than that. Those who mastered their tier wisely bowed out without testing their pride against that which was not meant for them.”

“You needn’t worry about my pride. I’m well aware of my limitations.” Limitations he cursed more minute by minute, but he was doing the most he possibly could.

“If you fail, I will consider our business at an end.”

“Acceptable.” Jair stood and bowed. “I look forward to working with you in future. I suggest you go find yourself a nightplum or three before you start to cause irreversible damage to yourself. That can’t be good for your array, whatever resistance you’ve built up against the physical effects.”

She let out a soft laugh, almost a snort, and held up a hand. “I see it would be foolish to bet against you.”

Jair helped her to her feet, then went ahead and kissed her hand for good measure. If he was going to play the game, may as well go all in. “I always win in the end,” he agreed. “You’ll find me a more than suitable ally.”

“We’ll see. Words are cheap.”

“And actions prove the man.” Jair smiled with genuine enjoyment. It had been too long since he’d found himself in a truly different situation. Sure, he knew Anna Deledan inside and out, but he’d underestimated the ways his new position would change things.

Anna departed to find her antidote and enjoy the aftereffects of her mix, which would probably take her up until the demonstration to work through. Jair didn’t see the appeal himself, but who was he to judge. He’d been through such a stage at one time himself, but found no solution in such pursuits.

As long as it wasn’t interfering with his goals, he couldn’t care less what these people did with themselves. Or each other. By the way she was eying the recently-eligible Segrin Biraz, he doubted either of them would be paying much attention to the show.

Why people felt the need to pair up in such a blatantly public way, Jair would never know. Especially when she was ostensibly married and he’d just lost his wife. But that had little to do with him.

Jair found himself still smiling long after Anna departed. Everything was so far outside of expectations. He’d never before sat here on this day, and couldn’t wait to see how the circumstances of their first meeting changed things still further.

It had been a long time since he felt the buzz of so much sheer possibility.

Play his tiles right, and anything could be possible.

----------------------------------------