The rest of the morning’s matches went almost exactly as I predicted, and the quarterfinals gave way to the semifinals that afternoon. I grabbed a quick lunch and headed back towards the beast resting area to pick up the next bout’s beast group.

I paused mid-stride when I saw a familiar face examining my tamed beasts. I hesitated only a fraction of a second before I continued my approach, stopping next to the observer.

“They’re pretty impressive, aren’t they?” I asked.

“Hmph,” the auburn-haired noble’s daughter responded haughtily. “They would stand no chance against me.”

She turned to face me, and I met her gaze, getting my first close look at Nodel in a decade. She had grown into a confident and attractive young woman, and her hazel eyes shone fiercely as she stared into my bright blue eyes that unwaveringly held hers.

“So. Pilus of… Gurt, was it? That’s where you grew up, then?”

I sighed. There was no reason to beat around the bush. “We both know the answer to that. I wasn’t trying to hide my identity from you, Nodel. It’s just been… complicated.”

There was a momentary delay, and then a sharp crack as she slapped me across the face. I sucked my teeth at the flash of pain, but the blow did not even take off a single health point. I raised my eyes back to hers and saw them angry, but threatening tears.

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” she hissed.

“I wanted to. I even went to your house, but… I got cold feet. I never saw you in town again after you ran off,” I said, wincing a bit before shaking my head. I did not want to shift the blame. I lifted my hand and opened my fist, showing her the brooch I had retrieved. “But I never forgot about you.”

She continued to glare, but her expression softened when she saw the leaf-patterned gold brooch I held. “You kept it. I thought you would have sold it by now.”

“Never.”

Nodel held her silence for a few moments, then blinked her eyes a few times and steeled her expression, raising her chin a bit as she put airs back on. “Well. I’m glad you survived. I’m sure you have a reason for not returning home, as I had ended up on my own journey as well. Perhaps we will find some time to talk about it after this tournament.”

“We can grab some tea right after I win this next bout,” I offered.

Nodel looked at me and raised a sharp eyebrow. “That’s rather… confident. Even if that winds up to be so, you wouldn’t want to watch the other semifinal match? See who you’ll be facing?”

I shook my head. “I already know who’s going to win. I’d rather take the opportunity to sit down with you and talk while we can.”

Nodel frowned, but I could tell by the flush on her cheek that it was a mask to hide a smile.

“I’ll see if I can meet you after, then.”

* * *

I stood across the arena from Gorban. At my sides stood the strongjaw mecrokotas and the mossen headpounder, and I sat upon my mystic tarand, considering the guandao user before the battle began.

My sword would be useless against his polearm’s superior reach, the long weapon a much better counter to my position as cavalry than Regan’s sword. I would not be charging him on Horsey, that much was certain. Instead, I held my bow.

The master of ceremonies rattled off our introductions, and Gorban nodded at me.

“I know Shirel said she would rather not have to meet you in the tournament, but I confess I’m rather excited to test myself against you,” the man from Taraponi said with a slight grin.

“Well, I’m glad it was after we got to the semifinals, at least,” I said with a good natured grin back. “May the best fighter win.”

He gave me a small bow, and I bowed my head back at him.

“The match begins… now!” the master of ceremonies shouted.

My mecrokotas burst forward, as planned, while my mossen headpounder took slow, ponderous steps towards the center of the arena. Gorban turned to deal with the oncoming beast, knowing full well how capable it could be, and I started sniping at him with arrows to draw his attention.

Unable to deal with both arrows and incoming beast, Gorban began to move, darting every which way without any perceivable rhyme or reason in order to throw off my accuracy while evading the sharp teeth of the mecrokotas as it lunged and bit at him. I kept my aim just to the man’s left, forcing him to continue dodging the mecrokotas in the direction he was subtly being herded.

Gorban continued to dodge and thrust his guandao to keep the attacker at bay, trying not to give up his position towards the outer edge of the arena. I fired an arrow directly at him just as the mecrokotas lunged, and followed it immediately with another to his left.

The two-armed fighter could try to dodge backwards, and potentially take the second arrow, or deke towards the centre of the arena. He decided to avoid the arrow, causing him to take a few steps closer to the mossen headpounder, who had sat down and shut its eyes.

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I saw Gorban’s eyes flick over the second beast, and his slight frown at the beast that seemed to just be resting. The combined assault from my arrows and the mecrokotas’s snapping jaws continued, and again Gorban was put into a position where he needed to choose between risking taking an arrow or moving closer to the second beast, which had not responded in the slightest.

A decision was made, and knowing how slow the evolved headpounder had become, Gorban leapt and rolled, funneled into the space between the two beasts. He came out of his roll with picture-perfect form, already sprinting to put some distance between himself and the mecrokotas and close the distance between us.

Like a serpent’s strike, the mossen headpounder’s hand was suddenly clamped down on Gorban’s guandao.

Gorban pulled, and the polearm did not budge. The headpounder’s grip was rock solid, and as the mecrokotas closed in on the man, he was forced to drop his primary weapon and leap away.

I grinned. I had avoided using the mossen headpounder the entire tournament for just such a moment. It worked even better on Gorban, as the man had spent time with the beast and knew it to be slow to rouse and seemed dull and listless when it needed to move. Unknown to Gorban, I had spent some time in private with the evolved beasts testing its new form and learning how it worked.

The original headpounder had been something of an ambush predator. It had limited endurance, but it could explosively pounce on its target, pinning it to the ground with its paws as it crushed it with powerful headbutts. When the beast had lost its explosive movement and instead gained more dexterous, gripping hands, I had gained a hint at how the evolved creature was meant to hunt in the wild.

Covered in moss that likely matched the part of the forest the beast was from, the mossen headpounder was a stealth ambush predator. It used its camouflage as a trap, waiting patiently and using next to no energy for however long it took until a possible target came dangerously close to it.

Then, in a flurry of movement, it used its long arms, strong grip, and claws that extended from the tips of each finger to bind its target into an unbreakable grip, taking its time to pull it back towards it, where it would slam the target against its head until it fell unconscious or died, similar to how it had before evolution.

Gorban, thinking it safe to quickly dodge past the beast, had fallen into the beast’s trap.

I saw the man glare back at the beast holding his weapon, and turn his eyes back to me. I knew that Gorban still posed a large threat without his guandao, but without the reach it afforded him, I was in the superior position.

We continued hounding the man as he evaded as best as he could, this time giving the headpounder in the center of the arena a wide berth. He managed to get near me and Horsey several times, and each time attempted to land what would certainly be a devastating blow upon us, but the tarand was quick and pranced away each time.

Breathing heavily, Gorban sucked air as the match stretched on, unable to rest for even a moment, while I remained in peak condition and untouched from upon my mount. He finally slowed just enough that my mecrokotas managed to clamp his jaws down on Gorban’s ankle.

The man drew back a fist to slam into the giant hyena-like beast’s head, then paused. The sharp teeth digging into his ankle told half the story when it came to the strongjaw mecrokotas’s biting strength, and Gorban knew it. If pushed to it, the mecrokotas could easily bite down, likely shattering the bones and possibly even severing the foot from the leg. It was electing to hold Gorban in place for the tournament, and my friend groaned, letting his fist fall to his side. He took a deep breath, then looked up at the judges.

“I yield.”

Horsey walked over as Gorban was released from the measured grip of the mecrokotas’s powerful jaws, and I slid out of the saddle to clap my friend on the shoulder. “Sorry I couldn’t give you more of a fair fight,” I apologized.

Gorban shook his head. “You fought with the advantages that you had, and that is always the wise choice. It was my mistake for getting too near that one,” he said, looking back at the headpounder as it ploddingly stepped towards us to return Gorban’s spear. “I never would have thought such a slow beast could be so fast.”

“Well, it wouldn’t work twice, now that you know. But hey, after this is all finished, perhaps we can have a proper spar,” I said, tapping the sword on my hip.

He grinned at me, and nodded. “It would be my pleasure to educate you on your failings.”

I laughed, and we left the arena as friends.

* * *

Nodel sipped her tea, and I picked up mine to do the same. We had told each other our stories of the previous decade, although mine was fairly heavily sanitized when it came to my apprenticeship. Still, I had been able to tell her, in general, how I had formed the Guild and helped Freehold grow.

“You’ve been taming since you were a child, haven’t you,” she said at the end of my story. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at the statement, but nodded. She laughed, a restrained aristocratic sound more than a reaction of true amusement. “I often saw you with a small orange creature when we were kids. You always thought you were so sneaky, but I could see right through you.”

I paused, mulling that over. I had done some things pretty carelessly as a youth, but I was relatively certain that I had succeeded at keeping a number of my secrets from my parents, at the very least. It was mostly around the beach and the piers that I might have slipped. That, or I had underestimated how closely the young girl had studied me.

“Speaking of your attempts at keeping secrets,” she said, slipping something out of a pocket and placing it on the table. I glanced down at a sight for sore eyes. One of my old stone magic circles lay in front of me, an item which I had not used in years since getting gold ones made.

“You still have this?” I said, surprised. I saw Nodel’s cheeks flush slightly, and she lifted her nose into the air.

“Merely a trinket to remind me of Mirut, that’s all.” She took a sip of tea, then cleared her throat. “But another one of your secrets, exposed.”

I frowned, looking closer at the stone disc. I could not even remember what I had told her about the thing as a child, probably something like that I had found it rather than made it. I looked back at her quizzically.

“This,” Nodel said, tapping the disc. “Should not exist. Master Vorel taught me that no mage would ever use a stone magic circle, because any other mage could destroy it with their own magic. That’s why magic circles are engraved in metal. If a mage could not yet afford a substantial metal magic circle, they would use parchment and magic ink to scribe magic circles for temporary use.”

Nodel lifted the stone disc again, then held it facing towards me accusingly.

“There was no chance that you would find something like this in Mirut. As such, you must have been the one to make it. To make such a precise tool from stone at that age…” Nodel shook her head. “Simply inconceivable.”

I laughed nervously, then glanced up at the fading sun. “Well, would you look at the time. I need to make it back to the arena for the finals. Thanks for the tea!” I said, standing quickly to escape until I could come up with some kind of answer for the girl who had always been too smart for my good.

Nodel arched an eyebrow at me, a wry smile on her face. “Good luck, Pilus. I’ll be watching.”