EPILOGUE SELENE
My first fight in the Grand Tournament is far too easy.
I stride out into the colosseum with every eye on me, but my opponent is not some great mage, some powerful elemental practitioner or even someone with a single magical trick they’ve honed into something deadly.
Instead, I find myself facing a null.
He’s a big null, with muscles that bulge like a bag filled with rocks, and he carries a sword larger than I am tall, but he’s still a foe without any magical talent to speak of, still an enemy far too weak to provide a real contest as I step out onto the sands to face him.
When the other gladiators today have fought hard, knife edged contests, it feels almost like an insult, both to me and to the watching crowd. I know Olivia has arranged the matches so I have the best chance possible of winning, but there are limits.
So I do the only thing I can with the situation: I make it into a lesson for the crowd.
I was planning to draw this contest out.
I would fight and dodge, displaying the skills I’ve developed in my time as a gladiator.
I planned to give them plenty of time to admire me, even to desire me, dressed as I am in the brief scale armor that barely protects me.
I thought I might even let them wonder if I was going to succeed.
I planned to show my opponent mercy, demonstrating my magnanimity in victory.
Not now.
Instead, as the large gladiator charges across the sands towards me, I lift one hand and draw on my magic, feeling it amplified still further by the stones beneath the colosseum.
I send a blast of violet magic out that wraps around my foe, lifting him from his feet, suspending him in the air.
I concentrate, and still more magic pours forth, raw force ripping into him.
I hold him there like a marionette while I disintegrate him, reducing him to little more than ash.
Silence follows, instead of cheers, but I assumed that would be the case. This is a lesson to the people, not an entertainment for them.
“Aetheria has long claimed it is about the combination of martial might and magical power,” I say, using another flicker of magic to let my voice carry, even as I use psychomancy to make sure my words hit home.
“This fool thought those two things were equal. He thought that, with enough strength in his arm, he could overcome any amount of magic.”
I look around at the watching crowd in the colosseum, wondering how many have held the same view.
“He was wrong. Magic is the great gift of Aetheria to the world, the power that flows from beneath it. Anyone can learn to swing a sword, but magic is a gift, a talent that goes far beyond such things. To send a foe like that against me is an insult. It will not happen again. In the next round, I hope I’ll get to give you all the entertainment you deserve, even as I show you what Aetheria should be like. ”
“Selene! Selene!”
I recognize Olivia’s voice leading the chant.
Maybe she’s realized the mistake she made, giving me such an easy foe.
She’s made a lot of mistakes recently. I don’t know if that’s the psychomancy I used on her tearing her mind apart, her own attempts to make the games what she thinks they should be, or just her stupidity. I don’t care.
I stalk from the sands, and now people are cheering for me as they should.
This is my chance to gain the support Tiberius never truly had.
The whole reason I arranged to fight in the games was to gain that popularity with the citizens, to have them follow me so blindly it won’t matter how I change the city around them when I come to power.
I head for the receiving rooms, throwing on my purple cloak as I go.
There are so many people waiting for me there, nobles and merchants, gang leaders and senators.
Each of them wants something slightly different.
Each faction has its own aims and desires, so that balancing them has always been a process requiring nothing less than total commitment and brilliance.
So far, I’ve achieved it. The senate is mine, or at least, enough senators to vote me into a position of power when the tournament is done.
They’ll call me First Senator initially, and then it will only be a short hop to empress.
The merchants will do what I require, bringing in goods and food.
The military wants the order of a single strong leader.
The resistance stands ready to be broken.
Everything is lined up nicely for my victory.
Or it was.
I heard the reaction of the crowd when Lyra won her bout, and my magic means I can feel some of the thoughts of those around me. Some are nervous about whether I’ll achieve all I claim. Others are wondering if they need to fall in line with me after all.
Bringing Lyra into the games was always going to be a risk, but I believe it’s a necessary one.
I’ve manipulated her so carefully to get her to this point, and I’m not going to stop now.
She’s a powerful magic user in her own right, one who won’t be content to stand by while I make Aetheria into a place where those with magic take their rightful place above all others.
By beating her, I eliminate a key source of opposition, even as I show the power magic gives me.
Just by fighting, she’s playing my game here, but I wonder now if she isn’t playing one of her own. I gave her back her magic because I want her to be a worthy opponent, but now I wonder if she’s more dangerous than I ever imagined.
No. I’m not a fool. I know what Lyra Thornwind is, and what she is not.
She’s the most powerful beast whisperer in a generation, but I trained long and hard to kill her kind before I even returned to Aetheria.
She isn’t an Archon, and can’t hope to match my power.
She won today, but the tournament will only get harder for her.
And if she comes through it all, I will kill her.
I’ll claim my victory, and the people will love me for it.
I’ll be their champion, and I’ll ride that wave of adulation all the way to Aetheria’s throne.
I will make Aetheria into the shining beacon of magic it was always meant to be and if Lyra wants to get in my way, I’ll kill her for it, out on the sands of the colosseum.