35. Chapter 35
Chapter 35
Zeph
L oris still isn't speaking to me. I was able to corner Taegan about it once, and he basically reiterated what Loris said: that he has his reasons for entering the tournament, and he'll reveal them to me when he's ready.
I don't like being left in the dark like this, but what other choice do I have? It's time for the next challenge, and I'm due in the arena soon. Maybe I'll be able to get something out of him there.
Pushing flames to the sconces in my home, I am surprised to see the fire blast through quicker and stronger than before. It feels effortless, with barely any need for intentions. Strange.
Today I need a little liquid courage for the tournament, so I've got a nearly full glass of liquor on my side table as I get dressed. It's going to be inherently more dangerous today, and while I'm not keen on anyone dying, it's a very real possibility. It's churning my stomach that it could be Loris.
I don't want anyone to die, but I certainly couldn't live with myself if he did.
I check my beard in the mirror to ensure it is still neat and then style my auburn hair back. The tattoos along my neck and chest stick out against my light skin and I wonder if it's time to add to them. I've considered mixing in those drops of blood and ice magic I modeled Viola's necklace on. The contrast of that with the black of my existing adornments could be striking.
I slip on an emerald green tunic and leave it untied, the soft red curls of my chest barely visible in the notch at the neck. My mind wanders to Viola and the overwhelming thought of what it would feel like to have her trace the tattoos that run from my neck down my torso with her tongue, to dip farther down once they stop.
My body is a big fan of that line of thought, but I have to rip myself out of it, or I will never leave my bedroom. If I do not get moving, I will be late for my own damn tournament. I adjust myself in my undershorts and slip into a pair of tan linen pants and soft loafers. I will not be spending any time on the arena floor today, so I can dress a bit more casually this time, thankfully. I swipe the Mistflow talisman from the table beside my bed and slip it into my pocket for safekeeping.
Cirrha and Bracken don't join me for the walk down this time, no doubt because Bracken is putting the finishing touches on the course.
While two days ago, the walk was quiet, this time, citizens are already making their way down, hoping to get the best seats possible. Himureal reported that he had a significant increase in attendance when he held court after the first challenge and was incredibly pleased with me, so it appears this is paying off.
I shouldn't preen on his praise, but I do. He is a God, after all, even if most of the time I'm biting my tongue not to show how uncomfortable he makes me. Is this just the nature of Gods? Does their power cause them to be intimidating and cruel? Or is that just who Himureal has become?
If she is a God, will Viola be changed when I see her again?
I enter the arena, move through the tunnels toward the staging area, and see Himureal standing with his arms loosely clasped behind his back. "Frostweaver," I say with reverence.
He turns to face me and smiles down at me. Today, his hair is braided in three sections down his back, and his smile is soft and genuine. His grey silk shirt is barely buttoned, most of his chest on display, and his black pants are tight around his legs. "Zeph, it's good to see you, high priest."
"You look happy," I balk. My eyes widen and I start to backtrack. "I'm sorry that was -"
He interrupts me. "I am happy. Happy." Himureal traces his hands down one of his braids. "In addition to getting more belief and devotion after the last challenge, which has increased my strength, I think we are very close to getting Viola here of her own accord."
My breath catches in my throat. "How? How did you do it?"
"Now, I can't tell you all my secrets, Zeph. Just know that I have learned that Viola does not truly fear me. She desires knowledge and growth, which only I can give her. The rest of it is not a priority." His voice is soothing, like warm tea after being outside in the cold.
"You really believe that? That we can get her back with no possibility of war?"
He puts his hand on my shoulder, pointed nails digging into my flesh. I hide a wince at the sharp pain. "I do, high priest. Viola has had a hard life, as I am sure you know. She has had no one to care for her and push her down the correct path for some time. She knows that it can be me. Should be me. It's just a matter of time. My daughter will return to me." Himureal turns from me and begins walking back to the stands. He shouts, without turning around, before he's out of sight, "Plus, she responds better to care than aggression, as I'm sure you've realized."
The arena has been transformed into a massive obstacle course of magical creation.
The crowd is full of every citizen of Ytopie, and all are gasping and pointing at different parts of the course, no doubt trying to determine how far they would get on it.
Cirrha, dressed in a striking pair of orange shorts with an ivory blouse, is still shaking her head at me over the danger of it, but the Frostweaver looks positively giddy from his vantage point in the stands. He's sitting up straight, with an ankle crossed over his knee and his hands resting on the arms of the throne, eyes eagerly trained on the competitors who have already lined up around the course.
I can't help lingering my eyes on Loris. Today he has ditched his boots and is completely barefoot but wears fingerless gloves on his hands. He's shirtless again, with the same lightning painted across his body as during the target tournament. He has ditched his strappy pants for a pair of tight-fitting black shorts. Multiple people in the crowd are calling his name and swooning over him, and I can't say I blame them. The fierce look on his face tells everyone that he is the one to beat.
The other contestants were not as strategic in their clothing choices, but the moment they lay eyes on the obstacles, they start shedding shoes and loose clothing as well.
With a nod from Cirrha, I watch her magic drift lazily through the air, and I turn to address the crowd. "Welcome back to the second event of the Tournament of Champions! We are down to only twelve potential champions for challenge number two – the bravery test! One cannot expect to be worthy of being called the Winter Champion if you are not the bravest, so what better way to prove that than a dangerous course designed to push you to your limits?"
The citizens of Ytopie go wild, cheering on the contestants just like they do from their homes and at the tavern during the Race.
If the Race has proven anything, it's that Ytopie loves a show, especially a violent one.
"We hired a team of highly skilled Geomancers to build this tower you see here." I gesture to the thin tower of jutting rocks that tower over us into the air. "The first task is for our competitors to climb to the top of this tower and slide down the smooth rock ramp. Unfortunately for them, the ramp does not drop them off on the grass. We can't let it be that easy, can we?" The assembled citizens cheer loudly, eager for a dangerous show. Their feedback bolsters me, and I begin to feel the intoxicating buzz of their undivided attention. "Instead, the slide narrows into a bridge that will lead our contestants over a pit of fire!" More screams from the crowd, and the fire in the pit surges slightly. "So try not to fall, okay contestants?" I give them my best impression of an amused grin and an exaggerated wink.
Walking along the arena I point out the next section of the course. "After you escape the fire pit, you still haven't escaped the bridge because it will carry you right over a basilisk pit. Fall in, and you're eaten, look down and make eye contact with it, and you're dead. So I hope by this point you don't need to watch your feet as you move!" Loads of deep gasps from the crowd hit my ears at that, as I knew it would. From the corner of my eye, I see the competitors stiffen.
I fought Cirrha and Bracken on the basilisk. They wanted something less dangerous. I explained to them that if it were just something they didn't need to fall into, it would be the same as a fire pit and a worthless portion of the challenge. In this scenario, they can't look down, which means the challenge changes.
Himureal's face is stretched into a grin that makes my stomach flip. He looks too happy that the potential for death is so high.
I pull my eyes away from the bloodthirst God. "If our competitors make it over the basilisk pit, then they are rewarded with a hedge maze! Nothing in this maze will harm you, but there are multiple dead ends, and the flora is uniquely designed to make your exit as difficult as possible. And who knows? A Spring Seasonale may be hiding inside to cut off your path if you're too close to leaving." I grin widely and give the audience another goofy wink.
I climb the stairs up the stands, stopping right in front of where Himureal is sitting again. I raise my eyebrow, and he nods, rising to his feet.
"Today's challenge is significantly harder than the last, which is by design." His booming voice fills the arena, and every eye is on him, every mouth quiet. "This course is designed to weed out only the bravest of you all. It is all not about skill." He raises both arms out wide. "This is how you conquer fear. Or will you let it conquer you?" The crowd roars, cheering his final words. The smile that crosses his face is almost like he's drunk on their approval.
"One last thing!" I call over the crowd. "If any contestants want to leave now before the course starts, please do." I wait for a beat and am shocked to see two Tempsests, a Spring Seasonale and the Dryad, walk out of the arena, shaking their heads. I track them as they go, and I continue speaking once they're fully out of the arena. "Additionally, if you wish to forfeit and be removed at any point during your attempt, please use your magic to call our attention, and we will extract you."
With a final glance at the contestants lined up in order of participation, Loris being the last in line, of course, I raise my arms about my head. "Then let the game begin! "
First up is a Bayal named Kon, with a low brow and dark hair, who is built lean and smooth. I've never much liked him or his arrogant attitude, but his aptitude for Fire is well-known. Right out the gate, he struggles with the climb up the rock tower. Eventually, he makes it to the top, and before he slides, I watch him use his magic to pull the flames of the pit to nothing more than smoldering ashes. He barely lands on the bridge, but his magic saves him from the burns. Kon moves over the basilisk and walks with his eyes squeezed tight, but he's wobbling. At one point, his foot slips, and he falls to one knee, and the crowd gasps. He stays down on his knee, eyes shut, and shimmies the rest of the way across the pit. It may not be a physically imposing way to complete the task, but he does it all the same.
As Kon makes it to the maze, he's feeling pretty confident and tries to burn it down. Unfortunately for him, it all grows back almost immediately. Puffs of smoke floating out of it are visible regularly, but nothing comes out of it. After watching for twenty minutes as he tries to navigate it, I begin to give up hope that he'll find his way out. But just as I am about to send a signal to look for him, Kon stumbles out, full of scratches and with charred clothes. He makes his way to the finishing spot and pumps his fists in the air to a wild crowd.
It wasn't a perfect attempt by any means, but he completed it, and that was all that was required.
Unfortunately, it doesn't go that well for everyone.
A spritely Spring Seasonale falls just a few steps from the top of the rock tower, crashing to the ground with a loud thud. She lives, but it will take a long time to heal her properly, so she has been removed from the competition.
Next, a Summer Seasonale follows the same thought process as Kon and probably would've been fine if not for the fact that he slips over the basilisk pit and looks down. His death is swift, and he joins the basilisk in the pit.
Everyone holds their breath when a young Tempest, probably no older than twenty, steps up next. She easily scales the rock tower, and as she slides down the ramp, I watch her use her Air magic to cocoon herself in a pocket of wind. She is able to glide across the bridges easily, and while she spends nearly forty-five minutes in the maze, she escapes mostly unscathed and joins Kon at the finishing spot.
The second Bayal to attempt the course had to be rescued from the maze after well over an hour of being stuck in it simply because the crowd grew restless without entertainment. He was disqualified.
The Geomancer, who is a small man with a long beard, makes quick work of the tower and even the ramp, landing on the thin bridge with deft feet. The fire does not seem to bother him, but I can see his face turn green as he comes up to the basilisk pit. Before he begins the journey across, he rips off his shirt and ties it around his eyes so he does not risk opening them at all, an ingenious move no one else has done so far. The biggest shock of his competition, though, is the fact that he moves the earth from under the maze, creating a tunnel that he just walks through to the end .
That one has a lot of uproar from the crowd on whether or not it is considered cheating since he did not go through the maze, but after deliberation Himureal rules it was well within the rules and a very clever solution.
With only two contestants remaining and just three who have qualified, tensions are high as the Spring Seasonale starts.
I know him from a few interactions with Plume, even if he and I aren't close. Oleander has his burnt orange hair tied up and his hands and feet bare. He struggles on the rock climb and spends longer than I would have expected gaining his breath before he slides down the ramp. He uses Air magic to cushion him from the flames as the Tempest did. Right before he moves to cross the basilisk pit I see that familiar mottled gray Beast magic floating into the pit. With the magic circling in the pit, no doubt around the basilisk, his shoulders droop with relief as he crosses with his head held high.
However, it appears his magic is not working because the basilisk knocks his leg with its tail, and he plummets into the pit. We hear screams for just a moment .
We have unintentionally put on display for the entire city that our magics are not as strong as they used to be. A Springle Seasonale of Oleander's caliber should have no issue controlling a single basilisk. A guilty knot forms in my chest. Whispers are rising in the crow, and I look to Cirrha for guidance on how to fix this before it gets out of hand. She points at her mouth, a silent command for me to speak.
"People of Ytopie! We are down to our final contestant. You may know him from his stomping around at the Hasty Butcher, but I know him as a lifelong friend of mine. Let's watch as the final competitor, Loris, an accomplished Bilksem, attempts the bravery challenge."
The crowd quiets and turns their attention to the Bliksem, who somehow manages to look even more bored than he did before the target challenge.
He makes quick work of the tower, the fingerless gloves giving him an extra boost of grip. When he reaches the top, he looks around and surveys the arena. He doesn't take the ramp immediately, and I lean forward against the railing of the stadium as if I would be able to see the plan that has formed in his head.
Without warning, a crack of lighting blows from him, bright gold Storm magic radiating through the arena, and lands directly in the basilisk pit. Two smaller bolts follow, and when smoke rises up from the pit, he nods his approval and takes the ramp down.
That bastard killed the basilisk.
The crowd is going wild, having figured out his plan, and truthfully I am too. He eliminated that threat entirely.
Loris has such long, bony limbs I worry he will struggle with the thin bridge, but he just drops to a crouch and moves forward with his arms held to his sides for balance. I notice a bit of reddening on his skin from where the flames lick him, but he doesn't even flinch. He easily crosses the basilisk pit in the same position.
As he runs up to the maze, he looks for a moment like he could be stumped, but I know him better than that. He walks slowly into the hedges, and from my position, I can see into the maze that he is leaving small pockets of lightning every few feet to mark his path. It's not crackling, not firing. It's sitting there, little balls of power, almost as if it's a part of the grid.
After noticing him dropping these strategically all over the maze, it hits me. He is actually building a grid. He spends fifteen minutes going every which way he can, dropping the lightning as he does before he brushes off his hands. With a look up, he pulls a bolt of lightning from his magic and drives it into the grid, which flares to life with a loud buzz. It hits all over the maze at once, the heat from it singing and burning through the maze quicker than the Spring can build it back up.
With every move he makes, he adds another connection to the grid, burning more and more of the maze up until he exits victorious.
He's got small burns on his torso and arms from the fire pit, and his fingers are blackened from the electricity of his magic, but he turns to the crowd, and they go absolutely feral in their celebration of him. Even Himureal is applauding, nodding his approval at Loris.
Loris stays straight-faced and looks at me briefly. I swear I see a flash of longing before he turns his attention to anywhere but me.
I clear my throat, "And there we have it! Challenge two is completed, and our twelve is now four! Kon the Bayal, Rhye the Tempest, Welle the Geomancer, and Loris the Bliksem will compete here in three days for the title of Winter Champion and a seat on the board of Patricians!"
The crowd packs up and files out of the arena, chattering and laughing even though two of their own died and a third was gravely injured.
I attempt to grab Loris, not just to congratulate him but to get him to finally talk to me again, but he brushes me off. "Loris, you can't ignore me forever!"
"I have nothing to say to you. We can talk when I win."