32. Rorax
The Tournament of Houses was the event of the century—of the quincentenary. The last Choosing took place well over 400 years ago, when the Eastern Guardian had been replaced. The Northern Guardian was always a woman, and only women were ever chosen by the gods to rule here, as the Western Guardian was always a man, but the Eastern Guardian could be either. The last Choosing was still remembered in songs as the Choosing of Terror, said to be one of the bloodiest, horrific Choosings of all time. Rorax prayed to K??n that her Choosing would earn no such nickname.
The Realms would talk about the events that happened here around campfires for years to come. Singers and playwrights would draw inspiration and embellish the brave deeds until it was cemented into the Realms’ history. It was the most wagered-on event in the Realms and even though the Choosing was a closed event to kings, witches, priests –and anyone who was not Gifted and from the Realms, many were rumored to slip their way around guards to attend.
It was the morning of the Tournament, and the energy in the air was palpable. Rorax looked over the half-empty arena, dragged in a deep breath through her nose, and smiled to herself.
The smell of early morning dew and freshly cut grass were some of Rorax’s favorite smells, and the excitement in the air was contagious.
Soon the air would also smell of sweat, blood, and competition, adding in a few more of Rorax’s favorite smells.
Contestars were only allowed to compete until the round before quarterfinals. From there the Houses would get to compete for their Selection orders. Whichever House won the tournament would get to choose the Contestar they wanted to represent first, while the losing House would choose their Contestar last.
Rorax bent down and wrapped her arms around her legs, pressing her forehead against her knees, stretching her hamstrings and glutes. She was competing in the first wave and had already completed her warmup run and spar with Jia. Now they were stretching out on the lawn, watching as the civilians who were camping around the castle filed into the stadium.
Most of them had been waiting hundreds of years for this Tournament. It was a once in a lifetime experience for some of them. All the nation’s greatest warriors came together to fight head-to-head. They placed bets, cheered on the warriors from their Realms, and wore their House colors.
Vendors were outside the arena, getting ready to cook meat, sweet buns, popcorn, and various other foods for the masses. Bet takers walked up and down the aisles of the arena, talking to spectators about the warriors in the tournament, taking bets and giving bet recommendations. Flags, one for each of the twelve Houses and one for the Realm, were erected on the top of the arena bleachers along with all the mini flags spectators were waving for their Houses.
The energy got more electric as the seats started to fill to capacity, and Rorax felt that energy in her blood, amping her up and making her yearn for a good fight. A few soldiers and Tournament entries were similarly stretching and warming up around her, and each were armed to the teeth.
Rorax recognized a handful of Kiniera’s House of Ice soldiers from their white and silver dragon sigil, a few of Elios’s soldiers in orange and black, and some soldiers from the House of Death wearing black and red: the dark, ebony skinned male soldier with the ten-pointed star scarred into his skin, and the tall woman with milky brown skin with long white braids pulled back in a thick ponytail were there as well. Only two House of Death soldiers would be competing then, and either those two were extremely formidable or the House of Death wasn’t planning on a victory today.
Narlaroca, from the House of Alloy, stood next to a man Rorax didn’t recognize, their heads close together as they murmured and watched the growing crowd, her green, metallic tattoos on her scalp glinting in the sun.
Briar and Enna arrived in the arena together and immediately spotted Rorax and Jia on the grass. Briar and Enna made their way over to them, both dressed in the same Contestar armor that Rorax was, dark brown lighting leathers trimmed in gold.
“Oh my god, we should have been here early to get ready.” Enna clasped her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t even think!”
“Don’t worry about it. You won’t be in the tournament long. You’ll make it one round, maybe two before you get disqualified.” Jia shrugged, one leg bent down in a crouch under her torso, the other fully elongated to the side to stretch the inner muscles of her leg. “Rorax and I, however, might be on the pitch all day.” Jia had entered the tournament to compete for House of Ice.
Enna nodded and made a face like Jia had a good point, but Briar put her fist on her hip, jabbing a finger at Jia. “Oi, just wait until I flip ya on your ass, Jia Frostguard.”
A tiny little wisp of a smile made it onto the corners of Jia’s mouth. The sight of that little sign of humor made something in Rorax’s chest warm with relief, but she rolled her eyes anyway.
“Briar you’re fucking up against Alloy in round one, and Enna is up against one of Kiniera’s men. Both of you need to start getting your bodies prepared. Take a few laps and at least get loose.”
Eventually the other Contestars started to appear, but none besides the girl from Foliage had a warmup routine or did any serious before-battle preparations.
The stands filled with people, and when it was time for the tournament to begin, Lamonte got on the stand where the Guardian’s throne usually sat at the end of the arena and started to boom to the crowd. “WELCOME TO THE TOURNAMENT OF HOUSES. YOU’VE ALL COME FAR AND WIDE TO SEE YOUR FAVORITE HEROS COMBAT EACH OTHER TO FIND OUT WHO IS THE TOUGHEST, THE MOST VICIOUS, THE MOST POWERFUL.”
A member of the House of Air stood next to Lamonte, boosting his voice, carrying the waves of sound, and amplifying it over the arena. The crowd rumbled, yelling, and booing under the swell of Lamonte’s voice.
Jia and Rorax made their way to stand with the other Tournament participants scattered along the wall of the arena. And then the fighting began.
Round after round, some of the best soldiers in the Realms fought toe to toe, blade to blade. Sweating and cursing and bleeding ensued as blows landed and were deflected.
Rorax knew it was her turn when Lamonte gave her a worried glance.
“THE NEXT ROUND WE HAVE RORAX GREYWOOD, ONE OF OUR CONTESTARS FIGHTING AGAINST NARLAROCA SALT FOR HOUSE OF ALLOY.”
Lamonte gave Rorax another worried glance, and Rorax realized Lamonte pitied her.
How insulting.
The crowd’s reaction ranged from pleased to angry. A mixture of boos for Rorax and cheers from the House of Alloy for Narlaroca filled the air.
“Don’t kill her,” Jia mumbled as Rorax moved off the wall and started moving towards the center of the arena.
“I’ll think about it,” Rorax responded over her shoulder, drawing her sword and a knife from her hair, keeping Glimr firmly in its scabbard.
Narlaroca met Rorax in the middle of the arena, her bright green eyes the same color as the bright green accents on her fighting leathers and the green of her tattoos on her shaved scalp. Narlaroca held a wicked looking spear in one hand, but nothing in the other.
“Good to see you, Contestar.” She gave Rorax a wicked smile, showing off her sharp white canines against her dark skin, as something cold and malicious sparked in her eyes.
“Always a pleasure,” Rorax responded flatly, gripping her knife harder in her hand.
“SAME RULES APPLY. THE FIRST TO TAP OUT OR SURRENDER WILL BE ELIMINATED FROM THE TOURNAMENT.” Lamonte’s voice boomed over the arena again. “NOW YOU MAY BEGIN IN THREE—” Narlaroca coiled on the balls of her feet, her bright green irises flashing brown.
Fuck.
“TWO.”
Rorax felt the earth tremble beneath her feet.
“ONE!”
Rorax lunged towards Narlaroca as the ground beneath her split, erupting three spikes to emerge from the ground.
She slid on her knees under Narlaroca’s spear as Narlaroca tried to stab her, and Rorax felt the air from the spear kiss over her neck.
Rorax slid until she was behind Narlaroca before pouncing to her feet and kicking out the back of Narlaroca’s knees.
Narlaroca collapsed to the ground but thrust her arm up at Rorax, and a spear of earth erupted from the ground.
Rorax swiped her knife at it, and just barely managed to slice the sharp tip of the spear before the now blunted end hit her in the chest with enough force to knock her back a few feet.
The breath whooshed out of her chest from the impact, and Rorax gasped for a few seconds before she forced air into her tight lungs.
Narlaroca climbed to her feet, gripped her spear tightly and threw it right at Rorax with a grunt. The spear rocketed toward Rorax with unnatural speed.
Rorax dodged the spear just in time to find Narlaroca on her with two wicked looking swords.
Rorax blocked a blow with her sword, then her knife, then repeated the pattern as Narlaroca swung her dual blades mercilessly at Rorax, trying to force the Contestar into making a mistake.
Rorax managed to catch one of Narlaroca’s blades between hers and with a tough pop, she yanked Narlaroca’s sword out of her hand.
Narlaroca used that free hand to slug Rorax in the face.
Rorax took a few steps back, her head ringing a bit, and Narlaroca used the space to her advantage, flicking her fingers up.
The earth started to tremble under Rorax’s boots, so she stepped back quickly. Another spike of earth, like a stalagmite, erupted from the ground, inches away from skewering her.
Narlaroca used her fingers to guide another spike of earth, then another, lashing out with her sword whenever she missed.
Rorax dodged and ducked and spun as she leaned away from Narlaroca, constantly maneuvering herself around the spikes of earth, and away from Narlaroca’s blade.
Rorax misjudged a spike, and as it erupted it scraped along her cheek, leaving a long scratch of blood dripping down her face instead of skewering her whole.
Rorax hissed in pain, and Narlaroca laughed. “Gotcha, you Ice-Born bitch.”
Rorax plucked up one of the throwing knives on her belt and threw it at Narlaroca. The woman leaned a shoulder back, the bright green on her uniform shining in the sun as she effectively dodged the knife. As she straightened, however, Rorax was there.
Rorax backhanded Narlaroca across the face with the blunt end of her sword, grunting with the effort.
Narlaroca’s whole body twisted around from the blow, and Rorax took the opportunity to sweep Narlaroca’s feet out from under her.
Narlaroca fell like a tree, and Rorax pressed her sword to Narlaroca’s neck hard enough to draw blood.
“Tap out, or I will kill you right here,” Rorax threatened, as Narlaroca bared her fang-like teeth up as Rorax. Narlaroca reluctantly reached up and patted her chest three times.
The crowd erupted.
Everyone in the crowd leapt to its feet and started making noise—cheering, screaming, booing, and chanting Rorax’s name.
“THE WINNER OF MATCH NUMBER TEN IS OUR CONTESTAR, RORAX GREYWOOD!” Lamonte boomed as the crowd pulsed with energy.
Rorax wiped the blood away from her cheek and took a huge step away from Narlaroca. The crowd’s energy pulsed again, and Rorax raised a tentative hand in acknowledgement as she made her way back to her spot next to Jia.
“You need some work on combating and reading Alloy magick, but nice job,” Jia told her, not looking away from Narlaroca across the stadium. Narlaroca pushed herself to her feet and stared daggers at Rorax. “You might have just placed yourself on Alloy’s radar.”
Rorax sighed and leaned against the arena wall, wiping more blood from her face. “Fantastic.”
Throughout the afternoon, Rorax continued to stand shoulder to shoulder with Jia as they watched match after match.
Lamonte had left the podium sometime in the late morning, and he carried a clipboard with the tournament matchups charted out on it everywhere he went, hollering orders to his men while simultaneously announcing who was fighting next.
“NEXT, IN DUEL NUMBER FIFTEEN, PLEASE WELCOME: JIA FROSTGUARD FROM HOUSE OF ICE.” Lamonte’s deep voice boomed around the arena with the help of his assistant from House Air. Fans stomped their feet and screamed with excitement. “FACING OFF AGAINST RIVER FELLOWS FROM HOUSE OF FIRE.”
Jia snorted, peeling herself off the wall next to Rorax, and prowled over to the center of the arena where she would meet her opponent.
Lamonte began the match, and Jia rolled around with the woman, tussling for a few minutes. The soldier was beneath Jia’s skill level and didn’t have as much experience as her, so Rorax was honestly confused as to what was taking so long—until Jia came back after finally taking her opponent out, dangling a little golden chain with a little red charm in front of Rorax’s face. Jia slipped the necklace into Rorax’s back pocket. “Got you a gift. I would keep it, but I don’t like red.”
Rorax snorted, rolling her eyes. Only Jia would steal a necklace during the Tournament of Houses.
Rorax’s next adversary in the next round came from the House of Weather, and predictably the first thing her opponent did was shoot a bolt of lightning at Rorax straight from his fingertips. She lunged to avoid the bolt of energy, throwing her body to the side. In a normal battle she would have just thrown Glimr straight for the man’s throat. But she didn’t want to kill anyone in the tournament today, and definitely didn’t want to expose herself as the Spine Cleaver, especially to the House of Alloy.
The man was gearing up for a second lightning strike when Rorax plucked a basic throwing knife from her belt and hurled it. It thudded into the man’s shoulder, jerking his body around and sending his next shot wide off mark.
Rorax sprinted towards him while he was off balance and lunged, just barely able to tackle and knock him unconscious before a third lightning bolt could roast her.
“You’ve got the aim of a blind rat,” she muttered to her unconscious opponent at her feet before she jogged back to her place next to Jia.
The packed crowd roared with pleasure. Rorax smiled slightly as the crowd chanted her name. Jia smirked at her as they hit their fists together. “Perfect.”
Lamonte silenced the crowd and announced the next round—a Contestar named Serena from the House of Foliage trotted to the center of the arena.
An Alloy Soldier, the Alloy soldier Narlaroca had been speaking to earlier in the arena, stepped forward.
It was a vicious battle. Serena was talented and had obviously trained just as much or more than the House of Alloy man. They fought over the grass, and the man kept the battle light, but Serena was out for blood. In one slick move, Serena cut the feet from underneath the House Alloy soldier and sliced her knife down.
She hesitated, just for a moment—but it was too late. Her knife pierced down into the soldier’s chest, and blood spurted everywhere. She must have hit an artery.
Some people in the crowded arena cheered, but most just stared in shock.
Deaths happened in the Tournament of Houses. It wasn’t unheard of, in fact it was even expected, but most people had the sense not to kill a member of the House of Alloy.
Narlaroca and a woman dressed in white—a healer—sprinted towards the man’s prone body. It must have been too late, however, because Narlaroca threw back her head and let out an agonized howl, collapsing onto her knees next to the bloody body as the woman in white tried to work.
Lamonte declared Serena the victor, and soldiers heaved the Alloy soldier’s body out of the arena. Narlaroca stared at Serena, death and promise in her eyes.
Serena didn’t care, and just stared back at her before turning and making her way back to her spot.
She had to pass by Rorax to do it, and on a high of adrenaline, she must have thought it was a good idea to face Rorax. Serena reached out a hand to Rorax’s chest and shoved.
Rorax grabbed her wrist and yanked her closer before twisting Serena’s arm and bending it behind her back. Then she shoved Serena face-first into the arena wall Rorax had been leaning on seconds ago. “Try to touch me again and I’ll sever every ligament in your shoulder,” Rorax growled in her ear.
Serena whimpered.
“You might feel powerful now, Serena,” Rorax lowered her head, so she was close to Serena’s ear, “but you just killed Narlaroca Salt’s lover. Her mate if I’m not mistaken.”
Serena’s body turned to ice under Rorax’s grip. “You’re lying.”
Rorax sighed. “I guess we”re going to find out, aren’t we?” Rorax stepped back and shoved Serena away from her. “You’re talented, little Foliage warrior, but you’re not nearly as deadly as Narlaroca. Watch yourself.”
Serena stumbled, turning back to Rorax with wide eyes.
Rorax just shook her head, then turned her back on her fellow Contestar and continued watching the tournament.
The man from the House of Death, with the ten-pointed star on his neck, cut down opponent after opponent. As he made his way back to his spot after knocking out his fourth match of the day, Rorax couldn’t help but feel admiration that he was so deadly and talented despite what her soldiers had done to him.
The other Death House opponent Lamonte introduced was Kaiya. The tall woman with long white braids and brown skin with the giant, glittering battle ax was an ace, too. She had the same arrogant swagger that Volla did as she stepped up and took her place in the center of the arena for her next match.
Kaiya had single handedly disqualified a House of Ice soldier, two House of Alloy men, and three House of Fire soldiers.
After they had been through all their opponents, Rorax turned to Jia. “What’s your report going to be?”
Jia breathed out a deep sigh. “Probably the same as yours. Kiniera is going to be disappointed with the showing from Dark and Fire. Ice had a great showing, and so did Death. Death only used two out of their five possible entries, and they’re still kicking everyone’s ass.” Jia slowly turned her head to look Rorax right in the eye. “I hate to tell you this, Ror . . . but if you can’t convince Kiniera to change the king’s mind about choosing you as House Ice’s Contestar, you’re screwed.”
Rorax’s chest tightened.
Rorax looked over her shoulder, searching for the House of Death Emissary in the crowd—only to find the lieutenant, the prince, and Milla already staring at her with assessment in his eyes.
Unease coiled in her stomach. The prince and Milla both flitted their gaze back to the center of the arena, but the lieutenant held her stare.
Rorax scowled, and he scowled back.
Jia followed Rorax’s gaze across the arena. “If you could fix your shit with him, he would be an even safer bet than Kiniera. He brought better men here than Kiniera did.”
Ayres and Rorax looked away at the same time when someone screamed loudly from the center of the arena.
The same soldier from Death she had been watching earlier, Kaiya, severed a ponytail from the back of a Fire soldier’s head with her battle ax, and then tossed it over her shoulder into the dirt.
“I think the soldier that has the ten-point star—the deaf one—has been gifted by Asepp.” Jia used her chin to point to the man standing across the arena, with his arms folded over his chest as he watched his female counterpart battle in the arena.
“Why do you think that?” Rorax asked, looking him over. Asepp was the god of House Alloy, the god of metal and earth. He would have very little interest in a deaf Death-Born.
“He moves like he can feel you through the ground, like even though he can’t hear any movements, someone is whispering instructions to him.”
“What about her?” Rorax asked, jerking her chin to the woman who was now forcing her opponent to tap her shoulder three times.
Jia shook her head, leaning back against the wall. “No, she’s just good. Not incredibly gifted magickally, but her technique is flawless. She . . .” Jia swallowed hard, avoiding Rorax’s gaze. “She fights the way Volla . . . did.”
They sat in silence, watching as Kaiya was crowned the victor by Lamonte’s booming commentary, the rubies embedded in her battle ax gleaming in the sun.