by Reiter
As the heats continued, the crowd cheered less and less. More effort was put toward discussing who would be the champion of these Games. What had started out as simple discourse soon evolved into aggravated disagreement. The heats were not half done when security was necessary to calm patrons as well as protect bystanders.
“I do so love a lively crowd," Nugar remarked. "Can one ever tire from the sight of passion?"
“I wonder if you are asking me, or testing me," Laylaria replied softly.
“I never tire of it!" Danatra shouted. “For one who carries himself in a supposed position of authority, you ask very silly questions."
"Danatra!" Laylaria snapped. She put her hands down on the arms of her chair in order to stand, but Nugar's hand quickly descended on top of hers to quell the moment.
"Let us simply say that I was testing you, but asking her," Nugar spoke softly into her ear. "You and I both know that anything taken out of moderation can be excessive, dangerous, and often quite harmful. I would expect an Iro-Gellvi to know better, therefore the test was passed.”
“And my Vi-Khan?” Laylaria whispered.
“She is a sector that I have not yet mapped,” Nugar smiled. "But the Stars are showing me more and more with every passing moment.
"And there is something I must tell you," Nugar said, looking down at the floor. “I have witnessed all I need to. My next words will come when this family has been gathered and addressed formally. That is, if–”
“You have my permission, Master Traveler,” Laylaria said quickly, surprising herself with the speed of the response. “Who am I to deny the Stars?"
“You presume I speak for the Stars?”
“I presume nothing," Laylaria replied. “Are you not a Traveler?”
“I am.”
“I am no threat to your ship, your ways, or your trek,” Laylaria stated clearly. “You have no need to deceive me, as lies are not your way. No, old one, what I make is not a presumption, but a conclusion… and, as the Stars would have it, a necessary act.”
“I do not perceive you as a threat," Nugar affirmed.
“Then you will have your opportunity to speak to the Kith Z’Gunok." Laylaria closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to say next, hoping to find the beginning measures of forgiving herself as well. “Can you save my child?”
“That is not for me to say,” Nugar stated, allowing a very warm smile to slowly form on his face. “But in whatever there is to be engaged know that I will try my utmost. I will most certainly try!"
** b *** t *** o *** r **
The cheers of the crowd escalated once the last heat had been run. There was little chance any of the last contestants would change the top five positions and the people were eager to see their top five posted officially. When the names were finally posted, there were cheers mixed in with shouts of disagreement. There was no clear first place assignment; Gantee and Vradwynn shared the top tier. In third place was Sythee Tel Orvo, a very proud and incredibly ambitious young Malgovi. These were his first Games, but unlike Gantee, this was his first orbi-term of eligibility. Though he was not considered as a likely winner of these Games, many believed they were looking at a champion in the making.
The fourth and fifth positions were three points apart in the scoring, with Adgurso Gan Zarrak taking the former and Quy Ganna Gura taking the latter. As the only female in the Final Round, her chances were considered to be slim as well. The House Adgurso was of close relation of the House MarrZo, but it had been made clear the young Malgovi had not been given preferential treatment. It was simply more proof to the argument that the Houses of Authority were in their places for good reason.
Most wanted to see Gantee’s name standing alone, but Dungias smiled and quickly turned to address his sibling. “Do not allow this to register as a blow against your standing,” he said softly. “If anything, the judges, in an attempt to lessen your standing, have actually aided in your argument. Remember, this will not work if you look anything less than confident.” Gantee did not say anything; he simply nodded and lowered his head. Dungias left his sibling to his preparations and started to make a few of his own. He made his way to the worktable he had restored from the brief yet destructive incident with his father. Everything on the table was considered legal to use in the Final Round of the Games, and Dungias meant to make the most of the options given.
The names were announced from fifth to first, so troubles did not arise until Vradwynn and Gantee were announced in a tie with one another. For some, it was a matter of pride. Gantee had excelled in all of the contests with, per chance, Vradwynn outscoring him in the very First Round. For others, the matter was more personal; all wagers made on the outcome on the Third Round were struck with no clear winner. It was often Malgovi custom that such bets were either dropped with both sides reclaiming their money, or the wage would simply be pushed forward into the next contest, which is what happened for the most part. Still, a measure for acquiring funds had been thwarted and that left many in a less than sociable state. The morale might have continued to decline without the burst of a very powerful photon over the arena. The magnitude could have only been generated by a Pedagogue. The shouting stopped as everyone looked around for the source of the burst.
“Members of the Royal House!” a voice shouted as another burst at the center of the arena floor signified the arrival of an unexpected visitor. Even kneeling, he was a tall and muscular figure of a Malgovi, fitted with the armour of an officer. He was without a helmet to cover the thick patch and tail of soft orange hair at the top of his head; the sides of his head had been shaved clean. “I greet thee!”
“Narwyss!” Duke MarrZo whispered, truly taken aback by the sight of the most noted Iro-Gellvu in recent history. Like Gantee, H’Dalvi Vior Narwyss had waited for the last year of his eligibility before competing in the Games. Still, he had entered every event he could and amassed seven straight victories, including Ishok, and all of that was before he became a Rangeman. “To what do we owe this honor, Commander?”
“Personal curiosity,” Narwyss replied.
“Please rise, good Rangeman,” First Princess commanded. She did not wish to chance that Warseth had more to inquire before the Malgovi would be allowed to stand.
“Thank you, your majesty,” he said with a bright smile and a twinkle to his gold eyes. “I have been told there is a participant of these Games who made a Rangemen miss. I have to come to see this wonder with my own eyes.
“My Prince and fellow Ishok,” Narwyss said, bowing to the First Prince.
“Fellow Ishok and Commander,” SonBa smiled down on one of his heroes who just happened to be a very good friend. “We do have such a gamesman and if you would be so kind, you may attend our booth and I will point him out for you.”
“Watching these Games with you is no reflection of my kindness, Your Majesty,” Narwyss said as he left the arena floor and flew up to the Royal Booth, propelled by a well-practiced iro-form. “… but the ever-bright iro of the Throne and her children.” Stepping forward, the Commander and First Prince did embrace, to the applause and cheering of the arena crowd.
“Two things,” SonBa spoke as he smiled. “How long were you churning up that photon?”
“And the second, my Prince?”
“Deceit? A new tactic for you, my mentor.”
“I could scarcely teach improvisation without having had an occasion to apply it myself,” Narwyss chuckled.
“Whatever do you mean, my Vu-Prin?” Sryla inquired, looking slightly confused.
“He did not just arrive as we were led to assume, my Vi-Prin. I felt Narwyss’ approach before the beginning of the Second Round,” SonBa advised his sister. But now I understand why the defenses have been put into place. How close was the Grenbi outbreak to TehShagu?”
“Sharp as ever!” Narwyss said, clapping down on SonBa’s shoulder. “It would seem you are still among the finest of my students, your majesty. And close enough
would be the given range of the Grenbi Horde, but it is no longer a pressing issue.”
“Well, recent or not, Exemplar, your chosen method of entry was timely,” SonBa admitted. “It would appear that the judges’ considerations were not well-received.”
“And for good reason, aging vermisars that they are!” Narwyss spoke loud enough for the judges to hear. SonBa’s eyes flashed with surprise at the Commander’s statement. “Well, I can’t have my Prince speaking out of sorts, now can I?” he whispered. “So if it falls to me to call a worm a worm, so be it!” The Royal siblings heard him, but it had been reserved only for their ears. They both smiled and returned to their seats as Duke MarrZo gestured to the judges, conveying that they should overlook the Commander’s comments. To the credit of his station, Warseth was even more deceitful than Commander H’Dalvi, genuinely looking to be on the side of his judges.
The five contestants marched out into the arena and they were presented in the same order that they were announced. The roar of the crowd grew with each person emerging from the staging area. Though they were announced together, Gantee made sure to walk out after Vradwynn, and somehow the cheering masses found the means to shout even louder. Gantee walked out and for the first time he made a formal acknowledgement of the Royal siblings and Duke MarrZo. The arena crowd praised his every movement; they cheered his every stride, glance, and salute. He had become more than their favorite; their love for him had passed beyond the boundary of fanaticism.
“Contestants of the Final Round,” the announcer called out and the patrons of the Games hushed one another – they did not want to be the reason for the delay of what promised to be a most interesting match. “Do you stand ready?”
Gura swallowed hard and steadied herself as she looked up and found her family. Their smiles gave her hope, strength and the ability to focus. “The Cadre Quy stands ready!” she shouted before spinning, dropping to her knee and pressing her hands, right atop left, to the ground. A circle of light erupted from the sands around the young, female Malgovi and shot up in a cylindrical form, bursting into scattered sparks ten trams above her head. As the light showered around her kneeling body, the crowd shouted their approval. With the sparks still falling, it struck Dungias that he had not considered anything beyond what his brother should say; they had not discussed at all what he should do.
With the cheering coming to an end, Zarrak stepped forward from his position and looked up into the crowd. All eyes were on him and his head lowered as his eyes closed. Light sparked to life in the palms of his hand. It was of a golden hue and gave a crackling sound. The heart-source of the light was so bright that his fingers could barely be seen as his hands began to shake.
“The noble House Adgurso stands… ready!” Zarrak cried, slapping his hands together on the ‘ready’. The burst of light obscured anyone’s view of him as a light-form of Zarrak, standing five trams tall, shouted the word ‘ready’ and slapped its hands together, making a third image, twelve trams tall and repeating the word ‘ready’ a third time. Upon each utterance, the voice carried more power and volume and the vibrations of the booming voice reached the arena stands. The hands of the largest iro-form Zarrak slowly parted and it rested its fists on its hips as the crowd once again started cheering.
“Most impressive!” Sryla gasped as she started clapping. “Once again, Duke MarrZo, your family and its well-chosen alliances set a very high standard.”
“And a high price,” Narwyss said in a hushed voice, leaning so that only the First Prince would hear his comment.
“No,” SonBa quickly replied. “He is simply using what has been given to him. Each contestant will be given ample opportunity to rest before the Final Round. Things have changed since our time in the arena, Commander.”
“You don’t say!” Narwyss said, quite surprised to hear of the changes to the Iro-Games format. “How unreasonably convenient! What a comfort it must be to know that no matter how big an oaf you make of yourself, you needn’t worry. After all, you will be allowed to recover from the perils of overly-enthused demonstration.”
“What was that, Commander?” Duke MarrZo inquired.
“Damn fine spectacle!” the celebrated Ishok quickly replied, flashing a bright smile. The First Prince passed a test of diplomacy, containing his desire to laugh out loud.
“Look, here comes the next contestant,” Sryla said, finally finding something about the Iro-Games she could enjoy.
The steps Orvo took were noticeably heavy as he pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. He acknowledged each of his fellow contestants and brushed back his blue hair. Taking his position in the center of the floor he lifted his hands with palm facing palm, with only a third of a tram between them. He generated a small point of light and steadied himself.
“The Kith Sythee stands ready!” he shouted as the point of light burst into flames, covering his body and changing color; going from orange, to red, to blue before dissipating. It was not nearly as impressive as the two preceding measures, but Orvo was still gifted with iro and received applause for his efforts.
“Don’t trip,” Gantee said as Vradwynn started to take his position. Those who could hear him chuckled as the masked contestant continued to walk. Vradwynn acknowledged Orvo, then Zarrak and Gura, turning his back to Gantee as he looked up at the crowd. He removed his mask to the surprise of everyone… for it was not a he who wore the mask, but a young, and quite comely, female Malgovi who quickly set her eyes upon the booth where her family sat.
“Tell me, Vu-Zai, is our Cadre ready?” she said spoke softly, using the Force iro-form to carry her voice up to the booth. She pounded her fist to the chest of her uniform and it fell away from her body. Padding and construct forms peppered the ground, accounting for her lack of speed and the stout frame. Her hair and eye color remained unchanged, though her actual hair was much longer than that of her disguise, reaching to her thighs. While many were taken with her true body, Dungias considered the shape that body had to be in to have carried such weight through three Rounds of the Games. Suddenly, Gantee could not be considered the fastest contestant in the Final Round.
Blaxidurn Gan Ceden stood up from his chair and started to speak when the Senior Judge cried, “Foul!” in a voice that echoed out beyond the walls of the arena. When all eyes turned to the judges’ booth, the Senior Judge looked to the announcer who quickly took to the speaking podium.
“We have a registered foul,” the announcer proclaimed. “No female child has been born to the Cadre Blaxidurn.”
“No,” Ceden replied. “But Vradwynn was removed from the Cadre-line. He was shay-spawn!” The murmurs started as the master of the Blaxidurn House lowered his head. “Vradara is a clone made from Vradwynn and she…” Ceden lifted his head enough to look on the female who had not moved since she spoke to him. “… she is my Vi-Khan!” The man spoke as tears welled up in his eyes. From the reaction of the attendees, they felt the same emotion Ceden was displaying: pride. It was a fortunate thing that no one cast their eyes toward Dungias, who felt nothing but rage. His hands clenched into tight, shaking fists at his sides and he closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of his anger. The continuing discussion actually helped to give him something else to think about.
“While the reason for the foul has changed, the foul remains, and the contestant from Cadre Blaxidurn must remove herself. Clones are not allowed to participate.”
“I think not!” a voice called out in protest. Eyes dropped to the arena floor to see Gantee moving from his position. “We are all aware of the rules of the Iro-Games, especially the fact of when they were written. However, unlike so many of our laws that grow with our people, the rules have remained, for the most part, unchanged since their inception.
“My formerly-masked competitor had to pass through the very same scans that the rest of us passed through,” Gantee declared as he turned to look at the young female. “Did you not?”
“Are you trying to lose?” Vradara asked in a hushed voic
e.
“Ask me again when these Games are concluded and you are bowing to me,” Gantee returned in a similarly low tone.
“I received the same scans,” Vradara reported aloud.
“Indeed!” Gantee shouted, returning his attention to the crowd. “And no agent of assistance was reported. I say we congratulate the Cadre Blaxidurn, praise what they have done, and let this gamesman continue on her path to losing to me!” Laughter mixed with applause as the announcer decided to speak.
“While we are moved by your generosity of spirit, the rules cannot be changed–”
“That is where you are wrong,” the First Prince interrupted. “Because, if my memory is accurate, any member of the Royal House can and may make any exception to any rule, should they see a need.” Conversation became so loud that the Senior Judge released a sonic pulse to quiet the crowd.
“Is that what you are doing, First Prince?” the announcer inquired.
“While I am First Prince, and proud to be in that position, we are in the company of a higher authority,” SonBa stated, gesturing to his Vi-Prin. “I cannot and will not speak for the throne in her presence.”
First Princess Sryla did not wait to be addressed. She was up from her chair and at SonBa’s side with both speed and grace. She touched the side of his face and smiled.
“In your light, our people will forget what it is to be in shadow,” she said softly. “I do love you, my Vu-Prin!”
“Then the light you attribute to me is only because of that love, my Princess,” SonBa replied, bowing deeply.
“Z’Gunok Tel Gantee,” Sryla called out, her sonic iro-form aiding her voice. “This gamesman stands the closest to your score and skill, does she not?”
