by C G Gaudet
Hardly another human in sight. All the eyes watching our treasure are from elves, sprites, goblins, orcs. I’m pretty sure I even saw a brownie, though I’m not entirely sure what they look like.
The buildings around range from being as small as my hand to the one the giant walked into and beyond. It feels like a painting where the artist doesn’t quite understand perspective.
“Hello there.” A chipper voice startles me out of my stare. “You look to be new to the city. May I help you?”
Hovering in the air a few feet above my head is a pixie. Her wings are a blur of sparkling motion and her wide smile reveals sharply pointed teeth. Her entire body, wings and all, is shorter than my forearm, and she looks as delicate as a butterfly, though those teeth tell a different story.
“We’re fine,” I try to say, but Talie speaks over me with an equally cheerful voice.
“Thank you,” she says. “That’s very kind. We’re in need of a safe place to store the vast treasure we just procured, if you have any suggestions. Also, a place to eat and drink would be lovely. We’ve had a bit of an exciting day.”
I press my hand into my forehead as the pixie’s face lights up at the words “vast” and “treasure.” There goes our fortune.
“I know just the place for your treasure,” the pixie tells us. “Let us help you get there.” She whistles and two orcs about the same height as Kesarre at his most recent size jog out of the crowd and bow to the pixie. They grab rusted handles on either side of the chest and lift it with a uniform grunt. “As for the food, you might need to speak to someone more your size for suggestions. I’m afraid you wouldn’t find my favorite spots very filling.”
Talie and Willow happily follow the pixie and her orcs into the crowd. When I turn to Jameson to lament on our situation, he’s no longer standing next to me. He’s not following the others either. I twist to find him and catch sight of his back as he enters a building with an icon of a bottle with blue liquid carved into a sign by the front door.
Of course he’d go off on his own. This city is huge, and we have no meeting spot, but off they go in opposite directions.
As I look around for some sort of landmark I can try to use as a guide to find the others again, I notice a face staring down at me from above the rooftops. I take a step back to try to understand what I’m seeing, and a bit of the neck and shoulders of the enormous statue reveals itself, towering over the entire city. It must be at least six buildings tall, and her carved eyes pierce into me with a level of judgement I’ve never known before.
Instinctively, I recognize the statue to be the patron goddess of this land, and though I don’t know who she could be, I instantly dislike her. I press my hand to my chest, realising it’s thudding particularly rapidly and force myself to look away. It’s just a statue. There’s no reason to be intimidated by it, even if it was clearly built to do just that. Proof she’s always watching over the lands and seeing everything you do.
Its presence likely explains why Kesarre didn’t come with us, even for a moment, since the entire city is probably claimed under her name. Though that didn’t keep him from talking to me in the cathedral before, so maybe he’s just up to something and doesn’t want me to know.
I hold my breath, half expecting, half hoping he’d reply with a mischievous laugh, just so I know he’s still there. Silence.
Well, good. I never wanted anyone inside my head anyway.
I glance back up at the statue and try to ignore the empty pit opening within my stomach. I’ve spent my entire life alone. I don’t need him around now. I don’t need anyone.
Though I do want my money.
I hurry after the ogres that have made it a remarkably far distance in the short time I was staring at the statue. Hopefully Jameson will find us later.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Champion Battles
I expect to have to fight to get my money back, but the pixie and her ogres take us to a legitimate looking bank, do a proper count of our treasure and hand us officially sealed documents listing all of the contents of the chest and a guarantee of its safety written within. Or at least, Willow assures me that’s what’s written. It still looks like scribbles to me.
“You must be here for the champion battles,” the pixie cheerfully says to the others.
I’m only half listening as I continuously glance over my shoulder at the treasure left behind. I still have some gold in my pockets to purchase what I need and then some, but it still feels wrong to leave the rest behind.
“I’ve never heard of the champion battle,” Talie admits, with a glance to Willow.
Willow thinks for a moment and then shakes her head. “Odd. Me either. Perhaps it’s a different sort of champion.”
“Oh no.” The pixie spins in the air leaving a spray of shimmering dust in her wake that Willow and Talie walk straight into without flinching. I bat it away from my face, not convinced it’s not some sort of dandruff or sweat she’s throwing at us. “It’s certainly the same sort of champion, assuming of course that you are champions of a god.”
Talie’s shoulders pull back and begins smiling proudly, a look quickly matched by Willow.
“I am Talie,” she announces loud enough a pair walking past glance in our direction with a curious expression, “white knight and champion to the goddess Regine.”
“And I’m Willow,” Willow announces even louder, “Scholar and champion for the god Kesarre. May his blessing be with you.”
Okay, I understand her desire to convince others to follow Kesarre to give him more strength but shouting it out like this feels a bit odd, and not at all helpful to the cause. I shrink back in hopes of pretending not to be involved in this conversation. They seem to have forgotten I’m with them since none of them so much as glance in my direction.
“You work for different gods?” The pixie unsuccessfully attempts to hide her surprise. She quickly spins in another circle and by the time she’s turned her back to us, her smile has returned, and another spattering of her sparkling essence is in our faces. “How interesting.”
I cover my mouth and nose to keep from breathing the stuff in and glare at the pixie. How would she like if I spit in the air in front of her and forced her to fly through it? It feels about as rude to me.
“So, these champion battles,” I say through my fingers, earning a glare from the pixie at my apparent rudeness, which I ignore. “I’m assuming it’s a battle between champions. Anything more specific you can tell us about them.”
She spins again, and I swear this time she’s attempting to get her dust in my face out of spite. The others don’t seem to notice or care. They’re happily walking along as though all is well. Talie’s even started fingering her sword’s hilt as though she’s eager to draw it in this busy street, while Willow hugs her book to her chest with the same excitement I often catch myself feeling while holding my pillow.
“The champion battles were the clever creations of our goddess.”
The pixie leads us through an archway with vines climbing up the walls and into an open garden boxed in by several buildings, but allowing for a much better view of the statue I saw earlier. From this angle I can see the woman is wearing carved fabric that clings to her slim frame and her arms are raised in what was likely meant to represent a welcoming embrace, but for some reason I can only imagine her grabbing hold of a person and crushing them with her enormous stone arms.
“They are a way to allow the champions to fight each other in the name of their gods without causing damage to civilians and property.”
I think back to the explosion that destroyed my house and should have killed Willow, and I’ve got to admit that having a safer way to battle isn’t a terrible idea. Still, I don’t feel comfortable about the way the pixie is talking to us. It feels like a sales pitch if I’ve ever heard one.
“Through her generosity and magic,” the pixie continues while leading us through another archway, “not only are people protected from the battles, b
ut they’re able to watch and cheer for the champion of their choice.”
A strange pressure touches me as I step forward to the other side of the arch. It lasts only a second, but the sense in my mind that’s triggered when I’m able to read people’s names and abilities warns me of the magic I’ve stepped through. Not that I need the warning. As soon as we leave the serene garden space, my ears are assaulted with cheers and jeers. I grip my pillow tight, as what I thought was going to be more gardens or maybe some sort of building turns out to be stadium seating meant for thousands of onlookers, and nearly every seat appears to be taken. Any space where people can stand and watch whatever is happening in the pit below are doing so as well.
The pixie leads us forward to a small wooden fence meant to keep people from falling into the deep dirt pit below just in time for us to watch a knight stab a blade through a caster’s weak armor. The caster lets out a short cry of agony before dropping to the ground. A heartbeat later, the majority of the crowd are on their feet, cheering as the winning knight raises his arms in triumph, working the audience into a frenzy.
“Welcome to the champion battles.” The pixie’s sudden spin finally gets me in the face with a blast of her dust. I try to cough it away, but a strange calmness settles onto me, relaxing me from the top of my head slowly down to the bottom of my feet. An unwanted smile pulls at my lips along with a sense of everything being just grand, that I know isn’t how I actually feel. The damned pixie’s dosed me with some sort of calming magic and I have no idea how to resist it. I’m not even sure I want to resist.
Glowing letters form over her head slowly as though some illusion is being lifted now her magic has control over me.
Aliz – Champion of Olerra
Level 2 Collector
Abilities
Action: Steal
Action: Manipulate Senses
The pixie’s eyes appear to glow with the same red light as the words above her head, though I wonder if that’s not the powder she placed on me making me see odd things that aren’t there.
“I wish you the best of luck in your coming skirmishes,” the evil pixie grins.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Friendly Fire
The ground in front of me shatters, spraying dirt into my face. I only manage to escape the blast because of a use of my quick step ability that allows me to move two feet back at three times my usual speed. Maybe it’s how close I am to being turned into dust, or maybe it’s the pebble in my eye. Either way, I’m suddenly a little more aware of my surroundings and surprised to find myself in the middle of a pit facing off against a champion.
I rub the filth out of my eye and glance around, feeling stunned. Maybe not the best time to be bewildered since things are exploding on either side of me, but I need a second to understand the roar filling my ear. Thousands of people look down on me from outside of the pit. It’s impossible to tell who they’re cheering for, but since they’re staring in my direction, I can only assume it’s at least partially for me.
“I don’t want to do this,” a timid voice barely reaches me over the noise of the onlookers. “I’m really very sorry.”
I turn to the source and find Frejha standing a dozen paces away pointing her staff directly at me. Light swirls around the gemstone and a warning goes off in my head that forces me to move even though I’m not entirely sure I know what I’m doing.
The first shadow I see, and the only one I can find, is the one cast by Frejha from the flood of fairy lights from above us. I use it to move behind her.
“Hey,” I say. “You’re not dead. That’s nice.”
I’ve already backflipped out of her reach by the time she turns to look at me, a move that surprises even myself and encourages an excited cry from the crowd.
She turns her staff toward me once more, but the light flickers as though she’s unsure about her next move.
“Sorry,” I say when moving behind her once again. “But what’s happening?”
I rush away from her to the steep embankment of the pit and twirl the scythe I barely notice is in my hand until it’s already spinning. It’s as though my body is moving on instinct rather than my thoughts, which I suppose is good. I get the feeling I would already be dead if it wasn’t.
“Jenny?” Frejha looks so relieved she might start crying any moment. Her staff drops slightly, the light disappearing entirely. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake. You are awake, right? I’m not dreaming this, am I?”
I sense a shift in the attitudes of the onlookers. What was joyful cheering moments before has changed to frustration and bloodlust. I’m not entirely sure I know how I can sense what such a mass of people are feeling, but I can. The energy feels dangerous, as though it might be turned toward us as sharp as a knife at any moment.
The thought brings my eyes up to a figure that towers over the entire battle pit. For a moment I think it’s a slightly smaller version of the statue I saw when we entered the city. But it’s not a sculpture. The goddess Olerra stands watching over our battle. She’s as tall as the stadium seating, nearly twenty feet, with a white dress and blond hair that billows around her despite there being no wind. Her wide, beautifully disarming smile slowly shifts into a frown that causes my blood to run cold.
I need to get her attention off us. This knowledge floods me as sure as if it were a warning from Kesarre, though no sound of his voice fills my mind. As much as I hate the intrusion, I would love nothing more than for him to talk to me right now and tell me everything’s going to be okay. Better yet, teleport me far from this place.
He’s not coming. I know this as sure as I know Olerra will come down here and rip Frejha and I apart with her bare hands if we don’t continue fighting properly. I need to deal with this on my own and quickly.
Frejha is still babbling something I’m not listening to when I step into her shadow once more. She doesn’t even turn to try and find me this time because she’s so focused on telling me about how happy she is to see me. I spin my scythe in my hand, shifting it into a dagger as it turns. The crowd loves the move as I knew they would, and I feel a shift in the energy of the onlookers as a balance is returned to their bloodlust.
“Trust me,” I say.
With a flourish for the crowd, I drag the blade across her throat.
She gasps in shock and reaches up for my arm, but I’m able to dash away before she can grab me. From an arm’s length away, I give her a signal with my eyes to drop. Her hand touches her wound and comes back covered in blood. She stares at it for a moment, and then at me, her eyes huge with betrayal. Until she realizes she’s not dying. I barely took three points off her health. She should have plenty left, even as a caster. Another signal with my eyes and she catches on.
With a murmured “Oh,” and an overly dramatic faint she could have done without, she falls to the dirt and lays prone.
I roll my eyes at her and then lift my hands to our audience and let out a triumphant roar. The explosion of excitement that follows leaves me with a strange hollowness in the pit of my stomach. I’d never thought of myself as being one to crave attention but this feels right. The situation is wrong, but I could stand here worshiped by these people for the rest of my life and be happy. I have to remind myself that they aren’t cheering for me, not really. This is all a joke.
A lithe man nearly twice my height with pointed ears and skin a soft green hue that reminds me of spring buds walks down from the crowd on a ramp I’m sure wasn’t there a moment ago. He holds a staff up and for a moment I’m sure he’s about to attack me. Then the magic flows around his own throat and when he speaks, the sound booms over even the shouting from above.
“We have a winner!” He points to me and I spin my blade out into its scythe form to once more draw applause. “Very impressive showing from the champion of Kesarre. I foresee a great future for this champion, what do you think?”
The cheering is near deafening and for a moment I forget about the show I’m putting on and pretend they care ab
out me. I feel myself stand a little taller, my shoulders rolling back in a way I never felt before. I think I’m even smiling.
“The goddess saw what you did.” The elf-man’s voice is no longer magicked to spread to the entire stadium when he speaks to me. In fact, he keeps his words quiet enough while wearing a smile, I’m sure he’s trying to prevent anyone other than me noticing anything’s wrong. “She’s not pleased. The fights are meant to be to the death.”
I make a show of waving my scythe around in a flourish to rile them up a little further before speaking to the man. “I thought we were meant to give her people a show. Have we not done that? Or would you like the caster to stand up and admit the entire battle was fake from the start.”
The green of his cheeks flushes a little darker than the rest of him and he nods his head for me to leave. I toss Frejha over my shoulder with an ease I’m not expecting, though her height still means her feet are dragging on the ground. As I turn toward the ramp, the elf gives me a quick warning before raising his voice with magic once more.
“Don’t think you’ve won against the goddess,” he says. “She’s only being lenient because it’s Her will.”
I try to think of a witty response, but the best I can come up with is along the lines of “I know you are, but what am I?” and I don’t think that really works in this situation. Nevertheless, I feel a little puff of pride as I make my way up the ramp with Frejha over my shoulder to pass only a few feet from the goddess. Her eyes narrow on me for a moment in annoyance, but they quickly flicker away to focus on the two champions making their way down to fight next. A terrifying smile twists her otherwise perfect face and I realize all the bloodlust I felt from the crowd is coming from her alone.
I pick up my pace and hope she’s too eager for the next fight to begin to turn her sight back to us.
Chapter Thirty
How’ve You Been?
