Theresa beamed, standing atop the podium with Thundar—who was pumping his fists in the air—and a grinning Grimloch who spread his hands in a ‘come on’ gesture.
The crowd roared, chanting their names: “Grimloch! Grimloch! Grimloch! Thereeeesaaa! Thereeeesaaa! Thereeeessaaa! Thundar! Thundar! Thundar!”
Their names echoed throughout the stadium. Alex could almost feel the energy in the air as their gold medals were hung around their necks.
Grimloch had to get down on both knees to receive his.
“And now, for their next prize!” the announcer cried. “Twenty four hundred gold! Our mighty champions of The Grand Melee will be taking home the handsome sum of eight hundred gold a piece! Enough to have some fine weapons or chainmail custom crafted for themselves.” He looked at the shark man and laughed. “Though from Grimloch’s stature, I think his might be a bit more pricey!” He kept laughing for a while, clearly enjoying his own joke. The shark man stared at him.
“Now, as I was saying.” The announcer snapped his fingers; three long slips of parchment appeared in his hand. “But, not only will they share in twenty four hundred gold, they’ll each receive a voucher to Stark’s Armoury and Weapons, home of the finest smiths and enchanters in all of Generasi! Each slip represents the price of one enchanted weapon, or one piece of enchanted armour! We will have our champions properly equipped!”
The cheering swelled to almost deafening heights, with Alex and his ecstatic group screaming with pride.
“This was glorious!” Khalik roared. “Like a battle out of legends!”
“I’ll say!” Mr. Lu shouted over the noise. “Did you see our Theresa? She threw that lightning sword like she was throwing a dart! Scar the Bandit King would be shaking in his boots if he saw her!”
“She…” Mrs. Lu blinked, watching her daughter with a somewhat lost expression. “She’s grown so much in the year she’s been away from us.”
“Were she a dryad, we would exalt her for her skills,” Sinope watched the young huntress closely. Alex noticed she was leaning toward Khalik; her body language was very comfortable. “It takes deeds such as hers to qualify someone for the autumn council in our wood.”
“What’s the autumn council?” Selina asked.
“Our war council, it assembles during times of hardship,” Sinope said. “That is why it is named after the ‘autumn’ season, for autumn brings hardship to all forest life.”
“Right…because fall means that winter’s coming.” Selina looked up at the dryad’s willow-branch-like hair. “And winter’s hard for everyone.”
“Yes, indeed,” Sinope said. “Though, winter is not so bad in Generasi.”
“It’s a lot warmer here than where we’re from,” Selina said then turned to Isolde. “So, Theresa, Thundar and Grimloch won the Grand Melee, Khalik and Najyah won the Lightweight Duel by Proxy and he did really well in the spell joust-”
“The sun blinded me,” the prince said sullenly. Sinope put her hand on his arm.
“-Grimloch won the Great Water Hunt, and Alex and Claygon won the Super Heavyweight Duel by Proxy. So, do you think you guys will win the Grand Battle?”
“Hmmm,” Isolde mused. “It is still difficult to say.”
“Really?” Mrs. Lu asked. “Even with what you saw today?”
“Indeed.” Isolde pursed her lips in thought. “The Outcasts of the Divine Wind did not enter this contest…likely to keep themselves fresh for tomorrow. Indrajit Hanuman is a competent wizard, but he was not able to bring the full brunt of his spellcasting to bear, which he will be allowed to do under the rules of tomorrow’s contest. Tyris Goldtooth will face us not only with a team, but with her full power, a grudge to repay, and that monstrous familiar of hers. And look there.”
She pointed down at the field.
Competitors who’d been knocked out of the melee were watching the three gold medalists, then looking up at Alex and the others as if appraising them.
“We are being watched,” Isolde said. “And come tomorrow, we shall be targeted.”
“Oh…” Selina said. “Well, maybe you can pound them like Theresa, Grimloch, and Thundar just did.”
“Hopefully. Hopefully,” Isolde said.
Alex watched their watchers.
As soon as The Grand Melee began, warriors had focused on two teams: Theresa, Thundar and Grimloch’s, and Hanuman’s group. It was a smart tactic. Eliminate major threats fast, especially if they could catch them off guard. Now because of their victories, Alex and his friends had become one of those major threats. They’d probably be targeted from all sides tomorrow; it was like Baelin said: power attracted attention and that attention was often malicious.
Attention…
Power…
Thinking about attention and power and The Grand Battle, reminded him that The Games would be coming to an end and the expedition would be starting…that is if the demon summoner was ever caught. Maybe he’d be back in Thameland soon, and in closer proximity to the other four Heroes.
‘I’m glad there’re only four for me to avoid.’ He thought.
He had no idea if Uldar could just mark as many Heroes as he felt like. It seemed like having an army of Heroes might be better than only having five, but Alex had learned that divine power had limits.
The priests used to teach the people of Alric that Uldar was this benevolent, unbeatable, force whose Heroes would always win out over The Ravener. Yet Baelin talked about gods like they were ordinary—just more powerful—mortals. Not above judgement. Not above death. Alex remembered Oreca: he was a demigod, but he’d been killed by a mortal warrior who’d wielded steel as well as magic.
And he’d been killed because he’d been denied worship.
Worship that he’d needed.
Uldar’s power was probably limited too; otherwise, he could have squashed The Ravener like a bug any time he wanted to. So—if he had limits to his strength—maybe he could have marked more Heroes, just made them weaker instead of creating five powerful ones. Alex was considering the possibilities since the Grand Melee had really shown him that having a few elites as a team could be better than having a large force.
Numbers helped on an open field—a large group of warriors surrounding Hanuman had proved that—but high numbers wouldn’t necessarily work in a tight dungeon. Also, a massive group of weaker Heroes would have to split up to deal with multiple dungeons at once.
Which meant the divided groups would be less powerful—not as much of a threat—so The Ravener and the dungeon cores wouldn’t have to use as many resources against them. Monster hordes could be sent to more places: farms, cities, towns, churches, or ports to increase the damage it wanted to cause, maybe even wreck the countryside, or even the capitol.
But making four really powerful Heroes—and one Fool—changed that scenario.
Alex remembered how Cedric had crushed those Silence Spiders. Wherever The Heroes went, dungeon cores wouldn’t last for long, and since they were a small team, their mobility was fluid.
If they had a Sage that was powerful enough to use teleportation spells, they could move to any part of the realm they wanted. They could reinforce the army in one area, then teleport and instantly be in another part of the kingdom, cleaning out another dungeon. They could accomplish a lot in one day.
A small force of elites would not only be hard to track, but they'd be devastating to The Ravener’s forces. So, the dungeon cores would need to put a tight focus on eliminating Uldar’s five Heroes.
‘And any monsters attacking them would mean less monsters attacking anything else,’ Alex thought.
They were Uldar’s champions who drew The Ravener’s eye each cycle, and the ultimate tools of its destruction.
‘I wonder what that’ll mean for our expedition?’ he thought. ‘Our cabal’s gotten pretty strong and pretty resourceful, and we’ll be with a bunch of experienced wizards. Some—like Professor Jules—who can fight. Which means we’ll also be a threat to it, especially when we start taking dungeon cores.’
He imagined the expedition's castle standing tall, not only as a place for research, but also as a threat that would draw The Ravener’s armies. Maybe he was being paranoid, but if people started looking into the mysteries of the dungeon cores…and maybe learned how to hijack them…
‘If I were The Ravener, I’d use a lot of resources to remove that threat from off the map.’
He sighed.
There was so much he didn’t know.
There was so much to learn. He was determined to do just that.
Once the Grand Battle was over, then only the demon summoner stood between them and the start of the expedition.
He took a deep breath and exhaled.
And one of those events would be resolved tomorrow.
The rest of the evening was spent in a small celebration for Theresa, Thundar and Grimloch’s victories, but everyone kept themselves well under control. With The Grand Battle coming up the next morning, they had to be fresh and free of lingering effects of too much celebrating, if they wanted to perform well.
Alex doubted that most of them would be able to sleep anyway. They were way too excited.
# # #
The next morning dawned on the final day of The Games of Roal.
The air was filled with tension: Alex could feel it as soon as he got out of bed. The demon summoner hadn’t attacked during The Games, so he began to wonder if they’d make a move before they ended.
‘Then again,’ he thought. ‘The event is a celebration of the defeat of a demigod. Maybe they’ll just sit back and enjoy it, like everyone else.’
It seemed he was the only one feeling tense about the demon summoner. Or—if the others were—they were more focused on other things.
“Well, today is the day,” Khalik said as Alex, Theresa, Claygon, Brutus and Selina met him in the hall of the insula. Najyah perched on his arm. “Is everyone ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Alex said.
“I don’t think we could do any more to prepare,” Theresa said. “Now, all we can do is bring our best to the fight.”
“Mhm.” Khalik let out a breath. “It seems the shadow of cowardice stalks only me, then.”
“Oh no, I’m nervous too,” Theresa said.
“Me three,” Alex said.
“Hah! That makes me feel better!” Khalik laughed. “Let us see if these nerves have infected everyone else!”
It seemed they had in a way.
They met Theresa’s parents down the hall and—as they emerged from the insula and met the rest of their friends—the tension increased. They were all nervous, but ready. Alex looked at the body language of folks passing by. He didn’t see any of the signs that some displayed when they were afraid: they weren’t turning their head every which way like they expected to be attacked at any second, they weren’t looking like they were closed off and needed to protect themselves, and their steps were leisurely, not quick like someone hurrying away from danger.
There was a relaxedness to their movements, though some were a bit breathless, but Alex thought that could be from the anticipation of the big event.
The Grand Battle had everyone—participants and spectators alike—excited.
The only ones who seemed tense about the demon summoner were the authorities.
The team of trackers who usually followed him and his friends—the plainclothes officers—were gone. No matter how hard Alex looked, he couldn’t find a trace of them as he walked from the insula to the tournament grounds and central stadium. If the tail had been replaced, he couldn’t tell who they were.
The stadium loomed ahead and crowds streamed in from throughout campus, the city, and beyond. The rest of the festival grounds were fairly quiet; vendors had even begun packing up their wares, winding up four very busy, and no doubt very profitable, days. Nearby, Alex suddenly saw familiar plainclothes officers moving through the mob. Some of his usual tails were following other people. Watchers of Roal hovered on their flying disks, surveilling from above.
‘Most eyes must be on the Grand Battle,’ he thought. ‘It makes sense that they’d be putting much of their resources here. Not that I’m complaining.’
“No other events besides The Grand Battle,” Khalik said. “It looks like all eyes will be focused here today.’
“Yeah…” Thundar agreed, as he watched a food vendor dismantle his cart. “…it’s kinda sad. These last few days have been crazy. So much to see and do. The food…it’s too bad it’s all gonna be gone tomorrow.”
“Nothing lasts for all time,” Isolde said. “We should enjoy ourselves while we can. After The Games, we shall have the expedition to prepare for in earnest…and any battle in Thameland shall not provide us with foes who have spells blunting their attacks, or spell-marks that can whisk us away at a moment’s trouble.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Lu looked at her. “Those things can’t magic you away from danger in Thameland?”
“I fear not,” Isolde said. “The spellcraft required involves a sixth-tier spell.”
“Is that high?”
“Very,” Isolde said. “To cast it on a large group would require an extremely powerful wizard, or a large group of powerful wizards working in tandem, or the use of incredibly expensive magical machinery, which is what the Watchers use during The Games. Such machinery cannot draw power from the mana vents at such a great distance and the vents only exist here in Generasi. Further, there is a range limit upon those spells: a long range, but a range nonetheless. Were Baelin to cast it upon us, he would have to remain fairly close for the entirety of the time we explore, and otherwise engage in the expedition. I am sure there shall be some days when we can expect such a luxury…but others...”
She let it hang.
Alex winced, half-expecting Mrs. Lu to object to their involvement in the expedition, but she was just quiet.
“I see,” she said, then a look passed between her and Mr. Lu.
“Well, we shall not always be able to hide behind our chancellor’s robes,” Khalik said. “Becoming dependent on combat when safety is mostly guaranteed can only train poor habits. Instincts would dull. One would be trained to take more risks from becoming used to feeling safe. That creates a false sense of safety. Should anyone expect that safety net in the real world…”
“Monsters would kill you,” Selina said, reaching up and patting Claygon on the arm.
There was a pause.
Part of Alex wanted to reassure his little sister…but that would be a lie. She was right.
“Yeah,” he said. “And that would kinda defeat the point of learning to deal with the world’s dangers.”
Mr. Lu gave him a look…but it didn’t seem like a disapproving one.
They reached the stadium together, facing two separate doorways: one for the audience and one for the competitors.
“Well, today’s safe,” Selina said. “So it’ll be exciting watching you guys fight.” She looked up at Alex. “Make sure you win.”
“We’ll try,” he said.
‘Assuming nothing goes wrong,’ he glanced at the plainclothes officers—and Watchers of Roal—surveying the crowd as they moved through it.
He thought about Mr. Lu’s story about Scar the Bandit King.
The man had stayed hidden for his own self-interests…until something so tempting and challenging had come along that he just couldn’t resist going after it.
‘Hopefully nothing like that happens,’ Alex thought, feeling like he was tempting fate. ‘But if it does…we’ll be together.’
He looked at Selina, Mr. and Mrs. Lu, Nua-Oge and Sinope. Sinope and Nua-Oge were skilled fighters: if anything happened, they’d be right there.
‘Just stay hiding, demon summoner,’ he thought. ‘Just keep hiding.’
“The time of hiding is over,” Kybas whispered, peering around a tent at the crowds streaming into the stadium. Most of The Watchers were focused on the crowd.
He’d seen some patrolling campus, but fewer than there’d been in past days. Grinning, he turned and patted Harmless on the side.
“Come, let’s get our harvest before any of these sharp-eyed folks think to look away from the big show.”