Ethan had been looking forward to the match between the Pursuers and Firstbloods, as he expected it to be the closest thing to the upcoming duel that he was likely to see. Only moments into the clash between the two rival teams, however, he realized this would likely be a unique event.

  Perhaps someone could argue there was a larger strategy at play, but if so Ethan certainly couldn’t see it. The Pursuers surged forward like rabid animals, screaming and cursing at the nobles, who for their part seemed to be trying to look as incredible as possible, while what they did could only barely qualify as fighting.

  One Firstblood, in form-fitting black armor and wielding a trident, had leapt atop a rock, and a Familiar that looked like a whale was leaping out of the ground behind him. The man had his weapon raised above him in triumph, and seemed to be taken completely unaware as two of the Pursuers barreled into him at a full sprint. They went down in a heap, one commoner pounding the man with bare fists, while another was using a large hammer, beating on the downed noble like an anvil.

  On the other side of the arena, a burning gorilla was fighting a poisonous lizard, as two ranged warriors threw spell after spell at one another. Each had some kind of skill to turn the attacks aside, which caused bouts of fire and dripping orbs of poison to paint the battlefield. This disrupted the other skirmishes, which were likewise as chaotic as a barroom brawl.

  A woman on the commoner side and a short man on the noble side were standing back, yelling at their respective teams and trying to bring them into some semblance of order. After several minutes of this making no difference, the woman began firing arrows at her counterpart, who charged her with a heavy ax. Ethan turned to Valanor.

  “Is this…typical?” he asked, not sure how to describe what he was seeing.

  The knight sighed. “More than you’d believe. Even a generation ago we had similar teams, commoner against noble scions, each trying to prove themselves before the king. If you think this is bad, you should see what happens if they meet outside the city walls.”

  Ethan shook his head in disbelief. The battle was certainly entertaining, as Familiars clashed, and spells and abilities caused endless explosions and eruptions of power. But he certainly didn’t feel like he was gaining any key insights for his own match, and it was hard to know how to react to two groups of people just beating each other senseless.

  Slowly the battle began to resolve, and Ethan found himself grateful for that. He had expected to be cheering for the underdog Pursuers, but in the end he was just happy to see the fighting slow down. As the minutes ticked by, it had ultimately become a showdown between teamwork and raw power.

  After their initial charge, the Pursuers had slowly fallen into a pace that seemed more reflective of their true group dynamic. They worked together, sometimes swarming a single noble, or at the very least trying to protect one another and lend support wherever possible. Two of their enemies were brought down this way, albeit slowly.

  The Firstbloods, on the other hand, never changed their tactics. They fought like a group of superheroes who happened to be on the same battlefield, throwing powerful attacks at any target in sight. They relied on their vastly superior armor, rare abilities, and admittedly a considerable amount of personal skill.

  Unfortunately for the Pursuers, that turned out to be enough. While ganging up on individual nobles seemed wise, it also left the others to wreak havoc. It started with the leader–the skirmisher with the ax–who easily took down the Archer he’d faced. With no support she was an easy target, one whisked from the arena in a bubble of sand after only a few swift strikes.

  This allowed the ax-wielder to turn his attention to the spell tossing duel, which ceased being a stalemate the moment he arrived. Thus freed up, the noble spellcaster switched to using wide-area attacks on the Pursuers who were tag-teaming their targets. The man didn’t seem to care that his spells hit his own injured teammates as well, as his burning attacks quickly forced the enemy team to scatter. After that, it was just a matter of time before the Firstbloods had chased them down, and the match was ended.

  “Does it always go that way?” Ethan asked.

  “It goes in the nobles’ favor more often than not, but it’s far from a one-sided rivalry. Sometimes the Pursuers manage to keep clear heads, and it’s a very different match. Unfortunately the two teams got into a drunken brawl only two nights ago, and it appears that egos were still bruised.”

  Ethan and his friends stood up, trying to beat the rush as the announcer raced out to call the match, the magical sand still falling around him as the arena returned to its dormant state. Ethan and Valanor parted ways with the two women, who were returning to Selina’s to clean and rest. They both quietly wished Ethan luck before parting, the tall Nator even giving him a tight hug that felt suspiciously like a goodbye.

  Soon the two men were making their way back down the increasingly dark streets, both somewhat distracted.

  “Are you sure you’re willing to do this?” Valanor asked suddenly, and Ethan looked at him in surprise.

  “You’d rather I left the prince to his fate?” he asked.

  “Don’t be a fool. You know of my duty. You have some sense of what it means to be First Shield, and you know…you know I’ve already lost one of my charges.” Ethan could see the man’s jaw clench as he tried to find the words. “But that doesn’t mean I’d so readily trade your life for his.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ethan’s eyebrows raised at the restrained, but undeniably heartfelt words. He regretted that he wasn’t able to tell the man the whole plan–Calevaro had been adamant that it be kept secret, and Ethan agreed. What Valanor might do if he knew that the prince was truly entering the duel…

  He decided to tell the man as much as he could. “I won’t pretend I care for the royals. They’ve used me openly, and don’t care if I die beyond the inconvenience it would cause them. Calevaro ‘the prince’ is a complicit member of a family that’s far too willing to treat people as tools and pawns for their own ends.” Valanor tried to interrupt, but Ethan held up a hand to forestall him.

  “But, Calevaro ‘the man’ appears to be a decent person. I’ve seen him risk his life for his knights, and I’ve spent enough time with him to gain an understanding of who he is beneath the crown. I don’t want to die tomorrow, and I certainly have no intention of doing so. But I’ve risked my life a lot of times since coming to this world, and I’ve decided he’s a man worth risking it once more.”

  Valanor seemed to be weighing what to say next, and stopped himself several times before he finally spoke. “Be careful,” was all he managed at last, and Ethan found himself smiling slightly as they made their way back to the house.

  ***

  Ethan didn’t sleep much that night, he had too much to prepare, and he found himself nervous as well. There were simply too many unknowns about the duel. They expected Thavin to cheat, and in some ways it might actually go better if he did.

  They’d been talking about the most likely ways for it to happen for months, and the one they agreed on was that the Arinaens must have a way to affect the magical dome in the arena. Research into Thavin’s other successful duels had been suspiciously bland. If it was to be believed, he’d simply faced down every opponent in single combat, and won.

  Given the mechanisms Ethan had discovered in the Dunebreaker, that didn’t seem possible. After describing what he’d seen to Selina, they agreed it had clearly been designed for other people to somehow fight in the arena as well, likely being generated by the same magic as the conjured monsters. If that was the case, obviously it needed to be disguised from the spectators.

  Ethan had done what he could to sabotage those mechanisms, but it was clear the Arinaens had been up to something all this time, and repairing it to some extent was likely. Even if they had some new plan to cheat in mind, it was still highly likely that they’d need to employ a method of interfering with the images the crowd saw on the dome.

  It was Ethan’s job to level the playing field in that scenario. Whether it meant preventing the extra warriors from teaming up against the prince, or dealing with whatever other schemes they had, he would be there. Of course, that meant if they didn’t cheat, and the dome was intact, Ethan would actually become a massive liability. They wouldn’t put it past the scheming Arinaens to try to turn this whole thing around, and rightly name the Viridians as the ones playing false.

  It left Ethan’s head spinning. Choosing to help the prince was already difficult for him, and doing it with so many different variables only made things worse. Beyond that, he had another task tomorrow that came with its own challenges, and the logistics of it had him playing out the day over and over in his mind.

  “It will be alright,” Tomo’s calm voice said.

  Ethan sat up in bed, seeing the spectral demon sitting at his window. It was always odd to look at a being made of light, given that the Familiar didn’t actually illuminate anything around him.

  “You can tell I’m freaking out?” he asked.

  “Your Spirit is running wild. It follows your will, a will that longs to take actions that it is not yet time for.”

  Ethan flopped back onto the bed. “All this time waiting, training, planning, all leading to one day. Partly I want it over with, to move on to the next obstacle. Partly I’m worried about how many other people have plans for tomorrow.”

  “It is a mistake to underestimate your opponents,” Tomo agreed. “But so too is letting the unknown paralyze you. You will do as you always have done: take the best action possible with the information you possess.”

  “Thanks Tomo,” Ethan said. He could feel the support of his other Familiars like a warmth inside him, and he let out a long breath. “We’re going to do this.”

  ***

  Ethan was in darkness, and it was difficult to hear. Buried under the sands of the arena, a runic ritual the only thing allowing him to breath, he waited for his moment.

  He was using every method of concealing his presence he had available. He was a Trick of the Light, and the rune that hid him in the Astral was blocking the senses of anyone nearby. Even Tomo was focusing only on making Ethan cease to exist as far as observers were concerned.

  They’d discussed this ahead of time, and Selina and the prince had agreed there shouldn’t be an issue. Security’s primary purpose in the arena was to keep people from entering the dueling pit, but comparatively lax regarding anyone already inside. Ethan had been here since before dawn, the discomfort a necessary price for the deception they were attempting.

  But he knew it was nearly time. There were no other events today, as the duel itself was more than enough to satisfy the crowd, and its deadly nature meant celebrations or festivities would be in poor taste. Either prince could surrender, of course, and it was apparently expected that one would, but the truth was that neither would truly consider it.

  A prince would die today.

  Ethan was buried as far down as he could manage, and the voices from above were indecipherable. The fact that he heard them at all, however, meant it had to be the amplified voice of the announcer, explaining the terms of the duel. The dense jungle should work in Ethan's favor as a stealth specialist, but he still wondered what the hazard would be. The ‘ground beneath us’ could mean something swamp-like, or covered in quicksand, anything.

  Finally he felt the rumble announcing the magic of the arena coming to life. He held as still as he possibly could. The process was designed to work around people in the fighting pit, but not typically buried as he was, and he had to be ready to react as soon as the sand began forming into whatever it would end up being. Despite this, Ethan still found himself surprised when he abruptly felt himself falling.

  He had enough time to turn in the air, and see with unfortunate clarity that he was now inside a deep pit, lined with blade-like teeth.