Odder The Demon Hunter - The Blood Curse
Chapter 12: CHAMPION’S QUEST

Splashes of light entered through Odder’s window, teasing him to wake. He turned, shielded his eyes with his arm. “Kellas, shine your rays somewhere else.”

He felt a sudden ping on his head. He turned back toward the window trying to break his mind free from its foggy slumber. Another ping on his forehead, his eyes sprung open. “What the…”

He sat up and hundreds of tiny pebbles rolled from his neck and chest down to the bed. Half confused, he surveyed the pile around him.

A pebble flew in through the window and made a right turn towards Odder’s head. He slapped it to the floor and jumped to the window. “Finkle! I should have known.”

The gnome stood between several bushes on the other side of the castle moat. “It’s about time, laddy. I’ve been throwing stones through your window for hours.”

“Why didn’t you just call my name?”

“And make a scene?” asked Finkle with a smirk. “Not my style.”

“Right,” Odder said, rolling his eyes.

“Sure, I might draw a little attention here and there, but never near the castle and especially not today. I don’t wanna miss the games.”

“The Champion’s Quest,” Odder recalled. “Today.”

“Indeed, laddy. You can thank me for waking you.” Finkle threw some rocks up and made them dance in the air. “How ya feeling? Momma Tonk told me about the exorcism.”

Odder leaned out the window, squinting. He glimpsed at the unremitting Eye of Adeit. “The Eye’s still there, and so’s my curse. I still have a little pain, but I’m feeling much better. A crazy thing happened last night, though.”

Finkle perked up and moved closer. “Do tell.”

“This isn’t the place, but if you’re coming with me to the games, I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Sure, I’ve got some business to take care of, but I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll save you a seat after I meet the Prince.”

“Very kind of you.” Finkle flicked the pebbles at Odder. “See ya there.”

Odder ducked, but the pebbles showered on top of him. He stood and shook his fist as Finkle ran off laughing and holding his fez. Crazy gnome.

He sat on the edge of his bed, exhausted, and thought about what happened at the ball. He felt unsettled, shocked, and still trying to make sense of it all. Was Serra really trying to kill the Prince? Why didn’t the Prince report the attack? He wrestled with these questioned until finally coming to the conclusion that the Prince’s actions were justified.

Feeling somewhat satisfied and clear headed, he diverted his attention back to the quest. He ran to his small wardrobe closet and picked out his cleanest tunic and pants. He reached for his hairbrush. Big day for my master, he paused. For me too, if the oracle’s right.

He slipped on his boots and ran out the door to the servant’s washroom. After a quick release in the loo, he stood with several other servants in front of the mirror primping themselves.

“Is your bet on Prince Destin,” said Abbott, a young servant.

“Of course.” Odder brushed up his short hair and pointed his brush at Abbott. “Today’s the day that my master becomes the Champion and guardian of the portal.”

Abbott gripped Odder’s shoulder. “And a big day for you too.”

“What do you mean?” Odder asked with a sneer. “Do you know about the curse?”

“Curse, what curse?” Abbott stumbled back. “I meant a big day for you as the servant to the Prince. Is there a curse I should know about?”

Odder gritted his teeth and fidgeted his fingers together. “Oh.” He laughed, nervously. “No, I meant a symbolic hex on the competitors.”

Abbott relaxed then laughed.

The other servants in the room joined in the conversation. “The House of Elestus will annihilate the other Houses,” said one servant. “The Prince will embarrass the other wizards,” said another.

Odder grinned and backed out of the room. He closed the door and exhaled. Close one.

A guard stepped from around the corner. “Odder?”

“Yes.”

“Prince Destin asked me to deliver a message.” He handed him a small parchment.

Strange, he didn’t air-script me. “Thank you.” Odder unfolded the note.

Odder, forego your duties this morning. I need you to pick up the package from the Hammered Hog. Ask the barkeeper for Cetus, then bring the package to me before the games.

He folded the parchment, tucked it into his belt, and headed back to his room where he spotted Aimma leaning against his door.

“How are you doing today, Odder?”

“Better, I think.” He opened the door and directed her in. “My body doesn’t ache but…” He rubbed his hands through his hair. “Did that fight last night really happen?”

She shrugged. “It did.”

“I convinced myself that the Prince did what he had to do.” He peered down and paused. “Should I confront him?”

“No, that’s an awful idea,” Aimma answered. “If you distract him from the games, he’ll have your head.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, you’re probably right, best to wait.”

Aimma held her index finger up to her mouth then pointed it at Odder. “Do you think Serra will try again at the games?” she asked.

“Not a chance, too many eyes and guards in the arena. She would have to fight her way through a small army. I do have a feeling I’ll see her again, though.”

He reached for his small leather satchel on his side table and slipped his prank spells into the interior. He pulled his sleeve back and stared at his markings. “Today’s the day according to the Divine Oracle,”

Aimma grinned. “I’m excited for you.”

Odder lifted his chin. “So, you’ve never gone to the games, would you like to go with me?”

“Would I? Of course.”

“Great, I have to make a quick stop at the Hammered Hog.”

Aimma wrinkled her nose. “Oh, that place. I hear it’s foul. Why are we stopping there?”

“The drinks are good, the food deadly.” He made a slicing motion across his neck. “And the patrons – let’s just say, not Elestus’s finest citizens. I need to pick something up, but I’ll be quick.”

Aimma stared at the dark outline of a pig taking a swig from a bottle on a sign mounted above the tavern doors. “Well, it makes perfect sense to have this haven of depravity so close to the market.”

“I’ll need you to wait outside,” Odder said.

Emma glared. “No way.”

“You’re not even supposed to know I’m picking anything up.”

“I’m assigned to you.”

Odder huffed. “Suit yourself.” He pushed open the doors and walked in with Aimma close behind.

The wooden floors creaked as Odder stepped into the lightly lit room. The decor was basic, several wooden tables and chairs, a bar in the back, stairs leading up to the second level, and a side room which held some unused musical instruments.

Odder spotted the barkeeper, wearing a white tunic and rounded bulky brown hat, cleaning the cups next to the kegs behind the bar. “I think that’s who I need to talk to.”

They strolled over, careful not to make eye contact with the only two patrons in the Hog. A barmaid intercepted them. “Skipping the games? Well then, grab a chair. What can I getcha?”

“I need to speak to the barkeeper,” Odder said.

She pointed toward the elf standing by the kegs and walked off.

“Whatcha need?” the barkeep asked, cleaning his cups.

“I’m here to see Cetus.”

“Is that right? Your friend too?”

Odder looked at Aimma, she grinned. “Yes.”

“Back around the corner in the dark.” The barkeeper pointed to an elf dressed in a leather hunters garb. “There he is.” He gave them a rigid squint. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Odder said, with Aimma shaking her head rapidly in agreement.

They made their way over to Cetus.

“Cetus?” Odder questioned. He didn’t answer nor look up.

“I’m here to pick up a package.”

“For who?” Cetus mumbled. His voice like grinding sand.

“Prince Destin.”

Cetus moved his head from the shadows revealing a face ravaged with scars. Aimma stepped back.

“You were to come alone.”

“I was injured. She’s a healer assigned to me.”

Cetus reached under his chair and handed Odder a tightly wrapped leather package.

“Thank you.” Odder backed away. “Aimma, let’s go.” They quickly turned and walked out.”

“What a scary place,” Aimma said. “No place for royal dealings. What exactly did you get?

“This stays between us. I was supposed to come here alone. Agreed?”

“Of course,” she confirmed.

Odder held up the package and shook it. “Not sure what it is except it’s important to the Prince. We better get going. He needs it before the games.”

Odder and Aimma arrived at the Ladiv Semptium arena, named after an ancient king who formed a peace accord with the Elven factions. Seven points extended from the circular dirt field, which symbolized each House.

Aimma stopped and marveled at the unique temples that hovered several hundred feet at each end of the points. “This is my first time at the games.”

“I’m amazed every time I see the arena.” Odder moved his hand through the air. “Each temple represents the Seven Houses with each designed to accommodate thousands of spectators. That giant mirrored globe hovering in the center will project the image of the games so the audience can see.”

He pointed at a black temple resembling a stony mountainside with rivers of lava flowing between crevices. Black smoke billowed from various fissures polluting the surrounding air. “The Temple of Rigan.”

Aimma pointed at a temple covered in lush green vines and vegetation wrapped around a pyramid built from rough-cut stone. “I know that one,” she said. “The ancient Temple of Salutaria.”

“That’s an easy one. What about the temple surrounded by mist?” Odder asked.

“If you peer through the haze, you can see waterfalls flowing over the ivory granite walls. My guess is the Vallamari Temple.”

“Nice,” acknowledged Odder. “The temple with sculptures, statues, and monuments is the Temple of Elestus.”

“Why is it such a dismal gray?” Aimma asked.

“I suppose the discipline of magic architecture isn’t flashy.”

“Tell that to the Archwizard and his son.”

Odder smiled and pointed to a temple surrounded by sheets of ice that glistened in the sun.

“Gelusador,” Aimma said, her voice quivering.

“Your favorite,” Odder added.

Aimma replied with a scornful look.

He chuckled. “That rust colored dust whistling around the clay temple is Vastadia. You can see the sand falling down the sides and dissipating before hitting the ground.”

“And the temple with shiny pearl-black walls is Skyger,” Aimma suggested.

“Correct,” Odder said. “The tall temple walls project high into the heavens, if you listen carefully, you can hear a slight harmonic vibration.”

Aimma closed her eyes and perked her ears. “Remarkable.” She opened one eye at Odder. “It’s astonishing to see the temples and the magic essences they represent.”

Several elves pushed past her.

Odder shaded his eyes as he looked up. “Like I said, I’m amazed every time.”

A sentry interrupted. “Servant, you are blocking the path. Where is your place?”

“The Temple of Elestus,” said Odder. “I’m the servant to Prince Destin.”

“Hurry along then. The game starts in an hour, and you don’t have time to gawk.”

Odder bowed his head and hurried, with Aimma, to the Elestus territory.

A full squadron stood guard in the ready room while Prince Destin and his companion wizard, Britt prepared.

As Odder and Aimma approached, they spotted Drugan pointing his finger in the Prince’s face.

“Aimma,” Odder whispered. “Is Drugan arguing with the Prince?”

“It appears that way,” she said, “but maybe he’s preparing Destin.”

Odder sensed something amiss. “We should watch Drugan closely.” He glanced around and took a mental note of the elves around them. “And keep an eye out for Serra just in case.”

Destin stood up in Drugan’s face and held up his finger, yelling. The Xenduri stepped back, exchanged some words, then walked away.

He passed Odder and scowled, pushing past him.

Odder recovered his balance. “Yes, definitely something strange is going on,” he said, softly.

They walked up to a sentry guarding the Destin’s ready room.

“No one is allowed to enter,” the sentry said, blocking the doorway with a poleaxe. He wore his full platemail made from elven steel with a lizard-like pattern crisscrossed along his chest, shoulders, arms, and legs.

“I’m Odder servant to –“

“It’s alright,” said Destin, waving them in. “allow them to pass,”

“Impressive armor,” said Aimma, as she followed Odder into the ready room. “Appears they are ready for war.”

Several guardsmen surrounded the Prince, fitting him with the Proprius armament. He gripped a wooden sword in his hands.

“My lord,” said Odder.

“Come here,” Destin responded, motioning the guardsmen away. “Did you bring my package?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Britt, dressed in a simple black hooded cloak with magic symbols embedded on the fabric, stood from his seat. “Hello dear,” he said to Aimma.

She huffed and turned away.

Having his suspicions validated, Odder walked past Britt without a look. He bowed and spoke to Destin, “How may I serve my lord?”

Destin placed the sword in its scabbard then gripped the package from Odder. “Walk with me.” The Prince led him out of the ready room and to the Elestus shrine at the start of the field. He stared at the enormous mirrored globe that hovered a thousand feet above them.

Avoiding eye contact, he asked in a quiet but stern voice, “Do you believe in fate?”

“Sure, I guess so,” Odder said, puzzled. “I believe the fates will award you the victory today.” He smiled.

Destin tapped his finger against his lips. “Perhaps.” He paused for what seemed like a long time. “Odder, I have seen things that cannot be unseen.” He swallowed hard. “You have always been a noble servant. If anything should happen today, please know that I cherish you as more than a servant. We are friends.”

“Of course my lord. If this is about that attack from last night, I have told no one.”

Destin faced Odder. “Oh, that witch? We have a history together - I have already forgotten about her. What I’m talking about is something bigger, destiny. The forces that dictate our lives.”

“The only destiny I know is that you will be named the new Champion of Arcaina,” Odder said.

Destin grinned and patted Odder’s back several times. “You are right. There’s no one better.” He removed the leather wrapping and revealed a strange black and gray mask. It resembled a morbid face with the eyes and mouth stitched closed. He held it up and stared intensely. Besides, I have this ugly mask and a silly wooden sword like yours. How can I be defeated?”

They laughed together and started back to the ready room.

Odder glanced at the strange mask. “I have to agree my lord, that’s ugly. I have never seen one quite like it. What’s it for?”

The Prince put on the mask. The eyes forced opened, stretching the thread. “The Mask of Vazul allows me to see magic.”

Odder cringed when he stared into its eyes. It felt like looking into a dark bottomless abyss. A chill shot down his spine and he turned away. “See magic like a seeker?”

Destin took off the mask. “Yes, but so much better.”

He spotted Aimma waiting for them at the entrance, standing far from Britt who sat looking the opposite direction with his nose in the air.

“We don’t have much time,” Britt yelled out.

“We better hurry,” Destin said, as he picked up his pace.

As Odder stepped up to Aimma, she whispered in his ear, “I can’t believe you left me with this pompous turg.”

“I have a special seat just for you Odder.” Destin turned toward Aimma. “There’s room for you as well. Now it’s royal seating so do not mingle with the King and nobles in the courtyard. They won’t stand for it and may have you escorted out.

“Yes, thank you my lord. Where is it?”

“Just west of the courtyard and south of the shrine.” Destin pointed to a privy. “Sorry, you might get an occasional odor, but you will be in the front with a clear view of the action.”

Odder stared at the seating, ignoring the fancy outhouse.

“Odder, will this do?” asked Destin.

Excitement filled Odder like a swarm of bees, and he jumped while pumping his first in the air. “Yes! If I were any closer, I would be in the game.”

Aimma grinned and clapped her hands together lightly.

“Can Finkle join us, is there room?” Odder asked.

“Your gnome friend is also welcome.” The Prince grinned. “I need you close to the action.” He glanced at Britt. “Are you ready?”

Britt jumped to his feet and gripped his wands. “Always my lord.”

Seven trumpets blew.

Destin and Britt ran to their place in front of the Elestus shrine.

From the courtyard, Odder watched the crowds of spectators running to get their seats. Some sat on the rolling hills that surrounded the arena, while others watched from far off rooftops and trees. Flying carpets taxied the privileged to the hovering temples as everyone awaited with anticipation for the Champion’s Quest to begin.

Nevets, a noble who flaunted his bounty of black hair, dressed in red and purple striped pants and a golden jacket with tails that curled behind him, approached Odder and Aimma. “What are you two doing here? Servants are in the back.” He pointed toward the south gate with his large ruby tipped black cane.

“My lord, Prince Destin asked that I, with his healer, be seated here.” Odder pointed toward the privy. “In case of any undesirable messes should come about.”

Nevets tapped Odder in the head with his cane. “Unfortunate for you, servant.” He laughed while rubbing his stomach. “I do expect it to be spotless once I’m done.” He opened the door, walked in, and slammed it shut.

Aimma sneered. “Just because he’s born into royalty, doesn’t give him the right to treat us like scum.”

“I am a servant and at times I…”

Aimma tapped Odder’s arm and whispered, “Drugan’s sitting with the King.”

“I see them. Keep a close eye on Drugan.”

Aimma nodded. “What about Finkle? Should I let him know where we are?”

“Yes, please. I can’t wait to see his face when he sees we have front row seating near the courtyard.”

Aimma air-scripted a quick message when the hovering mirrored globe burst into flames. The spectators cheered. Aimma quickly cleared the message from her view. The fire twisted around the sphere, shot down, and slammed into the ground. A thunderous force of black smoke roared across the field toward the crowd.

As the smoke dissipated, the leader of ceremonies appeared. He stood with a stiff posture due to his twenty-four inch elevated black and gold-buckle boots. He wore lime green pants and tunic, and a cape that had thousands of tiny fluttering yellow feathers. His headgear resembled a large pale-green spiral shell. He walked with a cane, which lit up like lightning as it moved up and down.

The enchanted mirrored globe reflected an image of the announcer, which the crowds could view from all directions. He held up his cane and pointed to each of the hovering temples. “Honored Kings, Guests and competitors, welcome to the annual Champion’s Quest.”

Cheers erupted.

Nevets popped out of the privy. “What did I miss servant?” Not giving Odder time to answer, he said, “Oh forget it.” He tapped him on the head once again and rushed past leaving a smell of putrid eggs.

Odder and Aimma held their noses and tried to focus back on the announcer.

“As soon as Ophelia sets, the trumpets will sound, and the game will start.”

More cheers from the crowd. Odder took a moment to take in the spine-tingling energy as the excitement filled the air.

Aimma clapped and turned toward Odder. “This is so exciting.”

“The rules are simple.” The announcer pointed his cane to each of the Proprius’ waiting at their shrines. “Seven teams from Seven Houses will be represented by one Proprius and their companion wizard. The Proprius can use either attack or defensive spells. Wizards may only use defensive spells or illusions against opponents. No killing, maiming, or poison spells are allowed.”

With his wrist, he waved his cane in a circular motion. “Behold the Jadax.” A teardrop shaped object, about the size of a greenwing dragon egg appeared. The upper portion glowed an amber hue as if it held the fire from Kellas. The bottom, shaped like a golden bowl, had an eye inserted into a seven-pointed star. He held out his hand, and the object drifted into his palm.

“The Proprius must strike the Jadax to win.” He held up the object. “However, it will not be easy. The Jadax will use illusion and magic to protect itself.”

The crowd raved.

“Get on with it,” mumbled Finkle.

“Finkle!” Odder said, startled. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Just got here, laddy. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He winked at Aimma. “Nice to see ya again missy.”

Aimma patted the gnome on the back. “You too Finkle.”

The leader of ceremonies twirled the Jadax on top of his hand and allowed it to float down his arm, around his shoulders, up his other arm, and to the top of his cane. A bright green light projected out the top.

“One more rule,” said Odder. “If another contender destroys their opponents wooden sword, then the defeated Proprius and their wizard will be removed from the game.”

“A sword like yours?” asked Aimma.

“No. Their wooden sword symbolizes the sword of Maha’De.” Odder reached and held his handle. “Mine’s a crude toy.”

With the flick of his cane, the object flew off and landed in the air in front of him. The Jadax turned the eye toward the announcer and winked. He held out his cane and shot a lightning bolt at the object. The smoke dissipated around the Jadax, but it remained unscathed. He then summoned the wind and tried to push the ball away, but it did not move. “As you witnessed, the Jadax is charmed to resist magic. The Proprius must rely on his physical abilities rather than his conjuring talents to approach the relic.

He pointed his cane toward the Eye of Adeit, then toward Kellas shining midway in the sky, and finally toward the horizon. Ophelia’s dim blue light glimmered just above the skyline. “The time is near. Proprius’ and wizards – take your place and prepare for battle. A flying carpet flew next to the announcer and quickly swept him off to the Temple of Elestus.

Several elves supplied refreshment and hearken shells to the spectators in the courtyard. One approached Odder and Aimma. “Hearken shell?” asked the servant. Aimma bit her lip and looked toward Odder.

“With the shell, we can hear Destin and Britt.” He waved to the servant. “One please.”

The crowds hushed, and a deathlike silence filled the air in anticipation as the final light of the blue sun disappeared. The sudden piercing sound of the trumpets filled the void. The mirrored globe reflected images of the competitors sprinting toward the Jadax. The field rumbled, and sheets of earth rose to form a maze around the relic.

An opening in the hearken shell moved as if talking and said in a voice similar to Destin’s. “It’s creating a labyrinth.”

Finkle slapped his knee. “This is going to be good.”

The mirrored globe showed a bird’s eye view of the maze with each competitor stepping into the rows. The Proprius and wizard of Skyger morphed into ravens and took flight. As they ascended, the walls curved over them, giving them the options to either go back or fall to the ground. The Skyger’s Proprius landed and morphed back to elven form, while his wizard swooped and crashed into the earth wall. His body morphed back as he tumbled back to the ground.

Elves from the Temple of Skyger shouted out words of disapproval.

The globe zoomed in on Britt launching fireballs at the walls. After several explosions and not even a scratch, he switched to lightning which only filled the air with smoke.

“Britt stop, we can’t go through the walls. Can we fly?” mimicked the hearken shell.

“We Elestus elves are not the best at flying spells. I think our option is just to follow the maze,” the hearken shell said in Britt’s voice.

Odder moved to the edge of his seat. “The Jadax will trap them. They have to replace a way through.”

Finkle lifted his nubby nose and took a sniff. He waved at a passing servant carrying a basket of corn. “Four ears.”

“How can you eat?” asked Aimma. “This is much too intense.”

“Missy, you don’t want a starving gnome around. We start to crave things like leather boots.” He stared at her feet and licked his lips.

She wrinkled her nose and tucked her boots under her chair.

Odder leaned into Aimma. “He’s just messing with you.” He smiled and glanced at her boots. “But it’s true. You don’t want a starving gnome close to you.”

She tucked her boots in further.

An explosion sounded from the Gelusador side, and the crowd gasped. Lava surrounded the Proprius and wizard, blocking their way forward.

The Vastadia’s wizards morphed into yotes and sprinted down the rows of the maze toward the center. The Jadax shot a flash of energy into the surrounding walls and ground. The path rotated, and the walls shifted, causing the yotes to run in circles without perceiving the deception.

The globe zoomed in on a flaming skeleton lashing two whips made from fire. It blocked the path for the Villamari. Their Proprius and wizard battled the heat and fire with wave after wave of water but could not gain ground from the stalemate.

“Look Aimma.” Odder shook her shoulder. “Salutaria’s wizards.”

Aimma placed her hands over her mouth.

The globe displayed an image of the Salutaria’s Proprius and wizard cautiously walking through the maze.

“Better pray for your townsfolk missy. The Jadax will make quick targets out of them,” Finkle said, with pieces of corn falling out of his mouth.

Aimma turned toward the gnome. “Just because I wear a uniform doesn’t make me part of the religious order, and my name’s Aimma not missy.” She reached over and pinched his cheek.

Finkle blushed and wiped the corn from his lips. He handed her an ear. “Corn?”

She responded with a half-smile.

“Don’t be upset Aimma,” Odder said. “None of the competitors will be permanently harmed.” He pointed at the globe. “The Jadax is leading the Salutaria’s wizards right into Destin and Britt, and the Rigans right into Gelusador.”

“Fire and Ice. Those two Houses are destined to destroy each other,” said Finkle, grinning and rubbing his hands together.

Just as the Gelusador’s wizards turned the lava back into rock, the north wall disintegrated, exposing the Rigans on the other side. The two Houses skirmished in close melee as fire, ice, and steam filled the area. The Rigan’s wizard manifested a banewolf made of fire and used the creature to distract their adversaries long enough to allow the Rigan’s Proprius to launch a fireball at the Gelusador’s Proprius’s wooden sword. The sword turned black, then crumbled from his hand.

A horn blast sounded, and the two opponents stopped their battle. The ground opened up, and the Gelusador’s Proprius and companion wizard disappeared into a dark hole.

The Temple of Rigan erupted in cheers while the temple of Gelusador objected in hisses.

“That was amazing.” Aimma stood, wide-eyed, and clapping.

Finkle leaned into Odder and whispered. “I think she likes this too much.”

Odder agreed, and they both chuckled.

The globe changed the image back to the soon to be encounter with Elestus and Salutaria.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when the Salutarians bests your dear Prince,” Aimma said, with her nose in the air.

The smile left from Odder’s and Finkle’s faces, and they stood with an alert gaze at the image.

“I think it’s time,” the hearken shell said in Britt’s voice.

“I think you’re right,” the hearken shell said this time in Destin’s voice.

Britt pulled the Mask of Vasul from his cloak and handed it to Destin who placed it on his face. The globe zoomed in so the crowd could see the details.

“Cheater,” cried several voices from the Temple of Salutaria.

Aimma leaned into Odder. “Is he allowed to use that mask?”

“I don’t think the rules say otherwise, as long as it doesn’t permanently harm anyone.”

“I can see wizards behind the wall.” Whispered the hearken shell. “Britt ready your entrapment spell.”

Destin, in a defensive stance, approached the wall. The crowd went silent. The wall disintegrated, and Britt waved his two wands to snare the wizards. Destin quickly attacked the Proprius’s sword, blasting it with lightning. The burst caused the Proprius to fly back and crash into the back wall.

A gasp from the crowd broke the silence followed by yelling and shouting.

A horn blew, stopping the action. Britt released the wizard who ran back to his Proprius. The Salutaria’s Proprius slowly stood, baring his teeth, and clenching his fists.

Destin narrowed his eyes, held up his sword and stood his ground.

The Salutaria’s Proprius charged, but the ground opened up and swallowed him and his wizard. The horns blew starting the action once again.

Britt ran to Destin, who was still in a defensive stance. “We are not to kill or maim, my lord.” Whispered the hearken shell.

“The Jadax played the horn to continue the action,” Destin responded. “No one has been… permanently harmed.”

“I don’t like what I saw or what I’m hearing,” Aimma said, pointing toward the crowd. “Elves are protesting.”

Odder glanced around, and the crowd buzzed with clamor. An argument near the King caught his attention. He fixed his stare on Drugan who sounded like he was protesting the strike.

“This is ugly.” Pieces of corn flew out of Finkle’s mouth. “The King and Drugan at odds.”

“Shh,” said Odder. “Keep it down. Like Destin said, the Jadax did not penalize him. Let’s focus on the games.”

Aimma wrinkled her nose and talked through her tightly pressed teeth. “In my opinion, that Proprius could have been killed. Prince or no Prince, he should be removed from the game.”

“I’m with you missy, Uh I mean Aimma,” Finkle grinned and after a pause tugged at her dress. “Say, do you think I can have some more of those hibiscus petals?”

“Are you serious?” She squinted her eyes at the gnome.

Finkle turned up his shoulder and looked away. “I guess not.”

“You both missed it. Villamari and Vastadia have been defeated.” Odder pointed to the globe which showed the competitors of Skyger, Rigan, and Elestus converging toward one another. “I think Destin can see them approaching.”

As part of the crowd cheered and part still booed from disgruntlement, Odder glanced back at the King and Drugan. The Xenduri stood from his chair, said something with an ugly twist to his mouth, then vanished in a cloud of black smoke.

Odder elbowed Aimma. “Did you see that?”

“I did. He looked upset.”

“Why would Drugan disrespect the King in public and then leave?”

Aimma shrugged her shoulders and then slapped Finkle’s hands as he tried to sneak them into her satchel. She peered at the gnome. “It does seem unusual.”

Finkle responded with a nervous grin. “Ahem, yes strange.” He twirled the tassel on his fez.

The ground shook, all three fixed their eyes on the globe.

“What was that?” asked Aimma.

“I don’t know, but we shouldn’t feel what’s happening in the games out here,” Odder replied.

The globe showed the competitors of Skyger and Rigan in a dual while Destin and Britt circled, unnoticed, to their flank.

The ground shook once more.

“There it happened again,” Finkle said.

A sudden dark cloud surrounded the giant mirrored globe.

“What’s the Jadax doing now?” Aimma asked.

“Nothing I’ve ever seen,” Odder said, with a sense of foreboding.

The audience fixed their attention on the growing cloud. An obscure face formed then morphed into the face of a dragon.

“Amazing. The Jadax is over embellishing its illusions this year,” Finkle said, rubbing his hands together.

The dragon’s face solidified into a blazing red basalt dragon. It ripped away from the dark cloud with two horrific claws, revealing its scaly neck.

The crowd awed.

“Illusion?” Odder questioned. He glanced at the King who had a guard whispering in his ear. “Something’s off.”

The competitors stopped battling and gazed up at the fully formed basalt dragon. The dragon opened his grisly mouth filled with fangs, let out a roar, and then exhaled an immense flood of fire at the Temple of Villamari. The temple instantly turned into hell’s fire, lost its elevation, and crashed into the Temple of Vastadia. Now freefalling, both temples tumbled toward the Elestus courtyard.