Kanin Fyre: Chapter 9 - The Gods’ Tournament

The tournament isn’t until tomorrow, so we decide to scope out the arena today. Up close, it’s even more impressive than it was from the airship. The maze, which appeared to be made of white stone from a distance, actually seems to be made of solid light. The passageways are wide, and there's a transparent ceiling to prevent anyone from going over the walls. I can make out ten entrances and one exit.

“Are all Gods’ Tournaments mazes?” I ask Zyneth.

He’s looking down at the labyrinth as we cross one of its many boardwalks. Still more small airships drift over the grounds in the sky above us. “No, it’s different for every God. Usually it has something to do with their domain.”

“Yua Tin is starlight and navigation,” I recall. “Are you saying this maze is made of starlight?” That doesn’t seem possible to me from what I understand about stars, but what do I know? This is magic. 

“I am not sure,” Zyneth admits. “But it’s certainly possible.”

“So the competition will be whoever makes it through the maze first,” I surmise. “Sounds more like luck than anything,”

“Not at all.” Zyneth pauses, and I follow his gaze down. The space we’re above is large and open, the size of an auditorium. “This is the final round of the tournament. The candidates who have made it this far did not get here by luck. I heard they had to follow a series of clues to different locations before finally being led to this city.”

I snort. “A god picks their champion by holding a giant scavenger hunt?”

“For Yua Tin, at least,” Zyneth says. “But that’s an oversimplification. Remember, the competition is about navigation, by any means necessary. These will all be highly skilled magic users, which is how they made it this far in the first place. And I doubt the competition will be as simple as who can navigate it the fastest.”

Now that he mentions it, the area below us does look large enough to be used for combat. I wonder if the contestants are expected to fight each other, or if this will be more of a Minotaur-type situation. My confidence in Yua Tin’s compassion wavers. We start walking once more.

“And Yua Tin will be here to watch this?” I ask. “Where will they view it from?”

Zyneth glances around the arena. “I’m not sure. This all looks like spectator viewing.”

So we’ll have no idea where to expect them. Great.

By the time we’ve done a couple laps around the maze, the sun is getting low, and from the way Zyneth and others are pulling up their collars, it must be getting cold. We decide to turn in for the night. It’s not as though there’s much we can do to prepare, anyway. 

To be honest, I’m not even sure what it is I want to achieve tomorrow. Catch a glimpse of the god? Try to evaluate if it would be a good idea to approach them? How would I even gauge that?

 Maybe I just want to know if all this is real. Blair is the only god I’ve met, and while she claims it, and the System labeled her as one, I don’t understand why no one else seems to have ever heard of her. If I have the opportunity to Check Yua Tin, then I’ll be able to compare her stats to Blair’s.

 Yeah, I know it’s a flimsy plan. But if I’m tied up in all of this, then the more I can learn, the more likely I am to survive it.

#

The next morning, thin flurries of snow tease the air as the city buzzes with activity. The competition isn’t scheduled to start for another few hours, but everyone is already filing down to the tournament grounds for better viewing. After Zyneth grabs a quick breakfast, we join the tide of spectators.

Today, I’m wearing my disguise. It helps that the version of me the gods are looking for, based on my memories, looks nothing like my current disguise. So, hey, that’s one reason to be grateful for losing my body. 

I guess.

Zyneth is also wearing different attire, but less for disguise purposes and more because it’s winter and we just moved further north. He’s wearing some kind of jacket that goes to his knees and is buttoned down the middle. It’s more than what Zyneth usually does for the cold, but still a lot less than what most of the other people around here are wearing. I wonder if cambions just run hotter.

“You know what you look like?” I say to Zyneth.

He gives me a flat look. “Do I want to know?”

“A pirate,” I say. “Oh, that’s a fun word.” Now that we’re in Dunmora, Zyneth and I have switched over to using Dunmorish to better blend in. It’s interesting hearing all of the same thoughts come out of my translator with different words. Zyneth sounds different too; somehow, through Echo’s translation, I can tell he has a faint accent. It’s nice. 

Zyneth grimaces at me. “I do not look like a pirate.”

“It’s almost identical to Jack Sparrow,” I tell him. “All you need is a tricorn hat.”

“What?” He scoffs. “Were you not paying attention when we were fighting all those mercenaries Yedzaquib sent?”

I hold up my hands. “OK, so, it’s more of an Earth-style pirate outfit.” I just like to needle him.

Dozens of vendors have set up shop around the maze, selling food and drink to the spectators. I bet they make a killing.

“Why would a pirate need to wear a tricorn hat?” Zyneth asks. “And this coat is designed to keep you warm, not mobile. See, it restricts your leg movement. How is that practical for a fight?”

 “It’s about the style,” I say. “Brand recognition. You want people to know—Oh! Speaking of style.”

In addition to the food stands that have set up around the grounds, some winter clothes vendors have popped up, too. The stall we’re currently walking past, run by a dryad and made of braided trees which cover the stall and keep out the snow, is selling coats, scarves, and hats.

“I bet they have a tricorn,” I tease.

Zyneth doesn’t bother acknowledging this. “Actually, we probably should grab you something from here.”

“Why?” I ask. “It’s not like I need to keep warm.”

“No, but you need to look like you need to keep warm,” he says. 

Fair point. In fact, I’m wearing less layers than he is. “Actually, this would be a good opportunity to upgrade my coat, too.” 

“I don’t think these ones are enchanted,” Zyneth says.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” I wander in under the woven branches. “I can just cut the spell circle off this one and put it on a new one, couldn’t I?”

“Er, no,” Zyneth says. “That’s not how it works.”

I pick out a coat and hold it up. The dryad doesn’t even stare at me. Sort of nice to just be seen as any other shopper instead of a servant, even if it is a disguise. “Well, I can get it enchanted later. But that’s beside the point. This ragged old thing is sure to draw more attention to me than something new. What about this one?”

My current coat, beneath the scorch marks and holes and frayed edges, is blue with gold buttons and trim. It’s always been a little bit gaudy for my taste, but its enchantment made it useful. The jacket I’m holding up for Zyneth is black with a much more subtle silver trim. It’s understated. Tasteful.

“It looks rather edgy, doesn't it?” Zyneth says.

“What! It is not.” Even so, I put the coat back. “And you are one to talk about things looking edgy, what with your whole rogue aesthetic going on.”

Zyneth just chuckles. Okay, so we both like to needle each other.

I eventually settle on a charcoal grey long coat. The merchant tries to talk me into a shorter, sharper coat that admittedly would look much better on me, but I actually do need the Jack Sparrow variety so it’s long and roomy enough to hide all the void that’s underneath. 

“What about a hat?” Zyneth suggests. “You don’t look much more bundled up than before.” 

Ink immediately rejects this idea; it would get in the way of our vision. 

I’m with Ink on this one. “That would be a bit annoying to balance,” I say. “I’d feel top-heavy.”

“Then, a scarf?” he suggests. He pulls a red one from the stand. 

Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I wrap it around the area where my neck should be, and use some glass to pin it in place. It doesn’t look half bad with the coat, either. 

“Yeah, I like it,” I say, checking my reflection. It’s still weird to see a different man’s face looking back. “I’ll get this one.” 

“You don’t want to try a different color?” Zyneth asks.

“No,” I say, looking at him. “I like red.”  

I count out the coins needed to pay and find I have just enough. After this, however, I’ll be scraping the bottom of the barrel once more. Caesius really was charitable to let me take a cut of the commissions I helped her with, but now that we’ve left Harrowood, I’ll have to find a new way to make money. 

Or, more likely, end up relying on Zyneth to pay for everything again. 

The bridges over the maze are already packed with people, so Zyneth and I stick to the boardwalk that circumscribes the outskirts of the labyrinth—more convenient for if we need to slip away, too. Even with our lesser viewing spot, the crowd steadily becomes more packed as the sun approaches noon, and airships dot the sky. We’re far enough north that the shadows never truly disappear, so it becomes hard to gauge the exact time. But I needn’t have bothered: When the time arrives, a stir goes through the crowd. 

There’s a person standing in the air. My soul flips with a moment of nervousness before I give the figure a Check. 

[Name: Zetaru]

[Title: Demigod]

[Species: Cambion]

[Class: Celestial Kindler]

[Level: 81]

[HP: 450/450]

[Mana: 5000/5000]

[Allegiance: Yua Tin]

A champion, not a god. And they don’t have a Role like Blair did. That’s interesting. So the only people who have Roles, at least that I’ve seen, are gods and Travelers. So far, we’re also the only ones that have access to the System. I have to assume those two are related. But would that mean champions don’t have System access?

“Welcome,” Zetaru says, her voice carrying easily over the field. The cambion’s complexion is a dark red, and she’s shrouded in twirling tassels of white cloth. Against the overcast sky and flurries of snow, it’s almost hard to look at her. A few of the spectator airships that are drifting over the maze angle away to give the champion a respectful berth.

“I am honored to facilitate the tournament today which will result in the ascension of a mortal to join my ranks.” Zetaru slowly rotates in the air as if to take us all in. Along with Zyneth and Attiru, she’s only the third cambion I’ve ever seen. It’s only now really sinking in how isolated their species seems to be. “Yua Tin will join us for the final leg of the competition. At this time, I would like to introduce the candidates.” 

“They won’t show up until the end?” I ask Zyneth. 

“It’s not unusual,” he says. “When the gods do grace our realm with their presence, it is typically only for brief periods of time.” 

Huh. That’s kind of weird. Or maybe it isn’t—what do I know? Blair also seemed reluctant to stay too long. Maybe they’re just busy. Though, you'd think picking out a new champion would be given at least a bit of time and consideration. 

The ten candidates are brought out at the front of the maze. Zyneth and I can’t see them from here, but Zetaru provides a brief biography for each of them. Then the competitors are arrayed around different entrances on the outside of the maze, and the crowd begins to murmur and shift with excitement. Zetaru outlines the goal of the tournament, which is exactly as we expected it to be: whoever can navigate the maze first, wins. 

“It doesn’t seem like most people will be able to see much,” I remark. “Only those on the boardwalks or airships over the maze. And even then, they’ll be limited to just the area around them. Seems like it will be kind of a boring competition to watch.”

Zyneth shrugs. “I suspect Yua Tin is more concerned with the outcome of the tournament than the convenience of the spectators.”

Zetaru looks down on the scene. After a dramatic pause, she calls out, “Begin!”

The walls of the maze vanish. Abruptly, it's an open field, with the ten contestants now visible around the edges. The audience startles at the sudden disappearance. I’m a bit confused as well. Why set up a huge maze just to remove it? 

It all becomes clear a few seconds later. 

The candidate nearest to our position starts forward at a jog—and immediately runs into something and crashes to the ground. The walls are still there; now they’re just invisible. 

I laugh. “Okay, I changed my mind. This is about to get really entertaining.” 

“I had wondered why the maze was created in advance,” Zyneth says. “It would have given all of the candidates ample opportunity to map out the correct path. This certainly is an interesting twist.” 

Some of the candidates are proceeding with arms outstretched before them. Others are striding confidently ahead. One candidate seems to have summoned a large amount of water, which they're using to map out the walls in front of them, much like my Elemental Radar spell. 

The spells start coming out in full force after that. Some are using gases or illusions to fill the passageways and reveal the maze. Others have created more intricate spells, like one that appears to have created an arrow which points them the right way. Two of the candidates' paths converge, and there's a brief standoff before one launches a binding spell at the other. The competition becomes even more chaotic when traps within the maze start activating, closing passageways and creating hazardous terrain. Pretty soon, it becomes a free for all. 

Now this is a sport I could get into.

We’ve only been watching for about ten minutes when Zyneth abruptly stiffens. I only notice because I’ve got vision turned on in all faces of my head. I remember a time when it used to feel disorienting, but these days I hardly think about it. 

Zyneth glances furtively around. 

“What is it?” I ask, voice low. Ink sits up in my mind, also scanning our surroundings. 

“I’m not sure,” Zyneth admits. “I think I just felt a spell.”

Then Echo speaks up. [Your magic has been identified]

Well that’s not good. I still can’t figure out where—

A figure abruptly appears behind us. I’m not sure how, because I’d been looking that way. It was like he just materialized, or I couldn’t quite notice him until this moment. 

Before I can turn around, he puts a hand on my and Zyneth’s shoulders. 

“Gentlemen. We need to talk.”