Realm of Monsters

The coliseum’s southern gate slowly opened with the sharp clank of chains. The crowds cheered the name of their beloved and feared ruling House over and over, “THORN, THORN, THORN!!”

Freya watched from the other end of the arena, pacing back and forth in the white sands, staring at the dark tunnel entrance.

Calex Thorn stepped out with a soft, measured gait. His silver hair shined with a lustrous glow under the noon sun. His white robes seemed to almost blend with his hair and pale grey skin, making him seem almost ethereal. He smiled serenely and waved at his people who cheered even louder.

Freya spotted the black scabbard hanging from his white belt and furrowed her brow. I thought he didn’t use weapons…

“Decided to take up sword training the last few days?” Freya called out.

Calex looked at her in silence for a moment before he took a deep breath and spoke with a quiet voice, “Freya of the House of Goldelm, I humbly ask that you please forfeit this match, for both of our sakes.”

“What…? What did you just say?” Freya shook her head.

“Before the Heralds begin this match, declare that you have forfeited this match. It is the only way that this does not end with bloodshed.”

Freya glared at him and hefted up her hammer, “I’m not afraid of a little bloodshed. Or are you such a coward that you rather run than fight?”

“Maybe I am a coward,” he whispered. “If it were up to me I wouldn’t fight you. I’d surrender right now.”

“Then why don’t you?” Freya asked skeptically.

“I can’t,” he said painfully, “I have someone I must protect.”

“Protect…?”

“Please, I’m begging you, surrender,” Calex bowed his head.

“What are you… what are you saying!?” Freya frowned. 

Who was this timid, fearful drow? This wasn’t what she had envisioned at all. Calex was a powerful, aloof genius, a being who stood above others. She had been prepared to face a vicious, cold-hearted foe, not… this!

She didn’t understand. None of it made sense!

“And what if I refuse!?” she shouted.

Calex smiled sadly.

“MAY THE 12TH MATCH OF THE CHALLENGE OF SPELL & STEEL… BEGIN!” Jane and Mark yelled in unison.

“Goodbye,” Calex whispered.

Freya’s golden eyes widened in alarm. Orange mana surged from her heart and flowed into her legs. Her veins darkened to a grey as the agility spell took hold.

Move! her instincts yelled.

She jumped to her right before she saw it. A flash of white light whizzed right past her, searing a black spot into the arena’s wall behind her.

Calex’s fingers moved with quick and short gestures. Small flowers of white light blossomed above his head before bursting into beams of white light, streaming across the arena.

Freya kicked off the ground and zigzagged across the sands, ducking below the beams as they struck in rapid succession. The sands exploded around her in explosions of white light, blurring her vision.

Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears and her chest felt tight. But through the blowing sand and her hazy vision, she saw a white silhouette ahead of her. He hadn’t moved. Her target stood still, confident in his abilities to keep him safe.

It didn’t matter how fast of a spell-caster he was if his focus was broken.

Freya gripped her hammer tight, pulled her arm back, and flung her hammer at Calex. The hammer whirled and threw the air, spinning in a blur, straight at its target. Calex stiffened at the sight and his hands froze. He threw himself to the side and landed on the sand in a roll. He quickly jumped to his feet, but Freya was already above him, her clenched fist poised to strike.

Freya struck at Calex's face. His blue eyes grew cold, he did not flinch nor try to dodge. Calex leaned into the blow as yellow scales wrapped around his grey skin in an instant. Freya’s fist slammed into his scaled forehead and bent at an awkward angle. She screamed as pain shot up her broken wrist. Calex’s head snapped back from the blow. He stumbled back a step but he quickly regained his footing.

Freya jumped several meters away and held her broken gingerly while staring at her opponent warily. She cursed silently at her own foolishness.

I shouldn’t have let go of my hammer, she thought and glanced at her weapon lying in the sand a few paces away.

She cast a White healing spell over her hand and kept an eye on Calex. It would take too long to heal her wrist but she could at least dampen the pain long enough to focus.

Calex stared at her calmly and released his Yellow durability spell, “You are faster than I thought.” 

Grey veins darkened over his hands.

Agility magic!

Freya recognized the Orange spell and swiftly stopped her healing spell, before channeling her own agility magic. 

Calex simply watched her, without moving a step. “I am sorry for this,” he whispered.

Freya ignored his words and dashed towards her hammer. Her good hand reached out and gripped the leather handle. A grey smudge appeared in the corner of her eye. Pain bloomed across her side and her right ribs cracked with a sickening crunch.

She gasped out a short breath of pain, then swiftly turned to face her enemy, but Calex swerved around and struck with his sheathed blade. The black scabbard struck her left side, this time with a more precise swing, breaking three ribs in one swipe. Freya stumbled forward and swung her hammer wildly around. 

Calex’s form blurred past the attacks and stepped in close. Freya jumped away, pain stretching across her rib cage at the movement. Calex disappeared in a flash. 

Behind me! Freya spun around.

The black scabbard struck both her knee caps with a heavy blow, sending Freya tumbling to the ground.

Freya wheezed weakly, each breath felt as if shards of ice were digging into her lungs. She couldn’t feel her legs below her knees and her left wrist rested limply on the sand. It had all happened so fast, she hadn’t had time to react.

She stared up at Calex and grimly realized the truth.

He’s faster than Stryg…

Calex stood over her, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “It didn’t have to come to this…”

Freya licked her lips and swallowed, “...I’ve had worse.”

Freya stretched open her right hand and orange flames swirled to life over her palm. Calex jumped away and the bolt of flame flew into the air harmlessly and sputtered into smoke.

Calex sighed, “Your flame spells won’t reach me.”

Freya held her breath, clenched her teeth tight, and sat up with a painful grimace. She took short breaths and glared at the calm drow. She didn’t want to admit it, she didn’t want to utter the words. She was done running away, she was done avoiding her problems… and yet she knew it was over.

Freya thought of Sylvie’s giddy smile and Stryg’s puzzled, yet savage eyes. They had already made it to the semi-finals. After 7 years of consecutive losses, they could finally carry the Hollow Shade name to victory. They could do it, they could defeat this damn Thorn bastard.

“It’s up to you guys…” Freya mumbled under her breath.

Tears of frustration and agony slipped down her cheeks. She pushed her loose golden hair back and looked steadily at Calex, “I… I surrender.”

Calex glanced at the private upper terrace. He knew his mother was looking at him, watching his every movement, his every decision.

He glanced back at Freya and whispered, “I am sorry.” He poured blue mana into his arm. Lightning crackled over his fingers and he pointed his outstretched hand at the golden-haired dwarf.

“What are you doing?” Freya scowled in confusion, “I said, I surrender! The fight’s over!”

“...Farewell, Freya of the House of Goldelm,” he said solemnly.

Blue electricity streaked out from his hand. A stone wall erupted out from the sand and shielded Freya’s small form. Stone and lightning exploded in a storm of smoke and sand. Freya cried out in shock and shielded her face.

Calex frowned in bewilderment.

What just happened? he thought. Freya Goldelm is not a green. How did she–!

A figure suddenly kicked off the front row of the stands and jumped up high into the air. Calex leaped away as the figure came crashing down in an eruption of sand.

As the sand settled around them, a lone figure stood in front of Freya; a giant vampiress with warm olive skin and scarlet hair that burned bright under the sunlight.

Calex cocked his head to the side, “...The dire–?”

Sylvie dashed at him with blinding speed. Calex raised his scabbard to block, but the blow came too soon. He grimaced in pain as his body was launched away like an arrow. He spun in the air and managed to land on his feet with a wobbly stance.

Calex looked over his body in shock. Pain stretched across his shoulder, his arm hung limply at his side.

H-how?! he thought, baffled. The woman had surprised him, but he was the one using agility magic! He should have been easily able to react to her attack. He had underestimated her, she was faster than he expected.

Calex stared across the arena at the vampiress, “Now where did you come from…?”

Freya looked up at Sylvie, confused at what she saw. Her giant friend’s usual warm-hearted smile was cold, bereft of feeling.

Sylvie’s massive shoulders heaved up and down. Her breath was rough and her hands were clenched tight. Her blood-red eyes seemed to almost glow with a fury that wanted to come out. Her lips curled back with a malicious smile, “Come back here, you cowardly excuse for a duelist!”

“What?” Calex frowned.

“You heard me! You think I’ll just let you kill my friend, you fucking coward!” Sylvie roared. “How about you face someone your own size for a change!?”

Calex narrowed his eyes, “...I see. I have to take this one seriously,” he whispered and gripped Nightshade’s pale pink hilt.

“STOP!” Ophelia screamed from her terrace and leaped down. The wind carried her above the coliseum’s stands and dropped her softly on the arena’s white sands.

The crowds looked at their queen with surprise and began whispering amongst each other.

“THIS IS A SURPRISE, FOLKS! LADY THORN HAS DESCENDED UPON THE ARENA, HERSELF!” Mark yelled.

Sylvie stared at Ophelia cautiously and stepped between her and Freya.

“Get off the arena, you foolish girl,” Ophelia snapped. 

“Make me,” Sylvie growled.

Ophelia sneered, “You have interfered in a duel of Spell & Steel and have therefore broken the rules of our sacred tourney. As such you are banned from this tourney henceforth.”

“What!? That’s not fair!” Sylvie shouted.

“Are you resisting my judgment as host of this year’s tourney?” Ophelia smiled, amused. “Then I shall punish you accordingly.”

“You will do no such thing!” Ismene shouted.

A funnel of water wrapped around Ismene’s legs and ferried down from the stands and released her next to Sylvie and Freya.

“I thought you were more prudent, Tempest Archmage,” Ophelia clicked her tongue. “Will you go against our tourney’s sacred rules as well, then? Believe me, not even you will come out of this unscathed.”

Ismene rested both hands over her cane and stared at Ophelia with a steely gaze, “Sylvie committed no crime nor broke any rule. Freya announced her surrender quite clearly, as the thousands of people here today can attest to. Calex had ample time to back down, but he chose to strike Freya down anyway. The duel was already over. Sylvie was just protecting her friend from being murdered in broad daylight.”

“Murdered!?” Ophelia shouted indignantly.

“Quite so,” Ismene said calmly. “And as you know, a tourney competitor killing one of their adversaries outside of a Challenge is a strict violation of the tourney’s sacred rules.”

“You dare threaten my son… YOU DARE!?” Ophelia screamed.

“You may think yourself all-powerful in your own city, but I assure you that the representatives of the other Great Cities standing in this coliseum will not abide by such blatant disregard for our shared treaties.”

“That’s…!” Ophelia clenched her jaw.

“Now, of course, perhaps your son was simply caught in the heat of battle. He is still young and may have simply forgotten himself for a brief moment. If that is the case, then this is all just one big accident and should be left Just. As. That. Do we have an understanding, Lady Thorn?” Ismene said smoothly.

Ophelia took a deep breath and nodded, “...We do, Lady Ismene… for now.” She spun on her heel and left.

“Good,” Ismene slammed her cane into the ground. “Sylvie, take Freya to the infirmary.”

“Yes, professor,” Sylvie nodded. She glanced at Calex in the distance and smiled coldly, “I’ll see you at the semi-finals.”

Calex nodded solemnly, “So be it.”