Realm of Monsters

The grey muddy clouds over Undergrowth began to clear as the noon sun shone over the forest city. The final duel of the tourney had ended over an hour ago, yet the crowds had not dispersed, in fact, they seemed more eager than ever.

The crowds eagerly cheered and applauded the seven individuals standing at the center of the ‘war-torn’ arena. 

Stryg glanced at the other six standing next to him; Ismene stood to his right, leaning on her cane as usual, though she seemed to be standing a little taller today, a small smile on her lips.

Tauri Katag held herself with silent composure, her back straight and her arms at her sides, the perfect picture of a dignified daughter of a Martial Great House. Cornelius Rotrusk on the other hand seemed to care little for aristocratic protocol, save for his own appearance. The dwarf’s black goatee was oiled and trimmed, and his green silk robes were without blemish. He would have seemed regal, if not for his incessant bragging and boisterous laughter.

Freya Goldelm was just as proud. Her golden hair was braided with more precious jewels than usual and it shone bright like fire under the sunlight. She held her arms open wide and had a large cocky grin on her face as she simply bathed in the glory of her team’s victory and the adoration of the crowd.

Callum Veres stood next to Freya, a few bandages still wrapped around his arms from his battle with the vampiress Kalliste Lilith. His dark hair was swept back and he wore the traditional black and red colors of his House. His face was a little paler than usual but otherwise, he seemed fine. He waved at the crowds, but he kept glancing back worriedly at Belle.

The 7 ft vampire hybrid stood to Stryg’s left and like him, Belle was covered in plenty of bloodied bandages, though they both hid them under their academy’s black cloaks. The healers had treated both finalists to the best of their magical abilities, but the healers warned Stryg and Belle that their white magic could only go so far, they would need much rest. Yet the healers’ warnings did nothing to stop either of them from standing with their teammates for the ceremony. 

Stryg’s body healed unnaturally quickly, but not nearly fast enough. All he wanted to do was lie down on a bed and forget about his body’s aches and pains. From the small grimaces Belle made, he guessed she did too, though she seemed to have relaxed a bit when the sun broke through the clouds.

As Stryg looked Belle’s injuries over, a small bundle of frustration formed in the pit of his stomach. He had seen Belle’s fight with Calex Thorn clearly, he had witnessed her golden flames overpower her enemy with ease. And yet, Belle had barely used her flames against Stryg.

He still wasn’t certain why they had both fallen unconscious during the middle of their duel or what had occurred during that time. He hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to Belle about it either. All he knew for certain was that when they woke up, their mana had been severely depleted. 

Belle’s flames had been severely hindered… In other words…

Sylvie was at a disadvantage… If it hadn’t been for whatever that interference was, I would have lost, Stryg thought sullenly.

He didn’t wish to say it out loud, but in his heart he knew, he knew, Belle was stronger than him.

“Chin up, child, you did well today,” Ismene whispered into his ear.

Stryg smiled half-heartedly, “...Thank you.”

“Don’t get too cocky. Next time I won’t just yield,” Belle smirked, though her voice held an edge to it.

Stryg nodded solemnly, “I look forward to it.”

As he stared into her scarlet eyes he made a silent promise to himself; one day, no matter what it took, he would become strong enough to face her as an equal. 

Tauri sighed frustratedly, “Dammit… Loh and Vayu should be here.”

“What?” Stryg blinked. Of all the people he knew, Tauri was the least he expected to utter those words.

Tauri crossed her arms, “I may not like it, but they deserve to stand with us. They both were deeply involved in your training.”

“...You’re right,” Stryg mumbled. He hadn’t spotted Vayu in the crowds and Loh had disappeared as well. He found himself hoping they were okay.

“I’m glad you’re able to see past your own personal feelings, Tauri,” Ismene nodded approvingly.

“Tauri’s personal feelings? What?” Cornelius’ ears perked up. “What are we talking about?”

“Nothing, go back to your ‘basking-in-glory,’” Tauri said.

Cornelius laughed, “Well, it was thanks to me that Stryg was able to master his triple enhancement spells, so I’d say a bit of glory is due.”

“I’d hardly call it learned, let alone mastered,” Tauri said dryly. “Stryg dropped to the ground like a seizure victim, not 10 seconds after he cast those spells.”

“And yet it was thanks to those spells that he was able to win,” Cornelius said proudly.

“They talk like we’re not right here,” Belle muttered.

“You get used to it,” Stryg said.

“Really?” Belle asked.

“No, it’s annoying,” Stryg said.

“I think the Shattered Blade helped Stryg more than his magic,” Tauri spoke over them.

“Shattered Blade?” Stryg asked as Tauri and Cornelius continued to argue.

Freya turned away from the crowds and pointed at Nameless, “Yeah, that’s what people are calling your sword. The Heralds called it that during your fight with Sylvie, didn’t you hear?”

“No, I was a little too busy trying not to die,” Stryg frowned.

Freya shrugged, “Oh, well, everyone’s been talking about it, the sword the Ebon Aspirant wielded; broken and yet with powers capable of defeating a swordmaster.”

“That’s not what happened,” Belle said, miffed.

“We know, but that’s how it goes with stories, embellished, and mixed with bits of truth,” Callum said sympathetically.

“Not much to be done about it. Renowned weapons usually have a sobriquet, it comes with the fame,” Freya said. “Like Feather, ‘The Fang of Fraxinus’ or my own House’s ancestral hammer, Oginum, ‘The Light of the North.’”

“But those are famous weapons. Nameless is just my sword,” Stryg shook his head.

Callum and Freya looked at each other, chuckled, and glanced at Stryg, “Exactly,” they said in unison.

“You are the first Ebon Aspirant of the century, the past two centuries to be precise,” Callum said. “Your weapon of choice is almost as important as your surname, if you had one that is.”

“Well, if you ask me, ‘The Shattered Blade’ seems fitting,” Belle smirked.

“It doesn’t make sense. I’m going to have the blade reforged, obviously,” Stryg said.

“Doesn’t matter at this point,” Belle laughed. “Your sword is stuck with its moniker.”

“I see…” Stryg stared at Nameless, hanging from his hip. Its name didn’t matter, not to him. All that mattered was the promise he swore on this sword. He had promised his best friend he would win the tourney for both of them.

We finally did it, Cly… we won, Stryg smiled softly.

“Tauri, Cornelius, stop your childish bickering at once,” Ismene snapped. “The Queen of Undergrowth is approaching.”

Ophelia Thorn stepped out of the western gate to the standing cheers of thousands. An entourage of servants and wagons followed behind her. Ophelia held her head up high and ignored the crowds with the aloofness of a queen. She walked with a purposeful stride and only stopped when she was a few paces from Stryg and the others.

Ophelia finally glanced at the crowds and raised her hands for silence. The spectators’ voices quickly grew dim as they sat down and awaited her words.

Ophelia slowly glanced at each of the Hollow Shaders and finally settled her eyes on Stryg. She narrowed her eyes, “I believe congratulations are in order.”

Stryg stared at her warily, but said nothing.

Ophelia turned to the thousands in the coliseum and smiled coldly, “I must admit I am surprised. Despite Hollow Shade’s team’s miserable loss in the Challenge of Fae & Flower, they managed to come in 2nd in the Challenge of Pillar & Sea, and somehow beyond comprehension…” Ophelia swallowed hard and tried to maintain her composure, “...Against all expectations, this team achieved 1st place in the Challenge of Spell & Steel.”

Ophelia glanced at the four youths standing a few paces from her, and nodded begrudgingly, “After 7 long years of consecutive losses, Hollow Shade has claimed victory in the Great Cities Tourney.”

The hundreds of visiting Hollow Shaders in the crowds broke into shouts and applause.

“But!” Ophelia raised her finger, silencing the spectators once more, “Before all of that. It is time to reward our victors with the Trinity Prizes.”

She snapped her fingers and the servants behind her tore away the tarps covering the wagons, revealing countless stacked logs.

“The first prize goes to the City of Shades. Undergrowth humbly offers a hundred logs of our finest ebony lumber, cut from the heart of Glimmer Grove forest.”

“On behalf of Hollow Shade, I thank you for your gift,” Ismene bowed her head. “Ebony is a very precious material and I am certain our master artisans will put it to great use.”

“I am certain they will,” Ophelia said dryly. She snapped her fingers once more and a pair of heavyset drows brought forth a steel chest.

With a quick whisper of a spell, Ophelia unlocked the chest and pulled back the steel lid. Four clear magestone gems, each the size of a child’s fist, were carefully tucked inside.

“Our city’s second gift goes to the team that grasped this year's victory,” Ophelia said. “To the four of you, we gift the greatest of magestones, cut from the deep mines of the Rupture Mountains. They are perfectly clear, without a single speck of imperfection, and will serve as the greatest component of whatever enchanted object you wish to have made.”

At Ophelia’s signal, the two burly servants gently placed the steel chest at the feet of Freya, the team’s captain.

Freya bowed her head in gratitude, though her small smile betrayed her excitement, “Thank you, Lady Thorn, for your city’s gift.”

“...My pleasure,” Ophelia bowed stiffly.

Stryg, Freya, Callum, and Belle did not notice Ophelia’s discomfort, their eyes were all focused on the four crystals shining under the sunlight with an inner lustrous glint.

“And last of all…” Ophelia closed her eyes painfully and tried to steady her breathing. After a few moments, her blue eyes opened slowly. “...The third and final Trinity Prize.”