The challenge had been postponed until the next day, to give the participlants enough rest after the chaotic events of the day before.
Blyke spent an hour of that day putting the sapling in a pot and learning how to take care of it, to his utter mortification, by Tim.
"Why do you need to know how to take care of this all of a sudden?" Tim asked. "There are probably several hundred people in the school you could tell to take care of it, and some that would want to."
"It's very important. I can't just give it to someone else," replied Blyke, sprinkling water over the sapling. Once the water started to leak from the holes in the bottom of the pot into the small tray beneath, Blyke put the watering can down and touched the plant to the stone in the ring on his finger.
Tim's eyes widened as the jewel flashed, the plant vanishing. "Where did you get a storage ring? Those are super expensive. So expensive some royals and aristocrats don't have them!"
"I got it from Asha."
Tim sighed, shaking his head. "Leave it to her to have one, if not hundreds more. She really couldn't spare one for me, too?"
"Why do you want one?" Blyke asked.
Tim's eyes twinkled, and Blyke almost regretted asking. Tim grabbed Blyke's arm and hauled him after as he skipped up the path to his own dorm-house.
As soon as the door was flung open, Blyke immediately understood why Tim would want a storage ring.
Except for a small corner with the bed, chest of drawers, lamp, and a small bookcase, the place was covered in potted plants. Ivy hung from the ceiling, morning glories climbed the walls, and the floor was a solid layer of different grasses.
Blyke winced. This guy had a Kitsune Amorai. How had he gotten so entangled in gardening? Especially when his element affinities were fire, earth, solar, and spirit.
He patted Tim's shoulder, turning to leave. "I'll ask Asha if she'll spare one for you."
Tim's eyes shone as Blyke closed the door behind him.
Blyke sighed. Of all the cadre members, Tim was the one with the least enmity for the others. He just liked being a smart ass. Ethelyn... she didn't seem to hate any of them, but she was... strange at best.
Blyke looked up at the sky. "Where are you," he whispered.
∽
"This will be a roster battle! One person from each school will battle, and the winner will face the next up from the opposing school. First school to run out of people on their roster looses."
"Let me go first," Tim said. "I need to burn some power."
"Fine," replied Daniel.
Amelia was watching the lineup. One of the schools had dropped out because they had no chance of winning, so there were fourteen teams going up to fight. Her eyes narrowed as they saw Solariya on the complete opposite of the brackets. That couldn't be a coincidence, could it?
Blyke seemed to notice, too, and his brows drew together as he tried to figure out why.
Amelia's doubts grew thicker. He was hiding something. Something that was very important. He knew who that girl was the day before, though she was cloaked and covered in black from head to toe. Her fingers became coated in frost, ice forming claws over her fingers. She reached up, claws nearing Blyke's throat. He was a liability. A weakness.
But then Amelia snapped out of it, the ice shattering into snow. Her hand went to her neck, scratching at the skin under her rib-length hair. She adjusted her collar before looking back up at the large screens that had been set up in the Great Hall. Then she looked back down, sitting on the bench and closing her eyes. "Tall me when it's my turn," she said.
"Will do," Blyke replied. A slightly smug tone fell into his tone as he said, "It probably won't be for awhile, though."
Amelia huffed a laugh in agreement.
.
"Hey. It's the last round. You might want to wake up for this."
Amelia jumped to her feet, eyes flying open in shock. Her frantic eyes met Blyke's. "D-did I fall asleep?" she asked.
Blyke nodded, an eyebrow raised. "You okay there? Nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Fine. Just startled." Amelia's hand inched up to her neck, but she dropped it. "What happened? Did Tim lose?"
Blyke snorted, "Of course not. It's the final round. I just wanted you to see this. It's against Solariya."
Amelia stretched her arms over her head. "I'd be surprised if Tim breaks a sweat on the first six. But that Jordan character..."
"Yeah. That's the only one I'm worried about, also," Blyke said. "I can't explain it because it's not my right, but when Asha gets back you'll have to ask about Argo and we'll all have to ask how she knows Jordan and that Amorai."
Amelia nodded sharply. They agreed on something, at least.
"Look. Here's the first deadman," Ethelyn said.
The cadre looked up at the screens, where Tim was waiting in the arena, his first opponent from Solariya walking from the elevator.
The cadre laughed as one person was beat after another, until Tim was yawning and Solariya was down to their last person.
The cadre sat down around the table, pulling a pitcher of cider to them, pouring it into seven cups. "To when we win it all!" Rosaria said, raising her cup and setting it back down.
"Win it all!" Luminine cheered back, raising their cups.
The cadre chatted, not really paying attention to the screens.
Then screams pierced the hall.
The cadre jumped to their feet, ready for action, but what everyone was pointing at wasn't an opponent, but the screens... the lens stained red.
Amelia cursed violently. What had happened?
Through the thick smear of blood, a figure materialized.
"That's not Tim," said Rosaria.
Amelia's fist clenched. They were right.
"I'm so sorry, Luminine," that cool, slightly amused voice said from the speakers. "But it seems like I got a bit carried away. Don't worry; he's not dead, yet. Who's the next challenger?"
"Let me go up," said Rosaria.
"No," snapped Daniel.
"You know this is the best solution for all of us. If the rest of us can wear him down, then the last person actually has a chance!" Rosaria looked away, teeth clenched. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be here when you win. But under no circumstances, don't let the bastard weaken your resolve to win! And don't let him lay a lethal hand on you."
Daniel's fingers twitched like he just wanted to destroy something. The black particles rose from his skin, hovering as Daniel tried to calm himself. His fingers twitched and the particles rushed upward, eating away one of the beams above in barely more than a second before rushing back into him.
That was the reason Daniel was the King. His Amorai was Oblivern, a unique wyvern that controlled Oblivinite. When Daniel had arrived, he dominated his year.
"Fine," he finally said. "Go, and give him hell."
Rosaria grinned, though her eyes held doubt and even fear. "Of course."
Amelia's eyes were fixed to the screen. She also felt the rising fear in the room. He'd beat Tim, and he wasn't just going to stop at him. Amelia knew this Jordan wouldn't stop until all of Luminine was crushed under his foot.
She glanced around the room, the rafters, the shadowed corners. They needed Asha. And maybe it made her a bitch for admitting it, but they wouldn't win without Asha. Not today.
∽
Rosaria walked onto the stage, anxious but prepared. She already knew what was going to happen. But she wasn't going to stop fighting. Not yet.
"Aquamarine Arena," Rosaria said, using her powers to turn the gears under the stage, causing thick glass panels to rise from the edges of the arena. They rose twenty feet up before Rosaria raised her arms, drawing on the water vapor in the air and the water in the lake, until a huge spere of water hovered above the arena.
Rosaria looked around her, scanning for Jordan, but he was nowhere to be found. Her lips curled. For now.
She dropped her hands, the globe of water crashing into the arena, so much it started to lap over the edges of the panels.
Artemesa was the furthest North of the seven continents, making it covered in snow for most of the year, meaning there was plenty of moisture to gather and weaponize.
Enough to fill an arena that could fit a football field in it.
Rosaria transformed into her second form, closing her eyes as she stretched out her senses to theri max. Soundwaves distorted in the water, but in her Mer form, she could hear better under the water than with her normal ears above.
A small ripple.
Rosaria's hand shot out in the direction she felt the small vibration, some of the water freezing into a long ice spear before shooting through the water. Part of her Mer transformation was the lateral line she gained running from her spine all the way to the V in her fins, making her very sensitive to pressure changes in the water.
The water where the spear had hurled turned pink.
Rosaria sneered. She'd hit him. Good.
But before Rosaria could attack again, her own ice spear shot back at her, going through the left fin. She cried out, sinking a few feet, trying to keep her tail moving through the pain and blood pouring from the thin, veil-like membrane. She felt the current change, but was too slow to dodge the black metal sword go through her other fin, impaling into the arena floor. She was stuck, unless she wanted to rip her fin apart like a knife through silk.
Rosaria crossed her arms over her face, gritting her teeth. The water around her froze into a cocoon around her before breaking off into sharp, glass-like shards, spiking out in every direction.
Again, the water tinted pink before a blow to the face jerked her head back, cracking against the arena floor. She tried to shake off the dizziness, but her vision swam before her, flickering in and out of focus.
'He doesn't have a water element. He'll suffocate as long as I can keep him underwater long enough,' she thought.
The next time a fist hit her face, she bit down as hard as she could, hanging on with all of her strength. If she could stay conscious long enough for Jordan to run out of breath, then she would win. She just had to... stay awake... until...
The water slowly drained, and when only ten feet remained, a figure broke the surface, shaking wet hair out of his eyes and gulping down air.
Jordan tred water until the rest of it drained, leaving Rosaria unconscious and still pinned down on the arena floor. He wiped his hand of the blood, looking slightly amused at the bite marks on his hand. "She almost got me," he said. His eyes traveled up, into the sky, as if he could see a figure with black wings sailing above. "But I can't lose. Not until the game is secured."
He pointed at the cameras. "Next," he ordered. It hurt him a bit to harm the people he was trying to protect, but it was necessary. For him, for his sisters, and for the woman he loved. He was willing to become a monster if it meant protecting the country he called home, protecting the spirits of those who'd been killed all for something as sick and twisted as a crown, a throne, something as fickle as power.
His lips curled in a snarl. That's right. That's what the world was built on. Power, and titles. Only the strong would live a true life, the weak living only to be trampled upon by those who were stronger.
So Jordan put that nasty grin on his face as the next victim stepped on the stage. 'Blame me,' he shouted in his head. 'Blame it all on me! Show me your revenge! Make me want to stop all of this! Make me want to give up on my plans!' Even in his desprate mental cries, there was another, smaller voice inside him whimpering. 'Kill me. Please. Before I destroy myself. Before I destroy the ones I love. Please, kill me, and send me to wait for the one I love."
More than turning himself into a monster, he was willing to break himself into a million pieces, though he knew... If that happened, there would be no way to put him back together again.