Ulmir's Domain, First Day of The Contest. The Champions' Lounge.
High Priest Utar sat on an ivory chair. Despite his height and herculean built, he looked small in the throne that served as a seat for Gods. A shadow appeared in front of him, out of thin air.
"What's the status?" the shadow asked in a rough voice.
"Someone drained the Vein of its Essence," Utar replied. "My gut feeling says it's Darkstar. He's left trails all over the realm. He's been to the Canyons, the Four Seasons and the Gardens. I don't know how one man is capable of all that."
"This Darkstar will be the end of you Utar," the shadow paced through the Lounge as it spoke. "How do you know he's here?"
"I know the Darkstar's Fragment when I sense it. But this one seemed weaker than the one I encountered long ago. My guess is that Vaneel killed him when he self-destructed."
"This man knew about Omega, he wouldn't die easily to a Lord Class Familiar. He must be lurking somewhere. Find him! Next time it won't be me who pays you a visit."
The shadow disappeared, leaving Utar alone in the Lounge. A large monitor in front of him relayed live images of the Contest.
"Javad!" Utar shouted.
A short thin man appeared shortly afterwards. He knelt then bowed. His head almost touched the well-polished marble floor as he did so. "Reverend Father, what are your orders?"
"Monitor every champion in the Castle. Put extra men to guard their rooms and their original bodies. I want every movement to be reported to me immediately."
"Right away, Reverend Father." The man made to leave but the High Priest stopped him with a hand wave.
"Have you sent the Ayala Sample to the mad scientist?"
"We have. He says he'll have something for us by the morrow."
"Stay on Darkstar's trail. I want to know where he was last seen. I don't care how you do it. Now go."
After Javad was dismissed, Utar let out a heavy sigh then walked towards the large monitor in the Lounge. Photons were small insects that resembled fireflies. Their tiny bodies could emit all colors. If they were to be linked together, they wouldn't just transmit the images their Alfa relayed. If they all shared a mental link, they could relay what they could see to other monitors as well, Utar's observation monitors. It was that way that the High Priest kept a tight grip on Ulmir's Castle.
'If Darkstar's here, it must only mean one thing,' Utar thought as he inspected the images relayed to him. He'd put Photons in every War Chamber and every Champion's room. They had an intruder in the realm and they had to find him. 'Perhaps he can lead us to the Fragment. But if he had actually died against the Faery, then I'd have expended our resources for nothing but a goose chase.'
A shadow appeared behind Utar.
"Your Excellency," the High Priest said as he turned around. "What can I do for you?"
"Stalwart," the emperor's aunt said in a callus voice.
"He is not the Stalwart you seek. I've been thorough, searched through his soul."
"It can't be," the shadow played with its dark hair. "The resemblance is uncanny."
"Would you like us to dispose of him? Just to be sure?" Utar asked.
"No, I do not want Kozag to suspect anything. What about the soldiers?"
"Killed by Darkstar, a man I once hunted. He's a ruthless, cold blooded killer."
"Have you apprehended him?"
"I'm afraid his trail has gone cold your Excellency. My men are looking for him as we speak. He couldn't have left this realm. We would know it otherwise."
"I want this man apprehended and delivered unto our hands."
"Yes your Excellency. We shall find him before the end of the Contest."
"I trust your Lord has also expressed concern regarding this matter." the woman's shadow got closer to the High Priest. "I'd get to work if I were you…"
The shadow disappeared, leaving the High Priest gnawing on his fingernails. 'He will kill me if I don't find Darkstar,' he thought while observing the monitor. 'Or worse…'
***
Back at the Training Arena, Myles' new avatar had found his way to the armory. Utar gave him a token to be delivered to the Quartermaster. He stood by the wooden counter, waiting for his turn.
"You're a skilled one," a voice behind him spoke. "Who's your master?"
Myles turned around to see a bronze skinned man. He was wearing purple clothes and had a yellow belt around his waist.
'Vyk, you slimy bastard, you survived!' He was the man who tried to steal his sword back in the Canyon Labyrinth. He was a veteran who took part in the Hunt multiple times. Alas, the man had never won the Contest. He always came back, each time with a different team at his heels, in hopes of wining the gold.
"Get lost!" Stalwart turned then looked for the Quartermaster who seemed to be arguing with a woman.
Myles felt a tap on his left shoulder. He turned to see a fist closing in on his face. It only took him a fraction of a second to fully comprehend what was about to happen. The punch landed. Stalwart stumbled back and fell against the counter.
"What d'ya think you're doing?" a man with a chiseled jaw and long black hair asked. "No one talks to my friend like that."
Myles swept the blood from his mouth. He looked at the two bullies with burning eyes.
"All fighting's done in the arena!" The Quartermaster suddenly appeared behind them. He held a smoking pipe between his blue lips. "Gotta blow off some steam? Use the dummies, they don't fight back."
Vyk and his friend scoffed then walked away. "This ain't over!" the bully shouted at Myles.
"Get lost!" was Stalwart's answer.
"Nasty bunch these two," the Quartermaster spoke after they left. "Name's Great, what can I do you for?"
He was a short man, five feet tall at most. There was a hole instead of his left eye. A nasty scar traveled from his forehead to his lower jaw. When he smiled, he revealed blackened teeth, rotten by the herbs he always put in his smoking pipe. There was something stuck between his front teeth. It was quite eye-catching.
"Great? That's your name?" Myles asked.
"I'm good at what I do, yeah I'm Great. What's it to you?" the short man retorted. He took a long puff from his pipe then released blue smoke from his long nose.
"I'm surprised, that's all, never heard this name before."
"Well buckle up kid, you're in for a whole lot of shit names in this hole."
"The High Priest gave me this." Myles produced the token from his pocket then handed it to the short man.
"What d'ya do to earn such a gift?" the Quartermaster asked, impressed.
"Rather what has been done to me," Myles commented. "What do I get with this?"
"Private quarters and all the holes you can put your thing in." He took a puff from his pipe, smiled as fumes left his nostrils then spoke again. "How d'ya like 'em?"
"Come again?" Myles asked.
"You were offered one night in Heaven by the High Priest himself. I'll get someone to get ya there. Ya can think of your likings then. We'll produce 'em to ya however ya like 'em. Bald, with tits or without, heck we can even get ya those little furry ones if ya like."
"What's up with your accent? It's all over the place."
"The one thing I'm not good at kid. Otherwise they'd call me Perfect." Great started laughing. His lungs wheezed as he struggled to catch his breath.
"You're not great at staying healthy either. That thing will kill you."
"My grandmother, bless her soul, lived to be two hundred. Ya wanna know her secret?" the Quartermaster said as he took another puff from his pipe. Blue smoke left his nostrils as he exhaled.
"She smoked that shit you put in your lungs?" Myles asked, uncertain.
"For two centuries, that old hag's always minded her own fucking business. Now ya mind yours boy or you won't get any of those titties the High Priest promised ya."
"I was led to believe the Quartermaster has to obey the High Priest's orders." Myles was trying to intimidate the man called Great.
"Bad move kid. Utar gave me no order. He simply handed you a useless piece of wood that I happened to toss away and forget who gave it to me. How's that?" Great smiled. The piece of meat stuck between his front blackened teeth was peeking at Myles. It irritated him but he couldn't risk offending the Quartermaster any longer.
"I apologize for my playful behavior," he finally conceded.
Great took another puff then released a smoky serpent. It didn't look like a trick done by a smoker. The serpent looked alive. It flew to Myles, its blue scales shone as it hit his face then dissipated. "So how d'ya like 'em?"
"Let's trade," Myles answered. "I'll let you have the token if you tell me how you managed to produce that snake."
Great's eyes widened. His pipe fell to the ground, his mouth agape. "Ya sure? We have the best playthings in all six realms. The best Ulmir's magic can produce."
"That snake got me more interested than all the tits Ulmir can provide."
"Well I'll be damned kid. Why d'ya throw a night in Heaven away?"
"I'm sure you'll do just great in my stead. So how about it?" Myles asked. "Will you tell me about the snake?"
"Not today big boy," the Quartermaster answered. "Come see me tomorrow before they swarm the place. I'll tell ya about it when there're less ears and eyes."
"Enjoy your night in Heaven then," Myles answered. He took another token from his pocket and handed it to Great. "While we're waiting for your revelation. Could you have a look at my sword? Here's the token I was given if I were to retrieve it."
"I'm no smith," the Quartermaster took another puff then released the blue snake again.
"I just want you to look at it. You seem like a wise warrior. You might tell me who can fix it for me." Myles leaned towards the Quartermaster. "It's quite rare, and well protected. I wouldn't recommend inspecting it with Essence."
"How am I to take a look at it then?"
"You'll understand once you see it. Oh and I'll need a bigger sword than this one. I'll come collect it tomorrow. Have a Great night!"
Myles left the Training Arena towards the Green Quarters. Champions were separated by color in the preliminary round. The survivors would be provided better accommodation and a change of gear the next day, if they survive it.
After dinner, Stalwart found his bed then lay down. He needed to take a rest after the long eventful day he'd had. He didn't have his original body after all. He needed to eat and drink to survive and recollect his strength.
"Your fight didn't even last ten breaths," a young man popped up beside him.
Myles sighed heavily, reluctantly opened his eyes then looked at the newcomer. "What do you want?" he asked.
"Can you teach me some of your tricks? I swear I'll never use them against you."
"What's your name?"
"Eric," the young man asked. There was something peculiar about his eyes. Myles noticed a red light flickering in the pupils as the young man spoke.
"Are you after the prize?"
"Of course!" the young man proudly replied. "But I don't think I can win against you. I saw you fight, you're brilliant."
"This is a fighting contest boy." Myles sat on the bed, pulled Eric by the collar towards him then said. "We fight to the death here. If it weren't forbidden to kill you here, you'd be missing a head right now. Go sleep, and leave me the fuck alone! Do I make myself clear?"
The young boy nodded then quickly retreated.
"What a fucking day;" Myles blurted as he lied down again. "Fucking stupid day!" He closed his eyes and sleep soon came to him.
He dreamed of a woman's voice gently whispering in his ears. She'd lick his lips then gently bite them. Her soft hands caressed his chest, counting the scars he'd gotten during his countless battles. Her moist breath and soft kisses gave him Goosebumps. Her gentle fingers travelled from his arms to his chest, then down to his abdomen. She was teasing him. He liked it more than he expected.
He couldn't recognize who she was but he had a feeling he knew her. There was something about her voice, that part where it just seems to break when she speaks excitedly. He could smell her body as she came closer to him, breathing down his neck. He felt her soft fingers following the scars on his back, shoulders and abdomen.
"That's a new one," he heard her say as she touched one of his scars. "Where'd you get it?"
"Last month during the siege on Awamiran," he heard himself answer. He tried to hold her by the chin, get a closer look at her. But he couldn't move. He was definitely having a strange dream. "He was a giant of an armored man," he was still speaking, answering her question. "His halberd almost cut me in half."
"Glad you're lucky," the woman giggled as her fingers travelled down towards his lower abdomen. "Luck always brings you back to me."
"Like a moth drawn to fire," he heard himself jokingly say. He grabbed her from the back then swiftly turned her around. He was finally able to move in this strange dream.
Or was he?
At second thought, Myles realized that his body moved on its own. He was reliving some memory he promised himself to bury. The woman beside him, he remembered, was his lover eons ago. The voice he heard wasn't hers though.
He had her pinned down. When he looked at her face, it suddenly became blurry, a messy bunch of flesh without any facial features to it. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked after finally realizing he wasn't, technically speaking, dreaming.
"You've avoided me today," the voice told him. "I don't do well with rejection."
"I-" Myles started but was immediately interrupted by the faceless woman. She put her index finger on his lips then spoke.
"You offered your place to that one eyed dwarf?" she was shouting.
"Could you just-"
"I rule this world Stalwart!" the faceless woman stood. Her naked body towered above him. He couldn't even see her face anymore. She was like a mountain and he was lying by the base. "Why are you here?"
"Are you one of Utar's little messengers?" Myles asked. "From here, I can see your dark galaxy pretty clearly."
The woman disappeared then reappeared by his right shoulder. She was as small as his Fairies this time. "You're an insolent little shit, aren't you?" she wishpered in his right ear.
"And you're that kid Eric, aren't you? You've verified my dreams now. Go tell Utar I'm just as perverted as the guy in bed next to me."
"How did you know?" the little woman disappeared, transformed into the young man who had just spoken to him.
"I don't like Marons. I can smell them even without my original body. Now get lost. I've got a tough fight tomorrow."
The creature left Myles to his comfortable dreams about his family and old friends. The night went by quicker than he'd hoped it to be. When morning broke, he had to drag his feet to the breakfast table. He was offered stale oatmeal with fruits on top. He mechanically chewed on the food then went to the Training Arena.
"How was your night?" he asked the Quartermaster who came to greet him.
"Best night of my life!" Great answered. "Yours?"
"Can't complain," he answered. "Will you tell me about the snake before people start barging in?"
"I can give ya my memories if ya help me with something. I bet it's better than me telling ya a lousy story."
"That wasn't our agreement," Myles protested.
"Well I can tell ya a story alright. But I can give ya better," Great leaned in closer, looked around him to make sure no one was eavesdropping or observing them. "A memory, a fragment, what d'ya say?"
"What do you want in return?" Myles asked. "And stop looking around like a paranoid lunatic. You'll attract more attention."
"Get me out of here."
Myles saw fear in Great's eyes. "The Quartermaster wouldn't ask to leave this heaven if it weren't serious. What's happening?"
"Utar's monitoring everyone. He's watching right now but I'm godamn sure he's not suspecting ya." The Quartermaster whispered. Photons could relay clear images but their hearing wasn't the best. They needed to be close enough to hear whispers.
"Why do you want to escape now?" Myles' eyes narrowed, large creases formed between his eyebrows.
"There's an intruder in the Castle. He's already caused trouble last night. But ya were sleeping wanted boy. Eyewitnesses put ya in bed when the attack happened."
"You haven't answered my question yet."
"What I'm getting at is yer hiding something. Yer sword has a strange air about it. I inspected it last night. I don't care what it is, but as of now, yer buying my silence pretty boy."
"I don't like blackmail one eye!"
"And I don't like danger." The Quartermaster lit up his pipe, took some puffs then resumed talking. "There's an old saying. Necessity is invention's bloody momma. I'm necessitating an exit from this tight spot yeh put me into. And you seem to be needing the memory of that long slimy snake. Get me outa here, and the fragment's yours."
"Hand me a sword," Myles suddenly blurted. He'd heard footsteps approaching the Arena.
"What?"
Myles looked at the Quartermaster with an air of seriousness about him. "I said hand me a fucking sword. It'd be better than yesterday's."
Great disappeared behind the numerous ails on which weapons and armor were aligned. He came back a minute later holding a great sword, sheathed in a black leather scabbard. Upon returning, the Quartermaster saw two other champions at the counter, waiting to be served. Myles pretended to inspect the sword while the two champions retrieved their weapons.
"I'll get the sword out of your hands. Utar won't come for you or suspect you, how about that?" Stalwart asked after the champions left.
"It's a start," Great answered. "I still wanna get out of 'ere."
"Hand me one of those great swords you hang out back," Myles said.
"It's too heavy for an avatar," Great warned.
"I'm stronger than most," Myles answered. "Besides, I'll only swing it a few times."
Great disappeared then reappeared carrying a heavy chunk of steel. "This one's used to slay dragons boy. What d'ya think ye'll do with it?"
"Make an impression." Myles smiled then lifted the heavy sword with two hands. He managed to keep it up for more than ten seconds then was forced to drop it. It was too heavy. "Pretty good," he said as he inspected it. "There will be a signal by the end of the Contest. Follow it and you'll leave this realm. You'll only get one chance so you'd better make it on time."
With those words, Myles left the Quartermaster to his worries. He wanted to take his new weapon for a spin.