The Gardens and Training Fields were locked up with tourists and festivalgoers, with hardly space for a first-circle spell, much less something as dramatic as a fifth. At Thron's recommendation, I slipped through the passages to the Arena, high in the mountains overlooking the Divine Throne.
As the platform rose, I closed my eyes, lost in the memories of the duel. I was no longer the same girl from a few weeks ago, but the horrors of the duel were ingrained in my mind. The War Hero's merciless promise from the banquet rang in my ears, and I clasped my hands together, grateful I had evaded participating in the tournament.
When at last the magical lift reached the arena floor, I looked around, blinking in the morning sun. The stands, which had been filled with tens of thousands of people, were now abandoned. A lonely breeze wound its way through the stone aisles, curling over the inner walls and ruffling my hair.
