The coliseum was a marvel of architectural grandeur, its towering stone walls carved with intricate reliefs depicting legendary battles of old. Tall banners bearing the insignia of the kingdom flapped in the gentle breeze, and the grand archways at the entrance exuded a sense of both foreboding and excitement. From the outside, it looked like a fortress dedicated to war and spectacle, its domed structure glistening under the midday sun.
Inside, the atmosphere was electric. The roar of the crowd reverberated through the stone walls, a deafening cacophony of cheers, jeers, and gasps. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, dust, and the faint tang of blood—a stark contrast to the grandeur of the seats lined with gilded railings and plush cushions for the nobles, while the common folk stood shoulder to shoulder in the higher tiers. The arena floor, a wide expanse of packed dirt and sand, bore the scars of countless battles—stains of blood and deep gouges where weapons had clashed.
The crowd surged as two combatants faced off in the center of the arena. One was a hulking man clad in dark iron armor, his greatsword glinting ominously in the sunlight. His opponent, a lithe woman with flowing blue hair, wielded twin curved blades that danced like liquid steel in her hands. The announcer's voice boomed across the arena, introducing the fighters and setting the stakes of the battle, his words punctuated by the crowd's fervent cries.
The fight began with a clash of steel that sent sparks flying. The armored warrior's blows were heavy and relentless, each swing of his greatsword creating shockwaves in the sand. The woman, however, moved like a shadow, her movements almost ethereal as she darted around his strikes. Her blades flashed in the sunlight, landing precise cuts on her opponent's armor. The fight was a brutal dance of strength versus speed, every strike and parry met with roaring approval or collective gasps from the crowd.
Between matches, various displays of skill and power took the stage. Resonance skill users showcased their abilities—one fighter ignited flames that danced around his body, scorching the sand as he moved, while another summoned tendrils of stone from the ground, shaping them into jagged spikes to trap his opponent. Each bout was a spectacle, a blend of raw talent, strategy, and sheer will to survive.
Overhead, the sun cast dramatic shadows across the arena, highlighting the fighters and amplifying the tension in the air. Every cry of triumph or anguish echoed through the stands, a reminder of the stakes involved. Here in the coliseum, glory and ruin were decided in moments, and the crowd was ravenous for more.
*
We were seated in one of the private booths overlooking the coliseum, a courtesy extended to us thanks to Cerys' connections. She leaned back in her seat, her green eyes casually following the fight below with what seemed like faint interest, though I suspected she was far more observant than she let on.
"How does this work?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. It was my first time at the coliseum, and the clash of weapons and roar of the crowd were both exhilarating and unnerving. I wasn't sure if the warriors in the arena fought to the death or if it was simply for entertainment.
Cerys glanced at me and smirked at my naivety. "You've never been to an arena before, have you?"
I shook my head.
She stretched slightly, her gaze returning to the fighters below. "Alright, listen up. The arena's mostly about entertainment. Fighters compete to show off their skills, earn coin, and sometimes make a name for themselves. Killing, however, is strictly forbidden. This is a place for combat, not slaughter."
I nodded, but my eyes stayed glued to the fight below, where two resonance warriors were trading blows. Sparks flew as one's blade was enveloped in fire, while the other used bursts of wind to dodge with impossible agility.
Cerys gestured at them. "Those two? Probably seasoned arena fighters. Most battles are non-lethal. They use their resonance skills to show off, but the real challenge is fighting without landing a kill shot. Anyone who kills without permission is banned—or worse."
I raised an eyebrow. "Without permission?"
She shrugged. "Sometimes the coliseum hosts special life-and-death matches, but those are rare. They're usually for criminals condemned to fight for survival or duels sanctioned by the king for personal disputes. Otherwise, the arena is about control and skill."
"So why do people fight here?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Plenty of reasons," she said, counting on her fingers. "Some fight for coin—there's a hefty purse for winners. Others do it for fame. A skilled fighter can draw the attention of nobles or even land themselves a high-ranking position in the royal guard or military. And then there are those who just love the thrill of combat."
I nodded, absorbing her words. "What about the bets?"
She smirked. "Ah, now that's where it gets interesting. The audience—commoners and nobles alike—place bets on everything. Who'll win, how long the fight will last, or even what kind of resonance skills will be used. The more unique a fighter's style, the more the crowd loves them."
"So it's not just a fight. It's also a performance."
"Exactly." Cerys grinned. "You're starting to get it. But don't let that fool you. Some of these fighters are brutal. They may not kill, but they'll push their opponent to the brink of breaking. It's part of the show."
I couldn't help but glance back at the fight. The fire-wielding warrior had forced his opponent into a corner. The crowd roared as he unleashed a searing wave of heat, but the wind-wielder used a sudden burst of air to launch himself over the flames, earning cheers of admiration.
"You come here often then?" I asked, leaning back and trying to sound casual, though my curiosity was genuine.
"Every now and then," she replied, her eyes focused on the fighters below. "Sometimes I even compete. It's a good way to test myself against different resonance skills. Facing all kinds of opponents forces you to adapt and keeps you sharp."
"Sounds like you live for this," I said with a teasing smile.
Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing at all," I said quickly. "It's honestly impressive."
She looked at me for a moment, her expression softening before she glanced back toward the fight. "Are you not enjoying this? If it's not your thing, we can go somewhere else."
"No, I'm enjoying it," I reassured her. "Besides, if this is something you care about, I'd like to experience it with you."
She hesitated, brushing a lock of her vibrant red hair behind her ear. "I mean... I guess this isn't what you had in mind when you asked to spend time together."
I shook my head. "It's fine. The fights are exciting, and I think watching closely might actually teach me something about fighting stronger opponents."
She stood abruptly, her expression unreadable. "We can go somewhere quieter if you want to talk instead. I—"
"Cerys," I said gently, grabbing her hand and pulling her back into her seat. "It's okay. Sit down."
The sudden movement brought her closer than I expected, and for a moment, her green eyes locked on mine. My heart raced, and my voice softened instinctively. "Why don't you tell me what's going on in the fight? Who do you think is going to win, and why?"
Her face turned bright red, and she quickly looked away. "Umm... you're too close," she mumbled, though there was no annoyance in her voice.
I leaned back slightly, smiling at her. "Better?"
She cleared her throat, her eyes returning to the arena. "Fine. Alright, so..." She gestured toward the fighters. "The guy with the flame resonance skill is going to win. His strikes are precise, and he's controlling the pace. The other one—he's relying too much on dodging. He's fast, but he's burning through his stamina."
I frowned, trying to follow her reasoning. "But the wind fighter is avoiding everything. Doesn't that mean he's winning?"
She shook her head. "Not for long. Look closer. His movements are getting sloppier. He's reacting instead of countering. The flame fighter's staying calm, conserving his energy, and waiting for the right moment to strike."
As I watched, her prediction started to unfold. The wind fighter's movements slowed, and the flame fighter pressed his advantage, delivering a decisive blow that ended the match. The crowd roared in approval.
"You were right," I said, looking at her in awe. "That was incredible. How did you see that coming?"
She shrugged, a small, self-assured smile tugging at her lips. "Experience. You'll learn to see the patterns too, eventually."
I smirked, feeling a warm flutter in my chest. "Not without you teaching me."
Her blush deepened, but she didn't look away this time. "You're persistent, aren't you?"
"Always," I said with a grin.
**
While another fight unfolded in the arena below, the crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, engrossed in the spectacle. I, however, was barely paying attention to the match. I shifted even closer to Cerys, testing the boundaries of how near I could get without provoking her too much. She gave me a sharp glare, her emerald eyes narrowing like a hawk's, but she didn't pull away. Emboldened by her silence, I shifted closer still, so close that our hands were almost touching.
Then it hit me.
A faint hum—a ripple of energy—sent a chill down my spine. It wasn't the ordinary vibrations of the crowd's excitement or the residual buzz of the resonance skills used in the arena. No, this was something different. Something unnatural. My resonance skill flared instinctively, sharpening my senses, as if the world around me had become clearer, more vivid.
At the same moment, the compass hanging around my neck grew warm against my skin. I glanced down and saw the faintest shimmer of light pulsing from it. It wasn't blinding or obvious, but enough to send a clear message: danger.
My breath caught as I scanned the surroundings. I focused my resonance skill, sending out subtle waves of awareness, searching for the source of the disturbance. The crowd, the fighters, the arena itself—everything seemed fine at first glance. But beneath the surface, I could sense something—no, someone—moving with purpose. And it wasn't just a person; it was an object, an anomaly radiating an unsettling energy signature. It felt like a storm waiting to break loose.
"What's wrong?" Cerys asked, her voice cutting through the growing knot of unease in my stomach.
I shook my head, not trusting my voice, and instead gestured for her to stay quiet. My focus deepened as I tried to pinpoint the source. It was close—too close. The air around me seemed to hum with latent energy, the same kind I felt emanating from the strange glyphs used by the attackers at the magistrate's mansion.
"Caelan?" Cerys asked again, this time with concern. She straightened in her seat, her warrior instincts taking over.
"Something's not right," I whispered, my voice low but steady. My hand instinctively rested on the compass, as if seeking reassurance. "There's... something here. Something dangerous."
Cerys's eyes sharpened, her carefree demeanor replaced with a focused seriousness. "Where?"
"I don't know yet," I admitted, scanning the arena with both my eyes and my resonance skill. "But it's nearby... and it's not normal."