EARLIER
King Khoma was furious.
Ae’dron had refused to listen to him, Ilyak couldn’t properly control the magic flow into the arena, and everyone – even his attendants – weren’t paying him any attention at all!
A manic part of him wanted to sentence them all to death.
He’d just demanded for Ae’dron to transform, and had the wildkin not been legitimately about to die Khoma wasn’t sure if he would’ve listened. His servants had stopped fanning and feeding him and the others in his court could not stop talking. The audience was cheering for Ae’dron when they should’ve been praising him for bringing such spectacle to their eyes.
They didn’t care about him. Only what he could provide.
No one was listening to what he wanted.
But … What did he want?
Wasn’t it… this?
“My King.” The words snapped Khoma’s gaze over to Chozun, his beastmaster. He was kneeling respectfully, head bowed, and that helped cool chaotic thoughts building inside of Khoma. “Your birthday is successful beyond our wildest imagination. They will speak of this – of YOU – for years to come.” Khoma squirmed at that, but stroked at his mustache and grunted. He smiled a little.
Then he nearly dropped his drink at the next question.
“How do you plan on maintaining this level of excitement in the future, now that you have raised the bar so high?” Chozun asked.
Ilyak, despite wearing a mask, was clearly sideglancing at Chozun. The disenchanter had a strong idea of what the other man was leading towards and already knew it would result in an argument.
“I think that we should keep the Jiranian.” Chozun said.
There it was, the suggestion just as atrocious as Ilyak had expected to be. Magic was outlawed in Valmun for a dozen different reasons and yet as usual Chozun’s idea would spit in the face of protocol. Despite the many safety precautions Ilyak had taken to ensure that magic would never run rampant in the arena, the anti-mage knew all too well how unpredictable and dangerous it could be. Allowing a mage to live among the gladiators invited all sorts of unforeseen trouble; trouble that could cost Ilyak his life.
“And everybody knows that is a fool’s idea.” He said, not even giving Chozun the opportunity to argue before he continued. “First of all, he is not a warrior or a fighter. He is a scholar from Caelumpeak and would not survive the indoctrination. Secondly, Valmun has a PROUD legacy of banning magic. Not only does this fall in line with traditional Shadarrian culture, but it keeps us safe from any potential invasion and altercations with Baldeming. Mages are not only unwelcome here, but their abilities are heavily diminished thanks to strategically placed anti-magic crystals. Thirdly, despite today’s rare showing, the citizens of Valmun wisely distrust magicians. No one would want to come see one, and if it weren’t for our beloved King’s birthday they would have already demanded for the spellcaster’s death.”
Ilyak paused to let the others digest all of that. He was confident in his logic and knew that King Khoma trusted his foresight… So his surprise was honest when he heard chuckling.
Androva was snickering at him, because nobody was listening.
The spectacle in the arena was too attention-grabbing. Both the court and the audience were at the edge of their seats, and Ilyak realized that Khoma’s complete distraction was the only reason Ilyak hadn’t been silenced sooner. Ae’dron had just destroyed the golem and was about to deliver the finishing blow to Xophorys. Ilyak smiled grimly.
“I guess it is a moot point after all..”
As Xoph fell away from consciousness, Khoma dug deeper into his memories. He was eager to discover how exactly the two opponents knew each other...
“Humans are the best because we can live anywhere and not die,” the boy said as the two were returning back home. “We can live anywhere, eat anything, learn anything we want. We’re the best.”
“So can orcs.” The wildkin responded sourly. “And orcs are a hundredfold stronger!” The human scoffed. “Did you not just hear- …I JUST said humans can LEARN anything! Orcs can’t learn magic. Neither can wildkin or dwarves.”
The young leo shrugged. “Then the scrawny elves are the best.” The wildkin didn’t actually believe that, but it was fun to argue. “They don’t gotta eat right? And they’re smart. And besides-“
The human stared at the wildkin. “You don’t believe that, you can’t even say it with a straight face.” The wildkin didn’t even realize he was smirking. “Y-yeah I d-.. Haha! Nah, fine but still.. If any race is the best, its us. We’re loved by nature!”
As he said that, the wildkin held out his arm. The clothes he wore (including the sleeves on his forearm) pulsed with a steady, living rhythm. The yellow plant-like fibers could grow and contract with its host and develop into a variety of shapes. Parts of the membrane were as soft and flexible as cloth while other parts used it’s host’s own calcium and keratin to form more durable sections. This creature, known a Nydid colony, was something inbetween plant, animal, and bacteria and was as common in wildkin communities as regular clothing was for humans. Nydid weapons and armor were often unique to each family line, though some merchants sold general-use “unbonded” nydid gear.
The human looked unimpressed.
“Magic is natural. Why can’t your kind cast spells?”
“Because-“
“Because HUMANS are the most beloved by nature! Some of us can even use your-“
The wildkin snarled, “You’re gonna stop cutting me off!”
The human scoffed, “What? YOU just cut ME off!”
The wildkin’s fur raised, “Yeah, because YOU HAD CUT M-“
The human’s eyes flashed, “See this is exactly why humans can work together better than wildkin can! Everything is a matter of pride with y-“
“You’re both wrong.” A third voice cut in as the two were walking past a tree. The human and wildkin looked up to see the third member of their brotherhood sitting among the branches. The oldest among them (though not in appearance) had always spoken with a wisdom that seemed beyond his years; a blessing and curse of the life he lived and a proper childhood stolen.
“There’s no such thing as a ‘best race.’ That’s just people taking credit for other peoples’ accomplishments.” He pointed at the wildkin, “How many other kids in clan Leo are as strong as you?”
“Ha! None!” The wildkin said with pride. His brother nodded.
“And how many human kids are as intelligent as you?” The oldest asked.
“I mean.. Logically there would have to be at least-“
He was interrupted before he could ramble. “That YOU have met, Xoph!”
Xoph shrugged “Oh. Uh. Well, I can’t really say sinc-“
“Xoph!” Both brothers yelled at him.
“Fine! None! Tch..”
The oldest continued, “Exactly. There is no real ‘best’ when it comes to a whole bunch of people, all that stuff is an illusion to make the weak feel strong. At the end of the day it all comes down to what the INDIVIDUAL can accomplish.”
“Don't ever forget that!”
Right before the killing blow, a flimsy fireball suddenly hit Ae’dron in the face. All of the spellcasters that Xophorys had protected had arranged themselves in the shape of an arrow. Each person had a hand on the shoulder of the next, and everyone’s eyes were closed except for a woman in the front of the formation.
“What are they doing?” Khoma asked. Ilyak watched in surprise. “They’re trying to channel their energy into one person to overcome the anti-magic field,” he explained. “They’re.. Gods I think they’re trying to save him.” The disgust in his voice was evident. Androva nodded, “Makes sense, right? He IS their only hope.”
“What?” Ilyak asked, unable to hear her.
“I said he IS their only hope!” Androva tried to say louder over the audience cheers.
“What!?” Ilyak asked again, frustrated.
Chozun took his opportunity, speaking directly to the king. “Their cheering has become deafening. They think the challenger might live through this. My king, your people want to see more of him, and I do not think it is just because of his magic. His personality and fighting style are entirely different from anything the arena has previously seen, and I’m sure your Disenchanter –supposedly the best in the realm- can place an adequate block on his magical abilities.”
All eyes fell on Ilyak.
“You CAN block him, can you not?” Chozun asked. Khoma also seemed curious at Ilyak’s answer. Everyone there knew that ‘no’ wasn’t an option. Seconds felt like minutes before the anti-mage lowered his head and respectfully bowed. “For my King I can accomplish anything. I only warn of-”
“You warn of danger that it is YOUR job to prevent! Besides, at the first sign of mutiny I will decapitate the human myself.”
Ilyak glared daggers at Chozun. “And why do you care so much, about one human anyway?” He asked, Chozun kept his gaze towards Khoma as he responded. “The good King has treated me well since I have arrived. I live like royalty here, and would not see YOUR mediocrity turn this place stagnant. You cling to ideals and protocols that may have worked in the past but our coffers clearly show isn’t going to work forever. I merely advise adapting to the times.”
“You spit in the face of culture and tradition.” Ilyak hissed
“Most of the time, ‘tradition’ is simply pressure from those in power trying to hold on to their power,” He finally turned to look pointedly at Ilyak. “before they become irrelevant.” King Khoma was listening to the two squabble, amused as usual, when a sudden terrifying realization dawned upon him: He couldn’t hear his champion’s thoughts. The court froze in shock at his next words,
“Ae’dron’s collar is destroyed.”
Ae’dron was fed up.
His head hurt badly, his body ached, and the lion was so mad. The anger didn’t make sense to him, and he assumed the pain in his head had something to do with that amazing roar he released. He had burns all across his neck, chest, and face as well as pieces of shrapnel embedded in his shoulders. The wildkin was actually tired, yet for the first time in a long time this place didn’t feel like home. The cheering crowd felt familiar and yet somehow foreign.
None of that mattered though, there were more mages to kill.
He saw the group huddled together. He stalked inexorably, casually avoiding poorly aimed fireballs. The few that did hit him barely felt like splashes of hot air. He could hear the audience chanting again, “Kill! Kill! Kill!” yet instead of energizing it sounded… Annoying. Why had he never left this place sooner? He drew his heavy swords as he got closer to the group, with a snarl he raised is arm like a butcher and sliced down on his first victim. To his surprise, an invisible barrier separated the wildkin from his prey. He looked up to see one of Xoph’s orbs spinning protectively over the pitiful group of humans. Ae’dron growled in frustration. Then, he turned and crouched before leaping as only a cat could. At the highest point of his jump, he inverted his blades, and the four-hundred pound gladiator pounced down towards Xophorys to execute him.
As he landed, two swords intercepted his blades an inch over Xoph’s head. Ae’dron came face to face with Chozun.
“King Khoma wants this one alive.”