“Is it just me, or is that getting prettier the longer I look at it?” Cade asked aloud while he leaned against the fountain at the grand city center, staring at the mesmerizing sight before him.
The magical waterfall in the center cascaded in slow motion, droplets suspended in the air like stars. Colorful glowflakes ebbed and flowed with prismatic colors throughout the levitating water. It was a breathtaking display, the perfect blend of art and magic. Bunny jumped onto the ground at Cade’s feet and started to chase the little pinpricks of light reflecting off the gorgeous city.
But they weren’t here to enjoy the sights. They had a mission, and it was time to get to work.
Elena and Rayka approached, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. Jer casually strolled along the edge of the fountain on his hands behind them. When he saw Cade, he performed a perfect handspring off it to land gracefully beside the young thief.
“Did you find the registration?” Cade asked, his eyes never leaving the waterfall.
Elena nodded, her expression a blend of excitement and wariness. “Yeah, it’s in the Grand Pavilion. They’re setting up booths now. The line is already huge. We should head there as soon as we’re all here. Apparently there have already been death games and coliseum fights these past few days leading up to the tournament proper.”
Jer flipped a coin in the air, catching it deftly. “You should see the competition. It’s a madhouse. Every second-rate warrior and their cat are here to compete in the pre-tournament games. From what I can tell, those deathmatches are as bloody as the main event is rumored to be. This whole fiftieth anniversary business has everyone in a frenzy. I say we put some good money down on some of us before we sign up. Our odds have got to be stellar thanks to us being unknown. Oh!”
Jer reached inside his cloak and retrieved several worn leather tomes. He handed them over to Cade with a shrug and a smile.
“Saw these. Thought they might be useful. I know how much you love reading up on a city we’re in, and these seemed like a good place to start. They looked dry as all hells, but I figured that’d mean you actually like them,” Jer explained.
“Thank you,” Cade breathed as he held the new books. New was a generous description, but to his eyes, they were inlaid with gold and encrusted with jewels. The thief turned to read their spines.
“A Summative History of Elysian Economics and Trade, and The Origin and Structure of Lifekeeper Society. Jer, you shouldn’t have!” Cade exclaimed with unreserved joy.
Rayka rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Cade. Stop drooling and focus. We’re lucky there’s no entry fee. Otherwise, we’d have to steal more than just glances.”
“Though apparently if you survive the trials, the participants get insanely valuable prizes.” Elena said. “I asked one overeager contestant in line, and she said the first round survivors get gold, then an enchanted item, but she wasn’t sure about much past that. Said that it changes every time.”
“One thing is for certain,” Jer added. “Those who are competing in these early games can walk away. But once you enter as a contestant in the Tournament, it’s either death or victory,”
Cade was about to voice his delight at the bonus treasure, but a dark figure peeled from the darkness. With silent movements, Orro joined them, his presence a shadow in the bustling crowd. When Cade saw his expression, however, his heart quickened.
“What happened?” Cade asked quietly.
Orro cursed and folded his arms beneath his dark cloak. “There’s three of them.”
“Do you think Orro tries to be mysterious, or it just happens naturally?” Rayka stage-whispered.
Jer and Elena snickered, but Cade couldn’t shake the frustration hiding the fear in his friend’s eyes.
“There are three local thieving guilds,” Orro began softly, but not before sending an odd glance at Rayka, who blushed at his attention. “From what I’ve gathered, they’re all based in various districts around the city. Each of them has their own styles and specialties, but they’re not too fond of outsiders. There’s a dockside guild that works with imports and smuggling that might be our best bet.”
“The other two?” Cade pressed, folding his arms over his chest.
“The other two sound even more terrifying from what I can gather,” Orro continued. “In fact, it’s how little I can gather that has me concerned. All I got was that one of them runs their operations out of a massive brothel, while the other has something to do with mustaches.”
“Mustaches?” Rayka asked dryly. “You can’t be serious.”
Cade chuckled, and Orro just shrugged. With a cautious glance around them, the assassin adjusted the hem of his cloak to better hide the hilts of his various weapons.
“We’re going to be more alone in this than we suspected, Cade,” Orro whispered hurriedly.
Cade placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll make do. We always do.”
He changed the subject, leaning back against his perch on the fountain’s edge. “And I didn’t find any notable competitors, but I did have a run-in with a high-ranking Lifekeeper named Bazz. We’re going to need to give him a twin-special before we’re done.”
Elena’s eyebrows shot up. “A Lifekeeper? They’re the hands and feet of the local goddess, Life. Pissing one off isn’t exactly on our list of good ideas… Jer and I will take good care of him.”
Cade returned her evil grin, though he winced as the movement aggravated the cuts from Bazz’s vines. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t exactly the friendly type. He hit his servant for speaking out of line. Oh, and he decided to introduce himself by wrapping me in thorns.”
Jer snorted. “Sounds like a real prick.”
Cade chuckled and bumped his fist against Jer’s, though the memory of the encounter still made his skin crawl.
“He’s powerful, and not just with his magic. He nearly had me skewered, and yet no one balked at the would-be execution. Fortunately, I managed to talk my way out of it, but I wouldn’t expect that to work next time.” Cade met his crewmates’ eyes. “The Lifekeepers are hiding something. I can feel it.”
Rayka’s eyes narrowed, and she poked a finger into one of Cade’s cuts like the caring sister she was. “You sure it was just talking that got you out of that bind? You’ve been… different lately.”
Cade stiffened, the memory of the strange wind warning him during the fight with Bazz flaring in his mind. He almost mentioned it, the sensation of danger that seemed to resonate with his magic, but stopped himself. They’d think he was insane.
Wind doesn’t warn people of danger, after all. Worse, his core wasn’t even established yet, so it couldn’t have been that either.
“Just lucky, I guess,” he said lightly, avoiding Rayka’s gaze.
“Soooooo,” Jer drew out the word dramatically. “The tournament registration is today, and it’s in a place called the Grand Pavilion. It’s super close by.”
“Lead the way,” Cade answered before his sister could pry further. “C’mon, Bunny.”
Bunny jumped back onto his shoulder as they entered the fray. The marketplace around the edge of the city center was a chaotic blend of colors and smells, fancily dressed tourists clutching purses and frosted pastries tightly to their chests, and street performers drawing crowds with their acts.
One group drew Cade’s attention briefly, as they definitely had the look of thieves, but he decided to give them all a wide berth. No need to step on any toes just yet. Still, he could think of a half-dozen cons and scams they could run if they had the time. Absently, he moved to propose them to his mentor, caught himself just before he uttered Hugh’s name.
Hugh was gone.
Just the thought of that traitorous bastard sent a fresh coil of fire lancing across his veins. He forced himself to return to the present, playing a game he came up with in his youth.
Looking around the cityscape, he cataloged every detail, every potential threat or advantage this place might offer.
Stolen novel; please report.
As he wandered, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. He glanced around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The bustling crowd was a sea of unfamiliar faces, each absorbed in their own lives.
Yet, the sensation persisted, a nagging itch at the back of his mind. The streets were bustling, the excitement for the tournament palpable in the air. Cade slowed and signaled to Orro with his right hand that he saw something, but Orro simply shrugged discreetly.
He squinted dramatically at his best friend, but the assassin refused to explain himself. With a sigh, Cade dropped the issue but remained alert as they exited the city center and moved toward the Grand Pavilion.
The thief bristled under the weight of the unknown gaze.
After a few more blocks of overpacked streets, they reached their destination. It was unavoidable. Cade recalled the exact positioning of vendors and Lifekeeper guards on their way here. He shook his head in begrudging respect at the subtle manipulation. The entire city had been funneled into this one spot. It was some of the most effective city planning he had ever seen.
Cade looked on the hive of activity with fresh keenness, the Grand Pavilion swarming with people. His mind awakened as he took in all of the details at once. A slow smile grew on his lips as he noted key staff and travelers he could leverage if he needed to.
It was as if the entire world had descended upon Elysia for the Tournament of Life. Its swirling kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and scents were all meant to allure and amaze while the true intent played out just beneath everyone’s noses.
Strangers lining up to spill blood in the name of greed and glory.
The two registration lines were filled with every kind of person imaginable: burly dwarves with braided beards and glittering axes, elves of every kind—winter, wood, and dark—each radiating their own unique aura.
Near them were humans in varied attire ranging from simple tunics to elaborate robes, merchants haggling over last-minute deals, nobles flaunting their wealth, and priests and acolytes representing gods like Honor, Truth, Prosperity, Destiny, and War.
Cade wanted to rob them all.
He steeled his impulses and shepherded his crew into the back of the shorter line for the tournament itself. Those nearest to them quieted as the onlookers gossiped about yet another team signing up for the true Tournament of Life.
A few pointed while they talked in hushed tones. Others in the much longer line for the pre-tournament games shot them envious and suspicious gazes, though Cade didn’t miss the undertone of pity at the sight of them. Even in the anticipation of death and glory, these people recognized that most, if not all, of the contestants in Cade’s line would die in the next few days.
The young thief plastered on a smile and assessed each group signing up for the Tournament of Life as best he could. A few stood out to him, but none were downright scary. Then again, neither were they, and he planned to not only steal the Remnant but milk this fat city for all its worth.
Despite the shorter nature of their line, the other registration was moving at a much faster pace. Cade waited alongside his crew, enjoying Bunny’s antics as he curled his tail around his leg and nipped at the boots of those who got too close.
The air was thick with the sounds of animated conversations, the clinking of armor, and the occasional chant of a prayer. Behind them, a group of dwarves were boasting about the size of their axes, and he noted that one of them held aloft a massive battle axe imbued with runes that glowed like coals in the bellows.
“This is ridiculous,” Elena huffed impatiently. “Can I shiv just a few of these idiots to speed things up?”
Elena fidgeted, her fingers twitching as she eyed the heavy purses of the nobles ahead.
“No,” everyone replied in unison.
Elena cursed and crossed her arms, the gentle morning sunlight illuminating her bright red hair.
Jer, ever the acrobat, balanced on one foot and scanned the crowd. “Look at it this way, we get to experience the most fantastical impromptu parade on the entire continent!”
Rayka snorted. “With none of the charm.”
They shuffled forward, the line inching along at a slime’s pace. Cade’s eyes wandered, taking in the diversity of those around him. He noticed a group of dark elves murmuring in their lilting tongue, and a nearby dwarf adjusting the straps of his massive warhammer.
As they approached the registration booths, Cade took a deep breath, watching the registrars for ticks and nonverbals. They all had specialties, and this was his:
People.
And with that thought, Cade stepped forward, ready to register for the Tournament of Life. Just as they were nearing the front, a commotion erupted behind them. A group of haughty nobles—resplendent in their finery—pushed through the line. Their sneering faces and dismissive gestures caused ripples of indignation among the waiting participants.
“Out of the way, you vile peasants!” a young noblewoman with elaborate braids and a pretentious expression barked.
Her companions, a mix of elves, humans, and dwarves, flanked her, their noses high in the air.
Orro stepped forward, his hand on the pommel of his broken sword. “Get back in line.”
The lead nobleman, a tall, slender elf with silver hair, sneered. “Do you know who we are? My father is Lord Calen, and he will hear of this insult!”
Cade sighed, stepping between Orro and the nobles. “Look, let’s all just calm down. No need to flaunt titles and lineage. We’re all here for the same reason.”
The noblewoman’s eyes flashed with anger, and she appeared ready to gag. “You dare speak to us with that filthy mouth, fertafarmer?”
Cade blinked. “Fertafarmer?”
He was familiar with most profanity, but that was a new insult, even for him.
“Figures that you’re a lowly tourist in our prestigious city,” a rotund nobleman with a jeweled cane snickered. He leaned forward, the ivory of his cane creaking under his weight. “Elysia exports the finest magically enhanced fertilizer. It’s a lucrative business, but you have to be some desperate bastard to agree to work with that shite.”
“Hey, we work hard to feed your privileged hides. Show some respect!” A man with a thick accent yelled.
Everyone nearby turned to look at the newcomer. A burly human with dirt-streaked hands and a farmer’s tan stepped forward. A murmur of discontent spread through both lines as a few other fertafarmers took offense with him.
The tension reached a boiling point. The nobles bristled, their hands moving to the hilts of their weapons. Others in the crowd started to unsheathe their blades or just raised their fists.
Elena rolled her eyes and cracked her knuckles. “Great, now we have a class war.”
Cade tried again to de-escalate. “Come on, people. Let’s not do this. We’re almost there. We all can register for our various activities if we just let go of these petty differences and unite under our common goal: treasure!”
But his words fell on deaf ears.
The silver-haired elf lunged at Orro with a loud warcry, but the assassin parried the blow effortlessly with a single finger against the flat of the longsword. Whatever loose thread held the peace together in the sweltering pavilion snapped then. A fierce brawl erupted in full force, nobles and commoners clashing in a chaotic melee.
Elena grinned and rolled her neck. When she caught Cade’s resigned eyes, she stuck out her tongue and ducked into the fight. She moved like a shadow, her fists and feet a blur as she dispatched a pair of noble guards. Jer, with his acrobatic grace, flipped over a charging dwarf, landing a well-placed kick to his back.
Bunny leapt into the fray, his tiny claws and teeth surprisingly effective as he too became an agent of chaos.
Cade trusted his team and decided to optimize this unconventional opportunity. He approached the registration table where a frazzled old woman sat, her gray hair pulled into a tight bun, eyes wide with exasperation.
“Excuse me,” Cade said politely, dodging a stray fireball that exploded nearby. “We’d like to register for the tournament.”
The woman barely glanced up, her quill scratching furiously across parchment. “Name?”
“Cade Stormhollow and team,” he replied, wincing as a noblewoman’s scream pierced the air behind him.
“Team size?” the woman asked, her voice a monotone drone.
“Six,” Cade said, mentally crossing his fingers.
Behind him, several dwarves sang a battle song that thrummed deep inside his bones. He cursed at the uncomfortable sensation and turned just in time to see three of the short warriors stack on top of each other as they collided with an orc who was easily over eight feet tall. The orc didn’t stand a chance as they slammed axes and warhammers into his shins, chest, and head simultaneously.
“You need eight to register,” she said, not looking up.
Cade turned back and blinked. “Eight? We’re two short.”
The woman sighed, finally meeting his eyes. “You need at least eight. Also, you should know that registration closes today due to the influx of participants.”
Cade glanced over his shoulder again. Orro had disarmed the silver-haired elf and was using the hilt of his sword to fend off two others. Elena and Jer were back-to-back, fighting off a group of nobles and fertafarmers who had united in their mutual disdain. Magic crackled through the air, and the sounds of clashing weapons and shouts filled the pavilion.
He turned back to the woman, his tone urgent. “Can’t you make an exception?”
She shook her head, her expression sympathetic but firm. “Rules are rules. You have until sunset to find two more members. Unless that little wyvern’s with you, in which case you’d need three. Sentients don’t count toward party members, but are allowed as familiars.”
“Three it is!” Cade squeaked but inwardly groaned. He was about to retreat from the desk when he paused and addressed the woman again. “By the way, he’s a dragonling, not a wyvern. You might not know it, but calling him one is super offensive. Just thought I’d let you know before one of them bites your head off. Cheers!”
He strolled away and watched as Elysian guards began to push through the crowd, their gleaming white and green armor catching the prismatic light from the waterfall far above. The fight was about to get a lot more complicated.
He dashed back to his team. “We need three more people to register. Bunny’s allowed, but doesn’t count. We’ve got until sunset.”
Elena, panting slightly, dispatched her last opponent with a swift kick. “By Honor’s bony ass, are you serious? Any idea where we’re going to find three more idiots to join us?”
Jer flipped over a fallen noble, hesitated, and then kicked backward into the nobility’s nose with a satisfying crunch. Then he strode up to the group, a trail of bloody footprints behind him.
When they all looked at him, he just shrugged. “The twit kicked me in the nethers right as we got started. He might’ve stopped me from having children, so I returned the favor.”
When they all gave him a flat look, Jer merely grinned wider. “Anyway, I’ll start asking around. Maybe someone’s desperate enough to join us.”
Rayka, her eyes scanning the crowd, nodded. “I’ll help. We don’t have much time.”
As the Elysian guards began to break up the fight, Cade couldn’t shake the feeling that their luck was running thin. They needed to find three more members, and quickly.
The Tournament of Life was their only chance to break the curse and secure the Remnant. Cade knew that if they didn’t get into the competition, Death would have no trouble finding them.
The clock was ticking. He was running out of time.
So Who STARTED This Epic Registration Brawl? (Wrong Answers Encouraged)
