Cade Stormhollow strode through the bustling streets of Elysia, his keen eyes taking in every detail of the city. The vibrant energy of the Tournament of Life thrummed around him, but his focus remained on the ragtag group he now found himself leading.

  He glanced back at his companions, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Bunny now sat on his shoulder, his wings tucked close to his body as he swayed in time with Cade’s steps. Rayka, Jer, and Elena had rejoined them in the nick of time, and the awkward chatter amongst the group made him wonder—briefly—if he’d made a mistake with these three newcomers. He didn’t know these people, after all, and he was about to enter a death tournament with them.

  “No way this will fail,” he muttered under his breath.

  In answer, Bunny nipped gently at his ear and snickered mischievously.

  They were an odd bunch, to be sure: the warrior woman, Nora, her eyes constantly scanning for threats; the dark-haired singer, Evie, whose dreamy gaze seemed to see things beyond mortal kin; and then there was Gavin, the newcomer who had somehow captured Evie's heart in the span of a song that no one understood, but which the paladin had written down for some reason.

  He’d never seen someone with a book holster before, and he kind of envied Nora for it. Maybe she could get him one, too.

  As they approached the Grand Pavilion, Cade felt a familiar surge of excitement. The stakes were higher than ever before, the air thick with possibility and danger in equal measure.

  “Do you think we’ll win?” Evie’s lilting voice carried to him on the breeze.

  Cade turned, catching Gavin's eye as the man responded with a gentle nod.

  He suppressed a chuckle. Winning was always the goal, of course, but Cade knew that in the Tournament of Life, survival was often victory enough.

  The crowd of people that had once swarmed the registration tables had thinned to almost no one at all, and the lone woman sitting at the last occupied table stared off into the distance with her cheek resting on one hand. Apparently bored out of her mind, she tapped her fingertip on the table’s surface and yawned.

  When they reached her, Cade flashed his most charming smile at the registrar.

  “Cade and... company,” he announced, his voice steady and confident. “We have eight members, just as you requested.”

  The registrar’s eyes narrowed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Cutting it close, aren't you? Registration closes as soon as that shadow hits the clocktower.”

  He peered over his shoulder in the direction she pointed to find the long shadow of the cathedral behind her nearly touching the base of the clocktower.

  Cade’s smile never faltered. “We like to make an entrance.”

  She grumbled to herself but shoved a stack of papers toward him. “Can you read and write?”

  “Certainly.”

  He filled out the forms as quickly as possible, glancing now and then to the elongating shadow that crept ever closer to the clocktower.

  “You’d better write faster,” the registration woman said with a dry sneer.

  Cade wanted to retort, but he was too busy pushing himself through the hand cramp slowly building in his knuckles as his quill scribbled furiously across the stack of papers.

  “Is this the first trial?” he grumbled under his breath. “A test of the sheer patience needed to fill out papers?”

  The registrar chuckled. “No, I’m just bored.”

  He grunted under his breath as he dotted the final line with a flourish. “Done.”

  “Head over there,” the woman said with a nod toward a purple tent to her left. “The enchanters will give you the tattoos.”

  “Tattoos?” Cade asked, confused.

  The woman glared at him with an irritated expression. “You didn’t even read what you just signed, did you?”

  He grinned sheepishly.

  “Too bad for you,” she said as she collected the papers. “I think I’ll bet on you lot to go out first.”

  “Enjoy losing that bet,” he said with a sarcastic bow. “Come on, everyone. We have… tattoos to acquire.”

  “What?” Nora asked. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

  “He signed your lives away,” the registration lady said with a haughty smirk as she stood. She walked off, papers in hand, as she waved to them over one shoulder. “I hope your deaths are painless.”

  Everyone turned to Cade, glaring at him with various degrees of fury.

  He shrugged. “We’re in, at least. That’s good, right?”

  In unison, Orro and Nora sighed in irritation.

  As they moved away from the registration tables, Cade's mind was already racing, strategizing their next moves. The purple tent of the enchanters loomed ahead, its fabric shimmering with an otherworldly light that seemed to dance and shift in the last rays of the sun.

  Cade watched on as Evie skipped along the cobblestone path toward the tent, her fingers lightly brushing against the colorful banners fluttering in the breeze. The Grand Pavilion behind them stood like a beacon of hope, its majestic spires reaching toward the sky.

  His crew entered the large tent where a group of enchanters were busy preparing teams for the tournament.

  The space was half-full of warriors from various races, all of them battle-hardened and scarred, as they sat in rough wooden chairs with enchanters at their sides. The various stations set up in the tent glowed with magical runes that floated above each one, and the enchanters were hard at work as they inscribed various symbols on arms and legs alike.

  “Why are we getting tattoos?” Evie asked a little too loudly. “May I request a star?”

  The bustle of the tent paused, and everyone just stared at her.

  Nora cleared her throat and they moved on before Evie could get a good look at their bemused expressions.

  As the enchanters and warriors slowly returned to their business, an old dwarf with a long white beard and twinkling blue eyes caught Cade’s attention. His arms and neck were completely covered in interlocking tattoos, and each was gorgeously etched into his tan skin. He stood near the entrance while his hands moved deftly over an ornate box of tools.

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  “Ah, you must be the final batch!” he said happily. “Come in, come in.”

  They followed him to a corner of the tent, and each of them took a seat on the various chests and surfaces available to them. One chair stood, a lonely sentry in the center of the space, surrounded as it was by a curtain, and the wrinkled dwarf hummed a little ditty to himself as he pulled the curtain closed.

  “The name’s Thrain,” he said as he set out his tools. “I’ll be giving you all a tattoo. It’s tuned to the arena and will last through the duration of the tournament.”

  Jer raised an eyebrow. “What happens if it rubs off?”

  Thrain’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “Oh, you won’t have to worry about that happening! Either you die, or you win. Either way, it’s on you to the end of the contest. Oh, and if you lose the limb it’s on, it’s enchanted to reappear on any remaining limb, even the neck. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, eh?”

  In unison, Jer and Elena gulped loudly.

  Delicately and with the trained movements of a master, Thrain prepared the ink. Its vibrant green glow cast strange shadows on the tent walls. The ink seemed alive, swirling and dancing in its container, and he grinned as he loaded it into the long glass tube affixed to a custom quill.

  Thrain started with Cade, who held out his right wrist and then grimaced. The ink sank into his skin without a trace of pain, and he relaxed the moment he realized this wasn’t going to hurt. The glowing green magic seeped from the quill’s tip as the dwarf drew an elegant rune on his skin.

  “All done,” Thrain said proudly.

  Cade inspected the freshly inked artwork and smiled. It looked stunning, the magic swirling through the ink as he examined it, and he wondered if this was the beginning of a new addiction.

  Tattoos were expensive, but damn if they didn’t look good.

  “So,” Nora began as she sat before the dwarf. “What do the tattoos do, exactly?”

  Thrain’s eyes sparkled with a mix of knowledge and secrecy. “They help the goddess locate you and assist with things like vitals and transportation. But I’m not allowed to disclose more than that.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cade said with a conspiratorial smile. “We won’t get you in trouble. You can tell us.”

  Thrain clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Charm doesn’t work on me, laddie. You’ll not get another word out of me, and that’s that.”

  Darn.

  One by one, the team sat before the dwarf. Each offered various limbs, from wrists to ankles to chests. The dwarf worked with impressive speed and accuracy, and Cade couldn’t help but watch the flawless technique in awe.

  This was an artist.

  Evie was last, and once the short enchanter was done working on her ankle, he gave each of them a long stare. “Just remember: be sure you’re fully clothed come the start of the trial tomorrow morning at ten.”

  “That’s… oddly specific,” Elena muttered.

  Jer nodded. “Do that many people show up naked?”

  “You’d be surprised,” the dwarf grumbled. “Good luck to you all. May Life guide your steps and protect your hearts.”

  His face crinkled into a knowing smile.

  “I mean, that’s not really an option for Life to not guide our steps, right?” Jer muttered while he scratched his chin. “We’re constantly living, so does that mean that anything that happens to us is because Life decided it would be so, or does she simply accept any route we choose?”

  Elena grabbed his collar and dragged him out of the tent. “Excuse my brother. He’s an idiot.”

  As they left the tent, Cade’s mind buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t help but wonder how this ragtag crew was going to hold up in the chaos ahead. Then there were his crew: Elena, with her stubborn fire; Orro’s dependable calm and assassin’s instincts; Jer’s close-combat experience and acrobatic energy; and Rayka, whom he still wasn’t sure should be part of the team.

  He had to protect his little sister, after all.

  Abruptly, the paladin beside him stopped midstride and glared off in the distance, in the general direction of the clocktower. Cade's finely-tuned instincts prickled, and a warning sensation crawled up his spine. He noticed Nora and Evie's sudden tension, their hushed whispers carrying an urgency that set him on edge.

  He frowned and followed her gaze, not sure what he was looking for but scanning nonetheless.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

  She raised her chin in defiance as a group of warriors made their way through the distant crowd. Their armor gleamed white and blue in the fading light, the metal pristine and intimidating.

  But it was their leader who caught Cade's attention—a figure clad in golden armor that seemed to glow with an inner light. The sight stirred something in his memory, a half-forgotten tale of zealots and fate-spinners.

  “I hate those Fateweaver pricks,” Elena said under her breath from somewhere behind him. “And what’s with their ridiculous claims of predestined crimes? Ugh, I want to burn down all of their pretentious little temples. Let’s see if they can predict that.”

  “We need to find an inn. Now.” Nora’s voice was tight with barely contained panic.

  Cade raised an eyebrow, and though he didn’t understand what was going on, he immediately sensed the gravity of the situation. “I know just the spot. And relax, we've got time to dawdle a bit. We already have the rooms secured.”

  He tried to inject some levity into his voice, a habit born from years of defusing tense situations with charm and wit.

  But Nora's tension and the plea in her eyes made him reconsider. Whatever was going on, it clearly had his new teammate spooked. And in Cade's experience, it was always better to err on the side of caution when it came to matters like this.

  “Alright, alright. Follow me,” he conceded, his mind already mapping out the safest route through Elysia's winding streets.

  As they walked, weaving through the festival crowds with practiced ease, Cade couldn't resist a bit of playful needling.

  “Nora,” he said under his breath. “Try not to look so intimidating.”

  “I can’t control that,” Nora said dryly.

  “Well…” He tilted his head as he scanned her body. “Then at least don’t look them in the eye. You look ready for a fight, and I’d rather not start another one tonight.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t start that one.”

  Though she spoke to him, her gaze never left the small contingent of soldiers they were quickly leaving behind in the square.

  “How did they find us?” Nora whispered, so quietly that Cade almost didn’t hear it.

  Hmm.

  This was an interesting turn of events.

  Her intensity and the tightening of her jaw only piqued his curiosity further. There was a story here, one that went deeper than simple tournament jitters. Cade filed it away, another piece of the complex puzzle that was his newfound team.

  Before long, the soldiers were long gone, and the familiar warmth of the Twisted Oak enveloped them as they entered. The scent of woodsmoke and ale were a welcome respite from the chaos outside.

  Greta greeted Cade like a long-lost son, her weathered face breaking into a wide grin. The inn was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of ale and worn wood. Cade found comfort in the oddly peaceful ambiance.

  Nora, ever vigilant, remained at Evie’s side. Cade cast a look over his shoulder as Greta left to get them some ale, and he did his best to ensure she didn’t see him watching her.

  Orro briefly caught Cade’s gaze, and Cade nodded a go-ahead. The assassin approached Nora, his voice low. “So… why aren’t you armed?”

  Nora shrugged. “A lake ate my last sword. Nothing’s left of it now.”

  “It—wait, what?” Orro asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

  Nora smirked but didn’t elaborate. Evie stifled a giggle, and Gavin just shook his head.

  “You lot are a strange bunch,” Gavin said under his breath.

  “As are you, my love,” Evie said as she nuzzled his arm.

  Gavin paused for a moment and looked down at the girl with a bemused expression. “Thanks, I think?”

  She hummed happily, but otherwise didn’t respond.

  “You’re clearly a fighter,” Orro continued. “A fighter needs a sword.”

  Without waiting for her to reply, his cloak shifted, and he pulled out the greatsword the little girl had left behind. He handed it wordlessly to her, and though she paused briefly, she eventually took it.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He nodded.

  Once again, Cade watched Nora through the corner of his eye. She stood like a lighthouse on a rocky shore, so obviously out of place that everyone in this tavern was sneaking glances at her rigid form.

  This woman needed to relax, or she was going to draw unwanted attention.

  There was more to these two women than Cade could place his finger on. They were clearly running from the Fateweavers, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. She fought like a paladin, with a stubborn will to survive that matched even Orro’s, but she wore no armor and carried no sword. To top it all off, ‘the stars’ had apparently told her his name.

  A puzzle, for sure. As high as the stakes were on this job, he frankly wasn’t sure this was a puzzle he wanted to figure out.

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