What now?

It was a question that first popped up as I bore Amanda's crest on my left shoulder. It popped up again, when I finally clicked the pin-clasp that firmly set Ash's crest to my right.

When do the trials begin?

Another question that planted its roots deep in my head right alongside the other. Together, over time, they'd be watered, they'd be cared for, then they'd eventually blossomed and flower, sprouting the seeds of doubts all over the place to continue the cycle forevermore.

Who will I be fighting against first?

Where is the venue for the first trial?

Here?

Do we do it here?

But perhaps the question that bloomed the most prominent right here and now was the one that only most recently planted its roots.

Why was the announcer stepping down?

"My friends!" He bellowed once again, this time his tone somewhat with a tinge of finality. "As time and time again of our gathering together dictates, my duty as your messenger and a friend has finally come to an end."

That question eventually morphed into something else ever so slightly. This time, I pondered silently -

Why was the announcer stepping aside?

Something I found I didn't have to wonder too long, as he went on with eyes staring bittersweet.

"To the uninitiated, it is common tradition every year that we invite an honorary host or hostess to provide commentary to the main event, usually such an individual would be of a high influential status to better befit this prestigious role, and as such, on behalf of the judges, it is with great honor and pride that we introduce to a person who is exactly that and perhaps even beyond!"

Then for the first time, instead of questions filling every narrow crevice in my brain, answers began to bud, started to germinate... and bloomed ever so profoundly with the fruits of wisdom.

An individual of high influential status? In this side of the state, that aside from Amanda, there was barely any other? Suddenly the cause and reason for my accursed nickname stuck to my being didn't seem so far-fetched. But even so, please, announcer-dude, please say it isn't so.

Do not invoke that name.

Do not invoke his name.

"Hailing from a most prosperous country to the north, I present to you," The most widest of smiles, the most grandiose of flourish, he stretched his arm towards us, behind us, and the hall boomed for the last time with his proclamation, "Tyler Leaden of the House of Leaden!"

"AYYYYYYY!"

Something blue just whizzed past me in a blur, something loud, something brash… and something very, very hyper.

"IT'S YA BOI, BOIS!" That blue blur continued to shout, prancing left and right beneath the double thrones, between us all, flushed in glitz and gold all over. "YOUR LIFE OF THE PARTY HAS FINALLY ARRIVED!"

Who the hell gave him a mic and why? Find him. I have words for the person who decided this, very carefully selected words at that. Seriously, the walls are shaking, the tectonic plates are shifting, cats and dogs pandemonium - fucking, I die now.

Look at that, even Amanda can't keep her face straight at this. There's no hiding that expression there no matter how tight you grip your armchair. The shock, the horror, shit, I never knew eyes alone could convey these emotions to this extreme of a degree.

I have a feeling no one told her that he would be arriving. Which is funny, considering she's a host too.

Ahh, divine retribution, such a beautiful thing, ain't it?

Wait, then why the hell am I also paying the price for her sins too? This shit don't make no sense.

There was a sharp shrill feedback from the mic as he slammed it between his palms, he kept strutting about the place like a rapper onstage, it's actually mortifying.

Like, I don't know where he gets that level of confidence, but shit wouldn't I like some of that for myself here. Because despite acting out more like a fool than I was dressed as, the crowd just couldn't get enough of him.

He wasn't even properly fitted for the occasion, he's still wearing his own merch, tattered pants, baggy shirt, bleach blue ponytail and all - the only effort he actually put into dressing right was to put a big-ass crown, and I had a feeling that was a last-minute ordeal consider that kept loosely wobbling left and right with every move he made.

Despite it, he was practically drowning in revelry, the walls echoing with his praises at just the very mention of his name. Even the champions, with the sole exception of I, joined the cheering and the hype. It got to the point that the hyperactive man had to calm the fervor down himself a couple of notches otherwise the roof might just cave in from all the hysteria.

"Alright, alright, I get ya, you're all real glad to see me," He said, raising a hand up. "Yeah, I'm real glad to see you all too, dudes! Didn't expect me here today, did ya?! Didn't think I know shit about Asteria and shit, did ya?! Well, folks, today's the day I proclaim myself as one of you - so I can get myself an amen everybody?!"

He got his amen, alright. The loudest amen heard all around the globe and back. The Pope oughta be ashamed of himself.

"So, yeah, anyway, enough about me, this occasion ain't about me anyway," He spun a smooth swift 180, stopping and striking a pose with finger guns pointing to all of us. "It's about you legends, yeah? The ambitious, the tryhard, the love-struck. Whoo, you boys, ahem, and girls, of course - are in for a crazy ride believe you me!"

Tyler gestured up high, his lips almost seeming to salivate. "But who the hell wouldn't wanna compete, am I right?! With prizes like these - whoo! Two princesses, two beautiful damsels - shoot in the ass - my God, can I get another amen, folks, for these lovely ladies?!"

He got his amen, one that had Ash going beet-red and hiding her embarrassment, while Amanda just sat there and nodded her head with a wide lifeless smile.

If he goes ahead and asks for a third amen, I'm pretty sure heaven would just outright shatter into pieces. Don't think it was built to contain this many praises.

"Anyway, so, before we move onto the events, I was told I get to say a few things for a few minutes to like, ease everyone in or something?" He shrugged, smiling contemptuously at the prospect of adhering to customs. "Eh, you guys already seem eased enough, plus that shit's boring anyhow. So instead I just wanna talk about… um, whatever the hell I wanna talk about, I guess."

Got up to the crowd with no plan and no speech. That's so Tyler.

"So… anyway… How are things?" Slowly he turned, slowly he stared, a playful eye, a playful smile, slowly I saw them, face to face. "Big Man?"

Oh shit.

"Tyler, please…" I tried to whisper to him. "Talk later, talk later…"

Alas, he couldn't hear me at all… or rather, he chose not to hear me at all.

Typical Tyler. Oh, Tyler…

"I leave for like - what? Two days? One? Look at you now, wowie! Oh man, when I saw you then, I couldn't fuckin' believe my eyes, you know that? Then I heard your girls were being put for grabs and I'm like, 'what's up with that?' Did you do that?"

"No, wait, wait, hold up," He snorted, chuckled, then raised his eyes to the upper left, "One of your girls put you up to this, didn't they?" Then he veered right. "Hehehe, I can kinda guess what's going on now… okie dokie, then. I get ya, I get ya."

Tyler spun around again, facing a silent befuddled crowd with one arm reaching at me for a tight bear hug, to which I had no choice but to bear with.

"Okay you folks probably need some backstory, listen here," He said, while patting me on the shoulder. "Me and this guy here go way back, man. If you guys saw my previous vid from way back you know already. Probably can't recognize him well with the clown getup he's got, but there's no mistaking it, this is him, alright! The Big Man himself!"

"Well, actually, not so big now, considering…" Tyler looked left again, where Nick stood out among the lineup like a sore thumb. "That guy looks like he means business, big man. Seems you're actually gonna have to try a little, aren't ya?"

He laughed loudly into the mic, a laugh I couldn't quite share, a laugh that increased the intensity of Nick's scowl towards me. Speaking of which, Leon to the right, just looked utterly amused by the whole fiasco.

"Anyway, I ain't allowed to play favorites, but if I could… you better your ass I got my homeboy's back like no problem," He proclaimed boldly, patting even more firmly. "He's got this shit in the bag. He's gonna be kissing both these pretty princesses' hands by the end of this, and you wanna know why? Because this guy here loves 'em both, and he loves 'em great! Loves them more than anyone here too, I guarantee you."

There was silence in the air, one that was only filled with stares. I lost all sense of shame long ago already, I didn't even care, so I just stood there.

Ash and Amanda did their best to keep straight-laced, which I had to commend them for, 'cause you couldn't even tell what they were thinking.

Well, I couldn't anyway.

Tyler, I'm sure you have good intentions. Really, I really do. But, you just don't think sometimes, because if you did think then you'd know that you just sorta painted a bullseye on my back, one so big you'll find it hard to miss.

And judging from the tense gazes both left and right, I think everyone has found who to first put up on the chopping block.

"So if you wanna know who's winning this, all you gotta do is look here and I'll answer for you - say it with me, folks, alright, let's go," Tyler raised a finger to crowd, jutting it forward as he uttered each word slowly and articulately. "Big. Man. Of. House. Playboy."

Of course, no one repeated back that long mouthful of words, but no doubt everyone would remember that name - my name. Because at that point, it's scribbled, highlighted, dotted, bolded, circled, sitting there at the top of everybody's hit list.

"Alright, there goes my few words," He clapped his hands again, a shrill hum ringing aloud. "Now, who's ready for carriage racing?"