Chapter 259: Opening Ceremony

The heralds, Jane and her brother Mark, charmed the crowds from their tower that stood at the edge of the coliseum. They had already introduced three teams into the arena and had come to the last.

Mark glanced at his sister. “Do you want this one?”

“No, by all means, you go ahead,” Jane smiled.

“Dammit, alright,” he muttered. Mark took a deep breath and yelled into the enchanted speaking-trumpet, “Thank you for your patience, dear guests! Last but not least comes a team that has not claimed victory in the tourney for the last seven years but continues to come back with a tremendous fighting spirit! Give it up for the most tenacious group of them all, ~TEEEAAAM HOLLOW SHADE~!!”

The coliseum’s Southern Gate lifted up with the sounds of clinking chains. Even before the gate had lifted completely the crowds began to boo and throw out names of ridicule. The visitors from Hollow Shade seemed to be the smallest group among the thousands of spectators and their dim cheers were easily drowned out by the overwhelming majority.

Freya emerged from the dark tunnel and stepped proudly into the sunlight of the arena. She ignored the jeers and taunts and made her way straight to the erected stage at the center of the arena. Sylvie and Callum walked right behind her and tried their best to not appear daunted.

Stryg walked out last. He took slow steps and looked out at the throngs of people in the coliseum’s stands. He searched for a familiar face to no avail. Even if he couldn’t see her, Stryg knew Plum was among the crowds, watching all of them.

What do you think of us now? Are you cheering? Or are you booing? Stryg wondered.

“Wow, what a warm reception,” Sylvie said dryly.

“It’s to be expected, most of these people are from Undergrowth,” Callum said. “Hollow Shade hasn’t had good relations with this city for the last 200 some years.”

“So what? Fuck these people,” Freya muttered. “When we win this tournament we’ll see who’s laughing.”

Stryg stared at his sword Nameless that hung from his hip.

Win.

The one thing no one thought they could do.

Win.

Gale had told him before they had entered the arena that there were questions he would be faced with. Questions that needed to be answered. Why was he here? Why was he fighting? Was it for himself? Was it to prove Plum wrong? To show the world the strength of Ebon Hollow and Hollow Shade? To fulfill a promise to Clypeus?

Why did he fight? Why was he here?

Dozens of questions echoed in his mind, but one lingered deep in his thoughts.

Who. Am. I?

Gale had told him it was the most important question of all. Was he a Sylvan goblin? Was he a mage of Hollow Shade? Was he the chief of Ebon Hollow? Was he the scared little boy who had gotten lost in the woods? Or was he a brave warrior who had faced off against a warlord?

Stryg felt like all of them and yet none.

His thoughts were cut short when his team arrived in front of the wooden stage. The three other teams were already there, staring and sizing up each other like a pack of wolves. Only Calex Thorn seemed at peace, he didn’t bother looking at any of them, and instead closed his eyes with a serene expression.

“If I could have your attention!” Jane’s voice echoed across the coliseum.

The crowds’ voices died down, albeit slowly. Stryg and the other competitors looked up at the herald’s tower.

“Our four spectacular teams have finally arrived, but!” Jane yelled. “We are still missing the most important person of all, this year’s tourney hostess! It is with the utmost pleasure that I welcome the greatest arch-mage in the realm, the blood of The Last Ebon Lord, the queen of the City of Thorns, ~LADY OPHELIA THORN~!!”

The crowds broke into an uproar that shook the ground itself. From high above a pale figure descended from the sky. Ophelia was wrapped in a cloak of white petals that stretched out around her as she slowly floated down to the arena’s stage. She landed with a soft almost ethereal step, which only served to excite the crowds’ cheers even more. Ophelia thin’s lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

“Is that… Blossom?” Freya whispered in wonder.

“I think it is,” Callum mumbled, eyes wide.

“I don’t follow,” Stryg said.

“Come on, even I know about Blossom,” Sylvie nodded her head towards Ophelia. “House Thorn’s family artifact, the Snow Petal Cloak, Blossom.”

“Blossom…?” Stryg looked at the white cloak with newfound interest. He suddenly frowned, “Wait, I thought House Thorn’s artifact was a bow?”

“It is,” Callum nodded. “Rose and Blossom are both House Thorn’s artifacts. They have three in total.”

“Being the most powerful family in Undergrowth has its perks,” Freya said.

Ophelia raised her slim arm for silence and the crowd quieted almost instantly. She smiled down at the four teams standing in front of the stage, “Welcome to the 277th Great Cities Tourney. Before we begin today’s events I’d like to leave a single idea in your mind. Be proud.”

Ophelia pointedly looked at each member of the four teams, her eyes settling on her son, Calex. “Be proud, for each one of you has gone through countless trials and difficulties to be where you are today. You have beaten the odds to stand among the greatest of generations past. I want you all to know that no matter how today play’s out, you have all achieved what many have tried, but few have succeeded.”

Calex smiled and bowed his head. Veronica, Heather, and Damian glanced at each other and quickly followed his lead and bowed.

Ophelia raised her arms, “Now, for what all of you have been waiting for, this year’s Trinity Prizes!”

At her cue, the Northern Gate opened. A dozen wagons filled with lumber rolled out into the arena, followed by an armored group of guards carrying a large chest.

“Uh… what’s up with all the lumber?” Stryg asked skeptically.

“It looks like one of the Trinity Prizes, probably the city’s,” Freya guessed.

“Hm…” Stryg frowned.

“...You didn’t read the notes Loh gave us last night, did you?” Freya sighed.

“I was busy…” Stryg muttered.

“With what?” Freya asked, annoyed.

“I think we’ve all had a rough couple of days,” Callum said. He leaned towards Stryg’s ear, “The Trinity Prizes are the three rewards given to the victors of the tourney. One prize is for the winning city, another for the winning team, and the last is for the tourney’s sole champion.”

“So Undergrowth is offering… wood?” Stryg frowned.

“I doubt it’s ordinary wood,” Freya said. “The host city is in charge of offering the Trinity Prizes, while the other three cities have to pay the host city gold equivalent to the prizes. That way the host city never cheaps out on the rewards.”

As if in response, Ophelia pointed towards the wagons, “For the champion’s city we offer our finest set of ebony lumber cut from the heart of Glimmer Grove forest.”

The crowd cheered in response.

“And there it is, ebony is very expensive,” Freya said. “Wood, in general, is expensive outside of the forests, especially in Dusk Valley. Something as strong and rare as ebony has to be worth several thousands of gold coins at least.”

“Still seems a bit underwhelming,” Stryg said.

“I agree,” Sylvie crossed her arms. “I was hoping for something a bit more flashy.”

The armored guards lugged the steel chest to the stage and dropped it gently next to Ophelia. The guards bowed to their mistress and stepped back.

Ophelia whispered a few words under her breath and placed her hand over the chest. The lock clicked open and the steel lid pulled back open. Inside lay four crystal clear gems each the size of a child’s fist.

Ophelia picked up one of the magestones and lifted it high, “To our victorious team we offer four magestones of the highest grade, cut from a rare crystal vein in the heart of the Rupture Mountains.”

“Oooh, now we’re talking,” Sylvie stared at the magestone greedily. “I could make myself a really nice ax with that.”

“Or a really nice hammer,” Freya grinned.

Ophelia surveyed the waves of cheering fans and smirked, “I have left the best prize for last, of course! Last year, Frost Rim offered its champion an entire bar of pure orichalcum! I ask all of you, how does one top such a prize?”

The crowds looked at each other and muttered in curiosity.

Ophelia looked at Calex and smiled, “To the valiant champion of this year’s tourney I offer my family’s best. I offer my cloak, Blossom.”

The crowds yelled in excitement and chanted ‘Thorn’ over and over, their voices growing with each chant. Stryg winced at the deafening noise.

“What…?” Sylvie’s eyes widened in confusion. “I don’t get it. Why would she risk her family’s heirloom?”

“Lady Thorn doesn’t believe that she is,” Freya said grimly. “She thinks Undergrowth’s team will win at all.”

“It’s a rub on the other Great Cities,” Callum noted. “She is trying to show how much greater her son, her team, and her city really are. Worst of all, she’s going to make all the other cities pay for it.”

“But isn’t Blossom priceless?” Stryg asked.

“Exactly,” Callum narrowed his eyes. “Who knows how many chests of gold the other cities will have to pay as tribute for this little stunt of a Trinity Prize.”

“Fucking Thorns,” Freya spat.

“Meh, who cares about them. We’ll just have to win all the prizes ourselves,” Sylvie grinned.

“For once, I agree with you,” Stryg said resolutely.

Ophelia placed the magestone back into the chest and turned to address the four teams, “Brave mages, you have seen the rewards that await and you are no doubt eager to taste the glory of victory. But fear not, I will not hold you back any longer.”

Ophelia smiled, “It is time for you to prove yourselves. It is time for your 1st Challenge.” She spreads her arms wide open, “The Challenge of Fae & Flower!”

The Western Gate creaked open, four drow dressed in forest-green cloaks marched out, each carrying a black lantern. The cloaked drow made their way to the stage and held the black lanterns between their hands.

“What is that…?” Stryg’s eyes narrowed at the sight.

A small creature flitted about inside the lantern, its tiny wings flickering with pink light.

“The Challenge is simple in concept but difficult in nature,” Ophelia said. “In each of these lanterns lies an elusive fairy, captured by our best hunters. The fairies are very receptive to a very special plant, the Silverbright Flower. Your job is to retrieve one such flower, unharmed and bring it back to this stage.”

Ophelia pointed at the lanterns, “The fairies will act as your guides as you venture into the southern edge of Glimmer Grove. Keep your fairy safe and she will lead you to the flower. But be careful, do not let the lantern come to any harm, lest your fairy escape.”

Ophelia stepped aside and gestured to the four teams, “Captains, come up and collect your lantern.”

Freya took a deep breath, “Here we go.”

She walked up the stage alongside the other three captains and gingerly grabbed her black lantern.

Ophelia turned to the captains, a glimmer of excitement in her blue eyes, “Calex Thorn of Undergrowth, Kalliste Lilty of Frost Rim, Gilgard Morrigan of Murkton, and Freya Goldelm of Hollow Shade, lead your teams well. Victory is in your grasp if you fight for it. You have until sunset to return. I wish you all the best of luck, may the gods smile favorably upon each one of you.”

“Thank you, mother,” Calex bowed with a smile.

“We’ll return long before sunset,” Kalliste spun away and walked down the stage.

“A wonderful speech, I look forward to wearing your cloak,” Gilgard winked.

“Lady Thorn,” Freya bowed and made her way back down the stage.

“Stay safe,” Ophelia smiled eerily.

As soon as the four captains returned to their teams, the Southern Gate opened.

Freya looked at her friends uncertainly. She shook her head and made up her mind, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

Stryg glanced at the crowds then back at the gate. He nodded, “Gladly.”

As the four teams walked into the Southern Gate, the Eastern Gate opened up behind them.

“Do not fret, dear guests!” the herald Mark called out. “While we wait for our competitors to return, we have brought the best entertainers in all the Ebon Realm to perform just for you!”

“Please give a warm welcome to the illustrious Singing Willow Troupe!” Jane yelled.

The crowds cheered as a band of brightly dressed minstrels and actors ran out from the Eastern Gate.

“Singing Willow?” Stryg looked back.

“Oh yeah, I saw one of their plays back in Hollow Shade, they’re quite good,” Callum said. “Have you ever gone?”

“...Once,” Stryg gripped his necklace. The orichalcum coin the Captain had given him felt heavy around his neck.

A woman in a flamboyant yellow dress skipped out of the Eastern Gate with dance-like steps, her movements light and full of energy. She wore a white mask with a large smile etched across its cheeks.

Stryg couldn’t see her face, but he knew who it was.

“Captain,” Stryg whispered.

The woman’s steps stopped in mid-dance. Her white mask slowly turned and stared across the arena to the Southern Gate.

“Hello, little one,” her voice echoed softly in Stryg’s ears.

Stryg’s eyes widened, “How did you-?”

The Southern Gate suddenly shut closed.