《The Vagabond King》Almost There
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Adriana kept close pursuit of her father a few seconds after he got up from his seat and retreated to the recesses of the Gridiron. She slipped into the maze of corridors and stairwells that wound behind the arena’s walls.
Palm resting on the decorated hilt of a curved dagger, she kept herself just out of her father’s sight. His torchlight led her through tunnel after winding tunnel, the tiny space ruining her posture with every step.
She paused as another set of footsteps echoed her own. She swiveled around to face a woman with an epidermis of golden scales that glimmered even in the absence of light.
The woman was taller than her by a head, with a muscular build under her scales and brass armor that clung to her with no apparent fastening. A pair of horns twisted out of her silver hair, while a pair of bat-like wings folded together on her back.
The woman’s emerald eyes seemed to pierce Adriana with their glare.
She couldn’t help but note a resemblance to the Sunkiller.
Adriana moved to the side of the tunnel. “Am I in your way?”
“This area isn’t for spectators.” the Nightborn said. “Return to your seat.”
“I’m looking for my father.” Adriana half-lied. “I believe he went this way. Do you mind if I go fetch him? He’s been losing his senses.”
“I said return to your seat.” The woman’s eyes shifted to a glowing azure.
Adriana furrowed her brow as something scraped at the edges of her thoughts. Mind magic. But something was interfering with its influence over her. Likely her mother’s curse. What a twist of fate…
“Who are you?” Adriana asked, consciously relaxing her muscles.
The woman took a step back, her eyes losing their glow. But her face gave no sign of surprise.
In a flurry of movements that she’d learned from the Scourgers, Adriana pressed the Nightborn to the wall, the blade of her dagger threatening her throat.
“Answer me.” Adriana growled.
“Stay away from things you don’t understand, girl.”
Two sharp points pressed against Adriana’s jugular. Claws.
“Let me go, and we both live.” the woman offered.
Adriana hesitated for a moment. “Fine.”
Both women released one another.
The Nightborn rubbed her neck. “You never saw me.”
Adriana sheathed her weapon, but started to head back the way she’d come.
The woman muttered a curse under her breath and carried on in the opposite direction.
One, two, three...
Once out of sight, Adriana softened her footfalls. She placed her ear against one wall.
She marked every step as the vibrations rippled through the tunnel surfaces until they stopped.
Seventy three paces.
Adriana took a staircase to another level of the Gridiron’s seating area and traced her own steps, as well as the woman’s before exiting out onto an empty spectators’ balcony.
“...I’ve come on behalf of my Lady to relay her response.” The Nightborn woman’s voice said.
“A Nightborn? She doesn’t have the decency to meet with me herself?” her father croaked.
Adriana knelt down and pressed her ear to the stone.
“Discretion should take priority over your pride, Lord Callione.”
Andar scoffed. “Well? What does she have to say?”
“Diamedes and Tammuz will be holding their wedding ceremony during the Intermission Banquet. It would be best to make our move then.” the woman said, “However, you can only perform the sacrifice during an eclipse.”
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“I’m not some novice, girl. I’m aware of the ritual’s conditions.” Andar said. “My astronomers tell me the next eclipse will happen almost two weeks after the Bellirex. How are we meant to cover our tracks before then?”
Adriana pursed her lips. So her father had a specific wish? Surely, it wasn’t some hasty bid for immortality or something along those lines. He was more methodical than that.
“We’ll have a scapegoat. Lady Semiramis will set everything up. Consider it an apology for not being able to meet you in person.”
Adriana pushed herself to her feet.
Her chest filled with bubbling elation.
All she had to do was get evidence that Andar had stolen the Jewel. If she could use that to threaten him, he’d have to let her and Mattiew go.
She slunk back into the corridors of the arena, holding her fist tight to her chest.
“So close…” She whispered to herself. “Then we can go home.”
***
As Mattiew and his Scourgers approached the fifth chamber, Alo’aharu stayed them with a hand before they could enter.
Until now, they’d worked around the trial’s intended function of culling their numbers. But with each chamber’s demands, the odds that one of them would die became greater.
“What is it?” Mattiew asked.
“You don’t sense it?” Alo’aharu whispered. “Stay quiet. There’s a Nightdweller.”
“Nightdweller? They’re keeping Nightdwellers down here? Are they insane?”
“They’re younglings.” Alo’aharu said. “Not old enough to mate with a human or cause much of a disturbance, but it can definitely still kill us all.”
Mattiew nodded.
He signaled his crewmates to stay quiet with his hands and followed Alo’aharu into the chamber, his footsteps going heel to toe.
The chamber was wide, made up of an L-shaped room that led to the next hallway and a large circular podium on the corner, where a hairy behemoth of a creature slept. An ambient glow illuminated the chamber in an aqueous green.
Mattiew and his Scourgers glued themselves to the furthest wall from the creature and moved along the edge.
But the moment they tried to round the corner, the creature’s head perked up, sniffing the air. The monster had a crocodile’s face attached to a lion’s body. It’s scales and fur were black as the primordial shadows of the Wildlands and the creature was easily four times the size of any lion that could be found. An Ammit.
The Ammit looked right at Mattiew with its beady red eyes, awakening a primal fear and despair at his inevitable death at the hands of humanity’s natural predator.
“Look out!”
The monster let loose a torrent of violet flames from its mouth. Alo’aharu created an energy barrier around Mattiew.
“Everyone pair up and spread out! Keep its attention divided! Don’t let it corner you!” Mattiew barked orders as the Scourger leapt into action.
Kalai cackled as she drew her cleaver swords and leapt at the beast. “Come and face me, child of the Scale!”
The Nightdweller roared and charged at Kalai. As it closed in on the King Cleaver, she smacked the creature across the face with the flat of her blade. Misha landed an arrow right in the beast’s eye.
Mattiew and two of his crewmates ran up to the beast and skewered its throat with their spears. Aram and three others stabbed it in its hindquarters.
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But the Nightdweller shook the humans off as it writhed around.
Mattiew barely managed to wedge his shield between himself and the Nightdweller’s maw as the side of its head swung into him.
He skipped along the floor before rolling to a stop on the stone bricks. His arms and legs were covered in bloody blisters and fiery bruises.
Kalai was the only one left still standing. She unleashed a flurry of heavy attacks with her massive blades, but they sparked off the creature’s skin as though its hide were made of metal.
Luckily, blunt force disoriented it as she slammed the two edges of her blades against either side of the Nightdweller’s head.
The creature screamed as violet flames started to spill from its mouth.
Alo’aharu absorbed them, the immense power causing their grey dermis to flake away. With a grunt, Alo’aharu returned the energy back as an arcane bolt that caused the creature to stumble.
Kalai raised her cleavers and let them fall upon the Nightdweller’s neck. A sickening crack echoed through the chamber as the creature ceased its struggle for life.
She sheathed her weapons as she moved to help Mattiew to his feet.
“That was...exhilarating.” Kalai chuckled.
“Matty!” Aram’s voice called from behind the Nightdweller’s corpse.
Mattiew made his way over, despite his wounds.
Aram sat on the floor with Jackal in his arms. Blood covered Jackal’s face and midsection.
“Ancient Kings…”
“Got stomped on when the thing went berserk.” Aram muttered. “I don’t think he’ll make it. I don’t think Leila’s getting up anytime soon either.”
Mattiew glanced over at a blood stained wall. Leila’s mangled body laid on the floor just below it. Guilt, in it’s terribly familiar form, hardened his stomach and wedged a lump in his throat.
He knelt down next to Jackal. “Alo’aharu, can you...I don’t know, heal him? Take someone’s life force. Use mine-”
“Mattiew.” Aram cut him off. “Shit happens. We’ll have to leave them.”
Mattiew clenched his fists. “It’s my fault...It’s my fault they're dead. We can’t just-”
A hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up at Dakkar. “No sorcery can truly bring someone back from Irkalla. Let’s not allow them to die in vain.”
***
The last leg of the Trial of Ambition featured a climb out of the catacombs through a series of stone platforms jutting out from the edge of a pit that led to sunlight. The cheering crowd could be heard, even at the pit’s bottom.
Several teams were already trying to traverse them.
The jumps looked lethal only a third of the way up. The unfortunate scattering of broken bodies and bloodstains at the pit’s bottom were further evidence.
But Mattiew’s crew were sea dogs. They jumped across ships and scaled all sorts of rigging like second nature. Though injured, they could do it without issue.
“Let’s not waste time.” Mattiew huffed. But action wouldn’t take his mind off of the deaths of Jackal and Leila.
Mattiew and his dwindled Scourgers leapt up the stone platforms like they’d done it a thousand times before. Dakkar was a bit rusty, but could still keep up with the pack. Only Alo’aharu was having issues keeping pace.
Mattiew passed two contestants on his way up and was the first to pull himself out of the pit and into the arena.
“Looks like the Vagabond Prince just leapt up past the other two teams. If his soldiers are as nimble as he is, he’ll have no issues taking this next spot!” The Keeper of Shai’tan commented.
Mattiew helped Aram up as he came to the top of the pit and they helped Nekmet after him.
It wasn’t long before his Scourgers helped haul Kalai’s brawny form out of the pit.
“Come on, ‘Aharu!” Mattiew shouted.
Alo’aharu was a few platforms back, barely making the jumps. The elemental seemed worn from the encounter with the Nightdweller, their dermis less dense than before.
The Scourgers cheered Alo’aharu on as they struggled to get to the next platform, almost falling off after a botched landing.
Another team passed them by, bringing up the last of the pack for one of the contestants. It was Khemti. His group was made up of only about six people total. They ran into the sandpit, passing under a wooden gate.
“And the Shepherd of the Meek is the seventh team to cross the finish line! Only one team left to get the advantage!”
“One team left?” Aram locked his gaze at Mattiew. “That’s us!”
The Scourgers’ cheers cut off as a woman sharing a platform with Alo’aharu clocked them over the head with the pommel of a shortsword. The woman moved to shove Alo’aharu off the platform.
Without a second thought, Mattiew dived as the elemental’s body fell off the edge. He grabbed Alo’aharu and barely managed to grasp the edge of a platform below the one the elemental had fallen from.
A nasty pop sounded from his shoulder. There was no time to feel pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, pulling Alo’aharu up.
Mattiew pushed them onto the platform first, then pulled himself onto it. Thank the Emperors the healers didn’t charge.
But his attention was quickly brought back to his surroundings as an arrow narrowly missed his ear.
Nekmet shot the perpetrator in the shoulder with his own bow.
Mattiew tried to wake Alo’aharu up, but it seemed to be of little use. So he draped the elemental over his shoulder. On first glance, a being made of wisps of magical energy and smoke would appear weightless. His eyes deceived him.
But Mattiew could carry the load.
He started making his way up the pit again, his Scourgers making sure no one interfered with drawn bows and javelins. On some jumps, he would have to throw Alo’aharu’s body before he could leap the divide.
Mattiew recovered much of their lost lead. At the final jump, he had his men haul the elemental and himself out of the pit just as one of the other contestants got their last members up the pit.
Kalai shouldered Alo’aharu as both groups started sprinting towards the finish.
Mattiew cradled his arm as he ran, which made him unable to brace himself as one man ran up from behind and swept his legs out with the shaft of a spear. Mattiew collapsed, eating sand. He tried to stagger to his feet, but the other group had already made it past the finish.
“And the Prince of the North Wind is the eighth and final team to win the Trial of Ambition’s advantage, with the Vagabond Prince as a close runner up!”
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