“What is the exchange rate for dinari gold standard to Dareisol demas?” This was a serious question from a very serious Effie. In her preservation space bag was her allowance for the next month in dinari gold coins. In the merchant cities, they preferred not to carry physical cash and use their cards instead, however Dareisol was still cash centric.

  “As of when we entered the city, 8.8 demas is one dinari gold standard,” Henry replied. He gave his sister a suspicious look. “Don’t tell me you’re going to wager all your advanced allowance?”

  She scrunched her face as they stood in the lobby of the tailor where Ash was getting his suit for the Solstice Festival Ball done. “What’s wrong with wagering it?”

  Henry raised a brow. “Isn’t that a bit much?” Effie’s monthly allowance was not small. Even for a wealthy merchant family daughter, it was more than respectable. “Why don’t you wager what you have left of this month’s allowance?” Effie didn’t answer, but her eyes darted to the side, avoiding him. Henry frowned. “Do you have any money left?”

  “Of course, I do!” Effie huffed and gave him a dismissive look. “I have plenty!” Her fierce expression wavered and her shoulders shrunk back. “But I used up this month’s allowance already....” Her voice trailed off into a whisper.

  Henry’s lips tightened into a line, unable to keep himself from being somewhat annoyed. What could his seven-year-old sister possibly spend that much money on? The month hadn’t even ended yet.

  “What happened to your money?”

  “I spent it!” She puffed out her chest and Henry scoffed.

  “Don’t be so proud of that.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll make more money after Second Brother wins the battle royale.”

  “Mage duel.”

  “Mage battle royale.”

  Henry tilted his head back, silently praying that the gods give him the patience to deal with his siblings.

  “What are you even spending your money on?” he asked incredulously. She couldn’t possibly have spent it all on snacks while traveling. All her necessary needs: food, shelter, clothing, and all her school expenses were taken care of by Nera.

  Effie stared at him. “I am buying land.”

  Henry stared back at her. “You are seven.”

  “Seven-year-olds can buy land.”

  Henry raised his hand to rub the space between his brows. “And what land are you buying?”

  “Coastal property near the most suitable port in the unified territories,” Effie said. “It will be developed into a commercial port when the territory returns to the Celestial Kingdom. Not only is it directly opposite the sea from Xiu, with about four to five days of sea travel between them, it will be a good launching point into the southern part of East Iveria, which is an emerging market. Especially once Ashtar opens up.” She gave her brother a knowing wink.

  Henry’s eyes crinkled up. He hadn’t thought of that. “And...you really think you can purchase this property?”

  Effie nodded. “Momma says we can purchase under Snake, Scarab, and Sons, but I need to come up with at least seventy-five percent of the cost.”

  “And how far are you along?” Henry asked.

  Effie lowered her head and seemed to silently count. Her lips pursed into a tight line. “Not far enough.” She then patted the bag across her chest. “But the wager will be a big help.”

  Henry crossed his arms over his chest. “Then, you better hope that they win.”

  “Of course, we’ll win,” Ash said as he reached them. “I just had my suit finalized. If we lose, it’ll be so humiliating, I won’t leave the house. It’ll be a waste if I can’t wear it.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “Did you pay?”

  “In full,” Ash said. “And I got the shoes and accessories taken care of. Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you. Not that it’s possible.”

  “It’s very possible.”

  Ash shot him a glare. They walked towards the store’s doors and a well-dressed man who worked for the fancy shop held it open for them as they left.

  “Where to next?” Ash asked.

  “The gladiatorial arena!” Effie said, raising a little fist in the air as she marched in the direction opposite the arena. Henry put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.

  “It’s that way.”

  “I know that!”

  “I think you should check to make sure they accept dinari gold,” Ash said. Effie let out a scoff.

  “Second Brother, do you take me for a fool?” she asked with a small glare. “I already checked.”

  “What are the odds, anyway?”

  “They’re against you. 15 to 1.”

  Ash choked on his own spit. He nearly stumbled to a stop and turned to stare at his sister. “Are you serious? Where did you get some ridiculous numbers?”

  Effie shrugged. “I asked godmother to check. She said that I should put in my wager now and lock in the odds before more can be found out about you two and the odds shift.”

  Henry watched with amusement as Ash’s face grew red from humiliation and the disrespect of such odds.

  “What is wrong with that arena? Do they who the duelists are?” Ash spat out.

  “They do. That’s why the odds are against you.” A voice spoke up behind them. The trio of siblings turned around. Effie cocked her head to the side and Henry kept his face expressionless, but Ash scowled at once.

  When he questioned the arena, it was more along the lines of asking why the arena would have such odds if they knew the four mages were. Cyrus had been registered with the Adventurer’s Guild for years, so information on his experience and general ability would be readily available. Cyrus had an excellent record.

  Granted, no one knew who Guillermo von Sails was, but surely, the two mages who made the challenge in the first place weren’t at the top of the Magic Tower skill ranking. They couldn’t even get out of a painting, whereas Ash made the connection in a matter of moments and got everyone out well before lunch.

  The taller of the mages who challenged Ash and Cyrus smirked as he came a stop a few paces from them. “I think your problem is that you don’t know who we are.”

  His haughty expression made even Henry want to hit him.

  Beside him, Ash raised his brow. He looked at the mage, still in his purple robes, up and down. He kept his face indifferent, as if he were looking at an ant crossing in front of him.

  Without any hesitation, Ash asked him. “Have we met?”

  Henry turned his head to the side and immediately drew his lips in and bit them to keep from laughing.

  The mage balked. His face flushed with anger. Like any normal person, he must’ve expected Ash to be angered by his comment, reply with a harsh remark, and then exchange some scathing insults.

  Instead, Ash pretended he didn’t recognize him. That saving theme from the painting and traveling down the same route as them for several days was nothing.

  Henry knew his brother was playing with the mage, but Effie didn’t. The little girl scrunched her nose and took a step back. She grasped her brothers’ hands, one in each of her little ones, and pulled them back with her.

  “Brothers, he looks unwell. We should go....” She pulled their hands back once more.

  Her words only added to the mage’s injury. His eyes nearly bulged out as they locked on to her and glared. “Be quiet, little girl-”

  “Stranger danger!” Effie screamed as soon as the man took a threatening step forward. Never mind that she was between her two overpowered brothers. She threw down their hands as the man froze his face, his eyes wide as he struggled to figure out what was going on. Effie took that pause to reach into her sleeve and take out a small knife. Her little hand clutched the grip as she stepped back into a defensive stance with her arm up and bent at shoulder level. “Don’t come near me! I’m not afraid to fight you!”

  Henry hadn’t moved and just looked at his sister with a blank expression. Did she forget we’re here? Me, a summoner with three top tier spirits, and Ash, who is likely the greatest living mage alive?

  Their little sister barely reached his waist in height and was dressed in pastel blue dress with her hair in two puffy buns with ribbons trailing down her back. In her current position, she looked like a cute little snow fairy...who was wielding a knife.

  Ash crinkled his eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder if Momma was too strict in teaching us self-defense....”

  “There is no such thing,” Henry replied. “Besides, martial runs in the family.”

  Ash nodded his head, acknowledging that. His mother grew up on the border with soldiers. He had multiple generals on his maternal side. One of the reasons she forced him into dance class was so he could hone his body control to be of use in a fight. It was why despite Henry being the better fighter, Ash always moved much more fluidly.

  “Little girl, this is between me and that mage! Don’t interrupt adults!” the mage yelled at Effie, who hadn’t dropped her guard. Her ice blue eyes bore into him sharper than her knife.

  “We don’t even know who you are!”

  “I’m one of the mages who challenged him!” The mage pointed at Ash. Effie gasped. Her glare hardened.

  “That’s even more a reason to fight you,” she murmured.

  “All right, calm down. We’re here.” Henry finally stepped forward. He disarmed his sister, holding her little knife out of her reach as she gasped and reached up to try to get it.

  “Brother!” Effie scowled in protest.

  “You’ll get it back later,” he said. “And is this necessary? We’re here with you.”

  Effie pouted, but lowered her arms. “This old man just gives me bad vibes.”

  Ash nodded. “He gives me bad vibes, too, Effie.” He took his sister’s hand and turned around. “Let’s go. You have a wager to make.”

  Effie lifted her chin and gave the mage a haughty look of her own before turning her head away. Henry shook his head as he followed behind them.

  “Wait a moment!” The mage rushed around them and skidded to a stop in front of them. He held out his arms to prevent them from going forward. Henry found himself thankful that they were on a side street that wasn’t too busy, otherwise by now, they’d be surrounded by a crowd. The mage glared at them. “I’m not done talking to you!”

  “That is unfortunate,” Henry said, moving to stand in front of his brother and sister. “But we do not wish to speak to you, sir.” He gave the mage a small nod of his head as he held out his arm and used it to gently hold the mage back to the side while he and his siblings walked past him.

  “Does your brother even know who he’s dealing with? I know he recognizes me!” The mage’s voice continued to rise as he spoke.

  Henry gave him a dull look. Before he could answer, Ash spoke up, though continued to walk away. “You’re either Tiberius Bo or Nevin Gorantla. I don’t know which is which, since when we met, you didn’t bother to introduce yourselves. The entire time we’ve crossed paths, you never had the decency to do so, therefore, it’s clear you don’t care who knows who you are.”

  The mage choked back a frustrated growl. Henry continued to follow his brother.

  “No wonder you don’t know who you’re dealing with! Nevin is a level seven mage and I am a level eight!”

  “I have no idea what those numbers mean. Not everyone measures their ability by arbitrary numbers set by the Magic Tower.” Ash lifted his hand and gave him a dismissive wave. “But that doesn’t matter. All I know is that I can sense both your magic signatures while you didn’t even know I was a mage.” Ash looked over his shoulder and smirked. “And you know what that means.”

  “It means you’re going to lose!” Effie shouted back. Henry turned her head forward.

  “Keep walking.”

  Ash gave the mage a small nod. “I’ll see you and your friend at the Soljek Gladiatorial Arena.”

  ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

  “It was very kind of your aunt to invite my friends to their family suite,” Cyrus said as Ash poured him some ‘pre-game’ tea. Beneath the massive stone and wood open air coliseum that could almost fit a quarter of the island he lived on inside, there were tunnels and rooms, as well as offices and other chambers where fighters, actors, and everyone else who worked behind the scenes of a sporting event prepared and worked.

  Upon arriving at dawn, they were assigned to one of the larger chambers complete with three separate bedchambers to rest, a sitting area, and a modest dining room. Light crystals had been installed to keep the chamber well lit, though during the day, light came from a series of carefully built skylights and a thin strip of reinforced window that looked out onto the arena floor along the far wall. It was no taller than his hand, but several panels gave full view of the arena.

  Their match was at noon, but the gladiatorial arena opened earlier with scheduled hourly fights until the main event.

  Asal and the others had tried to buy tickets to the event, but they were too late.

  Mage duels were rare, so the event sold out quickly. Ash had been told that even before the date and time were settled, people had seen the posters and were asking the gladiatorial arena for tickets.

  Cyrus’ adventure party thought they’d be unable to watch, but Soraya said they could come with her. The Pheris family had their own private suite amongst the suites that circled around the gladiatorial arena at the most prime level for viewing. The Braniffs also had their own suite, as did many other high-ranking nobles, and the imperial family.

  Just moments earlier, their friends and family had come to wish them good luck. Effie told him that she was going to be cheering them on from her friend’s suite with Momma and Henry.

  Her friend? Prince Maximillian of Daran. Effie was going to be cheering from the private and well-guarded suite of the Dareisol Imperial family.

  Somehow, he felt that his sister was just giving him a humble brag. Ash had only pursed his lips and thanked her.

  His mother had touched his head and spoke a gentle blessing in Lunapsar before kissing the top of his head. “Remember what I said,” Nera had told him. Ash nodded obediently.

  “I won’t kill them. It’s not worth the trouble.”

  Nera had nodded and left with the others. With only an hour left before their match, the three-on-three weapon of choice match happening outside was halfway through.

  Ash decided to make tea and eat some snacks he had the tea house prepare. He couldn’t bring any weapons or tools with him for the mage duel; they had to use only their bodies and magic when fighting, or in some cases, only what was provided for them, so he left his space preservation bag with Henry.

  Cyrus also came empty-handed and dressed as if he were going on another Guild quest.

  “It’s not a problem. Aunt Soraya is always away from home, but she’s on good terms with her family, so this wasn’t something difficult. It’s surprising that they couldn’t get tickets, though.”

  Cyrus nodded and waited for his tea to cool. “We were quite surprised, as well. It sold out much quicker than we thought.”

  “My aunt and mother contacted others for seats. When Effie was making her wager, they were sold out,” Ash replied.

  Cyrus tilted his head to the side. “Is someone as young as Effie allowed to make a wager?”

  “No, Henry had to do it for her.” Ash grinned. “She made him sign a document that ensured that he was only acting on her behalf and was not granted access to any winnings nor bear the burden of loss.”

  Cyrus chuckled. “Well, at least she’s fair.”

  Ash blew across the top of his cup and then took a sip. He closed his eyes and allowed the calming tea to warm him. “I looked up the two mages who are challenging us. I also now know why they picked those three challenges for the first part.”

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Oh?” Cyrus asked before taking a drink.

  “They belong to a department that searches for magic items around the world. They’ll look for magic relics, long lost objects, and try to ‘negotiate’ with owners of particularly rare items. All of which requires a certain level of physical ability. It’s likely they’re no strangers to using magic for defense or offense, either. In addition, Tiberius Bo is an above average general mage, but he is considered a potions master.”

  “So, they want us to fight a potions master,” Cyrus said. He frowned and lowered his tea cup. “Spells I can do, but potions....”

  “I can take care of potions,” Ash assured him. “We just have to outlast them in the other two sections.”

  “Hitting targets and manipulating elemental energy....” Cyrus muttered. “Interesting choices.”

  “We’ll just do our best,” Ash said. “I doubt they’ll out last us in magic endurance and usage.”

  “I’ll try not to hold you back,” Cyrus said as he lifted his tea cup in a little salute. Ash grinned back and mirrored his action.

  “I’m not worried.” The two clinked their cups and took a drink.

  It didn’t take long for the gladiator match outside to finish. Attendants that worked for the gladiatorial arena knocked on the door to tell them to get ready.

  Ash and Cyrus checked their clothes, made sure they weren’t carrying contraband, and used the toilet before exiting the waiting room and heading towards the arena floor entrance with an escort.

  A woman in a clean uniform baring the insignia of the gladiatorial arena was waiting for them. The large wooden double doors were open, but she held them back.

  “Please wait behind the line,” she said with a bright smile. “They will announce you and then I will cue you to walk out.”

  The two men nodded. Ash wasn’t nervous so much as excited. When they were in the waiting chamber, they could hear the crowds outside. Now, in front of open doors, the excited screaming and yelling bounced off the walls. The crowds in the seats around the structure rippled as thousands of people cheered.

  The floor of the arena was raked flat and sprayed with water in between matches. The walls around the arena floor were twice as tall as Ash and made of stone. Carvings all around the stone were in magi-archea, showing how hold the arena was. The script created a safety barrier to prevent overflowing and wayward blasts of energy from hurting the spectators.

  When they were shown around that morning, the manager of the arena encouraged them to blast magic into the empty stadium seats to test the magic barrier. As soon as Ash’s magic hit the barrier, there was a white light that seemed to absorb it. The light faded quickly and the magi-archea written beneath it on the wall began to glow.

  Impressively, the magic absorbed from those direct blasts of energy was used to power magic items, including lights, in and around the gladiatorial arena.

  Confident that the spectators and surrounding area would be safe, Ash was prepared to use as much power as necessary without worrying that it would hurt innocent people.

  The drums began to beat around the arena and light crystals attached to the pillars around the stands began glowing on and off, making it appear as if a ripple of light was going around. People’s cheering grew wilder.

  “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome once more to the Soljek Gladiatorial Arena! The largest and oldest sporting complex in Dareisol!” More cheering reached them and Ash clapped in his hands to join them. The announcer was standing in the center of the arena, but the acoustics were amazing. The entire arena could hear him yell even above the crowd. The brown haired, middle-aged man raised his arms. “Today’s main event is a much-anticipated mage duel between two mages from the Magic Tower-

  “Boo.” Ash mumbled under his breath.

  “And two unknown mages from the Adventurer’s Guild!” The crowd yelled and Ash squinted.

  It was true that they were unknown, but was it necessary to be described as such? Rude....

  “Representing the Magic Tower, seventh level ranked mage and potions master, Tiberius Bo!” Across the arena, a gust of wind blew out and a short mage in his purple robes seemed to fly out, carried across on the gust of wind. His robes flew around him as he raised his arms towards the cheering crowds like he had already won.

  “Are you serious....?” Ash narrowed his eyes as he watched the mage yell and shake his arms as he was carried around the perimeter of the arena floor to the sound of screaming fans.

  Beside him, Cyrus raised a brow. “I didn’t know showmanship was a prerequisite to our entrance.”

  Ash looked at the woman who was waiting to cue them in. “Why were we not told we could use effects to enter?”

  The woman gave him a helpless smile. “It was not required....”

  Ash pursed his lips and looked back out the doors. This would not do. Did the Magic Tower and its mages think they could outdo him? In a spectacle? “I think not....”

  “And partnering with potions master Bo is the eighth level ranked mage, once more from the Magic Tower, Nevin Gorantla!”

  The drums were banged more rapidly as a cloud of dust flew into the air sending the same tall mage who bothered them on the street into the air. He held out his arms as he was shot into the air, well above the arena floor, with the sleeves of his purple robes fluttering around him.

  The crowd continued to scream as he floated down to the center of the arena, to where Tiberius was waiting with the master of ceremonies.

  Ash clicked his tongue. “Tch...amateurs.”

  Cyrus chuckled. “Then what do you plan?”

  Ash looked at him and grinned. “When you walk out, just keep walking to the center. Trust me.”

  Cyrus chuckled and smiled, a glint of challenge in his eyes. He patted Ash on the shoulder. “Then, let’s show them what a real entrance should look like.”

  Ash grinned back and cracked his hands in front of him. He looked out towards the ring and smirked. He held out his arms and began to roll out his magic.

  Outside, on the arena floor, the master of ceremonies opened his mouth to introduce Ash and Cyrus. The temperature began to drop and he shuddered a bit, but kept a wide, proud smile on his face.

  “And now, for the opponents of Mage Bo and Mage Gorantla, two unaffiliated mages who occasionally take on quests from the Adventurers Guild!” He shivered a bit more and didn’t seem to notice the fog that coated the ground, as if suddenly appearing. “Cyrus Amini!”

  Ash threw his arms up and two massive flames shot up from either side of the double doors they were waiting behind. He couldn’t hear the gasping of the crowds or the suffocated booing as Cyrus walked out, holding his arms out in a welcoming motion as he set one foot outside.

  He didn’t step on the hard packed dirt and dust of the arena floor. His boot landed on hard ice with a rough surface that easily gripped his boots. He seemed to hold back a laugh and a smirk, instead opting to keep a pleasant smile on his face as he did as Ash told him and walked forward, or rather, walked up a series of floating ice steps that led higher and higher until he was well above the center of the arena, hovering above the master of ceremonies and other two mages.

  Lighting crackled around the ice stairs, circling the curved steps he’d climbed like a flashing tube of light before swirling around the platform where he stood and waved at the crowd, occasionally clasping his hands together in a gesture of gratitude, as if thanking them for coming despite obviously being looked at as the underdog.

  Below him, the master of ceremonies’ mouth was agape as he looked up, at the floating solid chunk of ice. He swallowed hard and tried to make casual steps forward to get out from beneath the ice.

  He tried to collect himself as he forced another smile. It was clear Cyrus’ entrance was not planned.

  Back in the waiting area, the woman standing by the door had wide eyes and a mouth slightly agape as she looked from Cyrus, still waving on the floating ice, and back to Ash.

  “You did that?” she asked in a tight voice.

  Ash threw her a cheeky smile. “I hope you didn’t bet all your money on them,” he said as he rolled his shoulders back and stretched. “If so, I apologize in advance.”

  “Guillermo von Sails!”

  He heard his voice outside and gave the woman a curt nod. “I can take it from here.”

  The flames on either side of the door shot up once more, but this time, they seemed to set off a chain of flames twice as high as the walls around the arena field that appeared. Each flame was evenly spaced and the flames roared to life from one side of the arena to the other.

  Ash ran out and jumped into the air.

  Rather than a block of ice holding him up or a gust of wind pushing him along just above the ground, Ash seemed to fly into the air, surrounded by crackling lightning. He flew around the top, just within the magic barrier, waving his arms and throwing out his most charming smile as he passed the crowds.

  Below him, people screamed and yelled, reaching up to wave back.

  Everyone seemed either stunned, excited, or shaking their head and rubbing their forehead. The last one was Henry, who was standing to the side of the imperial viewing suite as Effie and a few other children jumped up and down, cheering for him.

  Ash caught sight of an older woman with graying brown hair seated on an elaborate chair in the prime viewing spot of the suite.

  Ash pulled back and floated in place directly across from the suite. He put his arms down, sweeping one arm across his stomach before giving a formal Dareisol bow to the Dowager Empress Alexandrina.

  When he straightened back up, the old woman was smiling and gave him a nod, before motioning for him to continue. Sitting in one of the guest chairs behind her, Nera wore a veil, but was clapping her hands enthusiastically. She then paused and pointed up.

  Ash looked up at the clear blue sky above them. The loud sound of a large, screeching animal filled the air. A moment later, several shadows fell over the arena as three thunderbirds flew overhead, blue, white, and yellow streams of lightning trailing from their black tail feathers. The creatures were each the size of a large carriage, and dove into the arena, causing the crowds to scream even louder.

  He wasn’t sure if it was from surprise, fear, or awe, but Ash stood in place and his arms out. The three birds circled around him, creating loud thunderous sounds. They flew in formation, one right behind another, before swirling up and exiting the arena. Ash’s hair flew around him as he continued to smile and landed beside Cyrus on the ice platform.

  They continued to wave as the ice came down, gently landing behind the master of ceremonies and the two other mages, who were giving them the most hateful looks.

  Ash and Cyrus stepped off the ice platform together, allowing it to melt and disappear behind them. With one final wave at the crowds, they joined the other three men.

  As the crowds continued their cheering, Ash looked at the ugly faces of the two mages. “See that?” he said. “That’s how you make an entrance.”

  Mage Bo had to hold back Mage Gorantla from almost lunging at Ash.

  The master of ceremonies still appeared a bit dumbstruck as he tried to collect himself. He took a deep breath, forced another smile, and began to go over the rules of the duel.

  “Let us begin with the first half of the duel! The first challenge is the target shoot out! Mages are to hit floating targets around the arena in three rounds of three-minute intervals each. Each target is the size of a human head, but has a certain color and magic text character in the center. Each character represents the magic element or magic element combination that must be used to count as a hit.

  “Each round will have a set number of floating targets, increasing each round, but one challenger from each side will be shooting at the same time to see who can get more targets than the other. Each challenger will remain in their designated spot and one foot must always be on their position plate; else a hit will not count. Each mage must participate in at least one round. In the first round, who will represent each side first?”

  The master of ceremonies looked from one duo to the next. Cyrus stepped forward.

  “I will go first.” Behind him, Ash nodded. Having been in the same adventuring party as Cyrus before, he knew Cyrus was excellent at assessing a situation, second only to Asal in the party.

  “Then, I will also go first.” Mage Bo, the shorter mage, came forward, his nostrils flared as he lifted his chin.

  The master of ceremonies nodded. “Return to your waiting areas while the arena prepares!”

  Without looking at the other mages, Ash and Cyrus turned around to walk back to their area. “Where did you get the idea for the ice stairway entrance?” Cyrus asked in a low voice.

  “Oh, Effie likes to pretend to play ice queen, so she has me or Brother create miniature ice palaces and grand staircases she can walk up and down on to address her ‘subjects’,” Ash replied. “As for the thunder, the flashes of light just make for a good spectacle.”

  “I didn’t know you could fly,” Cyrus chuckled.

  “It’s a highly contained and pressurized air current. It takes a lot of energy to do it, so I usually try not to, and when I do, I only use it on myself for control reasons,” he said. He didn’t feel tired or drained in the slightest, but he was sure that the other mages would think he was after such a show.

  Just within their waiting area, some seats had been brought forward along with a table and some juice and water. They were right behind the magic barrier, so they would be fine no matter how much energy was being blasted outside.

  The two took their seats and watched as attendants rushed out into the arena floor with boxes. Inside were what appeared to be enchanted metal discs, which were thrown into the air and began to glow. As soon as they glowed, they began to hover.

  Ash took a sip of juice, unimpressed. Magic text was written on the back to get the thin discs to float. When they were ready, Cyrus stood up. The two exchanged nods and Cyrus walked out into the arena.

  Mage Bo walked towards the center of arena to face him and from one side, the master of ceremonies was in a viewing area along with what appeared to be judges and multiple sized hour glasses.

  Cyrus stopped to stand on his designated mark in their half of the arena closest to them and Mage Bo stood on his. They were a good distance apart and were not to leave their positions. The metal plates were round with the diameters as wide as an average-sized adult male’s total arm reach.

  Cyrus studied it for a bit, making small steps and still remaining within. He stretched with one leg out and one foot still on the plate, assessing his limits.

  “Mages, are you ready!” Cyrus silently returned to his spot. “Three!” He looked up and seemed to study the floating discs. “Two!” Ash saw him take a deep breath. “One!”

  The drums all around the arena were hit at once, making those closest to them jump. Ash kept his eyes on Cyrus and Mage Bo. Most of the discs began moving in random directions. Some were going up and down, some were making a circle, others were floating along an unidentified course. Only a small handful remained in place.

  Cyrus first shot all the six discs in place, using fire balls to hit red disks with ‘fire’ written in magic text. Ice was hit with ice, water with balls of water, air was a bit more challenging, as it seemed as if more pressure needed to be used before the disc fell.

  He then turned to aim for the ones that had a short path of movement. His attacks were firm, quick, and hit the disc each time. Before long, most of the discs around him were down, so he turned his attention to the ones floating further from him.

  Cyrus managed two take down two before his third attack, a blast of light energy, was thrown off course by a blast of dark energy.

  From his seat, Ash drew his head back and frowned. They didn’t say that opponents could block each other’s attacks to prevent them from hitting a target. Both he and Cyrus looked towards the judges, who showed no motion to interrupt, thereby silently sanctioning the opponent.

  Cyrus’ concentrated face didn't falter, but his movements quickened and his attacks were sharper. He didn’t bother to attack the other mage, instead concentrating on hitting as many targets as possible before his attack could be deflected. Half of his attacks either didn’t hit due to the chaos or because Mage Bo attacked them.

  The crowd started to chant the countdown from ten, and Cyrus’ speed grew quicker, causing his body to occasionally step completely off the position plate a few times.

  The drums sounded once more, indicating the end of the first three-minute round. The totals were counted, as each target reacted differently to a magic signature. A white sheen meant Cyrus hit them whereas a dark gold sheen meant Mage Bo did.

  The fallen discs were collected off the ground and brought to the judges to count. Both Cyrus and Mage Bo stood before the judges to ensure that the scoring was correct and fair.

  Finally, the master of ceremonies was given the total to announce, but Ash had seen the slight irritation on Cyrus’ face first, and he knew who’d won that round.

  “The winner, with a total of a hundred-seventy-five points, Mage Bo! Mage Amini with a hundred-fifty-two!”

  The crowd cheered and in the waiting area, Ash rose from his seat. Cyrus reached him with a frown. “I’m sorry. I stepped off the plate a few times.”

  “It’s fine,” Ash said as he patted Cyrus’ shoulder. “Let me take the next two rounds. I feel avenging today.”

  Cyrus chuckled and sat down. A smile reached him. “You made tea?” He reached for the tea pot. It seemed Ash had brought it from their waiting chamber.

  “Well, it’s what my family does,” Ash said as he watched the attendants rush into the grounds once more to reactivate and clear the discs. They rose into the air, floating in place to wait for the moment to start.

  There wasn’t much of a break. “Will the next two challengers step forward!”

  Mage Bo stepped forward, meaning the last round would be Mage Gorantla. Ash smiled to himself. Good. It’ll give me a chance to beat both of them.

  They took their designated spots on the plates. Mage Bo looked towards Ash. “Ready yourself, boy. They’ll be faster this time.” The words could’ve been a friendly warning, but the tone was mocking.

  Ash’s eyes crinkled with smiles. “No worries, old man. I have good aim.”

  Mage Bo sneered. “You really think you can hit the most targets?”

  Ash’s smile never left his face. “I don’t need to hit the most targets,” he said, turning his head away to face forward. “I just need to hit more than you.”

  The drums sounded and the round began.

  Mage Bo aimed for the closest discs to him, using the same plan as the previous round. It worked and made the most sense. Cyrus had done it, too. However, before his fire ball hit a disc, it was knocked down by an opposing fireball.

  His eyes went wide and he looked toward Ash. Ash stood in place, unmoving, and not looking at the discs. Instead, his smiling face was looking at Mage Bo.

  Mage Bo scowled and turned to hit another target. Ice this time. The ice exploded before it hit the target with a small shot of lightning. He took in a sharp breath and glared at Ash.

  He quickened his speed, but for the next two and a half minutes, every disc he targeted missed, either by his own shaking hands or an offensive attack from Ash. His face grew red and Ash could almost see the steam coming out of his head in anger.

  “What are you doing!?” Mage Bo finally turned and yelled at Ash.

  “They didn’t stop us from stopping each other,” Ash said. His smile only aggravated the other mage more.

  “You haven’t hit a single one either!” he yelled back.

  “Ten!” The crowd began the count down.

  Ash’s brows shot up. “Thanks for the reminder!”

  “Nine!”

  Ash gathered energy and turned in a circle, still on his metal plate. He held his right arm out, leaving a ball of energy every few spaces.

  “Eight!”

  The energy glowed with Ash in the center, as if he were surrounded by over a dozen glowing balls at waist height.

  “Seven!”

  Ash turned to Mage Bo and smiled. “I need twenty-three to tie.”

  “Six!”

  Ash threw his right arm up and the glowing balls shot forward. Halfway to their targets, they turned into fire, ice, water, spheres of wind, and balls of lightning.

  As the crowd shouted ‘five’, all thirteen elemental balls hit their targets.

  Mage Bo’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. He saw which ones they hit and knew how much each was worth. Ash hit enough for exactly twenty-three.

  “Four!”

  “But wait, I still want to get ahead in the total.” Ash’s smile grew wider.

  “Three!”

  “No!” Mage Bo seemed to know he needed to hit at least one target to remain ahead in the scores. He turned and began throwing magic energy like crazy.

  “Two!”

  Each one was deflected or destroyed before impact. The blood from drained his face. “Impossible!”

  “One!”

  One last disc fell to the ground, bouncing once as it hit the dirt. He saw it from the corner of his eye and turned. It was the closest disc to Ash. Floating just in front of him, unmoving, and worth one point.

  The drums sounded, bringing an end to the round.

  Horrified didn’t quite describe Mage Bo’s face as Ash watched him, but it was good enough. A few attendants came out to collect the fallen discs, picking up only fourteen of them, all with silver-white sheen.

  The judges looked at each other uncomfortably as Ash proudly walked towards them and stood in place. Mage Bo looked shaken as he walked unsteadily towards the judges.

  The master of ceremonies was given the total. He seemed to hesitate before looking at Ash.

  “Winner! Guillermo von Sails!” He seemed stunned saying it. “Twenty-four points!” He then looked at the other mage, who just a few minutes earlier had been beaming. “Mage Bo...zero points! Current score, one hundred-seventy-three for Bo-Gorantla and one hundred-seventy-four for von Sails-Amini!”

  The crowd erupted at the total score as Ash turned around, facing the direction of the imperial viewing suite and bowed once more.

  He happily trotted back to the waiting area, where Cyrus was laughing with tears in his eyes. He handed Ash some tea as soon as he stepped through.

  “Now I know why your brother says your arrogance is well deserved!” Cyrus could barely stop himself from chuckling as Ash took a sip of his tea.

  “I bet you that in the final round, they will prohibit attacking the opposing mage’s attacks,” Ash said. “Have I avenged you, my friend?”

  Cyrus gave him a bow of his head. “You have avenged me indeed!”

  Ash finished his cup with a satisfied grin on his face. “Shall we end this quickly and get to the next challenge?”

  “Sure. This is getting a bit boring.”

  The discs were reactivated and reset. They moved into place and the two mages emerged from their waiting areas.

  This time, a dark, scowling-faced Mage Gorantla approached the plate. Ash walked out in a relaxed manner, feeling refreshed from his tea. He looked at Mage Gorantla and gave him a cheerful smile and nod of his head.

  The tall mage opened his mouth, appearing to want to say something to Ash, but snapping his mouth closed and continuing to glare.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen! Challenging Mages!” The master of ceremonies walked out from the scoring area and held out his arms. “In order to make this challenge more interesting, the mages will no longer be allowed to shoot down the opponent's attack on a disc. Doing so will result in a loss of a point!”

  Ash let out a small snort and smirked. “I knew it.”

  Mage Gorantla looked at him, smug. “Now you have to rely on your skill!”

  “I don’t know,” Ash said with a slight shrug. “Hitting to deflect a moving attack is pretty skillful, I’d say.”

  He could feel the older mage glaring daggers at him.

  “Mages, are you ready!”

  The drums beat and Mage Gorantla began aiming for the discs moving further away, which were higher points. As mentioned earlier, the discs were moving faster. In the final round, no discs were stationary. He was slower than Mage Bo, but he was hitting each target, no matter how fast it was moving.

  Ash stretched his arms in front of him, remaining calm. “All right, let’s get this over with.” He took a deep breath and spread energy out of his body, from his feet and onto the ground. A web of energy began to glow. Normally, magic energy wasn’t visible to those who didn’t have magic or were relatively weak with it, at least until it took on an element or collided with something, but Ash wanted to make sure all the spectators saw it.

  The web of energy grew white and remained in an odd shape, connecting and intersecting through a series of nodes. Ash glanced around, nodded to himself, and then flicked a finger into the sky.

  Balls of energy shot out from the glowing nodes into the sky.

  Or rather, they would’ve, if they didn’t directly hit every single disc remaining afloat.

  Judges shot up from their seats as the discs, all bearing silver-white sheens, fell to the ground like drops of rain.

  Mage Gorantla froze, the last of his attacks fizzling out when there was no disc to be hit. His wide eyes turned to Ash, as Ash turned to the judges.

  He smiled once more. Most of the sand in the hourglass keeping time was still at the top half. “You said I had to hit them,” he said, loud enough so it echoed through the arena and over the crowd that had been stunned into near silence. “You never said it couldn’t be from below...or all at once.”