The Opening Ceremony

Altan Karn sighed as the morning sun broke through the window of his guest room in Sunburst Keep. The Malorans' newly built castle was certainly impressive, but morning seemed to come for him earlier in Resta. He tried not to think about how much sleep he actually managed to get as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Today was the day he and his fellow Heronites had been waiting two weeks for. The Restans had spent weeks erecting a massive tent in the courtyard, building an arena within and stress-testing the structure. A letter then came the night before, stating that their venue was finally prepared. In just a few hours, he would be joining his people in an important battle.

The wolf snarls, the lords respond in kind. This tournament was what it had all been leading to. Did Chaos truly smile upon the Restans when they eradicated his brothers in the Brokamac clan? Is their new government doomed to cede the supremacy of their Pyrisian ancestors to these upstarts? A lot of questions had been hanging over the heads of the three lords of Heron since Hem Maloran and his rebels took Coronos back from the Pyrisians and joined with the people of Necros. There was an undeniable power in the kinship of these two former nations that Altan could only imitate with Torvald Piers and Borna Crowmont. Apart from the Piers lord's outburst and the Karn lord's resulting rebuke, the three of them had made a brave attempt to present a united front, but he had never seen such unity at home as he'd seen in the Restans. Unity had always been the source of the Karn clan's strength and he had hope to impart this value on his fellow nobles, but this trip had left him wondering

Altan swung himself out of the bed and rummaged through the the wardrobe for his clothes. He had set aside his usual expensive finery in favor of a flame-resistant vest, sash, and breeches for his appearance. This was because that, among the three lords, he was the only one who would be fighting. His sister had protested this decision every chance he gave her, but it was necessary given that he was the strongest of the remaining pyromancers. If no Restan could defeat him, then how could they prove anything?

Once he was fully dressed, he summoned his attendants to escort him to the tournament venue. The massive red tent that he was led to was nearly as large as the castle itself. Once inside, he found that the shadows cast by the stands that surrounded by the fighting pit nearly obscured the fact that they were in a tent. He scanned the seats and found dozens of men doing peculiar hand gestures while murmuring something too quietly for him to hear.

"Those are barrier casters."

Altan turned to look behind him at sound of the voice and saw Prince Gaius Maloran approaching from behind.

"Forgive me. I don't think I understand."

"These men are combining their magic into a great invisible wall that surrounds the pit," the prince explained. "They are responsible for making sure no harm comes to the tent or any of the spectators within so we can fight without holding back."

Altan raised his eyebrows. "You are prepared to fight to the death?"

"That's a risk we're prepared to take, but no one needs to die," Gaius said with a smirk. "We'll have healers on standby, of course."

"I've never met a healer that can treat severe burns," Altan said, returning the prince's gesture.

"You've never seen what a healer can do with magic," the prince said with a shrug. "I heard you'll be competing. You'll see what I'm talking about soon enough! Perhaps up close if you find yourself matched against me."

With that, Gaius walked away, leaving Altan alone with his thoughts. The young man had a reputation for being brash, but second in power only to his own father. Hem had abstained from participating himself so he could focus on his role as the master of ceremonies. Altan thought it was a mistake for Resta's strongest to sit out a tournament that was meant to measure the strength of their warriors, but Hem had projected nothing but confidence with his decision. That confidence seemed to be placed on Gaius.

Altan took a seat in the section that had been cordoned for the Heronite delegation and waited in silence as his countrymen slowly began to join him. Meanwhile, the rest of the tent had begun to fill with spectators from various parts of Resta, commoners and nobility alike. He could hear Borna sniffing indignantly as he took in the sight of the unwashed masses sharing their space. He might have lectured him for his attitude, but Lord Crowmont didn't seem to be making much noise beyond that. It wasn't worth breaking his focus. Soon, the king would arrive to announce the start of their game. Soon, he would know where Chaos' favor fell.

After an hour of watching people file into the arena, the sound of two horns filled the tent, heralding Hem Maloran's arrival. The king had stepped up onto a dais positioned directly opposite from where the Heronites sat, accompanied by a daughter whose name he had already forgotten. She sat first, leaving Hem the only person on his feet. Torvald nudged him, then Borna. The three lords shared a look and stood so they could face this rival ruler on their feet. As they did so, Hem nodded.

"Welcome, one and all! The king said in a jovial, but unnaturally loud voice. "As you all know, we are gathered here today to answer questions that differ based on where we come from. As Restans, we aim to prove that our nation is powerful enough to answer any challenge. And I am told that the Heronites who have joined us today aim to prove that their country has only grown stronger since their remaining clans have committed to setting aside their differences for the good of the north. What we have in common is the power of our unity. Today, forty-eight warriors will stand in this pit and fight to determine which country has benefited the most from this principle. I, Hem Maloran, king of the Restans hope that today's contest proves that we have the strength to overcome anything, but pledge to be satisfied with whatever outcome they lead to. I wish everyone the best of luck. Fight with strength and honor!"

The three lords shared a look that they each understood to mean that there was nothing else to say. It wasn't that Hem had covered everything they wanted everyone to know. They just didn't believe there was any better way to express their sentiment than they could in the ring. Altan nodded to his compatriots and left the stands to join the other Heronite contestants outside the tent. As he did so, the king concluded his brief speech.

"Since it appears our guests have nothing to add, there is no reason to delay this competition any further! Let Resta's Grand Tournament begin!