5. A New Challenger Approaches

The gentle fingers of dawn reached through the dusty porthole, nudging Caela awake. She rolled out of her narrow bunk, catching herself on all fours and stretching like a cat. She stood up and surreptitiously peeped into the upper bunk to see that, yes, her roommate was still cocooned in a ball of sky-blue frizz and floral aromas. Caela suspected she could have blown a reed whistle without disturbing the girl. Still, ever conscientious, she was whisper-quiet as she prepared to leave for the day.

Downstairs, she was surprised to see most of the previous night’s revellers were already awake and indulging in a morning feast. She approached a table straining under the weight of eggs, bread and pastries just as her uncle, pouring a cup of tea for the wizard Johannes, finished his speech on the importance of a good breakfast.

“...That’s why Cael always used to say, ‘An army fights on its stomach’. Wise man, you can see those brains in…”

The aging feline noticed his niece and waved her towards an empty chair.

“Caela! Good sleep? I was just boring the whiskers off Mr Tyrol here, telling him about your grandfather.”

Johannes chuckled indulgently, taking a cautious sip of tea so as not to wet his white beard.

“Not at all, sir. These stories, they are always fascinating to me. Such companionship, such riches… I wonder why you ever stopped.”

Menelaus’ fluffy face was momentarily unreadable. “Aha,” he said, without so much good humour. “Well, you face one too many close calls, eventually your luck has to run out, right? Best hang it up before that happens.”

Recalling himself to the present, he mustered a smile and helped fork another fried egg onto Lux’s already-laden plate. “Eat up, lad, you had a big night! Although I must say you’re not looking too peaky.”

The young paladin shrugged between eggy mouthfuls. “Shthanks,” he mumbled, before swallowing.

“I feel dandy. More full of beans than…” He gestured at his plate with his fork. “This plate.”

Menelaus leaned in to the group with a conspiratorial smile. “Good to hear, because you’ve got a big day, eh? Caela, Lux has told me all about this investigation of yours. Mutated animals, now isn’t that something! Your old man would be proud.”

Caela shifted in her seat, a little embarrassed that her uncle had finally divined her real motive for being in San Aria.

“That’s right. I just wanted to help the forest, so I tracked them here. But now I don’t have a clue where to look.”

There was a thoughtful pause among the assembled breakfasters. Mene, Johannes and Valerios leaned back to stroke their whiskers in sync.

“Well, if it’s oversized animals, there’s not as many places to hide them here as you’d think,” Mene mused. “The citizens are packed in more densely than Lux’s breakfast plate.”

The young man raised his fork to concede the point.

Menelaus nodded, coming to a decision. “I reckon the Colosseum’s your best bet. They do animal fights there, I think.”

Rose immediately sat up. “The Colosseum? Why didn’t you say, old timer? I’ve been dying for a duel since we got here, but you’ve been keeping me too busy to take a proper look.”

Menelaus hesitated, clearly not matching Rose’s enthusiasm. He shut his mouth, then started again.

“The other option is the Mages’ Guild. They’re a bloody secretive lot, but if there’s anyone who knows how these things are being created, it’s them.”

Johannes nodded side-to-side, pursing his lips. “This is true. This city's gaggle of arcanists may contain an above-average intellect or two. I was actually planning to visit them myself, in order to make an introduction.”

Rose wasn’t entirely swayed, his eyes still gleaming with enthusiasm. “I was never one for school, and there’s no chance those stuffed shirts will let half of us in. I bet I can get us through those Colosseum gates though.”

Valerios grunted. “The pugilist has a point. Besides, can we trust these purveyors of magical tricks?”

Beside him, Lux swallowed a large mouthful of bread. Brushing away crumbs, he interjected, “Seems like folks want to go to different places. We could make two teams, one for each location, then meet back here?”

All eyes swivelled to Caela, who was yet to present an opinion.

“My grandfather taught me never to split a hunting party,” she said in a small voice. “It’s common to think that someone isn’t needed for their group, only for them to turn out really useful later. Plus, it’s easy to lose communication, and if one group gets into trouble, it's hard to get help…

She trailed off, wishing she could slither out from underneath their combined attention.

“Perhaps…” she continued, without knowing where the thought was going, “we could… go to the Colosseum first, and then the Mages' Guild later?” Her voice raised towards the end into a questioning squeak.

There was a pause, followed by universal nodding and a medley of general agreement. Caela blinked, surprised by the immediate acceptance of what had seemed like a poor compromise. Lux put his cutlery down with a clatter and grinned across at her.

“That settles it. Lead on.”

He pushed his chair back, then stiffened, looking over Caela’s shoulder to the window behind her.

“Y’all see that?” he asked, urgently. At the confused looks on his allies’ faces, he frowned.

“I thought I saw someone watching us, peekin’ through that window there.”

Rose looked disturbed, moving to Lux’s shoulder and following his sightline. “You sure?”

Lux shook his head, not looking away from the window. “I ain’t, but… let me see.”

He breathed in, and for a moment his skin seemed to shine, as if he’d stoked some inner glowing embers. Then, fat golden tears began to well at the corners of his eyes: big globs of the liquid light that Caela had seen him use before. They stretched across his eyes until they were two gold orbs. Lux looked around the room, briefly lingering on its interior. Then, the molten gold seemed to evaporate, his eyes back to their usual cornflower blue as he blinked. Looking disappointed, he murmured. “No luck. Well, we’d best make a start.”

As the others shrugged and readied themselves to leave, picking the last leftovers from their plates, Caela caught Lux’s arm. “What’s wrong?” she asked under her breath. “What was that?”

“Oh. Right, I never talked about my Candlelight. That’s my gift, from being a… paladin, like Valerios said the other day. I can use it as a weapon, but it can do other stuff too. This one lets me tell if there’s anything… off… in the area.”

“Off? Like what?”

Lux turned to face her, his eyes big and solemn. They didn’t need to be that eerie gold to make her uneasy.

“Off, like… well, your uncle. It might not make a lick of sense, but… look, I don’t know why. But I looked at him, and…”

“Yes?” Caela suddenly felt cold.

“Well, you have a normal aura. Nothing out of kilter there. Evil things, bad things, they have an aura that’s… well, scary. Wrong.” Lux chuckled, uncertainly. “But your uncle, Caela… he doesn’t have any aura at all.”

—

Caela tried to shake off Lux’s ominous words as the group headed towards the Colosseum.  The sun was rising over the buildings, and she willed it to burn away her shadowy thoughts. Lux was, after all, someone she’d just met, and a self-professed novice at his powers. She knew her uncle… didn’t she?

In the lead, Rose was scheming.

“Right, so these places are normally pretty hush-hush - don’t want some rival coming in to poach all the talent, you see? So we’ll need a cover story to let us snoop around.”

Johannes gleamed at him through his spectacles. “What do you suggest?”

Rose beamed back. “The poaching thing cuts both ways. If they smell a new prospect in our group, they won’t be able to resist bringing us in to give us the sales pitch. Now, as much as I’d like to get my hands dirty, I’m the only one here who knows the business, so I’ll need to do all the negotiating as the prospect’s manager.”

Johannes ran an analytical eye over their companions. Caela, trailing behind them, seemed lost in thought.

“Master Valerios? I’d wager he could wipe the floor with that arena.”

Rose acknowledged this statement matter-of-factly. “No doubt, but there’s a question of image. It’s not just about winning, it’s about energising the crowd, making sure they come back for the next match, and buy plenty of merchandise while they’re there. No, it needs to be a promising young prospect, someone like…”

Both men locked eyes on Lux.

In front of them, the curving arena wall rose up to block their path. A double-wide portcullis signalled that, when it was open, this entrance would be host to thousands of excited - and profitable - attendees.

Without a moment’s pause to navigate, Rose headed for a side door, heavy and iron-banded. He puffed up the ruffles on his shirt, running his hands over his hair to make sure no stray blonde strands were loose.

Lux, still processing his nomination, called after him. “Hey! Shouldn’t we plan the details before we go stormin’ in?” He gave Caela a panicked look.

Rose flashed him a cocky wink over his shoulder. “Details, Lux? Planning? You need to learn to think on your feet.”

He rapped on the door, as confident as if he owned the place. “Visitors for the Pit Master, very urgent!”

A peephole halfway down the door slid open. Rose leaned down as far as possible to beam through the opening at the halfling guard peering out.

“You got an appointment?” the guard croaked.

“Appointment?” Rose cried. “My good man, I can assure you that your master has been waiting for this meeting for a very long time. Now bring us to him - not a moment longer! - or my client will get very agitated.”

Rose leaned on a familiar lever - that of the pushy diva - and the guard reacted as expected. He rolled his eyes, and clacked the peephole shut. After a moment, there came a low mechanical groan as the portcullis was raised by unseen pulleys. The quintet, led by a still-beaming Rose, entered the shady tunnel.

Their path took them through the cool vomitorium - Rose quickly leaped in to address Lux’s misapprehension, explaining that it was a type of tunnel - and up into the arena stands. The few workers they passed didn’t give them much more than a curious glance. Rose seemed to have a clear route in mind, despite his gleeful expression making it clear that this was his first visit to San Aria’s fight venue.

Eventually, they reached a covered box with more luxurious seating than the stands, where Rose impudently took his place on a lacquered stool. Looking at the others loitering in the entrance, he waved energetically at the scattered couches.

“Make yourselves at home!” he hissed excitedly. “We’ve not got long until the boss gets word of us, and we need to make him think we’re too important to wait for permission. Here, Lux, next to me on the big one. No-one share with him. And big man - yes, you near the door, looming, good. You’ve done this before, I see.”

The rest dutifully followed Rose’s stage directions - Lux squatting centre-stage, Johannes coolly helping himself to the drinks bar, Caela attempting to smoulder in the corner, and Valerios indeed looming, his impatient lean looking genuine.

After a moment, Caela saw a short man approach their box from the stands, flanked by two shirtless, musclebound orcs. Not lacking in muscle himself, the stocky middle-aged dwarf had skin like graphite, dark hair, and beetle-black armour draped with an ashen cape. Apart from the scarlet irises that regarded them all with a fiery gaze, he was a palette of greys. Patting his braided beard, he stepped into the box and accepted a handshake from Rose, thick hand glittering with onyx rings.

“Welcome to Colosseo San Aria, Mr…?” the Pit Master inquired, in a gravelly drawl. Rose returned the dwarf’s powerful grip, nodding in thanks.

“Rose, Velen Rose. I ran the circuits down on the south coast.” He spoke so confidently that Caela almost believed him.

The Pit Master settled into a black wooden chair pulled up by one of his orcish bodyguards.

“What brings you to our fine city, Mr Rose?”

“Oh, nothing really, just wanted to come check out the arena. I had heard there were big things happening here.” Rose looked out over the arena, then turned with a smile. “Thank you for your hospitality, by the way. Impressive place you have here.”

The Pit Master looked past him to Lux, conveniently placed in his line of sight. Lux continued to stare at the tile patterns on the floor.

“This is… a friend of yours? These others are also friends?”

Rose sighed, looking sheepish. Caela could imagine him using that face on a short-changed moneylender or an angry lover. It could probably have made a tiger let him off the hook.

“Ah, you got me!” Rose admitted. He put up his hands, letting his loose sleeves reveal his forearms. “I’m here on business. This killer here is Lux, the Sunblade, a lad I scouted back home.” He clapped a hand on Lux’s shoulder. “He’s a real hidden gem. Can’t believe my luck, catching him this early in his career…”

Cutting himself off, Rose clapped a hand over his mouth. “What am I saying, talking shop? I’m sure you’re sick of these desperate pitches, eh?” He shook his head. “Well, my lips are sealed. No more work talk. How’s your wife?”

The Pit Master waved away Rose’s barrage of words like smoke blown in his face. “Hold on, Mr Rose, no need to be so coy. It happens that I have had trouble retaining talent, lately. Maybe we can make some sort of deal. Your boy, he resilient?”

Rose nodded.

“Fearless?”

“He’s stood up to me.”

“Is he a winner?”

“Honestly? With the right guidance he could do great things.”

The dwarf nodded, looking appraisingly at Lux. The boy continued to avoid anyone’s gaze, as instructed.

Activity on the arena floor caught Caela’s attention. Two more burly guards dragged out a manacled, dishevelled brute, tossing him onto the sand near the centre. One guard unwrapped a bundle containing a helmet, a wicked scimitar and a rounded metal shield. These were tossed onto the sand with as little care as the beefy prisoner.

Rose half-stood, his expression dropping for the first time as the barely-clothed man began arming himself.

“Who’s that? He looks barely trained. A travelling guest fighter?”

The armoured dwarf chuckled cruelly. “No, that… is very much part of our permanent roster. He will be up against one of our newer residents, another rising star, as you might put it.”

The sun beat down on the dusty floor, a blinding oval ringed by deep shadows. One of these detached itself, stalking towards the manacled man.

It was a small, cloaked figure, their face obscured by a theatrical mask. The pale visage was decorated with twisting curlicues of gold that glinted in the light. From one soft sleeve dropped a concealed dagger, caught by a black-gloved hand. The other reached to the figure’s belt to calmly draw a needle-like rapier.

“They’re slaves,” Rose observed with growing horror.

The Pit Master showed his slab-like teeth. “Yes, they’re very useful. You can put them up against travelling champions like yourself, lions, bears, you name it. Easy on the salary negotiations, and they can’t get poached by my rivals.”

He spared a glance for Rose’s expression and laughed. “Come now, Mr Rose, what kind of arena did you think this was?”

He stood.

“I must attend to some small business. We will talk details later, but first… enjoy the show.”

The ‘show’, such as it was, could hardly have been called a match. The brutish prisoner charged forwards, raising his sword like a club, only to catch a thrown dagger to his armpit. His sword-arm fell uselessly as his tiny opponent rushed forwards. The man barely managed to raise his shield to block an incoming thrust, which scraped off the battered metal.

Then, impossibly, the cloaked figure jumped towards the shield, gripping it with hands and feet like a climber scaling a wall. For a moment, the gleaming rapier hung in the air, before plunging down into the shield’s baffled holder, who went down in a spray of red. The cloaked figure turned towards the box, acknowledging the audience for the first time, but did not bow.

A dozen nervous guards emerged to apply manacles to the contest’s winner. They didn’t seem to resist, despite the precautions, allowing themselves to be led back into the darkness.

With time until their host returned, the group exploded into a frenzy of discussion. Lux wheeled on Rose.

“You didn’t say it would be like this. You expect us to stand by while you’re playing games with some slaver?”

The blond man stared, shell-shocked, at the blood on the sandy oval.

“Nothing?” Lux demanded.

“I.. didn’t…” Rose managed, stupefied.

Lux shook his head in disgust. “I don’t want no part of this. I’ll put a stop to it, even if you don’t want to.”

He drew his shortsword and turned away. “Come on, Mr Valerios, we have prisoners to free.”

His incipient rampage was stopped by the moustachioed knight placing a heavy gauntlet on his shoulder. Lux searched for righteous fury in Valerios’ eyes, but was surprised to instead see sympathy.

“Hold, young pup,” he rumbled. “Can’t you see what’s happening?”

He gestured to Rose’s downcast posture. “The dancer lives to fight, loves it. To fight dishonourably, against unwilling opponents - it is anathema to him. That arena floor is his temple, and he has seen it desecrated. He would like nothing more than to help you tear this place down, but he is instead swallowing the bile. Because he made a promise to help you.”

Caela crept towards Rose, placing a gloved hand on his broad shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asked, gently. Rose’s expression, which had previously been expressive and carefree, was now set in thunderous determination.

At that moment, the Pit Master re-emerged from the tunnel entrance, smiling like a hyena. He spread his ringed hands magnanimously.

“Good news, Mr Rose, we would indeed like to do business with your rising star.”

The blond fighter pushed himself away from the box’s balcony, his face once more genial. He put out a hand to shake, only for the dwarf to remove his own.

“There is but one additional thing. I have taken the liberty of doing a little research just now, and I know you, Mr Rose, but I do not know your protégé. I would like to know you are not selling me a painted mule, yes? I would like to see him fight...”

The hyena smile broadened.

“...you.”

Lux stiffened, looking with panic at his new manager. Rose did not return his glance, speaking directly to the dwarf.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

—

Lux nervously flitted around Rose as they strode down the steps to the arena floor.

“Mr Rose, I-”

Rose interrupted in a low voice.

“Pick up one of those wooden training swords, I’m not immune to blades just yet. Otherwise, you can swing full force. And get ready for me to do the same.”

Lux tried to protest as they made their way across the sand, but Rose continued.

“This guy’s a piece of work. He’s going to know if you pull your punches. Fortunately, I’ve got experience in that area. Used to do it for a living, actually. People like him up there, they can make a lot of money when they know how a fight’s going to go.”

Lux’s eyes widened. “Used to? Something go pear-shaped?”

Rose grit his teeth. “It’s no way to live, so I stopped. Even though it made some wealthy people very upset. I wanted my fights to make a difference, to do some good. Well - maybe I can use that to do some good now.”

They found the now-dried marker of the previous fight, the blood fading to a rusty brown on the sand. Rose turned to put his sweating forehead against Lux’s. He spoke, quietly, but firmly.

“Listen, we both know who has to take the fall here.”

“You don’t mind losing?”

“I’ve had my chance to look strong. Now it’s your turn.”

Rose’s smile returned, and he clanked his fists against Lux’s gauntlets before springing back a few paces. He called up to the box.

“First blood. Professor, if you wouldn’t mind counting us in?”

Johannes hastened to put down his brandy glass, and called out:

“Three, two, one… fight!”

As the wizard began his countdown, Lux scrabbled to lift his wooden sword. As soon as the final word echoed round the arena, Rose moved.

He sprinted directly at his opponent, impossibly fast for a man of his size. Arms spread like a bull’s horns, ready to catch its target. He tackled the smaller man, lifting him off his feet and driving him back-first into the sand. The small audience saw a puff of orange dust as Lux had the wind knocked out of him. Gasping for air, he squinted up at the sun, only to see it blocked by a rising leg. Instinctively, he rolled as Rose dropped a cleaving axe kick on the spot he had occupied moments before.

Lux stumbled to his feet and ran to gain a few feet of space, but his unarmoured opponent was already approaching. Rose’s shirt had torn open with the force of his charge. He slapped a shining pectoral, and Lux realised with a start that Rose was giving him a target. He swung his sword, which rebounded off the flesh with a deafening smack. Rose barely seemed to register the giant bruise that was emerging, raining down hammer-blows upon Lux’s shield like a blacksmith at his forge.

Lux slashed wildly, but Rose ducked and rolled through the swings, spinning around to deliver a bone-shaking kick to his ankle. Lux yelped as something gave way, nearly sending him to the dirt, but felt an unexpected surge of strength. He looked down at his leg. A spider-web of Candlelight was reinforcing the limb, supporting it where the muscles had momentarily failed.

He heard Rose mutter, “Well, that’s new.”

New to both of us, he thought, grimly. You can’t imagine how little I understand about my own powers.

Lux and Rose circled each other. For the first time, he watched Rose - really watched him. Not just the bravado and the tattoos, but the fighter beneath. In his element, entirely at ease despite the hot sun, his bruises, the watching audience high above. A creature with complete mastery of his self.

Impulsively, he called out.

“Will you teach me? I mean - after this. How to be like you?”

Rose wiped his brow, an eager light in his eyes. “I’d be more than happy to train you, Lux, but I can’t teach you how to be me. Only how to be yourself.” He grinned. “Now come on - hit me like you mean it!”

He charged in again, and Lux felt the warmth of Candlelight overtake him. It ran from the cracks in his armour, coating the wooden stick in liquid gold. Rose bore down upon him, winding back a boulder-splitting right hook. Lux readied his glowing blade, and lunged.

He felt the barest contact, as Rose twisted past him, stumbling to a stop a few feet beyond. The last remnants of the fighter’s shirt fluttered away as he clutched his chest and hissed in pain. Still, his free hand beckoned. Come on.

Lux entered his flow state, advancing with one practiced move after another. Rose was on the back foot now - unable to block the sword, he was forced to avoid making any contact at all. He danced back, crimson boots kicking up dust, then suddenly stopped and leaned back. Lux swung over his head, momentum carrying him forward into Rose’s trap.

The grappler clamped his hands around Lux’s waist, easily lifting the smaller man and twisting to plant him spine-first onto the sand. Lux found himself pinned under Rose’s full weight, as he readied a devastating forearm. But when the blow came, it grazed the ridge of his breastplate, scratching open Rose’s arm.

“What are you doing?” Lux gasped.

Rose grinned between puffs of exertion. “Getting some colour. Now kick me.”

Lux got his knees up and heaved against Rose. As his boots made contact, the larger man lifted off him, flying backwards and landing on his back. Rose raised his arm, blood trickling down to his bicep.

There was a pause. Johannes, unsure how to react, eventually announced: “Um, Lux wins?”

Lux scrambled to his feet, running to Rose’s side. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

Rose flashed him a reassuring grin between gritted teeth. “Don’t worry, I’m playing to the crowd.” He winced. “Though I hardly have to try - that glowing stuff really burns.”

Lux reached down, Candlelight seeping forth to cover his palm.

“Hey, now,” Rose called nervously, “the match is over- hey, HEY!”

His panic was cut short when Lux pressed a glowing hand to his arm. When it lifted away, Rose watched in amazement as the light settled into his wound, quickly reducing the crimson stream to a trickle that halted entirely after a few seconds.

Lux helped him to his feet. “I’m only supposed to use my powers for good,” he murmured, embarrassed.

Rose accepted the assistance, raising Lux’s arm in victory. “You did do good. You’ve got us one step closer to our goal, and once we’re done here, we can show the boss what a real fight looks like, eh?” He winked.

They rejoined their companions and the Pit Master, who approached the ring, flanked by fan-bearing slaves and a female dwarf in clerical robes. He clapped his stubby, beringed hands.

“Very good, very good - you match your descriptions, Mr Rose, and you certainly have an eye for talent.”

Rose accepted a servant’s proffered towel, dabbing the scratch on his bruised chest. “Thanks. But if we’re talking talent, I need to know my boy’s going to face the best while he’s here.”

The Pit Master sniffed.

“Ah, well, you must of course get a closer look at the competition.  Please, let my secretary Theodesia take you on a tour of the cells.”

With unwillingly muttered thanks, they took their leave of the decidedly unpleasant man, leaving him standing proudly on the dirt of his arena. Leaving the sun behind, they descended into the bowels of the colosseum.

6. Tooth and Dagger >>