Wizard Tournament: Chapter 37 (Patreon)

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          Faernyl’s barrier was depleted and he had spent all his mana on that last attack. He tried to muster enough mana for a Force Dart but failed. The demon kept dragging itself closer, slowly yet steadily. When it got right on top of Faernyl he held up his arms.

          “Fuck this, I’m done!” Faernyl shouted. “Tell it to stop, Petey!” He braced for the demon to strike at him anyways.

          The demon faded away. The crater faded away. The trail of black blood faded away. All signs of combat faded away except for Peter, standing only a few feet from where he started. Peter pumped a fist in triumph.

          The bell rang. “Faernyl has surrendered. Peter wins.”

          It didn’t take very long for the smattering of applause Peter received to die down. As soon as it did, Draevin reeled on Sylnya and said, “What happened?”

          “It’s not my fault you didn’t cast True Sight before the match,” she said, all innocence. “I was just surprised to see him cast an aeromancy cantrip to create a gust of wind at the same time as his illusion. I forgot he could do that. I didn’t mean to make you think the demon was real.”

          That actually was interesting to learn. Peter had mixed in a gust of wind to make his illusion feel more real, similar to his trick with the blood the other day. Draevin shook his head angrily. “I wasn’t talking about the match. How did your talk with Caelnaste go? You said she wasn’t involved but we have two separate sources that say she’s been trying to kill me outside of the tournament.”

          “Peter’s just guessing and we both know Istven isn’t trustworthy.”

          “Sylnya. My memories were—”

          “That was Tomrha,” Sylnya countered. “NotCaelnaste. You know, if you’d bothered to talk to her you would know that she’s a victim in all this too. She’s just now finding out that her marriage was a lie. She’s completely on our side in all this. She said there was a contract out on you to prevent you from beating Zolt, but now that he’s been eliminated its null and void.”

          “Wait, really? You mean I don’t have to watch my back anymore?”

          “Of course not.” Sylnya confirmed. “She’s going to have a cerebromancer take a look at her head after her match and invited me to do the same. She was extremely upset. I can’t believe you didn’t even want to talk to her! Why do you have to assume that every eldrin is out to get you?”

          “Well considering how things have been going lately I don’t think that’s entirely unreasonable of me,” Draevin said. He wasn’t about to set aside his well-founded hatred of eldrin just because Sylnya said so.

          “We can all go get looked at together then. Put this whole Tomrha thing behinds us.” Sylnya paused for a second, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “She also said she was embarrassed about the whole Grrbraa thing. She said Tomrha programmed a contingency in her mind to take revenge for him if he ever died. She’s actually glad Grrbraa killed Tomrha now that her memories are coming back.”

          “How convenient,” Peter’s voice called out from behind them.

          “Oh Peter, you’re back already,” Sylnya said. “I have your ticket stub. I bet you’re regretting that rumor now aren’t you? You could have made way more money.”

          Peter snatched the ticket and stuffed it into a pocket. “I wouldn’t have made anything if Faernyl hadn’t fallen for that illusory demon,” he said seriously.

          “You could have used your Fireball scroll,” Draevin pointed out.

          Peter shrugged. “Saving the scroll is worth more to me than a bit of gold. What was it you were saying about Caelnaste?”

          Sylnya jumped right in. “She was as much a victim as either of us. Tomrha got inside her head first. She agreed to get looked at after her match and clear up things with the queen for us.”

          Peter took his seat and said nothing. He reached into an inner pocket and took out a piece of paper. He slipped it to Draevin on the sly. It read: Bʟᴀᴍᴇ Tᴏᴍʀʜᴀ. Aɢʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ. Gᴇᴛ Dʀᴀᴇᴠɪɴ ᴛᴏ ᴅʀᴏᴘ ʜɪs ɢᴜᴀʀᴅ.

          “What’s this?” Draevin asked him.

          “Just some notes I wrote a couple hours ago,” he said nonchalantly. Peter then whispered to Draevin. “What I would say if I were her. If I were lying.” Then more loudly he continued with, “She said they were going to call off the attack, right?”

          “That’s right,” Sylnya said proudly. “I told you it was worth talking to her.” Peter tucked the note away before Sylnya could get a look at it.

          “I have a question before the match starts,” Peter spoke up all of a sudden. “If both Hanu and Caelnaste are registered with the Guild then how does she plan to win her match without killing him? Doesn’t that bow kill anyone in one hit?”

          “Only when it’s fully charged,” Sylnya answered. “It’s barely more powerful than a regular bow right now.”

          “Then how come Queen Fayse is the only diplomat in attendance this year?” Peter pointed a finger at the VIP stands across the way. Draevin wasn’t sure where Peter was getting his information but he seemed exceptionally well-informed for a human. A quick glance confirmed that the queen was the only one sitting in the VIP section. The seats for the leaders of the other major nations were conspicuously empty.

          “It’s just a Guild policy,” Sylnya explained. “That bow has been used to assassinate audience members in the past and there’s no way to know how much blood it has recently consumed without firing it. It’s just better safe than sorry. But don’t worry about it, Caelnaste assured me that it doesn’t have enough power to kill in one shot this year, let alone punch through the wards protecting the crowd.”

          “Please take your seats, today’s final match between Caelnaste and Hanu is about to begin,” Maeve announced. It seemed the engineers were able to make record time cleaning up after Peter’s match, considering most of the damage to the field had been illusory.

          “Hanu is an eldrin armamancer from the Republic of Caldenia,” Maeve started. The crowd cheered and Draevin returned his attention to the next match. Hanu was waving to his fans in the crowd. Hanu was a particularly popular contestant and the only eldrin who’d attracted a large base of elven fans. Draevin had to admit he might be the only eldrin who happened to be a decent person.

          “Why is an eldrin being sponsored by Caldenia?” Peter asked.

          “Elf pussy,” Sylnya said with a smirk.

          “Sylnya!” Draevin shoved her in the shoulder, but she just cackled manically.

          “What! Isn’t he still dating that elvish noblewoman? The Denlo girl?”

          “Yeah, but he was an elvish advocate before they started dating.” Draevin turned to comment to Peter but found the human in a deadly-serious mood with his eyes darting around furiously in intense concentration. He opted for silence instead.

          “Hanu has brought as his item this year Traelyn’s Translocating Gauntlet,” Maeve announced. Hanu held one of his hands aloft. He sported a thick white glove on that hand with a few runes etched into the back. The glove on his other hand made the two a nearly identical pair, though it was likely just so his outfit matched. Hanu had clearly spent a lot of time on his outfit too; the gloves matched the white of his eyes and skin, which acted as accents for his deep blue crushed velvet suit and pants. He even had white frills around his chest and wrists. Yet another contestant that looked better prepared for a ballroom dance than a wizard battle.

          “Hanu’s wish if he wins this year’s tournament,” Maeve continued, “is to kill every racist eldrin on the planet.”

          “Wow,” Sylnya said in the midst of the crowd’s mixed cheers and boos, “that’s fucking harsh.”

          “I like him,” Peter said.

          “Me too,” Draevin agreed, while clapping politely.

          Maeve made the next comment in a perfectly flat monotone. “Hanu would like to say that as an eldrin himself he knows that Eldesian society is rotten to the core, but since eldrin are the problem he knows it’ll take an eldrin to step up and fix it.”

          “Let go of your hatred my brothers and sisters!” Hanu shouted out to the crowd as loud as his un-enhanced voice could. In contrast to Maeve, his voice carried real passion. He received an angry glare from Maeve, but the crowd didn’t seem to mind. Most of the eldrin in the audience made a point to not clap or react in any way, not even booing him. The rest of the crowd cheered enthusiastically but with so many eldrin in attendance, the effect was somewhat diminished due to large swaths of the crowd not feeling comfortable applauding. Draevin looked to see how Queen Fayse was reacting and found her calmly walking out of the arena with a few attendants following close behind.

          “He’s fucking suicidal saying all that with the queen present,” Sylnya said as she clapped politely. Peter was busy giving the eldrin a standing ovation.

          “Well his family controls one of the largest mana wells in the world,” Draevin reminded her. “So he’s as close to untouchable as a private citizen can get. Eldrin eat mana after all.”

          “Still,” Peter said from above Draevin’s shoulder as he continued applauding, “at least someone’s saying it.”

          Hanu’s anti-eldrin stance was causing quite the stir and a group of eight elves down in the front row were holding signs—one letter each—that spelled out, “WE ♥ U HANU.” He gave them a friendly wave as Maeve moved on.

          “Hanu’s opponent today is the lovely previous champion Caelnaste,” as soon as she started introducing Caelnaste Maeve’s voice returned to a much more enthusiastic tone. “Caelnaste is an eldrin seer representing Queen Fayse of Eldesia. Give a warm welcome to six time tournament champion, Caelnaste!” Just like that the crowd completely flipped. Sylnya was perhaps the only person in the audience to cheer for both candidates. All the elves and humans who’d been cheering for Hanu a moment before started booing, while nearly every eldrin in attendance stood to give a hearty cheer for their champion. With Tomrha gone she was the only serious contender Eldesia had left in the rosters.

          Draevin jumped up to add his boos to the crowd and stuck his tongue out at Sylnya when she gave him a dirty look for it. For his part, Peter chose to remain seated.

          “Caelnaste’s husband has just…” Maeve was saying, but Peter leaned in and whispered in Draevin’s ear so he lost the thread of the speech.

          “Can you spot me some mana?” he asked. “I’m tapped out after that match.”

          Draevin was a little annoyed at being asked, but he was too polite to decline after everything Peter had done lately. He put one hand on the human’s shoulder and pushed a trickle of mana his way. It really didn’t take that much to fill him up anyway. A small price to pay for Peter’s added security.

          “…the infamous Dred’Slynt bow,” Maeve finished as Draevin returned his attention to the arena. Caelnaste pulled her bow off her back and held it aloft. The rough black steel of it absorbed all the light that hit it, but it let off a deep red glow from some unknown internal source near the center of the shaft. She was still wearing her ridiculously long purple hair in a single braid down to her waist where it wrapped around her like a belt, but at least her clothing indicated a respect for the tournament. She was wearing a close-fitting shirt and leggings that still had enough give to provide flexible movement, with a set of leather archery braces and gloves. It looked about how you’d expect a real archer to look, even though her bow almost certainly didn’t work like a regular one.

          “Caelnaste’s wish if she wins this year’s tournament is to kill all elves within one hundred leagues of the Trenal west bank,” Maeve said. This one got the crowd buzzing as well.

          “Clever bitch,” Draevin commented.

          “Why is that so clever?” Peter asked.

          “Caldenia’s got troops positioned on the border right now. They probably had to start abandoning their defensive positions yesterday when the Guild informed them that Caelnaste qualified with a wish like that. The judges get advanced notice of the contestant information. If she wins the tournament in four days it would be too late to get the troops out in time if they didn’t start moving as soon her wish was announced.”

          “Caelnaste wants Hanu to know that…”

          Peter squeezed Draevin’s arm and leaned in close. Sylnya was still watching the announcements with interest. “If what you’re saying is right,” Peter hissed furiously, “she’s not even trying to win!”

          “Of course she’s still—”

          “No! If the troops are already moving there’s no benefit to her actually getting her wish granted, and she can see the future!” Peter’s voice had an intensity Draevin had never heard out of him before. “Didn’t Sylnya just say that her bow has been used to assassinate people in the audience before?”

          “I don’t get it,” Draevin admitted, “what are you trying to say?”

          “You need to leave. Now. Before she kills you.” Peter waved a hand, releasing a swirl of mana that did something Draevin couldn’t see, then he pushed Draevin off the bench they shared.

          “Draevin?” Sylnya asked, returning her attention from the field back to her companions.

          “Yeah?” Draevin asked. Except he didn’t ask that. He didn’t say anything. Another Draevin was sitting on the bench next to Peter and he was the one that answered. The real Draevin looked at his hands and realized he couldn’t see them: his entire body was invisible.

          “What were you two whispering about over there?” she asked as Maeve signaled the bell to start the match.

          Considering the whole point of keeping Peter around was for his unpredictability Draevin decided it was just best to do what he said. He would be sure to make fun of him for it later though. He quietly stalked out of the booth.

          “I was just talking to Peter about Caelnaste,” the fake Draevin said in a slightly shriller voice than Draevin thought he actually had, “and I think you might be right. Maybe she’s not out to get me.”

          Before Sylnya could agree or the real Draevin could object the crowd gave a loud, “Ahh!” of surprise and a spear of hellfire careened into the fake Draevin’s chest and pinned him against the far wall. There was a short delay between when the arrow stuck and the body flew backwards, but probably not enough that anybody besides Draevin noticed. As the fiery mass of the arrow burned off in the illusory-Draevin’s chest, so too did the Draevin’s eyes. Sylnya screamed.

          From the arena a strange popping sound reverberated followed by an announcement from Maeve. “Caelnaste has left the arena. Hanu wins.”

          “Draevin!” Sylnya shouted. “Draevin!”

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