Aden looked at the paper in his hand and then up at
the posting over the entrance to the grounds. His, as it was
supposed to, read: Arena 2, non-magical combat, weapons allowed. The
sign above the door however stated, Arena 1: magical combat,
papoei/support magic items only.
This could be a problem. As he compared his paper to
the sign a few more times, hoping that it might change somehow,
someone poked him rudely in the side. Startled he whipped around to
find a frowning Rooster regarding him with mild question in her face
rather than the normal glare.
“What are you doing here?” She said point blank. He
wondered the same thing and didn’t really have an answer for that.
His slow response brought back the familiar expression of disgust.
“Are you daft? This is the arena for the mage fights
you moron, and if I remember correctly, you aren’t one!”
“I...well, that’s true,” he agreed lamely.
She rolled her eyes. “And so...? Caes isn’t so stupid
as to put you here, but if you’re here, does that mean he’s fighting
in the melee arena?”
Aden hadn’t considered this and he clapped a hand to
his forehead with such force that Rooster took a step back.
“Bit of a fix isn’t it,” said a bored voice. Both
couriers turned to see Virgil making his way towards them. The
cleric strolled over, mild interest in their expressions reflected
in his own dark blue eyes. He ran a long fingered hand through his
hair and glanced at the sign.
“Ah, I guess this is the place.”
Rooster stabbed a finger at his chest. “You’re here
too? Oh gods...it’ll be a massacre.”
The cleric raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t expect
Killey to fight here did you? He hasn’t got a drop of magic in him.
Of course,” he regarded Aden. “Neither do you so maybe our strategy
was wrong?”
Aden shrugged and Rooster looked ready to tear her
hair out.
“People with no talent should not be here! You think
the other houses will be sticking non-magic berks into this arena?
No! They’ll be stacking it with heavy hitters and those that dropped
out of the Mage’s Guild. You guys are screwed!” “Aden,” she said,
with a violent cutting motion, “has no magic ability and no papoei
right?”
Aden shifted, unconsciously touching the feathers in
his armband, but said nothing. “In this fight you can’t even strike
the person physically unless you have some sort of charge around
your fist or converter. Most mages are long distance fighters and
without your knives, which you can’t use anyway, you’re going to end
up one giant smear across the floor.”
He couldn’t really disagree with her there. Caes had
said something similar, but even coming from him it had sounded a
bit more optimistic than Rooster’s assessment. Virgil patted his
shoulder consolingly.
“I wouldn’t feel sorry for him too much,” Rooster
continued. “He’s not the only one that’s going to get flattened.”
“However do you mean?” Virgil said distractedly,
attention rapidly moving elsewhere.
“You’re a...” She frowned. “You...Do you even have any
offensive magic Virgil?”
His calm face betrayed nothing as he shrugged.
“I knew it,” she sighed. “You’re both going to die.”
“Why d’you care anyway?” Aden wanted to know.
“Because I don’t want our house looking like it’s
filled to the brim with losers. Even if it is.”
“Go team spirit,” Virgil hummed softly under his
breath.
“I mean, I guess we’ll make out okay with Dego and
Killey in the other matches, but-I’ll even admit it-I’d rather Caes
were here.”
“That makes two of us,” Aden agreed. “But, I guess
it’s just me so we’ll have to make due.”
“Well, try to hold out for a couple of minutes
anyway.” With that last bit said she turned heel and passed under
the arch into the arena.
“Doesn’t seem worried about herself,” Virgil noted.
Aden snorted. “Why is it that all magic users seem to
think those without are losers? It’s not like they’d do any better
in a physical fight without it than me in a magic fight without it.”
Virgil cocked his head to one side. “I think you’ll do
fine, and I don’t think all magic users feel that way.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re not one.”
“I guess I’m not in the strict sense. It’s not my
power that I use, but I do direct it.”
Aden bounced up and down on his toes. “Yeah, that’s
right. You pray for it or something and Yyragil just gives it to
you?”
“Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“When he’s in a good mood.”
“And when’s that?”
“Hopefully when I’m asking,” Virgil said with a grin.
