70 Procession

"To all those who have gathered here, know that all of your friends and fellow students will be watching in the stands, eager to see your victory," Provost Thomson stood in front of an assembled group of maybe twenty or so students, including Jacob. It was fine for a motivational speech, but it was largely ineffective on Jacob. He didn't have any friends among the students or the soldiers, so to speak.

Cynthia stood in front of him, closer to her aunt. Her attitude was easy-going; she wasn't the least bit worried about the competition she'd face in the arena. The Autumn Tournament was a joke for her, which rankled him. If he faced her in the arena again, he'd beat her without magic. When she glared at him for watching her, he turned his attention back to the Provost.

"If any of you make it to the top sixteen, you are excused from your physical conditioning classes. The other rewards will be provided by the Duke himself, so work hard. For the glory of Relentless!" she called, raising her gleaming sword. The students of Relentless returned the cry, emboldened by their legendary provost. Jacob screamed with them, if only not to look more out of place than he already did.

Provost Thomson then led the group out of the main hall, guiding them past a line of students wishing their comrades the best of luck. A few soldiers were among them, clapping Jacob on the back as he passed. It was a surprise, but it was a welcome one. The armed group then passed through the gates of Relentless, the Blade College's guardsmen giving the Autumn Tournament participants a salute upon their exit.

Out on the streets, everyone gave them a wide berth, scared of all the steel that they bore. It was only on this day, every year, that those who were not city guardsmen were able to bare their weapons. Though the rule, on the surface, seemed to encourage violence on this specific day, any criminal would have to be of very little intelligence to attack anyone. Every tenth person was a warrior; drawing steel would inevitably draw their attention.

Maybe Duke Hycinth was a genius with this Autumn Tournament. It drew warriors from all across Delreya, turning them into a sort of free police force for the duration of the festival. This in turn provided a safe-ish environment for the citizens of Steelshade to enjoy the festivities. Jacob saw many families walking around at the very edges of the street, smiles plastered onto their faces.

For all of King Benjamin's depravity, Duke Hycinth seemed to be better. That illusion shattered as the Relentless warriors passed by a nobleman's entourage. A few servants trailed them, sadness surrounding them like a thick fog. Allowing such a practice was despicable. In addition to receiving a masterwork weapon, the winner of the Tournament was also able to ask any one boon from the Duke. Perhaps he'd ask the man to free the servants, as unlikely as it was that he'd actually do so.

Jacob's spatha jumped around on his waist as he thought, the hilt hitting his hips every so often because of the incorrectly sized sheathe. He tempered his frustration, knowing that being irrationally angry wouldn't help him before the tournament. His green cape billowed out behind him, playing well into the color scheme dictated by his tabard. Each contestant was to wear a tabard to display who they were representing. Though Jacob was nominally coming as a contestant of Relentless Blade College, no one wanted to offend the King by claiming one of his soldiers as theirs. Thus, he'd be announced as belonging to the College but his colors would remain the same as before.

The rest of the students next to him wore pure red. It was very simple, but it certainly did offer a kind of colorful and impressive look to the warriors. When the arena drew into sight, the massive building vaguely resembling the famed Roman Coliseum, Jacob recognized the warriors of Dauntless Blade College. It was no difficult task, for they wore simple purple tabards in the same style as Relentless.

Their warriors would prove to be the greatest competition the students of Relentless would have to face. Other than a few wild cards from across the country, the majority of the best warriors came from either college. Most people didn't have the ability to set aside enough time to train unless they earned a scholarship from a college. That limited the amount of wild talent there could ever be at a single time, which was something Jacob was sure King Benjamin was happy about.

Despite their placement in this tournament, any graduate from a Blade or War College, the latter of which trained students in the use of tactics, was entitled to an officer's commission in the King's army if all else failed. Typically, a noble would recruit a graduate to serve as the foundation of their own private forces. That paid much better than service in the King, but it brought less prestige. For the commoner students of the colleges, prestige was worth almost nothing. Jacob was inclined to agree.

Provost Thomson stopped their little procession. "This is it, everyone. The gate for competitors is directly to the right of the main gates. You are all already registered, so there is no need to worry about that. The Autumn Tournament will begin in an hour or two. Get yourself settled in the competitor's area and wait for the Duke's men to announce the official start. I'll be back with the rest of the students closer to the start time. Since this is the last time I'll see you before the tournament… good luck!"

Her words eased Jacob's worries about what he would have to do, given that he had never been to one of these before. As he turned to follow the rest of his cohort – for there was safety in numbers – Provost Thomson stopped him.

"The first step on your path lies in that arena, Jacob. If you want to achieve what I believe you do, you must win." The words stunned him, giving the Provost plenty of time to make her escape. When he finally decided what he wanted to ask as a follow-up, she had already disappeared.

No pressure, right?