Chapter 9
"Is everything in place? I don't want the competition to be sabotaged. Damn that Nathair! If not for him, we wouldn't have to conduct this competition in secret," a man clad in full armor questioned the person in charge of security.
"Yes, Ser Vicente, there's no need to worry. We've assembled two entire army units in case someone does attempt anything funny," the security officer assured him. Then, he ventured cautiously, "But Ser, how much trust do you place in this man, Timis?"
"My thoughts don't matter," Ser Vicente asserted firmly. "Timis rose through the ranks without any shady dealings. He's the man who controls the entire Enforcers unit. They don't call him Overwatch for nothing. His information is always accurate. If he says there's a chance someone might attack His Majesty, taking advantage of the competition, then we must do everything in our power to keep him safe." With that declaration, Ser Vicente left to confer with another individual, leaving the security officer to ponder the weight of his words.
Stepping out of the cramped command tent, Ser Vicente gazed upon the sprawling vista of the competition grounds. His sharp eyes panned across the vast array of vibrant pavilions dotting the landscape as far as the eye could see. From his vantage point on the raised officers' plateau, he could take in the whole breadth of the bustling arena.
Crimson and sapphire pennants snapped in the brisk morning breeze, signifying the tents of the various participating academies' teams. The regal golden eagle crest flew highest above all others, denoting their own prestigious Academy encampment.
Interspersed between the colorful tents, Vicente spied clusters of trees that magicians had transplanted straight from the Feywilds overnight. Silver-barked and emerald leaved, their thick branches provided cooling shade from the summer sun for teams and spectators alike.
His gaze lifted to marvel at the series of expansive aerial arenas floating ethereally twenty meters off the ground. Shimmering bands of magical force emanated from twin obelisks on either side, suspending the massive dueling platforms safely in midair away from the milling crowds below. Vicente watched as red-robed wizards conducted their final stability checks before opening the levitating pits to dauntless competitors.
All across the sprawling temporary village erected for the tournament, Vicente marked the diligent preparations underway. Armored sentries patrolled at regular intervals, ever alert to signs of trouble. Behind the security checkpoints, vendors hauled carts laden with roasted meats, fresh fruits and steaming sweet cakes to tempt hungry attendees. Princely ushers guided nobility between luxurious striped pavilions equipped with cushioned recliners for optimal event viewing.
Despite the ostentatious display of wealth and power stretched before him, Vicente noted every alley and potential blind spot with a tactical eye. Crowds meant distractions for potential assassins to exploit. And Nathair could be lurking anywhere unseen...
Vicente shook off the ominous thought before it could take root. With two army battalions at his command and Timis' covert "Observers" doubtless circling invisibly as well, they must be prepared for any plots the veteran spymaster might weave from the shadows. Satisfied he had accounted for all foreseeable threats, Vicente strode forth issuing orders into the organized chaos. Soon enough they would commence the tournament with Prince Edward himself topping the guest box - exposure left no more time for doubts. All present duties called for a vigilant knight in full.
Ser Vicente deftly mounted his armored destrier and spurred the beast into a brisk gallop towards the forest edge. The staccato of cantering hooves soon was muffled by dense foliage as shadowed boughs closed overhead. Maintaining one hand firm on the reins, Vicente carefully withdrew a silver token etched with arcane symbols from his surcoat with the other.
Still astride the thundering steed as dappled sunlight faded behind distant trunks, Vicente pricked his thumb on the coin's needle-sharp edge. He allowed three crimson droplets to spatter onto the etched surface, which instantly began to smolder with building magical energy.
Suddenly, while barely slowing his breakneck forest pace, Vicente felt reality lurch around him. Searing ruby rays burst from the magic coin clasped tight in his grip. They blazed streams through the weaving trees, burning open a swirling inter-dimensional portal directly across the knight's wild trajectory.
With an abrupt burst of acceleration, Ser Vicente drove his destrier straight at the shimmering rent suspended amidst the trunks. Horse and rider slipped into the mystical gateway in a breath, transported leagues in an instant beyond the forest's edge.
Emerging from the mystical portal atop the icy mountain peak, Ser Vicente wasted no time. He spurred his stallion onward, its hooves thundering across the snow-covered terrain as they descended into the abandoned city below. Once a bustling hub of activity, the city now lay in ruins, its streets empty and its buildings dilapidated.
As he rode through the desolate streets, the sound of his horse's hoofbeats echoed off the decrepit structures, a haunting reminder of the city's former glory. Ser Vicente's gaze remained fixed ahead, his determination unyielding as he made his way towards the city square.
The knight dismounted with practiced grace approaching the crumbling tavern at its heart, he urged his mount forward. The nondescript wooden door creaked open as he drew near. Stepping inside, Ser Vicente found himself in a dimly lit interior, illuminated only by flickering candles.
In the center of the room, a handful of armed men stood, their weapons at the ready. At their center stood one figure, commanding and authoritative amidst the shadows. Ser Vicente's eyes narrowed as he recognized the central figure.
He swiftly dropping to one knee before the man who presided over the dim gathering. Despite the musty surroundings, the knight's cloak bore fine ermine trim, a testament to his station.
"Your Highness," Vicente addressed him with utmost formality. "The encampment for the tournament reports all preparations complete. The assembled crowds eagerly await your opening remarks before the competitions commences."
Prince Edward raised his head slowly, his emerald eyes gleaming as they mirrored the flickering flames of the struggling tavern. "The board is set at last. Now, let us see if any within my audience dare to stir up trouble," he declared, a cold smile tugging at his lips as he stood tall over Vicente's kneeling form.
"But they shall find that the throne is now surrounded by hidden daggers, eager to draw royal blood," the prince continued, his voice carrying a chilling edge. "Yes, let the games begin."
========================================================================
"Seriously, how much longer do we have to wait for this speech to start? I'm getting tired of just sitting here," Zal grumbled to Jay. The pair sat inside the arena, which had opened its doors only a few hours earlier. They were among the many people filling the stands, all gathered to hear the future king's address.
"Tell me about it," Jay replied with a sigh, adjusting his position in his seat beside Zal. The arena was bustling with anticipation, the stands filled with eager spectators awaiting the future king's speech. "I suppose they want to make a grand entrance or something. Hopefully, it won't be much longer."
Finally, a thunderous horn blast announced the royal delegation's impending arrival. All eyes turned skyward to the magnificent airship emerging from behind dancing clouds, crimson sails catching the sunlight. The ornate vessel bore the Sauveterre crest upon its polished hull as it sailed gracefully towards the arena complex.
"Looks like Prince Edward refused a subtle entrance," Jay commented wryly. The ostentatious display seemed precisely the newly crowned prince's style - already he had gained a reputation for extravagance.
People leaned upon parapets and crowded platforms for a glimpse as the glittering airship glided overhead. With a resounding boom, its gangplank lowered to the spire adjoining the competition colosseum. Moments later, the herald's voice rang out introducing Prince Edward Sauveterre's dramatic appearance.
As the prince himself strode into view before the masses in full regalia, his rich azure cloak spilling down marble steps, Jay couldn't suppress another grin. "Well, I suppose it's not every day your kingdom receives a new ruler. At least he understands the people expect a proper pageant."
Beside him, Zal just rolled his eyes tolerantly. "Oh yes, all hail Prince Fancy Pants if it means we finally get this show underway!"
A roar erupted from the packed stadium as Prince Edward strode regally along the high balcony, his azure cloak embroidered with intricate patterns billowing behind him. With a smile and a wave, he acknowledged the adoring crowds, exuding an air of poised nobility.
Ascending the carpeted steps to the royal box adorned with Caitan banners, Edward paused to offer a gracious nod to the academy dignitaries already seated. Finally, the herald formally presented the new heir as he ascended before his subjects. Applause washed over the arena as Edward approached the carved lectern, holding a ceremonial scepter symbolizing his newfound rule.
"People of Caito, esteemed guests, and valiant tournament challengers," his commanding voice boomed, amplified by air magic, "I, Edward Sauveterre, extend to you the most humble of welcomes on this historic day!"
Another wave of cheers and jubilant shouts greeted his introduction. Edward allowed the enthusiastic display to continue before raising a hand to signal for quiet. "We stand at the dawn of a new era for our great nation," he continued earnestly. "Under my guidance, we will embark upon a path of prosperity, carrying forward the legacy of my father..."
As the prince elaborated on matters of security, opportunities for the citizenry, and ambitious visions for the kingdom's future, Jay listened with measured skepticism from the bustling stands. Though the usual lofty political rhetoric filled the air, Jay remained discerning in his evaluation.
Towards the end of his speech, Prince Edward turned his attention to the ongoing conflict with the kingdom of Lothria. With a solemn and determined tone, he spoke of the sacrifices made by their soldiers and emphasized the necessity for decisive action to achieve peace.
"In light of the continued war with Lothria," Edward declared, his voice carrying a weight of resolve, "I have made a decision. It is with great honor and trust that I appoint my courageous older brother, Prince Leonard, as Commander-in-Chief of our forces in this conflict."