Crow was less comfortable than he’d been in quite some time, and it was through no fault of the Sieve’s organisers or staff. Or rather, no fault of most of them.

The seat on which he sat was extremely soft, almost bouncy, and the moment he’d taken it he had been met with a servant asking him whether he would like a drink. Absent-mindedly, Crow had responded by asking for a morshash. He’d had one only once before in his life, and could still remember the exquisite sweetness of the creamy, frothy beverage. Halfway between cow’s milk and caramel in thickness. The reason for his only ever having one was because, even though the Tempora family was among the wealthiest in Selsis, it was frankly too expensive to enjoy on the regular- and difficult enough to brew that they could only even find it in the nearby cities.

In hindsight, the fact that he was sitting in a structure tenfold larger than any other he’d ever seen before, and that he was being offered a drink on the budget of the very people who had built it, should have made it quite obvious to Crow before hand that something as simple as an expensive treat would be easily done. Certainly, he wasn’t surprised to find it tasted just as good- if not better than- the last time he’d enjoyed it.

And yet enjoying it now was proving to be far more difficult than he could have expected.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ll be at the forefront, why wouldn’t I? I gathered our team together. I found every single one of our members, except for you. At best, you found us.”

He glanced at Astra, the source of the irritated proclamation. Crow hadn’t been able to bring himself to speak to her in the twenty minutes since they were moved to the waiting room with the rest of their team, she hadn’t attempted to speak to him either. He could understand that, of course. He’d even understand if she chose never to speak to him again, as dramatic as it may have been. That didn’t soften the blow in the slightest, though.

“Why wouldn’t you be the leader? Uh, how about because nobody knows or cares who you are? I’m the Gemini, I’m the most magically talented prodigy ever. You’re just some bimbo from the middle of nowhere who was slightly better at magic than everyone else in your village.”

Crow would have been shocked to hear such things from Gem’s mouth, however the last few minutes had acclimated him to her vulgar side. More shocking was the sight of her previously marble-smooth and ivory-pale skin flushed with anger and indignation, her eyes glistening with moisture as annoyed tears built in them. She seemed to wear rage a lot more obviously than she did her other emotions.

Glancing at Astra, he couldn’t help but feel a sudden surge of respect for Gem- he’d never been able to stand up to his sister once she got as furious as she was now, and yet they’d been exchanging barbs for the better part of fifteen minutes.

The two girls clamped up for a moment, staring at each other with silent hatred. The lack of any noise from either of them made it quite obvious to Crow when a light snickering rose up. He turned his head to Unity, not remotely surprised to see the boy was entirely amused with the situation.

“Women, am I right?”

Crow did not think he was, in fact, right- and even if he had, he would not have been such a fool to admit it when Unity’s words had been so clearly spoken to the entire room. Astra and Gem shifted their stares to him, affixing him with a gaze which would burrow through stone. After a few moments, both of them tightened their jaws and turned away- apparently satisfied to cease arguing. Of course they had done so twice already, so Crow was entirely certain that a fourth bout was a matter of when rather than if.

“Uh, can I make a suggestion?” Asked Xeno. The tiny girl resembled a small rodent to Crow, with how she had practically stuffed herself away in one of the room’s corners while the screaming match unfolded around her. Not seeing anyone else speak up, he answered her.

“Sure.”

“We’re all arguing over who’s going to be team leader, an-”

Unity interrupted almost lazily.

“We aren’t arguing over anything, it’s only the mastermind and the walking-talking saviour complex who can’t decide which one of us is in charge.” He pointed to Gem and Astra respectively, eliciting yet more searing stares from each of them which may well have killed a lesser man. Unity’s only reaction was to grin as Xeno continued talking, looking slightly disgruntled at being interrupted.

“As I was saying,” she waveringly managed, “there’s no need for any arguments to be had at all- we don’t need a team leader.”

Gem answered first, with Astra’s reply following a fraction of a second later.

“What are you talking about?”

“Of course we do!”

Impressively, Xeno remained cool in the face of yet another intrusion on her sentence.

“No,” she calmly explained. “We actually do not need a team leader, in fact technically speaking the role of team leader hasn’t existed in any Sieve to date- at least not officially. Both of you have been arguing over quite literally nothing.”

A pause answered her words, followed by an indignant huff from Gem and a sigh of irritation from Astra. Unity grinned, but made no sound to draw any attention- Crow thought that was likely a good thing, there was a good chance he'd’ have been severely injured if he’d said anything particularly Unity-like.

Crow took another sip of his morshash, finding it suddenly far more sweet on his tongue with the absence of arguing right next to him. He realised only then how tense he’d been before. The party, the trip in the carriage- even just talking to Gem, as friendly as she had been. He felt a wondrous weariness overcome him, and for just a moment allowed himself to relax.

His state of bliss lasted only until the door to the waiting room opened with a creak, Crow looked across to see an unfamiliar figure. A woman perhaps a half decade older than him, with short brown hair and a uniform which looked altogether different from that of the Knights- all flowing, loose fitting fabrics. Her face was as still as a frozen lake, and it was only when she spoke with a bizarre and foreign accent that Crow noticed her Olympian-bronze skin.

“Greetings, my name is Pyrhic. I am the attendant of Lady Alabaster, acting on her behalf. The orientation will begin in five minutes, are you all ready?”

A great stillness met her words, broken first by Gem.

“We are, are you going to be leading us there?”

The woman nodded, then stepped to one side and gestured in a sweeping motion in front of herself.

“If you are ready, please follow me.”

Gem answered by making her way across the room, and Crow found himself doing the same- a glance around revealed that he was not alone. Just as Gem, the furthest ahead of them, came to within five paces, the woman named Pyrhic turned and left the room.

***

Karma pressed the edge of the glass to her lips and tipped her head back, pouring its alcoholic contents into herself. She felt the atlantif slosh over her tongue and teeth, savouring the familiar sizzling of her nerves as the intoxicant stung them in passing. She gulped it down, setting the container to one side and closing her eyes for a moment while she waited to feel her drink’s effects.

Despite her foreign reputation as a booze-chugging warrior princess, she really didn’t care for alcohol. Or rather, she found the effects it had on her mind to be far more concerning than they were relaxing. Nonetheless, whenever she was speaking in front of a crowd as large as the one waiting for her that moment, she’d allow herself just a thimble’s worth. Enough to take the nervous edge off, but not enough to take the entirely vital edges along with it.

It was still a bad habit, and one she’d been indulging for far too long, but Karma reasoned that if twelve hours of administrative work, trading barbs with Immortals and being ogled by every other pair of eyes in the civilised world didn’t earn someone a bad habit, nothing would.

A knock came upon her door, and she turned to it- engaging the ability she had developed for seeing through objects and taking a look at the one standing on the other side. It was one of the Unixian Alliance’s attendants, a short and fat man with a wiry moustache who wore their uniform the way only one who had gone far too many days without a promotion would. It seemed her presence was needed.

Karma got to her feet with a groan, casting a scrutinous eye over her attire. The shin-length gown she wore was called a geghan-kei, it wasn’t something most in Dewlz would expect to see worn by any but a full-fledged Immortal. Karma had chosen it for that very reason. To the people of Bermuda, it was nothing more than a dress of silvered silk. On the continent of Dewlz, Olympus especially, it turned Karma’s very appearance into a scornful challenge.

She considered for a moment whether her recent interactions with Bermudan Immortals had made her too irate for her own good. The thought was banished from her almost as quickly, she had more pressing concerns.

Opening the door just as a second round of knocking started, Karma wore her best smile as she addressed the attendant.

“Yes?”

The man faltered slightly before speaking.

“Lady Alabaster, the orientation is about to begin. I’m here to lead you on your way, not that you probably need it, it’s just-”

Raising a hand and keeping her true emotions hidden behind her mask of pleasantry, Karma gently interrupted him.

“Of course, thank you for your help. I’ll follow after you.”

Swallowing and nodding seriously, the man turned on his heel and began dutifully marching. Of course Karma knew which way the orientation was, as had she known when it would start, however pointing out either fact may have embarrassed the man.

Nobody wanted to feel useless, least of all those who had already been stagnant in their careers for some time. It often paid to keep one’s reputation positive across all levels of a city, from its king to its rats.

The straightness of the attendant’s back and the gait of his movement told Karma all she needed to know about the success of her act, and she couldn’t help but feel some small measure of satisfaction. As they neared the exit leading out onto the stage, she felt her joyful pride begin to taper off- replaced by the weary dread which came at an oncoming crowd. She felt herself become vividly aware of how covered up her backside and breasts were, as if the thousands of revolting gazes had already been affixed to them.

They turned a corner, and the man stopped walking- looking back at Karma.

“Lady Alabaster, the stage is at the end of this hallway.”

Karma smiled once more and thanked him before setting off on her own.

***

Crow’s nerves seemed to grow more frayed with each step he took. His anxiety was such that even knowing he would take only one fifth of the crowd’s attention did little to reduce its severity. Even Gem’s presence and expertise with the exact situation they were walking into was little more than seasoning on a rock.

He hadn’t thought he could possibly begin to feel any worse, but as the stadium’s muffled noise suddenly intensified to a sharp ruckus, it almost sent his dinner crawling free of his throat.

“Sounds like the jewels of Olympus have finally made their way out onto the stage”, Unity remarked. There was no answer to his words, save for the sharp clapping of boot-leather against the stone floor. After a few moments, he spoke again.

“Jewels of Olympus, guys. We all know who they are, don’t we?”

This time, Unity received a response.

“Ignore him”, Gem half-sighed. “He’s talking about Karma’s tits.”

Pyrhic stiffened up as Gem said that, and for a second Crow thought she might say something. She didn’t, and the walk remained as silent as ever.

***

The crowd grew from annoying to outright obnoxious the moment Karma Alabaster walked out into the stadium. It was as if she were dragging a cart containing the cure for magical ineptitude behind her, such was the uproar.

Chaths couldn’t help but wish Bermuda were just a little bit smaller, so that his ears would be just a little bit less tortured. As if in direct response to his thoughts, the noise was suddenly dulled somewhat. For a moment he wondered if his ears had suddenly become blocked, however he immediately realised the real cause- turning to Ra and seeing the Demigod wink at him smugly.

For all their world-shaking power, the thing Chaths found most extraordinary about Immortals was the number of minor powers they accumulated. He wasn’t sure whether it was because having as much potency as they did made using some of it for smaller abilities less of a weakness, or simply that their longevity gave the chance to master an abundance of spells. Perhaps both.

As suffocated as the outside world’s voice was, the Princess of Olympus still reached Chaths’ ears as though she were speaking directly into them. That was thanks to their room containing magical relays designed to carry her voice to them regardless of the distance, just as the screen through which they watched magnified her distant form enough for him to make out such details as the texture of her dress- or the far more captivating sight of her cleavage.

“Don’t trust that one.”

Ra mumbled- almost lazily. Chaths glanced at his teacher only to be met with a knowing gaze, not far removed from the one he often received when enjoying the wrong kind of scenery.

“Beauty that comes from a mask is like unto a light in the dark, blinding you when you most need to see.”

Chaths turned back to the Princess, not bothering to answer the Demigod. The issue with his teacher was that it was extraordinarily difficult to tell when he was giving genuine advice, and when he was just saying things to sound mystical and cool. In either case the man would insist on wrapping up his every word with anachronistic, flowery language.

“WELCOME TO THE THIRD STAGE OF THE SIEVE!”

Cried the Princess, her voice wavering less than Singularity architecture in spite of her volume. She was answered with a wave of roaring cheers, it was impressive how well she could work a crowd- or rather, terrifying. Alabaster had spent the last five years of her life modelling herself to be the figurehead of Olympus, and she’d made herself more popular among Unix even than most Unixians of fame.

“IN JUST A MOMENT, YOU’LL GET TO MEET THE TEAM WHICH CAME FIRST IN THE LAST STAGE- AS WELL AS FIND OUT THEIR CHOSEN NAME BEFORE ANY OTHERS. AS EXCITED AS I AM, I’LL NEED TO BORE YOU WITH THE RULES AND DETAILS FOR A FEW MINUTES FIRST.”

Chaths wondered briefly if magic was responsible for the way the crowd responded to her every word, it seemed as though she entertained them just by speaking. He dismissed the idea almost as quickly as it had come. No Gladiator could influence so many hundreds of thousands of people simultaneously, such magic as that was the realm of the Immortals- and to do so to a crowd made up largely of mystics was unthinkable for all but the strongest. The Deities, whose might rendered even Ra’s a triviality by comparison.

Nonetheless, there was a certain way she carried herself. Her every movement sending her long gown flowing, her hands reaching out as though she were gesturing for an entire stadium to keep a secret for her- equal parts mischievous, energetic and controlled. Magic may well have been the best word for it after all.

“FIRSTLY, YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED SOME COMPETITORS STARTING THE SECOND STAGE WITH LIMBS ATTACHED THAT HADN’T BEEN AS THEY EXITED THE FIRST.”

The woman paused just in time to avoid having her voice smothered by the cascade of light laughter, such was the abundance of audience members that even a light chuckle from every one in ten made a sound which was virtually impossible to talk over.

“THE REASON FOR THIS WAS BECAUSE, AS YOU WERE ALREADY TOLD, MAGICALLY-AIDED MEDICAL TREATMENT WAS FREELY AVAILABLE TO ALL WHO SUCCESSFULLY MADE IT THROUGH. HOWEVER, THAT IS NO LONGER THE CASE. FROM THIS POINT ONWARDS, ANY CONTESTANTS WHO WISH TO RECEIVE ANY KIND OF RESTORATIVE TREATMENT MUST PURCHASE IT THEMSELVES BY SPENDING CREDITS EARNED DURING THE SIEVE ITSELF.”

The masses of people occupying the rest of the stadium seemed to derive no small amount of excitement from the announcement, but Chaths found himself far too busy trying to explore all the ways it would change things. None of the previous Sieves had used a rule like that, though they’d all had some way of forcing contestants to struggle if they wanted to hoard credits. Given that the purpose of the event was to weed out the magically talented rather than the rich, he found it hard to believe there’d be any way of getting medicinal supplies from external sources… He needed more information.

“THE SECOND CHANGE IS ONE WHICH IS QUITE COMMON IN THE SIEVE, THE CONTESTANTS WILL ALL BE MOVED TO THE BUILDING, WITH EACH OF THEM STAYING AT THE CRUX, THE SAME BUILDING AS THE SIEVE’S ORGANISERS, MYSELF INCLUDED. ADDITIONALLY, NO CONTESTANTS WILL BE ALLOWED TO MAKE USE OF EQUIPMENT NOT PURCHASED USING THEIR CREDITS- ATTEMPTING TO DO SO WILL BE CONSIDERED FORFEITURE FROM THE EVENT. THIS INCLUDES WEAPONRY, ARMAMENTS AND MEDICAL TREATMENT.”

She paused, letting her words settle for just a moment- then continued speaking almost hurriedly.

“NOW WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE TO THE LEADING TEAM OF THIS YEAR’S SIEVE!”

Chaths drowned the cheering out with his mind, far too focused on thinking to take note of such trivialities. It seemed he’d been right about there being a way to even the playing field between the rich and the poor, and what was more- it had been done in a most Olympian way. Denying children medical attention on pain of disqualification, he had a hard time imagining Karma Alabaster wasn’t responsible for that.

For all his annoying metaphors, Ra had been right about one thing. Her pretty face didn’t make her any less an Olympian nationalist, and if she’d swallowed all of her nation’s dogma then it would only be expected for her to watch people die and dismiss it as natural selection. Even if she hadn’t, she was working for an empire that would.

Just as Chaths felt a new appreciation for Alabaster’s act, he felt all thoughts dashed from his mind as the magnified sight of the winning team stepping out onto the stage reached his eyes. A grin split his lips.

Crow looked even more nervous than he had in their fight.

***

Karma often told Gem to keep an eye on other people’s faces when something important was happening. “A person’s immediate reaction to receiving vital information was among the few ways to truly tell what their plans were”, she would say. It was pure luck that Gem had been doing just that when she announced the prospect of a team name.

Crow seemed fairly uncaring, but then he hadn’t seemed remotely surprised at the notion of someone else being team leader- whether it was Gem or his sister. Unity Eden was more sinister, an unsettlingly wide grin stretching across his face the moment he heard mention of team names. Astra Tempora’s expression was practically identical to the one she’d had when Gem had completely fairly announced her own position as leader, the bitch.

Xeno was unique in appearing completely, genuinely excited- not for any secret machination or chance to show off her own abilities, but simply at the idea of there being a name at all. The more time Gem spent around the fae, the more she liked her.

From the hallway, Karma’s artificially amplified voice was almost painful on their ears- the corridor channelling her every word down its length and sending it ripping through them like an assault. Even so, it was hard for Gem to take note of even that. She was used to crowds, and she was used to being stared at like a particularly valuable object, but to have as many eyes directly on her as she was about to was an entirely new experience.

It took a concerted effort for her not to giggle with excitement.

“NOW WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE TO THE LEADING TEAM OF THIS YEAR’S SIEVE!”

Even if Pyrhic hadn’t gestured for them to make their way down the hall and out into the stadium, Karma’s words would have been enough of a signal- or at least, Gem very much hoped they would. She was surprised to see Crow’s sister taking the lead in walking out, hurrying to catch up with the blonde so as to not let her get too full of herself.

It was a strange sensation to move through the corridor and towards the outside. Each step seemed to raise the volume of the waiting crowds, bringing them up to greater heights by the second. The air of the night was cold, and the stadium’s open top guaranteed that its interior was just as chilly, and yet Gem could feel herself begin to sweat- her body warmed by her eagerness to show herself to the world.

There would be no Gilasev shielding her from the limelight this time, nor was she merely present as a guest brought by Karma. She was the star, and she’d finally be recognised. Gem Menza, not merely a gemini of Gilasev- a person, and more importantly the next pinnacle of magic.

She felt her mouth begin to dry as they came within a few steps of the exit, and despite herself she glanced at Crow- seeing a mask of pure terror on the boy’s face. Even the previously stoic Astra seemed unsure of herself, though for some reason Gem felt absolutely no urge to mock the girl for it.

And just like that, they stepped out. Gem narrowed her eyes against the glare of several limelights, her vision adjusting quickly thanks to the many occasions on which it had been disoriented by far brighter magic blasts. The roaring of the crowd was such as to strike her like a physical wall, clearly dulled by the use of magic- yet somehow still clearly the product of an impossible number of voices.

They were standing on a stage, elevated ever so slightly above the ground and leading into the middle of the stadium. There was an indiscernible figure waiting at the end, and Gem realised only then how impossibly large the structure was- without a magical sheen to magnify the image, she couldn’t even recognise someone as familiar as Karma from half of its length away.

Suddenly the thought of walking to the end made Gem rather sick. Thoughts of tripping and stumbling swarmed her mind, and she felt bile rise in her throat knowing she’d be watched the entire time. But then Astra Tempora began to take another step forward, and she banished such worries from her mind to power on.