Everyone left.

No more princesses', a dainty sight from above for all to admire and adore, their golden-coated thrones were laid bare and empty. The halls were also now empty of a crowd to echo their cheers and jeers within its vast, cavernous walls.

Everybody, save for a select few individuals that stood side by side one another in an orderly fashion, the chosen few soldiers bearing the shimmering colored crest on either their shoulder or their chest.

As to why we remained, while most everyone else gets to go, well that answer's a simple one -

We were being prepped.

"So, alright, guys and gals," marched Tyler up and down inches from us, his nose in the air along with a drill sergeant's gaze. "If anybody's here allergic to horses, you best bet you better raise your hand up now. No one's dying on me today."

There was a stillness among us champions, nobody backed out, nobody raised their hands.

"No? Going once? Twice? Alright, your chance is gone, don't regret this now," He said eagerly, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "So, I bet you guys already know what we got planned for you all, but just in case you don't - better listen up now, cause time's a wastin and I hate repeating myself."

So as from what I gather trying to hear beyond his weird hippie internet slang shit, apparently, we were partaking in trials based around the seven creeds of what it takes to be a knight of Astra, and each trial would test our due diligence to see if we are able to uphold these sacred creeds ourselves.

Pretty cool. So what's that got to do with carriage racing? Well -

"Persistence and Poignant-ent!" Tyler exclaimed with a smile and a flourishing finger, before he frowned and retracted that finger. "Wait, is it poignant-entes or professional? Whatever - anyway, we're gonna see if you all have these two qualities in you, and in order to do so we - "

Divided us into pairs, it seems.

Each carriage would have a team of two taking the reins, one hailing from Ash's camp, the other from Amanda's… from here it could be either-or, but no matter what, one has to take the role of the driver, while the other plays the defender.

All for the purpose of what, exactly?

Tyler went on to explain. "Cargo. You guys will be hauling a lot of very precious, very fragile cargo in the back of your carriage. I won't say what it is though, you'll just have to see for yourself. Now, It is not uncommon for knights to be transporting royal shit from here to there, and it is also not uncommon for these transport runs to be ambushed by the occasional bandit group every now and then, right?

"So, that's the gist of it. The team that can reach the finish line the fastest while also sustaining the least amount of damage to their goods would be declared a-okay! Judges' discretion, of course. So fingers crossed they like what you're packing by the end of your run. The two teams that score the lowest are out of the challenge for good, so keep your balls about you, alright?"

When his explanation ended, the questions began, sprouting up at once from a raised hand all the way to the far left.

"Big guy over there!" Tyler shot an arm to him. "Got something to say?"

Nick lowered his hand, his gaze a heeding one. "You mention a defender. What are we defending against exactly?"

"The other teams, duh!" The drill sergeant responded, skewing his brows all amused like it was the most obvious thing ever. "Think you're all gonna be honorable knights here, no! This is fast and furious! Aside from the occasional obstacle on the tracks, you are all gonna be each other's bandits! You'll find some useful tools in your carriage, you're allowed to use them to damage the cargo of your opponents but you're not allowed to use them directly against your opponent- no! Shit can be dangerous, you do it, you're out for good too, I ain't playing. We'll be watching close."

Another raised of the hand, lingering up high to the far right this time.

"Ah, Golden Boy, long time no see, alright," Tyler nudged his head at him. "What's your question?"

Leon crossed an arm, the other stroking at his chin absentmindedly, "How are these teams decided? At random? Do we choose? I feel as if you should elaborate further on this, Tyler. A host has got to do his job properly, right?"

I could almost feel the smugness emanating from where I stood… the hero of the land, always ensuring things are prim and proper. Supposedly, he should be commended for it. I just wanna roll my eyes at it.

"Ey, don't question my strats, mate. I do what I do cause I do them the way I wanna do them, you understand? I'll fight you," Tyler cocked his head, a warning glance his way. "But yeah, good point actually, thanks for that. So - ahem - no, you don't get to choose. It's already decided. I got a list somewhere in my pockets that'll get you sorted out to your teams, in the meantime… anymore questionnaireseses?"

Just one more, apparently. A lone hand slowly rising had snapped his gaze immediately dead center, curling his lips wide in delight at the very sight of it.

"Yes, big man…" Tyler inched forward, throwing his head back rather complacently. "What do you have for us?"

I lowered my arm straight back down, glancing briefly both left and right, before saying, "Paired into teams of two, you mentioned… right?"

He nodded. "Right."

"Well, that'll be no problem if you got twenty-four people, you'll have an even number of teams."

"I don't math good, but…" He nodded again, smiling even wider this time. "I guess so, yeah."

"You have twenty-five people here, Tyler."

A final nod, the widest smile.

"I'm the odd one out," I said. "I'm on my own on this, aren't I? No team, just me. Defending and driving."

"Well, that's what happens, big man," He said, shrugging, gazing sympathetically. "You're fighting for both sides here. It's kind of a given that you're gonna have to give double the effort too. You'll be working overtime in every one of the games… that's just what your special participation calls for, my guy."

"I see…"

Tyler raised a brow. "That gonna be a problem, man?"

"No, no problem," I shook my head, fell back in line. "Just making sure is all."

"Alrighty, then… if you say so," After a long quiet stare filled with intrigue at my face, Tyler finally broke away and addressed the others. "Anyone else? Going once, going twice, thrice - gone!"

He clapped his hands, sounding a reverberating echo. "Whoo, alright! Shit, this is a headache…"

You're telling me...

"You all can leave now outside, by the way," Both his hands started shooing us out of formation, as he continued to speak, "There'll be, uh, carriages I think, ready to bring you all to the starting location. Pick one to get on, then in a while, we'll see each other again. I'll meet ya'll there up on the announcer's stage alright? Good luck!"

And with that, Tyler, alongside the rest of us, finally vacated the barren chamber of the clocktower, departing through the great double doors once more.

It's been so long since I've seen the outside, I could barely even remember what the rest of the town even looked like anymore. After an eternity of only seeing polished walls and gleaming floors, I was more than eager to welcome the sight of dry wood and hard cobble once more.

"What in the…"

That's not what ended up being my welcoming back sight though.

I know I'm scatterbrain sometimes, I'm aware I forget stuff too quick too - but even so, I doubt I could have missed seeing a giant fucking spotlight in the sky when we first got here. There was no way I didn't notice that beforehand.

Now it was just there - way up there. Like some 21st century Eye of Sauron or something, its all-seeing gaze encompassing us all in its bright light.

There's not just one spotlight too, multiple of them… hanging high like radio towers soaring higher than any of the buildings around. It was like the entire township had suddenly turned into one big stage, one big act… and we were the players putting up a performance of a lifetime.

Guess we better not disappoint.

Y'know I'm pretty sure Asteria didn't have a giant shining spotlight yet in the year 5321 A.E. or whatever the hell shit time period this place was set in… even less for the giant goddamn LCD panels hanging high up from the ceiling rolling real-time footage of us champions exiting the premises and staring up in awe at the sudden change in scenery.

A mishmash of the medieval and the modern… actually, putting the immersion-breaking, canon-straying implications aside, it honestly made for a pretty cool setting.

Fantasy meets reality, what do you call that?

Cybermyth Punk?

I like it.

The creak of wheels stopping abrupt, and the sound of hooves hitting stone, drew my attention back to the foreground, where a line of equally extravagant carriages awaited us, complete with its own swinging set of doors, and fancily-dressed drivers taking the reins up front.

Ah yes, royal carriages.

The quaint humble limousines of ye olden times.

If they actually went out of their way to prepare transportation for us, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say we were in for a long ride across town.

Oh well, the silver lining is that I get to think more of the upcoming task ahead… and what my play exactly was in order to win this thing. I'll be fighting alone, and by the sound of it, I'll continue to be fighting alone even then after.

Luckily, I've ridden horses before.

Luckily, I've ridden carriages before.

Not too shabby too, if I do say so myself.

It seems living early life as a country boy does have its perks in the modern world.

Welp, let's go find out and see if I still got it, after all.