Felix refused to attend Lyra's funeral.

It was a simple but elegant affair, arranged four days after I discovered her body, with a respectable showing of mourners. I stood off to the side, hands clasped behind my back, unsure what I was supposed to do. To my relief no one approached me. The looks and pointing fingers did nothing to improve my mood. The jilted lover, they must have thought. The obsessed lunatic. Who else would do such a thing? Such a talented, beautiful young woman. What kind of monster...

The whole time I felt numb, detached. As if I were watching some tragic play for the hundredth time. I left before the ceremony ended. No one stopped me.

I did not wish to disrespect Lyra's spirit but I was beginning to think Felix had a point. I doubted her immortal soul was watching us from some perch in the clouds, deeply offended that I had no desire to stand there any longer, listening to a priest who never knew her sing her praises.

There was at least one more selfish reason I chose to leave: I felt naked without a sword by my side. It was my constant companion now, never farther than an arm's reach away. Mara had convinced me not to wear it to the funeral.

She wanted to attend as well but I insisted it was unnecessary. Those two had only met once and exchanged some pleasantries. Undaunted, Mara held a small ceremony in the acolyte's barracks, lighting incense and praying for her soul's safe passage. Felix refused to attend that as well.

I found him in his favorite clearing, working through the beginnings of the second legato. Unnoticed, I leaned against a tree, observing his halting attempts and mounting frustration. After losing his balance and stumbling a few steps he reached his limit; with all the fury he could muster he threw his sword side-hand across the clearing. His shoulders shook as he gasped for breath.

"The ceremony was awful," I said.

He spun on his heels. His face was flushed scarlet "Why kill Lyra? She never hurt another soul in her life. She was innocent, just playing the role life gave her."

Bad enough for the guards to pester me. Bad enough to weather all those glances at the funeral. Felix's words were like a knife in the gut.

I bit down my own anger. "That sounds like an accusation."

"Of course it's not an accusation," he said. "I've never even seen you upset. You're like a statue. None of this is your fault. There's nothing you could have done."

Emotion crept into my voice unbidden. "A statue? I've barely slept since I found her. I don't know how many baths I took to try and scrub that smell away. It's still there."

The anger drained from Felix's face. He walked over to his sword, brushed the snow off, and sheathed it. "She was the brightest little girl. A ball of energy. It's hard to watch the world strip that away. One day at a time, until she was no better than me. I'm sorry you had to find her like that.""

"It wasn't a human," I said. "No human kills like that. It tore her apart. All the paintings were gone. What does that?"

"You know what does that."

Yes. I knew. "There was a demon at Amelie in Yellow. You remember when the Karystans joined us the other night and I left all the sudden? It looked like a woman with black eyes. I chased her down but she just vanished. Like she was never there."

Felix took a deep, shuddering breath. "You think the same one killed Lyra? Of course it did. How many of them can there be, running around in this city? I'm guessing you went to the authorities?"

"I told the North Wind. Maybe a few hours before I found her corpse. At first I thought it was revenge but...the body was too old. She must've been there for days. I waited three days to tell them. What if I went straight to them? She could still be alive. How can you say it's not my fault?"

Felix stomped toward me, face blank. Lost in my own self-pity, I never saw his fist coming until it connected with my nose. Warm blood tickled my upper lip. Blackness crept into the corners of my vision. Instinctually I reached for him, binding him in my grasp, and with a savage glee smashed my forehead into his face.

We spent the next minute brawling in the snow, tripping over each other, pawing at clothes and exposed flesh. At some point Felix remembered some technique and threw me over his shoulder. The snow made the impact annoyingly soft.

I scrambled back to my feet, managed to deflect a wild punch on my forearm. We grappled for a while before finally breaking away, bent over and panting, our bloody noses speckling the snow red.

I managed to speak between gasps. "What was that?"

"You feel better, don't you?"

"Maybe." I sat down with my back against a tree and closed my eyes. "There's something wrong with this city. We should leave."

Felix paused a moment before responding. "I still have so much to do here. The Games are in a few days."

"You can tell there's something wrong, can't you?" I wiped my bloody nose on my sleeve. "With our talents we can go anywhere. Money's no problem. If you want to remain a philosopher, we can transfer to another sect."

"No," he said. "I've been here my whole life. This is my city. Even if demons are roaming around. If they are brazen enough to come here, where can we safely go? Velassa? I could never live there."

I opened my eyes.

Felix stood with his fists clenched at his sides, face serious. "You can go. I won't blame you. But I'm staying. And I'm going to find the bastard who did that to Lyra."

All I could do was nod.

***

I spent the rest of that day wandering through the city aimlessly. Felix wanted to join me and I was tempted, but I was still loathe to reveal my power and his presence wouldn't accomplish much. A few times I used my magic to interrogate random people---the woman behind the counter of an occult trinket shop, Lakken, some nobleman rumored to specialize in demonology. Nothing.

I sought Champion Jokul but he was not an easy man to track down; after a couple hours I resigned myself to waiting to hear from him.

My failure weighed on me. I excused myself from attending any lessons or sparring with Felix. He trained with the Karystans instead, claiming he was more than happy to practice against the spear. Mara kept pestering me to stop laying around and staring at the same pages of my book. I should have been searching for the demon but it felt as if a crushing weight held me in place.

When the day of Games arrived I agreed to attend. Strangely this one was held in the evening, something of a novelty. I spent all day scrounging up the motivation.

Mara barged into the barracks long before the opening ceremony. Like a child she leapt onto my cot, balancing herself on her knees, and bounced in place until I stood up.

Grumbling, I started putting on my boots. “Felix doesn’t fight for another two hours.”

“Yes, but we have to be there early to encourage him!” said Mara.

I slipped on my fur cloak and we headed outside. Caedius leaned against the side of the building, arms crossed, his attempt to look imposing ruined by the smile stretching across his face. The man had probably never missed a Game since he was born. He loved to tell the story about his parents buying seats in the very front for his sixth birthday. Always a heartwarming tale.

“I think you’re more excited about this than Felix is,” Mara said to him.

He swooped over and lifted her up by her armpits, twirling her around until she laughed and swatted at him. Once she was back on the ground Caedius slipped an arm around her shoulders. Watching them only deepened my self-pity, but I would not let my moping ruin everyone else's mood.

“This will be different,” he said. “They never have the Games at night. They must have something special planned.”

Mara wrinkled her nose. “Lucky us.”

As we walked into the city proper he rambled about the history of the Amphitheater.

“The great architect Van Rijn envisioned it three hundred and forty years ago and it has remained unchanged to this day. The Odenan Amphitheater was one of several historic buildings to suffer massive damage in the Great Fire. A collective effort of all the people in the city restored it to perfection within six months.”

Mara patted his shoulder “Very nice. You’re awfully quiet, Leones.”

"Yeah," I said. She took the hint and dropped the conversation. At least it was better than the awkward condolences everyone offered before.

Once we exited the Gardens I hailed a coach to take us the rest of the way. Caedius continued to ramble the entire ride, the passion in his voice the only thing saving him from being annoying. I only really paid attention when he brought up the North Wind.

“Barrow is the host tonight. He's one of the most famous combatants to come out of the Odenan Amphitheater in recent times. No one was surprised to see a half-divine child succeed. The surprising thing is that witnesses say he never used any of his powers. Felix is a prodigy with the blade, granted, but they say Barrow was fighting on the Frontier when he was only thirteen years old.”

Traffic became congested as we neared the Amphitheater. I told the driver we would continue on foot.

The massive edifice loomed over this part of the city, nearly a district itself. It reminded me of an elaborate seashell, roughly oval in shape, the tiered rows of seating like ridges along its interior. A sailcloth awning shielded the crowd from the snow, a feat of engineering that Caedius was all too happy to explain.

Only a quarter of the seats were filled but the opening ceremony had yet to begin. Etiquette in Odena dictates that one should never arrive at formal events too early. I wished someone had explained that to Mara. Caedius at least had the good manners to purchase me a medicinal drink from a roadside vendor.

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve drank this,” he told me. “Powdered sweetbark mixed with honey wine. You’ll feel amazing in about an hour. Eliminates muscle fatigue and gives you a nice rush of energy. Don’t drink too much of it in one day or it destroys your liver. Ever see those old-time fighters with yellow skin? Too much of this.”

I put the wooden mug to my lips and muttered into it, “Increate bless me.”

After swallowing the concoction in several gulps I squeezed my eyes against the bitterness. It took several seconds to recover.

“You’re not supposed to drink it like someone challenged you to a race at the tavern,” said Caedius.

I wiped the residue off my tongue. “This is called sweetbark?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t name it.”

Caedius returned my mug and returned with one of his own, sipping it as if it were divine nectar. He motioned us to follow him before diving into the crowd at the entrance.

Guardsmen herded the mass of people into approximate lines. Vasely hosted the Games as a public service, ensuring that general seating was free. The wait was not long though the press of unwashed bodies made me grimace.

An old man reeking of alcohol stumbled into me. I pushed him in the direction of the nearest guard.

Mara shook her head. “Be gentle.”

I kept my thoughts to myself.

The beauty of the Amphitheater increased the farther we went. Ornate fountains spaced along the way promised refreshment. The noise of the crowd drowned out Caedius’ attempts to explain the origins of the various murals and statuary.

We emerged into the interior of the Amphitheater. On the far side figures scrambled about like colorful ants. Caedius’ awe of the building began to make more sense. There were thousands of people here, maybe tens of thousands, more than I had ever seen gathered in one place. I had read about much larger groups before but could never visualize the true scale of those numbers. So many people, each one a distinct soul with their own thoughts and feelings. It stole my breath away.

We found some decent seats in one of the middle tiers and settled in. Caedius nursed his mug of sweetbark between his hands, watching the crowd with the simple contentment of a grandfather at a large family gathering.

Mara sat between us. She drummed the fingers of one hand against her thigh. “Can’t we talk to Felix somehow?”

“I told you,” said Caedius, “there’s no way to see him before the fights. They’re kept in their own separate waiting area. They enter the battlefield from the Gates of Death and exit through the Gates of Life. We won’t be able to see him until he leaves.”

“Do you have to call it a battlefield?”

He shook his head. “You see this, Leones? I’ve been trying to get her to come to the Games as long as I’ve known her. She’s told me she wouldn’t come even if I myself fought but she’s here for Felix. Really makes you wonder.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” said Mara. “I wouldn’t come watch you because I don’t want to see you get killed.”

After the words left her mouth she realized her mistake and glanced my way. Caedius continued on, oblivious.

“There’s a better chance of getting murdered on the way here compared to dying in the arena.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

I kept my thoughts to myself. The stranger to my right watched us in amusement. After a few moments of pointed eye contact he looked away.

I had to admit I was just as nervous as Mara. There was the sheer presence of the crowd. The thought of my friend dying and, even worse in his own eyes, failing. On top of that I kept remembering the contempt my parents had for the Velassan Games, how my mother would shake her head anytime someone brought them up in conversation.

To my surprise four people in acolyte greys approached our seats. Rayez, Soren, and Johan followed a young woman, presumably Lisara. A braid of black hair fell to her lower back. Her light blue eyes and the blank expression on her face lent her a frigid appearance.

Johan towered over his companions. He waved. “May we join you?”

“Do you mind?” I asked the stranger next to me. He held his hands out in surrender and left to find another seat.

Mara and Caedius introduced themselves. The Karystans squeezed in between me and my next closest neighbor. Johan had to hunch over and lock his knees together to make room.

“How did you find us in this crowd?” said Mara.

“Lisara has amazing eyesight," said Johan. "She could probably read the lips of people on the other side of the stadium. Picking out your uniforms is easy. Not like me, I can’t see a dozen feet in front of me without my spectacles.”

Lisara lifted a hand in acknowledgement, not even bothering to glance in our direction.

Mara nudged me and rolled her eyes. I began to wonder if bringing these two groups together was a good call. It was hard to deny Johan’s company when he acted so friendly.

The opening ceremony rescued me. Lines of priests in gold robes emerged from each of the four entrances onto the sands of the arena. A highpriest led each procession, holding aloft a scepter with a flaming head; albino lions stalked next to them, searching the crowd with hostile pink eyes. The priest’s low chanting became discernible as the chatter of the crowd died off. The words were in Old Avanchean, an entirely different language spoken only by the clergy.

At the end of each line came one of the Four Winds: three men and a woman in green cloaks, faces hidden beneath their hoods.

The separate groups of priests joined together in the middle of the arena, forming a circle around the Four who joined their voices to the chanting. Wind swirled through the arena, gathering the sand into complex spirals that weaved amongst the priests without touching them.

The priests stopped chanting all at once and the swirls of sand disintegrated.

One of the Four threw back his hood. Barrow. “We have gathered on this sacred night to honor the strength of our city.”

Complete silence greeted his words.

“It is rare that we fight in the light of the moon. It is tradition not to attract the attention of our ancient enemies. This is a tradition of fear, something that has echoed in the hearts of mankind for millennia. They are the memories of our ancestors passed on to us. The unwritten story of our struggle for freedom against the Goetia. But it is time to supplant tradition and to make our ancestors proud. Tonight we show them we are strong.”

The crowd cheered, though there was an undercurrent of uncertainty.

“Tonight,” he continued, “we host a special Game in Odena. You have the option to leave at any time but there is no cause for alarm. The Four Winds are here to protect you, and there are others hidden among you. Tonight the warriors of Odena will face demons.”