The markets of the Premier Aristocracy’s districts were wonderful things, each stall full of eye-catching wares and brilliant colors. A dangerous edge hid underneath the wondrous facade, however. Career merchants were devious, swindling people, and those who said otherwise have only associated with the most bumbling of traders. Or at least, that was Ryu’s opinion as he spent his meager wealth on his adopted younger brother.

“You spoil him,” Jinn said, shaking his head. Itsuki ran between them, glancing at all the stalls with wide eyes. It was as if the boy was having trouble deciding on whether he wanted to be shy or curious, and as they passed the toy-filled windows of a shop, the latter seemed to win through.

“Dad, let’s go in there,” Itsuki said, his breath making clouds on the store’s glass window.

Jinn sighed. “You go in there and look. Your brother and I will be inside in just a moment.”

The boy ran into the store without a backwards glance. “I know I’m spoiling him, but he barely knows me. How can I call myself his brother?” Ryu said, glancing at the crowd around him. As much as Jinn might trust the Aristocracy’s guards, Ryu could not bring himself to think likewise. In fact, it would surprise him little if the guards’ blades were the ones pointed at his back.

“I’m afraid buying his love will not help you, nor will it assuage your guilt. Be his brother now, and worry not about the past. He’s nine. He doesn’t hold any grudge against you for being gone. He’s just glad to have you now. As am I.”

Ryu shook his head. “Your lectures will be the death of me one day, old man. Now let’s see what sort of damage your son has managed to do to my coin purse,” he said.

“It was kind of you to offer to pay.” Jinn’s words were accompanied by his booming laugh, and the two entered the store.

It was a nice day, one made all the nicer by the bright sky above. Though night in the Sixth Ring was haunted by a crimson moon, the days were typically temperate and sunny. The climate had little variation between seasons, and it seemed to rain once a week at most. What some saw as a blessing, however, Ryu saw as a tactful decision. If a god or gods ruled this miserable world, why would they want their perfect urban battleground to be wracked by poor weather? No, clear days were fighting days, the moon’s crimson color a reflection of the blood spilled in the light. Or maybe Ryu was just a sour bastard.

Putting aside his grim thoughts, Ryu looked around at the toy store. The stone and wood exterior was replaced by a cozy, warm interior. A few children ran about, looking slack-jawed at all the toys on the shelves, and he found his wayward brother twirling a short, wooden sword painted to look like a real one.

“Take this, brother,” the boy said, thrusting the straight infantry blade at his stomach.

For a moment, time seemed to pause. Ryu’s mind was wracked by overlaid images attacking monsters, each one hellish in visage and murderous intent. Then time resumed, and his hand caught the wooden sword in a tight grip, the wood’s enchantments straining under his titanic strength.

“Itsuki, a sword is not something to be played with, even a wooden one,” he said through gritted teeth. “Run along and find a new toy.”

Nodding, the boy ran away, his face pale from fright. Ryu stayed in his crouched position, staring at the empty aisle with just as empty a gaze. The boy had not deserved that, and Ryu could no longer blame his actions on Ender’s influence. He was a broken man, through and through. One day the cracks would show, and someone would end up hurt.

A hand slapped the back of his head. “Enough of that, my son,” Jinn said. “Your words were true enough, if a bit… forceful. I’ve coddled the boy. He has to learn weapons aren’t to be played with. I just did not wish to make the same error I did in letting you fight, but it seems I’ve made another in my foolishness.”

“No, you made the right choice. Let the kid have whatever innocence the world can spare,” Ryu said. He tossed Jinn a pouch of Qi crystals. “Buy him whatever he wants. I’ll be outside. Need some air.”

Leaving his father to chase after the boy, Ryu walked outside and leaned against the stone wall of the store. He closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. A better man. That’s what he hoped to be. It turned out such a thing wasn’t as easy as hoping, however.

“Ryu Ishida? How pleasant it is to see you once more,” a rich voice said. Ryu cracked an eye. Close-cropped blonde hair, an arrogant expression, an upright, militant posture… Gaius Caesar. His memory supplied the name, and with it came what little he knew about the man. Gaius was a favored son of some branch or faction in the Premier Aristocracy.

Beside the man stood a whole retinue. Amongst the faceless soldiers, however, only one face stood out. With his blonde hair shaved in a military cut, the broad man looked Ryu over with a mean expression on his broad face. His body was tense, as if ready to explode into action on a moment’s notice. Ryu recognized it. It mirrored his own.

“Sir Gaius,” he said, taking his eyes off of the armored man to look at the noble. “Nice to see you, as well.” A good man was polite to everyone, after all.

The noble smiled. “It seems my companion here has caught your attention. Allow me to introduce him. This is Marcellus Tiberius. I’m sure you two will get to know each other well in the coming days. Marcellus, here, is in the Master Division in the coming Contest, too.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Ryu said, holding his hand out to the dark-skinned man.

Marcellus’s golden eyes twitched, their color matching that of his hair. “Likewise.”

The two were of similar size, though Ryu was taller and Marcellus heavier. Measuring his potential opponent up, Ryu eyes the two-handed longsword buckled to the man’s side. If he was as strong as he looked, Marcellus was most likely one of the more promising Master Classers in the Aristocracy. Though a world apart from the strength of one of the Big Seven, a multitude of Masters appeared under the sponsorship of the major factions all the time. Of course, another multitude of them died by assassination, lost to the games of the major forces. Still, Ryu was reminded of his place in the upcoming Contest. To gain the renown needed to persecute Keira and the Lord’s Flock, he would have to win.

He continued to make small talk with the two, but it turned out neither he or Marcellus were much for conversation. Done with his attempts at intimidation, Gaius rode off with his cousin. They were soon lost amongst the crowds.

Ryu’s thoughts were dashed when his father and brother exited the store. His fright already forgotten, Itsuki bounced to Ryu’s side, clutching a set of toys.

“What’s next?” he asked the boy.

“Candy.”

---

Hours later, Ryu returned to the keep with his brother and father in tow. With the former bouncing with excitement and the latter weary, he left them to their own devices. He had a date with his bed that had been long postponed, the brief rest of the night before too little to quell the weariness in his bones. Growing up, Ryu had only a cot on the floor to sleep in, and he was glad to see his foolish people had grown to accept beds. Gods, if he wasn’t an old man in a younger man’s body…

A long package waited for him on the floor in front of his bed. He sighed and picked up the note that rested on it.

I hear you prefer battle axes these days, but I’m afraid tradition ties both our hands. The scion of House Ishida will not wield an axe in front of the Aristocracy. The Elders’ words, not my own. However, I understand a week is too little time to change your style, so I had this pulled from the House’s vaults. I’ve also gone ahead and included your Inspiration Stone in the package. A Master with no Technique has no shot of winning, even in your age group.

Your father,

Haru

Ryu tossed the note aside. He could almost hear the sarcasm in the writing. Oh, well. He was not a man to turn away such gifts, not now. The first thing he did was store the Inspiration Stone in his storage. He would have to put some serious thought into things before using it, as a new Technique would have to take the place of one of his Skills. Instead, he would just alter [Shadow of One’s Self] and use Soul Eater. Using his mana to form the Technique was already second nature, anyways.

Moving on from the stone, Ryu looked to the weapon contained within the package. It was a sword, but where the katana was like a curving switch, this blade looked more butcher knife than sword. It had a slight curve and a thick blade meant for cutting, and its hilt was wrapped in dark blue cloth. Instead of a crossguard, the hilt ended at the dull underside of the overhanging blade. He understood Haru’s words now. It was a sword technically, but its use was more similar to that of an axe. It might not take his axe’s place, but it was a good compromise for the time being.

The Contest was soon, and for all his confidence, Ryu needed to prepare.