For the hundredth time since starting down the road, Lyssa wondered if she should have told the man.

The assailing voice had sent Theodore crawling into his bedroom, and she hadn’t seen him since. He didn’t make a sound through the night and he didn’t rise with the sun to make breakfast, as he had the previous days. She had lightly called to him as the morning rolled along, a quiet sound in the quiet city, but there was no response and she hadn’t wanted to cause any issue.

She had been leeching off his short supply of food for days, endangering him by coming to and from him house each day, leaving a fresh trail for anyone interested. She couldn’t find it within herself to add onto the growing pile of burden by pounding on his door to wake him up and trying to convince him to come with her.

The roads were surprisingly lively. Only once was there a yell and the sound of cascading debris. But the sound, as jolting as it was, had, frighteningly enough, become something more of a nuisance than a worry. The nights were filled with similar sounds. Predators catching prey. Hearing the sounds only ripped her out of her thoughts, which she was trying so desperately to hide within.

Lyssa imagined meeting seeing Sarah each time she crossed through an intersection, peering down the long, roads of Agona. Before she realized it, she found herself needing to look around shoulders and past heads to see down the streets, a loose crowd forming around her, all headed to the same place.

That crowd was given pause when they saw the entrance to the arena. Or so they assumed.

The roads closest to the park had been decorated with strings of lanterns, hanging from buildings, crossing high above their heads to give the sky the appearance of a patchwork quilt. Papers with phrases like ‘Festival’ and ‘Hurray’ also hung at even intervals. She couldn’t read a number, the phrases appearing in plenty of languages and alphabets

Large red arrows, painted on even larger palletes of clean wood, appeared at each corner, ensuring they were all headed the correct direction. Her group merged with others. To her surprise, conversations started up. She found herself listening to others trying to comfort one another, something she hadn’t witnessed in nearly a week.

The arrows led to the arena’s entrance. That was when the reassuring mood and the uplifted spirits was given pause.

Still a few blocks from the arena itself, several arrows pointed to a doorway which stood in the center of the street. Nothing appeared before or after the doorway, there was no door either. It was a simple metal arch, and yet, through that arch, the rest of the street wasn’t visible, but instead the interior of what she could only assume was the arena.

“I am not walking through that,” a voice said, getting several grunts of agreement, passing the arch altogether, continuing the remainder of their trek.

Lyssa was one of the many who remained, processing what was occurring. The city seemed to still have mysteries it was hiding. Seeing another with her own eyes made her forcibly slow her breathing and remain calm.

Eventually, a woman stepped through. She turned around, looking at the group, shrugged her shoulders, then beckoned them in. In a single file, like children led between classrooms, they lined up and, some much more methodical than others, passed through the doorway. Lyssa didn’t allow herself to hesitate.

As soon as she stepped through, sounds exploded around her. People nearby, leaning against the white stone walls, talking in low voices. The sounds of whooping and cheering in the distance, the loud constant roar of humanity coming from all around her.

Welcome to the first festival of Agona.

The voice caused her to freeze her slow procession down the curved hall. Her eyes followed the others around her, scanning for recognition, but most of the others who had entered before her were already either stopped or proceeding at a slow pace.

This is a personal pre-recorded message for those attending the festival. For those interested in competing, follow the stairs down to the hypogeum, or find a doorway which will lead you there. For those interested in watching, follow the stairs up to the stands, or find a doorway which will lead you there.

For everyone in attendance, the upper halls are stocked with refreshments. These are all free of charge and part of the celebration activities. Please grab something to eat as you wait for the main contest to begin.

Be sure to make note of which entrance you’ve just stepped through, as you’ll no doubt wish to return the way you came. The fights will begin as soon when the timer reaches zero, so be sure to head to the hypogeum and pick a weapon by then, or find a seat in the stands!

Lyssa glanced over her shoulder at the arch which was embedded into one of the walls, through which a line of people was still walking. Above it, the word East was carved out and painted black.

Having skipped breakfast, her stomach growled. She didn’t trust anything around her, but she could smell the food already. Her feet carried her across the white blocks of stone, past doorways labeled Upper Hallway and Hypogeum, past more labeled North, South, East, West, Lavatories. She finally found a ramp, almost empty, leading up. She started the slow ascent.

Tables were laid out, filled with an immense amount of food and drink. Roasted hams and chickens, trays of casseroles and baked goods. Her mouth watered. Other tables had cauldrons of soups with large metal ladles. More held snacks, others desserts.

She began making herself a sandwich, grabbing slices of bread, then pursed her lips when she noticed that the slices she had picked up reappeared on the table.

She dropped one of the slices, picking up one of those which had just appeared, as though by magic, before her eyes. She compared it to the other in her hands. They were identical. Flaking in the same places, a small hole in the same corner.

Lyssa made a decision as she looked around, seeing the chewing faces of countless others. If there was something wrong with the food, if it was poisoned or worse, she didn’t want to be the only one left in the arena. If everyone else was going to die, she would rather go as everyone else went. She loaded her sandwich with meats and ate it as she started down the halls again.

It was delicious.

She grabbed an slice of apple as she passed a fruit table. Then a cookie when she meandered by another dessert table. She found a doorway with the word Stands painted above it, finished swallowing her food, took a breath, then stepped through.

There was no blast of sound this time, but the sounds which had distant were closer, those which had been close were further. Lyssa now stood at the top of the arena, along a narrow pathway which circled around the large structure. She stepped forward, leaning against a tall stone barricade and peering down at all of the people.

There were so many. It wasn’t packed yet, but there were streams of people still heading down the stairways and finding their seats.

She felt a wave of vertigo as she eyed all of the people who looked so tiny down below. They were dark specks milling around the pure white structure, surreal in it’s clean shimmer.

She moved away from the barricade and headed towards the stairs before someone in desperate want of Bara could toss her over.

Small white cushions, invisible from above, sat on each of the blocks which made up the seating. She climbed down, past empty rows, closer and closer to the center of the arena, where there was a pit filled with sand.

Imagining what acts might occur in that pit, she wondered if she had made a mistake in coming. But the feeling of being around so many people was reassuring in itself, especially knowing that none of them could use Commands. Sitting in the house with Theodore, she wondered if each moment could be her last. Their house could burst into flames or be crushed at the whim of someone with a high enough level in Bara.

Halfway down the stairway, she chose a seat on the end of an empty row. She plopped herself onto the cushion, surprised by how little comfort it gave against the hard stone.

Welcome to the first festival of Agona.

The voice started up again.

Those who have chosen to watch the contests from the stands have a chance at gaining bonus rewards through short games held between rounds. Please speak your reward type:

Her HUD appeared before her eyes. The words Kara and Bara were both bubbles.

Games? Lyssa thought with worry. She looked at the two bubbles, then her gaze fanned out to the people still filling the arena.

She had a level in Bara. But she was going to find that girl, that blonde brat, and make her switch her levels back. If she raised her Kara now, it would only turn into Bara when her Karma levels were righted.

“Bara,” she whispered. The HUD disappeared, replaced by a timer counting down.

Thank you. Feel free to get more refreshments as you wait for the contests to start.

Just under twenty minutes were left on the timer. She watched the seconds as they ticked away, then turned her gaze again to the swathes of people. Hoping to find a glimpse of blonde hair, of a red ribbon or a white dress.

Even moreso, hoping to see Sarah or Abel. Or even Bernard.