Weeks Later (actually, only a few days)

Skids and I took our assigned seats in the arena overlooking the chroma dome. Though many mages watched matches both old and current through scryers, Skids had insisted that the first game I see be live and in person, so I could truly understand and appreciate the sport. I didn't fully comprehend the concept of sport as a significant part of society, but I was willing to humour my friend. Dro liked it, so it was important.

"How are you affording this? You owe a lot of people a lot of favours now. Even more after arranging for us to share housing," I said, louder than I normally would. The crowd's excitement and volume was rising as the match time drew near.

"People are more than willing to extend me a few more favours, given everything I've survived. A few stories of my adventures goes a long way."

"Our adventures."

"Sure, but they don't know you yet. You're an important part of the story, but I'm the one they want to hear about."

I shrugged, which was easier than shouting a reply.

"Besides, if this match pans out the way I expect, I'll be the one who's owed favours."

I had a bad feeling about that. "What did you do, Skids?"

"I put a sizable wager on Rolling Darkness taking the victory," Skids said cheerfully.

"Rolling Darkness? There's a team called Rolling Darkness and you bet on them?"

"Yeah, I have a feeling thall's playstyle will finally pay off. And pay out, big."

"You mean they have bad odds?" I demanded.

"Perhaps? But it'll be fine, you'll see!"

"And how many valuable favours did you throw away without consulting me first?"

"Consulting you? You've never even watched a game of chroma before!"

"I bet I could still pick a better team than one called Rolling Darkness!"

"Oh really? Then prove it! Name a name who you think will beat Rolling Darkness. If they do, I'll owe you... five favours. If not, you owe me the same."

I'd spoken in anger at the risk Skids had taken, without considering the outcome. "Uh, I..." A decision like this required hours of research, considering players, tactics, history, gear, alliances and rivalries...

"Come on, Charity, was that just talk, or can you back it up?"

I looked around the circular tiers of seats as if I might spot the answer. All I saw was mages. Now I was one of them. Perhaps not truly yet, but I would be. On the inside, I still felt like a scared girl who was supposed to fear magic. But I was not welcome in my own home, and Skids had welcomed me into dro's. In time, other mages might welcome me too. And for all its foreignness, this place was not without its comforts and conveniences. I could cope with life here.

"Well?" In the moment, Skids was no longer my ally. I had unwittingly sparked a rivalry which in our minds was more important than the chroma match itself.

I was the only one of my kind in the most hostile territory, a small injured girl among thousands of mages. My presence in this theatre of arcane battle made me a traitor to my own people, and my survival relied on the mercy of the magic users we had long despised. I needed to be accepted here, which required me to avoid conflict, remaining neutral and impartial. I was supposed to sit in my chair, pretend it wasn't made of some fascinatingly arcane substance, and avoid getting involved in fights which were none of my business.

It had not taken me long to break the latter rule.

"There's still time to make a choice," said the taunting voice of my primary adversary.

Every mage in my vicinity was preparing mentally and physically for the coming conflict. I could see the pressure rising, as if I was facing a boiler ready to burst. Arcane chants echoed back and forth like the roars of a herd of wild beasts about to stampede. Would I be trampled first, or scalded?

"I know none of these people. How can I choose?" I said, having to yell to be sure I was heard.

"You put yourself in this mess. It's up to you to get yourself out of it, if you can. There are six sides to this conflict. One is mine. You may choose whichever of the remaining five appeals to you. Surely you have a preference. You believe you know better than me, hmm?"

"This was not what I meant," I said, stalling. "I thought I would have time. Hours. I can't just pick a side on the spot." I almost unconsciously reached across my body to touch my handbag, which was hanging from my left shoulder. I had pen and paper inside, which would have been useful for making proper notes to compare my options, if only I had more time.

"Well you've barely got minutes. You'll think of something. You always do," my foe teased.

I looked down to the waiting fighters, who were arranged to begin their combat at a moment's notice. They were easy to see, each one well lit from above by magical lighting, avoiding any concealing shadows contrary to my discarded expectations. Some were hulking armoured brutes, others were small and nimble. Most were roughly human in shape and proportions. A small subset were far from human, and those each differed wildly in size and construction. These were demons, or approximations of demons, each bound in service to a different group of mages. The capabilities of these creatures were beyond my understanding. In time I might understand the rules which governed even these unholy fusions of flesh and magic, but not today.

I knew my response was pitiful before I uttered it. "Please don't make me choose."

"I'm not forcing you, but you're the one who said you could pick a better path than mine. Back up your words with action!"

I glanced back to the battlefield. Everything about this was chaotic, implying that a path of chaos might be favoured. From helmets to shoes, the magical combatants were outfitted with a mismatched collection of patchwork: some flexible, some boxy, some gleaming, some rough. Dark or dazzling, spiked or sleek. Where skin was visible, they also sported intricate tattoos, though the distance hid the details from my considering gaze.

Struggling to discern the magical specialties of the clashing mages gave me nothing but dust in my eye. They were evidently more interested in displaying their allegiance than giving away useful information about their capabilities. I realised that I'd been wasting my time, and began evaluating the equipment instead of those holding it.

The hands of a few remained empty, while most carried weapons or tools. Shields, nets, mallets, and a range of projectile weapons were the most common among those I was able to identify. Several I had no idea about, but even the somewhat familiar items had hidden magical capabilities. Some of the combatants stalked the field, sizing up their prey. Others stood insolently, feigning weakness. Still others engaged with the crowds, seeming to feed off their rising furore. I could not tell whether they were encouraging the esoteric, repetitive battle-cries, or railing against them.

Looking closer and more carefully, I spotted patterns. The chaos was not as complete as I had thought from my initial glances. Some clusters bore subtle similarities: not in shape or colour or even tattoos, but on a deeper thematic or structural level. Perhaps chaos would unravel and fall before a deeper, more pervasive order. "Not chaos," I declared.

"That's a start, but you still have four options to consider. Hmm, perhaps embracing the Magical Mystery will be enough to save you?"

Could I? Should I? It was tempting, oh so tempting, but I could not make such a leap so easily. Not again. Not with all that had happened. Though it had never truly been easy, not really. Not even the first time. "I don't know if I can."

"You can, if you think that's what will save you. So choose, and choose fast. But it doesn't matter to me. There's no escape for you, not from the inevitability of the Rolling Darkness."

If I had known my actions — all my actions over the past few days — would lead to this, what would I have done differently? What could I have done differently? A few words unsaid, and all this might have been averted. I would be living my regular farm life, unaware that such people and things as those which surrounded me even existed. So much death and destruction could have been avoided. And if I had learned that lesson properly, I might be sitting here in relative peace, watching the magical conflict take place without being forced to pick a side. I could have avoided being drawn into a generations-long struggle that was none of my business. But I had not, and now I was being forced to make a choice, again.

The last time I'd been forced to make a terrible choice... well, that was a long, painful and glorious story.

I punched Skids softly in the shoulder. "Stop being so dramatic about this. Fine, I pick Strategic Defeat. It sounds almost as silly as Rolling Darkness."

"Are you sure you don't want to pick Utter Chaos?"

I hesitated. "Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

Skids grinned a lopsided grin that looked more like a smirk. "You're on!"

"And that point eliminates Total Denial, leaving the winner as... Glorious Feint!" the commentator, Flang Ra, yelled with exaggerated enthusiasm. Ra's voice boomed and echoed from all around us, aided by magical loudspeakers. The wild crowd became even more frenzied.

Skids clapped half-heartedly. "Well that doesn't clear all my debts," I heard dro say against my ear.

"You're in even worse debt than before," I reminded drome.

"Nah, I came out ahead." Skids' smirk had returned.

"What do you mean? Rolling Darkness only scored two points! Strategic Defeat scored six!"

"And then thall were eliminated, so Rolling Darkness beat them. Which means you owe me. So that pays back the two favours I wagered on Rolling Darkness, and your medical expenses in Yiwarra hive which I generously agreed to cover."

I shook my head, not in dismissal but in confusion. "I still don't understand how your financial system works. Am I meant to do an actual favour for the carers in Yiwarra?"

"Nah, not necessarily. Perhaps, but it's more likely that you'll do a favour for someone who does a favour for someone else and so on, paying it forward until everyone's satisfied. And a favour might just be equivalent to a certain amount of work for your employer, or trade goods. But since you don't have a job yet — or even a role — you might have to pick something up casually. Or the debt holder might ask a specific favour."

"How do you keep track of it all? Couldn't people abuse the system to take advantage?"

"We have our scryers to handle that. And favours are only part of the currency. Reputation's just as important. No one gets away with taking advantage for long, so few try."

"Oh." That made some sense, but would take a lot of getting used to. Were metal coins actually more 'real' than trading favours? I shrugged, not able to think about it very deeply with all the commotion going on around me. "We should get out of here," I said into Skids' ear. "I can't stand this noise any longer. And I need to obtain my own scryer."

"You sure do," Skids agreed. "And you'll need a mail account. I expect there's quite a few people who will want to send you messages. But first, there's an important post-game tradition we need to indulge in."

We started edging our way through the crowd. Below, the players were shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries or insults. The watching mages seemed to really enjoy that, but I was feeling like I was drowning in noise. "What's this tradition? Will I like it?" I asked once there was a wall between me and the raucous sea of chroma enthusiasts.

"I sure hope so! Have you heard of ice-cream?"

I had not.

I enjoyed it very much.

My team had lost and we were in debt, but it was a good day.