“Ancient Kings,” Mattiew muttered as he joined up with Khemti Sett in the sand pit. “What happened to you?”

Khemti’s right shoulder and arm were discolored with bluish bruises. However, he seemed to be moving just fine. Sometimes scars and other visual consequences of injuries would remain after healing. Still, the sheer size of the bruised area unsettled Mattiew.

“Did you know that there’s a Countess of Cudgels in this tournament?” Khemti asked, “Because I didn’t. Not until I was put on the bracket with her.”

“Didn’t we wake up at the same time?” Mattiew asked.

“Other people wake up faster than me. And...sorry about Yasha. I didn’t get a chance to say it last time.”

“We’re all good. That was her choice. Not yours.”

“But still, I-”

“Don’t try to shift the blame to yourself. It’s like you want me to hold it against you.”

Khemti nodded. “Right. Thanks.”

“I’m guessing you won that fight with the cudgel girl. But not without cost.” Mattiew chuckled.

“The girl’s a freak. Only reason I took her down was because she got too hot and bothered to fight after beating me half to death.”

“Hot and bothered? I’d say I feel sorry for her family, but they’re probably a whole clan of magical weapon fetishists, if my wife’s house is anything to go off of.”

“Senna’s been insisting I rest, but I don’t really want to get put in the next bracket by default. Plus it’s the Trial of Humility. Those are never very physical.”

“Trial of Humility. What, do they make you go and wash the feet of fifty farmers?”

“They did do that once.” Khemti chuckled, “But no. Humility in terms of leadership isn’t about degrading yourself. It’s about having zero expectations. For anything. No expectation that everyone loves you, but no expectation that everyone hates you.”

“That sounds like a tall order.” Mattiew muttered.

“No expectation to have absolutely no expectations.” Khemti said.

“Now that just makes no sense.”

“This would be the part of the conversation when whatever sage you’re speaking to starts talking about balance. But I don’t get it much more than that either.”

“How are we doing?” Alpheos approached them from behind, “Forsaken Gods, Sett.”

“Yeah, I see it too, Alpheos.” Khemti shrugged his bruised arm. “It’s my arm.”

“Could be worse.” Mattiew said.

Ever since that night when they fought Yasha together and after truly reconnecting with his old crewmates, Mattiew didn’t find it as hard to be friendly towards Khemti.

“Where’s Hannenah?” Khemti asked.

“Eliminated in the last bracket.” Alpheos grimaced, “She’s alive and not severely injured, but...still sucks, you know?”

“Damn. Well, I wasn’t looking forward to having her betray our trust down the line anyway.” Mattiew shrugged.

“Make sure your wit isn’t so sharp so as to prick yourself with it.” Alpheos said, punctuating his words with a half-glare, “Now let’s shut up. The Keeper of Shai’tar is coming.”

The Keeper-who Mattiew had just been referring to as the announcer until now-was too far away for Mattiew to really focus on.

There was something about today, whether it be the crowd, the sky, or just the air itself, that gave Mattiew a good feeling. Well...not good, considering his wife was still under threat of death. But he was ready to take on whatever challenge the Keeper threw at them.

“Welcome, one and all, to the third Trial of the Bellirex: The Trial of Humility. I’ll keep it brief, since his majesty, King Amani, dislikes the fun I have with words,” the Keeper’s words were full of spite. “In order to be a good leader, one must be humble. One must not expect too much nor too little from their subordinates and themselves. Today, you will trek your way through the Empress’s palace menagerie and gardens to retrieve a scale off a sedated, but still very deadly Nightdweller. A hydra, to be precise.”

“Ancient Kings…” Khemti sighed.

Mattiew frowned, “What in Irkalla happened to not physical?”

“Shut up.”

“It is not as simple as it seems,” the Keeper continued. “You each will be injected with poison that cuts off your ability to draw mana and deteriorates your physical abilities. You must go about your task without your sorcery. The thirty-two with the shortest time upon returning to the menagerie entrance will not be immune from the bracket, but will have a major advantage. Get your poison administered and an organizer to time you before you begin.”

Mattiew felt a smile try to reach his face, though he suppressed it. No sorcery? So basically, everyone else except him was handicapped this time. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel the least bit cathartic.

As the Keeper stopped talking, a large stone door, thrice the size of any entrance of any tunnel, and embedded in a support column, groaned as it slid to the right, revealing a verdant mass of plants surrounding a walkway that disappeared into the jungle.

Did the palace menagerie reach all the way here from the Empress’s abode?

Organizers in white togas and clay masks, accompanied by physicians, rolled out onto the sand pit in waves.

Mattiew looked at Khemti, since Alpheos’s mask obscured his reaction.

“Well...good luck.” Mattiew said.

Khemti grimaced. “Looks like I’ll be needing it. I’d offer you the same, but let’s be honest. This’ll be a cakewalk for you.”

Mattiew shrugged, but wore a smug grin. “Maybe.”

He jogged over to a physician and didn’t hesitate to down the foul-tasting poison from a small clay vessel before grabbing one of the organizers by the wrist and leading her towards the gate.

“Alright, let’s get this outta the way.” Mattiew said. “I just have to grab a hydra scale, right?”

“Yes.” the organizer said as Mattiew let her go and cracked his neck.

He took a few deep breaths, staring into the maw of greenery, hopping between the balls of his feet.

Then something occurred to him. He was giddy. Why was he giddy?

For every other trial so far, he’d been scared out of his mind.

“Hey. The Keeper said the thirty-two with the shortest time, right?” Mattiew asked.

“He did indeed.” The masked woman said.

“So does that mean it doesn’t matter when I get back, so long as the time between then and when I left was short enough?”

“It does.”

Mattiew let himself fall flat footed.

Think, Mattiew. Clear head. Calm mind.

He could use that to study the effects of the trial on other more hot-headed competitors.

But to what effect? What information would he gain through sitting back and watching? He knew the other competitors wouldn’t dare just spill everything they knew about what awaited them inside the jungle.

And the Nightdweller was sedated. Those drugs wouldn’t last forever. And if it got aggravated by a competitor that got there before him, there’d be no chance of sneaking up on it. Plus, there was no telling how this poison would affect him as time went on.

Mattiew tightened the strap of his shield and flexed his fingers on the grip of his spear. “Tell me when to start.”

“Very well.” The organizer pulled out an undoubtedly sorcerous device made of silver and activated it. “Go.”

Mattiew pushed off his front leg, sprinting into the verdant abyss.

He kept to the stone pathway as large-leafed plants, vibrant flowers, massive trees, and twisting vines rushed past him in a blur. He kept a steady pace, keeping his spear parallel to ground.

As footsteps approached him from behind, he spared a glance back, finding other competitors trying to outrun him while giving him a wide berth.

He fell back, not wanting to let them flank him from both sides. But they never attempted to close in.

They were avoiding him.

Mattiew couldn’t help but scoff as he surged forward.

As long as he didn’t run into Semiramis, no one would dare get in his way.

Though Mattiew slid to a stop as a maw full of razor teeth exploded out from a nearby stream, snapping shut around the arm of the unlucky contestant nearest to it.

The nobleman screamed as a crocodile dragged him into the water.

Mattiew cursed under his breath, along with the other competitor who had tried going around him.

At least during his days sailing up the River Djet, he’d never known crocodiles to be that aggressive towards humans. Most of the time, they just left you alone.

Were they drugging the menagerie animals? Or were they trained to do this?

I just have to be more careful. He continued on.

Mattiew made an effort to run heel to toe with each footfall after dropping a few large armor plates, trying to keep himself from making any noise.

If the Nightdweller managed to land a hit, the armor wouldn’t do much either way.

The menagerie was large, but that didn’t really sink in for Mattiew until he was traversing it. It had to be at least two miles long.

He’d had to slow himself to a brisk walk to make sure he never tired out. He could name five legends off the top of his head where an over-eager racer was outpaced by a more methodical competitor. It didn’t help that the poison had done numbers on his usual stamina.

Still, he couldn’t allow the others to ruin his chances of catching the Hydra off guard.

Mattiew paused as a deep sound like a stuffier gust of wind blew past him.

Silently, he approached a clearing among the flora to find the Hydra, asleep.

The massive demon rested fifteen serpentine heads against its legs. If it were to stand, it would just barely be shorter than the walls of the sand pit. It laid on the beach of an island in the middle of a small lake.

But the lake itself wasn’t an issue. The creatures grazing around the lake’s shore were.

A herd of giant, maroonish hippopotamuses moored about in the shallow waters of the lake.

Anyone who presumed a hippo to be a greater threat than a Nightdweller would get thrown overboard. But in this case, the Nightdweller was sedated. And as crazy as it sounded, the hippos would be more eager to gore Mattiew than the divine beast.

Every Alazarite sailor held a special disdain for hippos. Aram once told him stories about his encounters with hippos. They were extremely territorial and bloodthirsty beasts. And despite how big they were, they could easily outrace any normal human.

Mattiew refused to step out from foliage for now and instead climbed one of the willowy trees surrounding the clearing. He perched himself in a branch to get a better view.

There was no way he’d be able to outrun a hippo in shallow water, but he’d once seen Sedis escape one by swimming further out and waiting for the Scourgers to pick him up in a boat.

If Mattiew could find a place distant enough from any nearby attackers, he might have enough time to get to deeper waters, where they couldn’t chase him.

But they were pretty evenly dispersed. If he could find a distraction…

Another competitor peeked out through the bushes on the ground.

Perfect.

The competitor was a young lady of Saryngol descent. It was a safe bet to assume that the dry steppes weren’t home to many hippos. He just had to wait.

She stepped out into the clearing. A couple of the hippos looked her way. But her eyes were squarely on the Nightdweller.

She approached the shore of the lake, trying to quietly enter the water.

A hippo nearby opened its gaping maw, flashing its massive canines before it and others started running after her.

The woman let loose the start of a scream before cutting herself off and trying to get away from the homicidal aquatic swine..

Mattiew dropped from his tree, landing with a roll. He sprinted for the clearing made by the absence of hippos and slammed into the lake. He trudged through the shallow waters as fast as he could before diving under and swimming.

It wasn’t easy with a spear in hand, but he managed to get to a point where the lake floor dropped significantly before coming up for air.

Part of him hoped that the girl had managed to escape the beasts, but he didn’t care enough to look back.

Now he had to pluck a scale off a Nightdweller.

Mattiew never dared to make a sound swimming unless he completely submerged himself.

He slowly approached the island, circling around to try and make it to shore on the opposite side of the hydra’s resting place.

Only a few trees separated himself from the Nightdweller as he came ashore.

Mattiew had never fought a hydra before. He knew that cutting off one of the heads would cause two more to grow back. Though, that didn’t tell him how to remove a scale from one of these things.

But he couldn’t wait around for the beast to shed.

The greenish-grey sheen of the hydra’s scales were dotted by some patches of discolored skin. Scale rot. Those might be easier to pick off than healthy scales.

Mattiew stuck his spear in the ground and held his breath.

With trepidation enough for a superstitious crew of sailors, Mattiew approached the beast. Step by agonizing step while the Nightdweller snored.

He paused halfway through and took a shallow breath before continuing on.

His mind played out the exact steps he would take to remove a scale from a brownish patch of cracked skin. It was better to just get it over with in one movement than try to disturb the hydra as little as possible. It might blow off one larger irritation more easily than it would a series of smaller ones.

Mattiew drew a bronze knife from his belt, keeping the metal from ringing against its sheath, as he got within arm’s length of the sleeping creature.

The hydra’s body was absurdly large up close. He could feel its body heat, even from five paces away.

Each scale was slightly smaller than Mattiew’s hand. The one he had his eye on was already somewhat cracked around the base.

He placed the tip of his knife a bit under the scale.

The hydra huffed and moved one of its legs, paralyzing Mattiew. But the creature didn’t wake.

Allowing himself a shallow sigh of relief, he wedged the knife under the scale with a forceful push, snapping the scale off.

Mattiew bent down to pick up the scale, finally letting himself inhale.

The twang of a bowstring preceded the thunk of an arrow embedding itself in the hydra’s flesh.

The hydra stirred, half screeching, half hissing as it staggered to its feet.

Three of the many heads whipped around, looking at Mattiew with yellow slitted eyes.

Mattiew ran for his life.

***

Adriana stared blankly at the five scrolls laid out before her. They were all she could shake out of the poor House Archivist.

The yellowed papyrus was sprawled out across a large table, lit by candle light in her private meeting space within the Veyshtari tunnels

They were old proto-Alazarite records of their interactions with the ancient Kudanite people, whose descendants now occupied Gozark and Cudea.

Written records of any kind from the Wild Age were rare. The vast majority of humans were nomadic. And among the sedentary societies, most traditions were passed down orally.

But even these were out of the ordinary. They detailed such oddly specific parts of the Kudan culture.

Her grasp of Alazarite pictoglyphs wasn’t bad, but the amount of change the script had gone through since the Wild Age made the translation an extra pain.

From what she could tell, these scrolls documented a cult among the Kudanites that called themselves the Children of Scale or something to that effect.

They worshiped a reptilian being they claimed was even beyond the gods.

The Proto-Alazarites compared the deity to the Sunkiller. Not Semiramis, but the mythic creature that originally held that title. A massive serpent that was the pet of the god Qarkhan. According to legend, it had swallowed the sun whenever humans got out of hand.

What did this have to do with her father?

Two of the five scrolls detailed Kudan thoughts on the concept of religious sacrifice, a common practice in the Wild Age. Other civilizations sacrificed animals, goods, or even people to try and appease the gods.

But the Kudanites seemed to believe that the victim of the sacrifice could enhance the effectiveness of prayers and requests to the divine. For example, the personal and sentimental value of a sacrifice. Sacrificing one’s child would reap far more rewards than a random stranger.

Adriana’s stomach flipped. Did they actually believe this? Did they practice it? Human sacrifice on its own was disturbing enough to her. But sacrificing family members? Adriana had issues with her own clan, but she and Mattiew had often discussed starting a family.

I hope he’s alright.

Adriana wished she didn’t have to spend her day translating and could instead keep an eye on and support her husband. Alas, her own project was a more productive use of time.

Or at least, she assumed it was.

What was her father going to do with any of this information? What about any of this was bad enough to send guards to warn her?

“Lady Nikoliades?”

Adriana perked up from her translation, her eyes falling on Lagopis, who stood in the curtained entrance to this chamber.

“What is it?”

“Forgive me for asking, my lady, but are you sure this is the most efficient use of your limited time?” Lagopis asked.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.” Adriana muttered. “But the guard won’t budge. The house staff are so stuck in their fear of Mother and Father that trying to turn them against the house is like dragging a stubborn donkey up a mountain.”

“I do wish I could assist you more,” Lagopis said. “But only the elite guard have ever witnessed Lord Andar discussing these scrolls. And they are surprisingly tight-lipped.”

“I figured dismantling the power structure of our clan would be rather easy once I had my hands on the espionage network.” Adriana sighed. “Speaking of which, any reports from the agents I sent to spy on my cousins in the country?”

“None yet. Espionage is a waiting game, I’m afraid.”

Adriana locked her shoulders, pressing her hands against the table. Her waves of jet hair fell around her face as she tried to mentally brute force her way to a solution to her problems.

“Maybe...maybe I should ask Abil about this. If ever I could find him.” Adriana said.

Lagopis stiffened. “My lady, I would advise against that. He’s an enemy spymaster. Not to mention whatever it was he pulled on Dymnos the other night. He is a dangerous man.”

“You’re right.” Adriana shook her head. “What am I thinking? Irkalla, he suggested I pursue this over the allegiance of the guard in the first place.”

Though to be fair, it wasn’t as though either path was showing more promise than another.

Her father was just collecting any forms of power he could to prevent himself from being drowned out by the massive political and sorcerous power in an alliance between Diamedes and Tammuz.

Again, her parents would do anything to prevent losing their position. She couldn’t threaten to take this information to the House’s enemies. They already knew such obvious things.

Adriana looked back at the scroll she was in the midst of translating. One pictoglyph caught her eye.

No, it wasn’t a pictoglyph. It was a drawing of an egg-like shape covered in grooves and engravings.

She frowned at it and tried to read the pictoglyph label next to it.

“What is it, my lady?” Lagopis asked.

“This...artifact the scroll describes. It’s a reliquary of some kind.” Adriana said. “They call it a ‘Jewel of Ascendancy’. Whatever that means.”

“A Jewel of Ascendancy...I’ve heard that somewhere before.”

Adriana jumped and swore so many times in an instant, they all blended together, as Abil appeared. Lagopis’s hand shot towards his sidearm, but hesitated to draw the blade.

“Stop doing that, you half wit!” Adriana hissed. “Why in Irkalla are you here? How long have you been there?”

“I know when I am needed.” Abil said, approaching the table. He glanced over the scrolls. “A Jewel of Ascendancy...a Jewel of Ascendancy...Gods and Kings.”

“What? What do you know about these things?”

“I know who they belong to.” Abil’s voice darkened. “The mind ripper. The master of dreams. He who watched the first sunrise and he who will witness it set for the last time. The Scaled One.”

“But who is that? How do you know about this…Scaled One?”

“I…” Abil let out a quivering breath. “I do not know. But my soul screams at the name.”

Lagopis stamped his foot on the stone floor, causing an echo. “My lady, this man is sending you on a wild hog chase with no evidence but feelings and sensations! Please, allow me to expel him from our chambers.”

“Do you know what it does?” Adriana asked.

“Not entirely.” Abil said. “There are…gaps in my memory. I want to know what they once held. But...even though I am not sure how, I am confident that these Jewels have the ability to grant wishes.”

“Wishes?” Adriana frowned.

“That Dymnos man claimed Callione wanted a relic. I suspect that in due time, House Diamedes will be sorely missing one of these.”

With that, Abil returned to the shadows.

Lagopis scoffed. “You aren’t buying this, are you?”

“Get me in contact with a member of the Diamedes house.” Adriana ordered.

“What?”

“My father has barely anything to gain from being a king. There has to be something more. Now go find a contact among House Diamedes.” Her voice became dangerously cool.

Lagopis hesitated, then bowed. “As…as you command.”