Mattiew had attended plenty of banquets in his past, almost always under the guise of a missing diplomat or posing as a servant. But never in all his years had he been to one as grand as the Bellirex Intermission Banquet.

The Garden of King Veysha was a massive terraced building, constructed like a Wild Age Ziggurat. A ring of columns supported each floor, allowing attendees of the banquet to walk under sheltered courtyards.

Waterways carved into the stone wound about the structure like a geometric river, hydrating the menagerie of almost offensively verdant vines, trees, and flowers that had integrated themselves into the architecture.

Every needlessly immaculate and regal creation humanity had thought up decorated the banquet from golden filigree to scant men and women posing atop tables like a line of living statues. The most admired and important people in the world were the guests. Foods that a peasant in even the wealthiest empire could only dream of getting his hands on were common snacks.

Predictably, many who caught sight of Mattiew looked at him knowing he didn’t belong.

Mattiew had impersonated countless people. Being out of his usual surroundings wasn’t the issue. It was being himself in those unusual surroundings.

Adriana pulled herself close to him on his arm and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

She’d seamlessly dragged his attention away from the crowd and put it on herself.

Mattiew felt a small flutter in his chest upon laying eyes on her, as if he was a schoolboy realizing he fancied a girl for the first time. They were running late and he hadn’t really gotten a good look at her.

Adriana had dressed down similar to how Mattiew had, but no amount of gold and jewels were needed to enhance the opal of his eye. In fact, the gleam of such precious metals would obscure her.

Her hair was allowed to fall loose in those soothing waves. She wore only a linen dress, dyed black, with gold bracers and a crimson mantle over one shoulder. But she walked at his side with more confidence than every woman and most of the men in the banquet combined.

Her staunch confidence made Mattiew feel like puffing his chest out a little more to match her radiance.

“Just stick with me and let me handle the socialites, love.” Adriana whispered as their arrival was noted by several attendees on the lowest terrace of the Gardens.

“What an excellent idea…” Mattiew replied, trying not to sound nervous.

“Well, if it isn’t the Vagabond Prince. Come to see my sniveling brother be wed, huh?” A woman’s voice said over the general murmurings of the crowd. A woman in an immaculate black and gold dress appeared from the crowd. It was the necromancer, Maera Diamedes.

Mattiew hadn’t seen much of her since the start of the tournament. She was accompanied by a man that looked three times her age in similarly regal garments. From what Mattiew knew of her house’s magic, they were likely the same age, but Maera didn’t look a day over thirty.

“Lady Diamedes. Their name for you is...Death’s Majesty, isn’t it?” Mattiew said.

“You’ve no idea how lucky you are to get a name without alliteration. I had to shell out fifty pounds of gold to get them to avoid ‘Damsel of Death’.” Maera chuckled haughtily while her companion stared into some unapparent abyss. Mattiew was starting to think he was undead, rather than just old.

“I’m Adriana Nikoliades, Lady Diamedes. Good to meet you.” Adriana bowed her head slightly.

“Oh, Lady Cal-no, Nikoliades. I believe we’ve met before. It is good to see you again.” Maera said. “I must say, I am impressed by your husband’s performance thus far. I mean, he’s a mere man and yet he’s made the intermission.”

Adriana chuckled. It was noticeably forced in Mattiew’s ears. “He may not be a sorcerer, but I assure you, he’s no mere man.”

“That’s right...he’s a criminal, is he not? Commander in chief of the Sea Scourgers? An interesting taste you have, Lady Nikoliades.” Maera said. “Please, enjoy yourselves at the banquet. I’m certain it will be a once in a lifetime experience. Oh. And Mattiew? Good luck in the next trial.”

With that, Maera and her companion left them.

“That little….ugh.” Adriana hissed.

“What?”

“I forgot how constantly condescending nobles are.” she muttered.

“Condescending how?” Mattiew furrowed his brow.

“It’s all in the subtleties. But she was mocking us. I mean that last line essentially screamed that she thinks we’re poor. ‘Once in a lifetime experience’, my ass.”

“I...I don’t get it.” Mattiew said. “Isn’t your father trying to steal from her family right now?”

“Tiamat’s rivers...right.” Adriana pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Don’t worry.” Mattiew chuckled. “I’ll be sure she’s taken care of in the next Trial.”

“Good. Let’s move before the scribes notice we’re here. We’re going to want to avoid interviews.” Adriana said as she dragged the both of them into the crowd.

“What are we even supposed to do here anyway? Whenever I go to noble functions it’s so I can get information or kill somebody. Everything important is happening outside this place.” Mattiew said. “Is this supposed to be how you guys have fun?”

“Most of the time it’s for politicking. And since most nobles don’t know anything else, politics is a fairly common hobby.”

Mattiew caught sight of a man in blue robes with a papyrus scroll.

“Interviewer!” he hissed.

He and Adriana dipped into the crowd, evading the interviewer’s gaze.

They made their way to the second terrace of the Gardens. It was significantly less crowded, which afforded room for tables and chairs and a small buffet of legitimate food rather than expensive arrays of scrap on platters.

Mattiew spied Khemti sitting at one of the tables with his husband and his Kingmaker, Senna.

“Nikoliades.” Khemti nodded as they walked over and took a seat. “I have to say I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” Mattiew asked. “About what?”

“I saw your team had the least number of deaths during the Trial of Ambition.” Khemti’s husband said. “We both think the Trial’s distasteful.”

“That’s putting it lightly, Msrah.” Khemti said. “This is Msrah, by the way. My husband.”

“Good to meet you.” Msrah said, shaking Mattiew’s hand.

While Msrah was a slight bit stockier than Khemti, the both of them were tall, thin Alazarites. Msrah maintained a typical Alazarite hairstyle, shaving most of it save a bit on the side that was braided down the side of his head. He and Khemti both wore simple light linens, but were adorned head to toe with gold and jewels, which was the Alazarite way to signify wealth. The heat of the southern deserts made it impossible to wear much more than one layer.

“The Trial of Ambition is a barbaric slaughterfest and ought to be simply removed from the Bellirex.” Khemti said. “Four good men died for that spot.”

Mattiew had the urge to fire back with the fact that two of his men had died for nothing. But he quickly smothered that selfish urge. Maybe that was what Kalai was warning him about.

“Who’s idea was it to put a banquet directly after the Trial of Ambition anyway?” Adriana asked.

“Well, the banquet’s just a ruse.” Senna shrugged, speaking for the first time during the conversation. Her serpentine tongue caused her S’s to slur.

“Huh?” Mattiew raised his eyebrows.

“It’s what?” Adriana asked at the same time.

“You...you guys got your notes, right?” Khemti asked.

“What notes?” Mattiew frowned.

“The advantage.” Khemti said.

“We came in ninth, Khemti.” Adriana said. “We didn’t get an advantage.”

“Oh...oh, dear.” Msrah said. “Khemti, can you…?”

“Right. I...I don’t know.” Khemti said.

Mattiew, still unsure about everything around him as dread wriggled its way into him, prayed to the Ancient Kings that Khemti would clear things up.

“Ah, serpent eyes.” Khemti cursed, leaning across the table. “Look, there’s a Trial going on right now. The Trial of Remembrance.”

“Shit.” Mattiew muttered.

“You need to find a former winner and talk to them. One who hasn’t yet been talked to. There are only eight of them here and only those with the advantage even know this is happening.” Khemti said. “You guys need to find somebody. Fast.”

Mattiew and Adriana were both out of their chairs and halfway to the stairs by the time Khemti finished his sentence.

***

“Alo’aharu...sir? Ma’am?”

“Either’s fine.” Alo’aharu glanced up from their bed as a serving girl stood in the doorway of their chambers.

“Mistress Diana has sent me to fetch you. For the feast.”

“Oh.” Alo’aharu sat up. “That’s very kind of her. But I think I won’t be attending tonight.”

“She insists that you come, sir. Ordered it, in fact. Said you need to let off some steam and that your kind is predisposed to partying.” the serving girl muttered sheepishly.

What she’d said wasn’t necessarily untrue about Elementals. At least, as far as Alo’aharu had heard.

“Very well then.” Alo’aharu stood. “Allow me a minute or two to get ready first.”

As the serving girl closed the door, Alo’aharu straightened out their black tunic and mantle. As they put their gold bracers, rings, and anklets on, Alo’aharu admired the way they shined. They’d never really taken the time to savor the looks on the face of other Nightborn. Alo’aharu had worked hard for their position. They could indulge a bit.

Perhaps in the future, they could afford gemstones. They’d always wondered how diamonds would look on them.

Alo’aharu started following the girl.

As they moved through the halls, Alo’aharu found it odd that there were still servants performing their duties around the house. It was supposed to be their night off. But maybe they just had shifts that were almost finished.

“Mistress Diana is holding the feast in the dungeon. There are some who are not allowed to leave their cages and she wished to provide some relief for them as well.” the girl explained as they descended into the house’s cellar.

Just behind a thick wooden door was a network of catacombs that had been remodeled into a dungeon full of caged slaves.

The scents and sounds brought back horrible memories of what Alo’aharu once was. A lowly husk awaiting their fate.

Though it was odd that things weren’t even slightly more jovial. Wasn’t there meant to be a feast happening?

Nightborn slaves were still languishing in their cages. None of the other servants were down here.

Then Diana appeared from the shadows created by the dim torchlight.

“Alo’aharu. You came.” Diana smiled, but there was something not quite right.

In fact, all of Alo’aharu’s instincts screamed a warning.

“Sorry to bring you all the way down here, as the feast is being held in the dining room.” Diana said.

“But...she said-”

“That the feast was down here?” Diana’s voice grew cold like a desert night. “No. I just want to make sure that none of the other servants can hear you.”

Alo’aharu backed away, but was stopped when two Callione soldiers grabbed their arms and clamped a metal collar around their neck. They stumbled, struggling to keep upright as their connection to ambient mana was forced shut.

“M-Miss Callione, what’s the meaning of this?” Alo’aharu asked.

“I told you earlier that I felt sorry for you.” Diana muttered. “Your kind doesn’t deserve pity. I give rewards. Just as my Lord does. I also dole out more…lasting punishments than simple beatings. Especially to those who have forgotten their place!”

Alo’aharu furrowed their brow, hoping to hear that this all was some kind of practical joke.

Diana’s foot swung across their face. Her kick simply disrupted Alo’aharu’s form slightly, but they still felt every ounce of pain. “Ancient Kings, that’s unsatisfying. Guards, take off this creature’s human costume and put it in a cage where it belongs.”

“W-wait!” Alo’aharu groaned. “Please, I-”

“The pleads of the worthless are just as worthless as they are.” Diana spat, stomping on Alo’aharu’s head, sending a shockwave of vertigo through their body.

“No!” Alo’aharu screamed as Diana started for the dungeon’s exit.

“And shut that thing up, too.” she ordered.

Once the door slammed shut, Alo’aharu looked to the guards as they grinned at them.

“Look who’s gotten itself into trouble. The little leech who’s been going around playing dress up as a nobleman.” one of the guards sneered, breath that stank of alcohol wafting from his yellowed teeth.

“I was waiting to wipe that high and mighty look off your face!” The second guard tore off Alo’aharu’s silks before punching them in the head with that same hand.

Alo’aharu collapsed. As they tried to push themselves up, the drunk guard grabbed their wrist.

“Look at this! The master adorned this thing like a trophy!” the guard laughed, showing his partner Alo’aharu’s gold bracer.

“These won’t be needed in a dungeon, will they?” The second guard chuckled, taking the gold and jewelry off Alo’aharu’s body. “Irkalla, we could get another slave with all this. I’ve always wanted a siren.”

The elemental wanted to scream at them to stop or resist somehow. But with the collar blocking off their access to mana, their limbs were brittle as glass and heavy as lead.

Why was this happening?

Alo’aharu was grabbed by the throat and thrown into a cage. Before the guards locked the door and left them to languish.

How did this happen? How did they end up in a cage again after all their work? How had Alo’aharu become a slave again.

Their heart ached now unlike the years before. It pained them more than any of the blows and beatings had. Perhaps it was because they’d been spoiled rotten by living like a free man. Or maybe it was the sting of regret that came after a betrayal.

***

Mattiew almost crashed into his wife as they rushed to meet each other in one of the Gardens’ many secretive nooks.

“Shit! Sorry!” Mattiew steadied Adriana as she stumbled from his impact.

“Senebsima Djeta is taken?” Adriana asked. “Almost no one knows she even won a Bellirex!”

“Well, turns out necromancers have really good memories.” Mattiew hissed. “What about Ashur-Maliki Irok?”

Adriana shook her head.

“Fuck. Fuck, I can’t get eliminated over this!” Mattiew clutched at his hair.

“I know, love. I know. We’ll find somebody.”

His very breath started to feel overwhelming. What in Irkalla was the point of having a trial that could only be won with the advantage from the last one? “Who else is even here?”

“We’ve accounted for…” Adriana started counting in her head. “Shit. We’ve met with seven. There’s only one we haven’t spoken to yet.”

“Who are they?”

“I...I don’t know. We weren’t exactly given a list.”

“Well, we need to hurry and find this last person.” Mattiew huffed. “Ancient Kings, I’m so done with this hydrashit.”

“Ancient Kings.” Adriana muttered, her eyes growing wide.

“What?”

“No, Ancient Kings. The Eight Emperors are here.” Adriana said. “Veyshtar is under the rule of a new dynasty! There’s only one way for an Empire to change hands.”

“The Empress won a Bellirex.” Mattiew muttered.

“The Emperors should be on the top floor!” Adriana hissed. “I’ll try to slow down anyone headed her way.”

“Thanks.” Mattiew pecked her on the cheek before bolting off towards the nearest staircase.

Blood thumped through his head with a mixture of exertion and stress as he leapt up the steep stone stairs two at a time.

Mattiew stumbled as he reached the uppermost level of the Gardens, spotting the Empress of Veyshtar, dressed from head to toe in gold.

Around her, the seven other emperors dined at a circular table.

They all shot glances at Mattiew as he panted. The looks on their faces displaying a range of emotions from disregard to indignation.

He needed to talk to the Empress. No matter the cost.

“Empress!” he panted. “Empress, have you been spoken to yet?”

The Empress set down a goblet, her golden eyes quizzical.

“Are you referring to the Trial of Remembrance?” Kaletor, King of Cudea sneered. “We would never demand the Empress’s participation. And advantages were handed out only to those of the top eight contestants after the Trial of Ambition. None who earned their spot would enact such insolence.”

Mattiew wanted to respond. He had earned the right to this Trial. He’d sacrificed two of his beloved companions for it. But the pit growing within him at the truth that the Empress wasn’t a valid candidate threatened to swallow the fire in his lungs.

“Now shoo, cur.” Kaletor waved Mattiew away. “Before I call the guardsm-”

“Hold, Kaletor.” The Empress held up a bronze colored hand. Her words spilled from her lips, full of slow moving emphasis and her voice thick with regality. “Sixteen earned their place during the Trial of Ambition. Your advantage was merely a win on a papyrus scroll.”

“Siduri, you cannot-” the King started.

“Cannot what, Kaletor? What is it that I, Empress of the Cradle of Mankind, cannot do?” the Empress asked, arching a jet black eyebrow. “Would speaking to this boy violate my sacred oath?”

“N-no, of course not.”

A slight twinge of vindication rushed through Mattiew before the Empress turned to face him, her colorful robes seeming to shift shades with each ripple.

“I never saw the tournament organizers complain about shaking the numbers up.” the Empress said. She looked around at the other Kings and Queens seated around her. “Leave us. I will join you on the lowest terrace after I am done here.”

Mattiew stood in awe as the kings of seven of the biggest nations obeyed her without question. What power came with being dubbed the Mother of Mankind that allowed her such influence?

But he was quick to remind himself that she wasn’t exactly someone to be put on a pedestal. Odds are she’d led a privileged life of nobility and won the crown of Veyshtar with powerful sorcery. The weapon of the elite that Mattiew stood against.

***

Adriana left Mattiew to complete the Trial of Remembrance, returning to the second terrace where a crowd of nobles had gathered to watch the marriage ceremony between Kleitos Diamedes and Anai Tammuz.

She ignored the rites being performed and caught sight of her father, sitting with her mother and the heads of Callione branch houses as if nothing was happening at the Diamedes house.

Adriana had sent her spies to watch the estate for whoever her father would send to steal the Jewel of Ascendancy for him.

“Adriana?” a wolfish voice spoke from behind her.

She whirled around as every muscle in her body tensed.

Phygius Callione walked up to her, draped in black and blood red robes, adorned with gold. His pale face was scarred by a streak from a Nightdweller on one of his many expeditions into the Wildlands.

“It’s good to see you, cousin.” he said.

Adriana swallowed a lump in her throat. “Phygius...Father never said that you’d be here.”

“When I heard that your commoner husband had made it this deep into the tournament, I had to come see it for myself.” Phygius shrugged. “It was good timing too. I managed to kill a dragon during my latest expedition. I figured I would honor my Lord Uncle with a trophy.”

“I-I see.” Adriana straightened her back in an attempt to measure up to Phygius’s absurd height.

Don’t let him see any cracks. Don’t play his game. Make him play yours.

“So this husband of yours. May I meet him?”

“He’s undergoing a Trial. But if we have the opportunity, I will be sure to introduce you, cousin Phygius.” Adriana said. Her hands felt numb as she flexed them behind her back.

Dymnos had told her that Phygius was seen speaking to her father about the Jewel. Was he in on her father’s machinations? And if so, to what extent?

She needed to take the first step, put him on the backfoot.

Adriana leaned closer to her cousin. “Father tells me you know about the Jewel.” she whispered.

Phygius turned to look at her, eyes wide.

“Quit making that face.” she hissed.

“W-what Jewel?”

Adriana raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I'm daft?”

Phygius grimaced. “Why did Uncle Andar tell you?”

“He knows your family is trying to take over as the main branch. He promised me a wish from the Jewel under the condition that I eliminate you. He thought that if he could occupy you with an enemy, he’d get the Jewel to himself.”

“So that’s his angle?” Phygius asked, still sounding unsure. “If he told you, then why is your husband still in the tournament?”

“Because he wants to compete.” Adriana said without missing a beat.

So there was a reason beyond the crown to involve Mattiew in the tournament…

“Nonetheless,” Adriana continued. “I don’t appreciate Father forcing him to compete in the first place.”

“Hm, I feel similarly. I told him to just get it over with and kill Nikoliades. It wouldn’t matter how he went about, you would still hold him responsible.”

Adriana only allowed her eyebrows to raise slightly. Kill Mattiew? Why? What did he have to do with anything? Why was whether she held Andar responsible for Mattiew’s death important?

“I’ll bet uncle’s fuming at the fact that your husband managed to make it this far.” Phygius chuckled. “Serves him right for his naivete.”

Adriana saw Andar stand in the corner of her eyes and start to make his way over.

“Father’s stealing the Jewel tonight. Perhaps we can plan to steal it from him. I’ll give it to you. I don’t need a wish. I just want out of his grasp.” Adriana whispered.

Phygius gave her a nod.

Adriana put a good number of her cards on the table. She could only hope that Phygius took her word and didn’t try to bring it up to her father.

But if all went well, she had a powerful ally that could serve as a witness to her father’s plans to steal the Jewel.

“It’s so good to see you two talking after such a long time apart.” Andar cracked a grin. “Come, Adriana. Sit with your family.”

***

The Empress gestured to the seat of the Khan of Saryngolia on her right.

“Sit.”

Mattiew did so.

“I must say, you’re far more pleasant than your son, if you don’t mind me saying.” Mattiew chuckled.

“You are Mattiew Nikoliades, yes? The one the organizers call the Vagabond King.”

“Yup.” He said. “Er, I mean...I am...your highness. How is it that you know me?”

“You’ve been quite the controversial character considering you’re a contestant without sorcery who’s made it to the intermission. None of your kind have gotten as far as you have.”

“My...kind…”

“Those with no sorcerous ability.” The Empress said matter of factly. “Now, keep in mind that this is a Trial. Simply finding me does not guarantee your spot.”

“What else do I need to do?”

“Answer some questions for me. Such that I can know that you are a candidate worthy of the Ouroboros. Then listen to me and demonstrate your ability to learn from history. Tell me who you are. What do you stand for?”

“It’s pretty simple in my eyes. I stand for equality and the elimination of the divides in the world.” Mattiew repeated the summary he’d prepared just in case a scribe caught him unaware. “The divide between Nightborn and humans. The divide between the nobility and the common people. Those blessed with powerful gifts and those of us who must turn to cheating and stealing to survive in an inhospitable system.”

“And yet you gave up on the advantage that would’ve gotten you a pass in this Trial to protect those you brought into the Trial of Ambition with you.” the Empress observed. “It sounds to me you were interested in something other than your supposed ideals.”

Mattiew’s muscles went cold, attempting not to show an ounce of emotion that would give her confirmation of her assumption.

“There isn’t anything you wish to gain in this tournament. There is something you fear losing.”

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” Mattiew denied her accusation.

The Empress scoffed. “I’ve seen others in your predicament a million times. Most of the time, it’s poor noble kids who don’t want to lose their parents’ respect. Everything you tell me is confidential. After all, no one can force me to do anything.”

Mattiew took a deep breath, considering.

Talk to them. Kalai’s voice echoed in his head. He didn’t really have someone to truly confide in. Everyone around him, even his own wife, was relying on him in some capacity. He couldn’t be honest.

“I...I...I need to save lives.” Mattiew said. “My wife is the daughter of Andar Callione. She’s been cursed by her own mother. If I lose this tournament, she dies. If I die...well, I feel like that would be worse for her than her own death. I know it would be for me.”

“An unfortunate fate.” the Empress mused with a tone that could be mistaken for apathetic. But something beneath the surface convinced Mattiew she cared.

“What’s more, certain parts of this tournament are designed to kill off members of my followers. I only have my followers because I lied to my former underlings. I already abandoned them once. To send them to their deaths only to give the crown to Callione...it’s unforgivable.” Mattiew explained.

“And you find it impossible to pick one over the other.”

Mattiew nodded.

He wasn’t sure about revealing all this to a woman who was, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger.

Yet she knew his predicament and seemed to understand his position.

The Empress tapped her fingers on the table. “I must admit, I’m not sure if I could make a decision myself.”

Mattiew scoffed. “I’m glad someone finally gets it.”

“But therein lies the problem, Nikoliades.” the Empress said. “You assume that your circumstances can only be one version of a false dichotomy. All you’ve done is lament over the difficulty of your decision.”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have given up on changing your fate, Mattiew. And as such, you’ve given up your only favorable option.”

“I haven’t given up anythi-”

“You will listen to me or you will fail this Trial, boy.” the Empress gave him a glare not even death could match.

Mattiew closed his mouth and shrank a little in his seat.

“When the Ancient Kings made peace with each other and declared war on the Gods, that was an act that allowed them to take control of their fate.” the Empress explained. “All humans up until that point had been offered the same ultimatum by the gods: submit or die. A false dichotomy. Making peace and combining humanity’s strength was an unprecedented move. The gods believed human nature to be self-serving. But that’s the thing about humans. We can take something immutable and turn it to our advantage. In order to make changes to our destiny, we must actively choose to reject the terrible offer we’ve been given. We must fight our battles if we are to have any right to complain about the outcome.”

Mattiew furrowed his brow. “You’re starting to sound a lot like my Champion.”

The Empress let out a refined, but strangely human chuckle. “It’s always easier to point out the problems in someone else’s life.”

Mattiew cupped his chin, reflecting. “I’ve been letting my wife do all the work behind the scenes to free us…I thought I was doing my part by fighting in the tournament. But...I was just playing along with Callione’s game.”

The Empress smiled. “An interesting epiphany. And now that you know that, you have the opportunity to change.”

Mattiew nodded. The Empress was right. Anyone with a conscious mind could take those steps. He just needed to give himself a kick in the ass. It was time for him to get over the novelty of fighting as a commoner in this tournament.

The Empress stood from her seat. “I look forward to watching what you do next, Nikoliades. Consider this Trial successfully completed.”