“Now that that’s done with, how about we set these rules in stone?” Prisoner said, reaching out a hand to shake. “No more last minute changes, no backin’ out.”

“I’d say the same to you.” The enemy’s representative snickered, grabbing Prisoner’s hand and giving it a limp shake. As they let go they swung their blade at Prisoner’s head without warning, but Prisoner stepped into the swing with an elbow at the enemy representative’s throat.

The crunch was sickening and wet. The representative coughed and sputtered as their blade fell to the ground with a thud, grabbing onto their neck with both hands as Prisoner watched them stagger backwards with a shake of his head. Sechen barely caught a glimpse of the damage, but it looked like there was a massive dent in the representative’s throat, lines of glowing purple accentuating the terrible damage. Their Issi was probably the only thing keeping them alive.

“See, it’s best not to surprise me. I get all kill-y when I’m surprised.”

And with those words, the veil of Issi that had been obscuring everything from Sechen lifted. Little clouds of purple laced with dark silver danced through the air, so full of Issi that Sechen had to physically restrain herself from reaching out to touch one, and now she understood why the newcomer had felt so weak. He’d been hiding his Issi, and had blown away whatever technique had been keeping the rest of the colosseum hidden from Sechen’s team.

“Now, if any of you try to run, I ain’t gonna stop you.” Prisoner said, and Sechen didn’t get the feeling it was directed at her. “But when you run to big daddy Glasrime, you best be sure to tell them that Sentence sends his regards.”

Sechen looked up and now saw that some of the colosseum seats were filled, and she hated how many of the people filling them she recognized. Not as friends, of course, but just from knowing the who’s who around the glacier. And this man had appeared out of nowhere, blew apart the wall of Issi that had been keeping them anonymous, and fought on at least equal ground with the enemy’s representative, who Sechen was also afraid she might recognize.

“Now, let’s get this show on the road, unless you need a minute to catch your breath?” Prisoner goaded the enemy’s representative, clutching his throat in a mocking gesture.

“We’ve already begun.” Croaked the enemy’s representative, filling the arena with globes of Issi that floated listlessly until they slashed through one, at which point a wicked detonation blew them all into a frenzy.

“You know, if I couldn’t see all those they might be dangerous.” Prisoner said, stepping out of the way as a ball whizzed past his head. “Too bad I broke your cloak. It belonged to your boss, didn’t it? And they ain’t here to repair it, are they? Trusted you and the apprentices to deal with the problems that are my new teammates? Tsk tsk.” Prisoner shook his head with a click of his tongue. “I don’t envy the conversation you’re gonna have when you crawl back on broken arms and legs, beggin’ for forgiveness from someone you just know ain’t in a forgivin’ mood. So maybe I’ll spare you that embarrassment.”

“Quiet.” The enemy representative spat, lunging through the orbs as if they weren’t there and stabbing at Prisoner’s chest.

“Oh, sorry, am I distracting you?” Prisoner mocked. “Would you beat me with one hand behind your back if you didn’t get all tuckered out from fighting a baby practitioner?”

“He was on an Issi accelerant!” The enemy representative screamed, letting go of their blade as it slammed into Prisoner’s ribbon-shirt. It fell to the ground without so much as scratching the material, and Prisoner made a show of checking his shirt for any damages. “What are you!?”

“Me? I’m just a guy who’s got his first taste at sweet, sweet freedom after a loooong time behind bars, cousin.” Prisoner said, making a beckoning motion with his finger. The enemy representative appeared in front of him with a startled yelp, and Prisoner kicked out their legs with a foot coated in blackened silver laced with purple Issi. “And you know what?” Prisoner grabbed onto their collar before they could fall, bringing them within an inch of his face. “I ain’t ever goin’ back.”

Prisoner snapped his fingers and the enemy’s representative disappeared, then swiftly reappeared and rocketed through the enemy’s bench, splintering the wood and sending the enemy’s remaining competitors scrambling. Sechen could have sworn that the representative’s neck was twisted the wrong way, and from the fact that they didn’t so much as twitch, she felt like she’d seen right.

Prisoner stepped up to the edge of the arena, looking at the massive ridge he’d made in the glass turf using the representative’s body. It was painted with shreds of cloth, shards of masks, and gratuitous amounts of blackened blood.

“Now, this would prove a problem for me, but if I remember correctly we did away with all the rules. So if your cousin over there can’t pick themselves up within thirty seconds, well, that leaves me the victor.”

One injured competitor leaned against the bench’s wreckage, and the first substitute looked conflicted as he held himself back from touching the obviously deceased representative, as if they’d somehow jump up and give Prisoner the thrashing of his life. When that obviously didn’t come to pass, he held up his hands and refused to enter the arena as Prisoner eyed him with a wolfish grin.

Prisoner stood with his arms open wide as if to say ‘come and get me’, but nobody took him up on his offer. “And that’s thirty. Now, do I need to count again, or do you recognize that you’ve met your better?”

Nobody moved to take Prisoner’s offer. In fact, the stands seemed to have mostly emptied out. Sechen snuck a glance at Elach’s body, a bizarre mixture of hope at Prisoner’s throwaway comment at fixing him and hatred at the representative who’d killed him welling up in her throat. He didn’t deserve to die getting caught up in someone else’s business. With a sigh she realized she didn’t even think Elach was involved with any of this anymore, and that he was just a poor sap whose path had happened to intersect with her own.

“Alright sisters, where are we headed?” Prisoner asked, popping up in front of Sechen and Metea/Irric without notice. “Do we go to the prize hall to claim our spoils of war, or do we forgo our riches for a head start?”

“A head start for what?” Sechen asked, too startled to bring up anything else. Like who in the hells the man standing in front of her was, why he’d helped them out, and where he’d crawled out from.

“Why, running for our lives, of course!” Prisoner said with the same energy someone else might have said ‘a day at the park’. “Glasrime ain’t gonna overlook this, not if they’re the same as I remember, and the people you thought were your friends ain’t gonna be too pleased to find out you didn’t bite the dust in this little set up.”

Metea/Irric held a blade of wind up to Prisoner’s neck, and he looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “Are you working with Rainshear?”

“Sister, the only person I’m workin’ with in this entire forsaken glacier is currently in two pieces at your feet. Speaking of,” Prisoner trailed off as he pushed away Metea/Irric’s attack with one finger, leaning down and sticking his hand into Elach’s glassy injury.

Sechen looked on in horror as Prisoner rooted through Elach’s wounds. She turned to Metea/Irric as if to say ‘are you seeing this’, and she shook her head in disbelief. “Don’t need that… we can go back for that later… whoops, that ain’t for public viewin’... ah, here we are.” Prisoner yanked his arm free, and with it came two bags. One gold and purple, and the other plain leather with some stitching down one side and flaking paint on the other.

“What the f…” Metea/Irric started to say, but Prisoner shushed her before she could finish.

“Hey, hey, sister, don’t draw any unwanted eyes. Most everyone here’s actin’ like they’ve already read Elach’s eulogy, but I’ll let the two of you in on a little secret; he ain’t dead.” Prisoner pushed Elach’s top half so it met with his bottom half, and they merged with a wet squelch. “He’s found himself on a mind vacation right now, and it’s my job to make sure he wakes up somewhere comfortable.”

“Existential bleed.” Metea/Irric muttered.

“Ding, ding, ding! Correct!” Prisoner chuckled. “You win the prize of comin’ with us while we run for our damned lives.”

“I can’t leave Revel.” Sechen argued, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“Revel will be… fine. For a little while, at least.” Metea/Irric reluctantly said. “Rainshear has been chasing her for a long time, so there’s no way she’ll get used up and thrown away.” Metea/Irric turned towards Sechen, and her eyes blazed with conviction. As if Rainshear wasn’t close enough to control her anymore. “We’ll get her back. I promise. But Revel would want you to live.”

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, go kill the people holding Revel hostage or something?” Sechen asked, and Prisoner pointed a finger to his chest with a questioning expression. “Yes, you. I know you’re more powerful than most of the people in this glacier. Because that representative was too.”

“See there sister, that’s your problem.” Prisoner grunted as he lifted Elach over his shoulder, handing the two bags off to Sechen and Metea/Irric. “You used one of the M words. And that’s up there with the P word, and the I-T words.”

Metea/Irric shouldered the leather bag, watching Sechen as she did the same with the gaudy purple and gold piece of canvas. “Care to explain what that means?”

“Well, the M words are maybe and most. The P word is probably, and the IT words are I think. Whenever you qualify somethin’ with one of those, things go sideways. Always.” Prisoner said, awkwardly shifting Elach so he could have both of his hands free. “Now, we need to make a decision real quick. Prizes, or head start. Let’s put it to a vote; say your pick on three. One, two, three!”

“Head start.” Metea/Irric and Sechen said in unison, looking at each other with obvious relief.

“I heard prizes, so here we go!” Prisoner said with a wolfish smile, putting a hand each on Sechen and Metea/Irric’s shoulder. Before Sechen could so much as raise a complaint, the world shifted around her and she found herself in the prize hall. And not just anywhere in the prize hall; right where she’d accused Elach of being in on kidnapping Revel. But there was one major difference.

“You must be Gilt.” Prisoner said, lowering Elach to the ground as he walked towards the cage that overflowed with Issi. “Let’s make a deal, you and I.”

The wisp manifestation that sat in the cage shifted, first to look at Elach’s corpse, then at Sechen and Metea/Irric, before finally settling on Prisoner. It sighed in what seemed like annoyance, the letters that made up that particular sound sliding over Sechen’s eyes in time with the noise.

“So be it. What do you wish of me?”

“Well, you’ll just have to wait and find out.” Prisoner said with a smile, grabbing the glass bars and giving them a few yanks to test their strength. “But I can guarantee you this; it’ll be infinitely better than bein’ locked up.”