“Five on Rothchester.” Liliana called out as soon as Zir’elon left the room.

“You’re just hoping he loses.” Emyr chuckled, taking her money nonetheless.

“Damn right I am.” Liliana huffed, glaring at the illusion when Zir’elon walked onto the sands. If he won a second battle, he’d be incorrigible. If he could get his big head back through the door afterwards, that is.

“I hold far less affection for my brother than you do, but he is a skilled warrior. It will not be a simple task for ones in a lower class to best him.” Koth’talan spoke up, face dark as he stared at the illusion, as if the power of his glower alone could strike his brother dead.

Much to Liliana’s disappointment, Zir’elon continued strutting across the sands as if he owned it, a cocky grin on his face. Koth’talan would have to work on a real [Death Glare] skill if he wanted to have a hope of striking his brother dead with a look.

“Let me guess, trained from birth to be a killer?” Liliana asked, holding her sarcasm in as best she could.

She knew Zir’elon’s story. Knew the culture of the Alfein empire, how the battle for the throne was a very literal, and bloody one. There was one way to become the heir, and one way only. To kill all other contenders for the throne and prove yourself strong enough to hold your crown. It was why the emperor sent Koth’talan away. As a bastard child, he was not eligible for the throne, but his siblings still saw him as a threat and tried to kill him. Zir’elon was sent with his brother as a cover for the emperor’s affection for the son of the woman he loved.

Zir’elon had been fighting for his life the second he took his first breath. Learned how to wield a dagger before he spoke his first word. He was born and bred to be a killer. His tale was as tragic as many of the others in Realm of Hope, but any sympathy Liliana felt for him had long ago died a brutal death at the hands of his ego and horrid temperament.

Koth’talan had faced much the same, if not worse, without a true title to defend him. And while no one would make the mistake of calling him kind or approachable, he was a far better person than his brother. When holding the two up to compare it only damned Zir’elon further.

“Correct. All those I call sibling did. It is kill or be killed in the emperor’s court for those who share his blood.” Koth’talan kept his voice neutral, but his amber eyes swirled with untold emotions, memories of a childhood painted red with blood haunting them.

“It is the difference between us and many who live in this queendom. We will not hesitate to go for the killing strike.” Koth’talan finished.

His face was grave, and he looked far older in that moment than his sixteen years. Liliana wondered how red his hands were, and if they were as coated in blood as her own. Sometimes did he still see blood staining them? Blood that wouldn’t wash off no matter how hard he scrubbed? Tattooed deep into his skin?

Liliana looked at the rest of her friends and wondered who else hid hands so stained they were permanently dyed red? Marianne, who smiled so sweetly and happily, who went on for hours about how attractive different classmates were? Basil with his gentle voice and hands that held flowers so carefully? Rathwater who trembled in fear at any conflict, always staying in the shadows and trying to fade from sight?

How many of them had been damned before they were even adults? Liliana already knew her, Alistair and Emyr had lost their childhood innocence before they even knew what it was. But between all of them, would there be enough blood to drown them in a sanguine river?

“I think you’ll find, Talan, that many of us outgrew that hesitation a long time ago.” Emyr murmured, voice soft yet still carrying the truth in it, giving it a heavier weight that settled in the air around them.

“Yes. Perhaps.” Koth’talan said after a long moment, glancing around the room. No one spoke after that, turning their attention to the fight going on.

Zir’elon’s shield was a dark yellow, but Rothchester’s was a deep orange. The girl had presumably tried to get distance from the dæmon and failed. She had two short swords in her hands and was trying desperately to counter Zir’elon’s punishing strikes, but the prince struck quickly, utterly controlling the flow of the fight and forcing Rothchester to stay on the defensive.

She was obviously using a Muck affinity to give Zir’elon trouble with his footing, but kept getting herself caught in her own traps, as he wouldn’t give her the space to retreat without taking damage. It left the two of them knee deep in a mire of mud that did nothing to slow the speed of Zir’elon’s strikes. His sword moved so fast it was hard to follow, but the flickers of fire following it like a cape filled the air around the pair, drying the muck as quickly as Rothchester could summon it.

Zir’elon twisted his blade and one of Rothchester’s swords went flying, sinking into the muck and vanishing. With only one short sword left, it took little time for Zir’elon to finish the girl, sending her down into her own trap with a series of punishing strikes that turned her shield red. The fight was called to an end, and the combatants climbed out of the muck; the shields vanishing and leaving their legs caked with grime.

Zir’elon said what Liliana could only assume was an inflammatory remark at Rothchester, probably because his clothes had been ruined, that had the girl starting towards him, only to have her form vanish as the professor reminded them that fighting after the end of a round was called was prohibited.

“Honestly. Can’t blame her for that.” Marianne sighed, flopping back into the couch with a disgruntled look.

“Few more seconds and she could’ve ruined the rest of his outfit and gotten some justice.” Alistair mourned.

Emyr was handing a pile of gold to Koth’talan, the only one who was willing to bet on his brother. Koth’talan took the gold with a slightly disgusted look, as if he resented the fact that it came from his brother’s victory.

This time, when Zir’elon returned, he held his tongue, skin darkened in a flush as his shoes made a disgusting squelching noise with each step. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to give her group more ammunition to mock him with by confronting them when his lower half was coated in oozing mud. Luckily, there were showers attached to the waiting rooms for the classes, probably for situations like this, and Zir’elon headed straight for them.

Her group waited all of three minutes, trading wide-eyed looks before Marianne broke first, dissolving into hiccuping giggles. Shortly after, chuckles, giggles, and guffaws filled the room.

“The noises!” Liliana gasped out, snorting on another laugh as she doubled over, stomach aching from the strain.

“He-he left footprints!” Emyr choked out between laughs, leaning into Alistair, who had his head thrown back as his laughter rolled out of him in booming waves.

“Prince of mud!” Alistair announced when he got a breath to speak, sending all of them off again.

“I-I have to go,” Marianne said as she stumbled to her feet, still shaking with laughter as she swayed towards the door like a drunk.

Wishes for good luck were spread between laughs as the princess made her way out the door and probably bolted for the sands. The group barely managed to calm down in time to see the match called to start. Marianne was against Vanessa Lincoln of class B, same class as Rothchester from the previous round.

Liliana wiped away tears as she took in deep breaths, rubbing a hand against strained abdominal muscles as she leaned back to watch the fight. Liliana perked up when she saw Lincoln summon floating balls of flames, dyed the familiar black and white of Chaos. She had hardly seen any other using the element, and she was curious to see how the use would differ from Polaris.

Lincoln seemed pretty dedicated to the fire theme that Polaris implemented, but as the fight continued, it became clear it was a result of a Fire affinity. Polaris simply mimicked the fire element, but Lincoln had managed to meld the two together, creating attacks that could burn and distort.

Lincoln was obviously a fighter, using a morning star as her preferred weapon choice. It forced Marianne into close quarters, not her best position as a healer, but what the princess seemed to prefer. Her bloody scythe clashed time and again against the spiked ball, keeping Lincoln at a distance with the reach afforded to her by her weapon.

Blood clashed against flames and chaos. The chaos ate at the blood and shattered attacks, but the blood kept Marianne from being touched by the deadly attacks. Waves, walls, spikes and spears of blood emerged from Marianne, barely keeping her protected.

However, her element’s drawback made itself known as her shield started to tint yellow. Blood had to come from somewhere and with the shields preventing any of Marianne’s hits from spilling her opponent’s blood, it had to come from her. She might have blood regenerating abilities, but the amounts she was using were exceeding what she could regenerate.

Marianne pushed Lincoln back with a wave of water, giving herself a few seconds of breathing room, just enough time to call back what blood she could and reform it.

“Did you know she could do that?” Emyr’s jaw dropped. Liliana mutely shook her head as she watched the illusion, struck as dumb as the rest of them.

Four additional ruby arms grew from Marianne’s side, the blood hardening until it lost its liquid sheen. Marianne’s new fists clenched as more blood formed four short swords to sit in her additional hands. Her shield faded to orange with the increase in blood loss, a price to pay for her advantage.

Lincoln froze for a moment when she was confronted with the sight of Marianne, coated in bloody armor and sporting four new limbs. Marianne let out a silent war cry, scythe raised high as she charged back at Lincoln. The other girl hardly got her morning star up in time to block the scythe, but she didn’t account for the four additional weapons striking at her.

The flow of the battle shifted as Marianne forced Lincoln back, ruby swords and scythe flashing through the air. Lincoln could block one, but it left four more blades to cut into her and her shield started to fade to orange as Marianne gave her no room to breathe or regroup. Each strike of the macabre weapons against Lincoln left a small splash of black on her shield that was slow to fade.

Chaos and fire flashed as Lincoln desperately tried to fight against an opponent with too many arms and blades. Marianne flinched when one arm was destroyed, chaotic flames eating at it. The arm detached before the chaos could touch her and she continued her relentless assault.

By the time Lincoln’s shield turned red, Marianne was down to only two additional arms, the others having been destroyed and left in the pair’s wake. Marianne’s shoulders shook with her heavy breaths as she was declared the victor and the blood finally dripped off of her, leaving a girl with, thankfully, only two arms.

“Well, ‘Marianne having six arms’ wasn’t on my tournament bingo card.” Liliana said with a headshake, getting a few looks. She had introduced the game to them, though, so they at least understood her Earth reference.

Marianne stumbled back to the room, steps clumsy as they had been when she left, but for an entirely different reason this time. Despite her obvious tiredness, Marianne’s lips were split in a wide smile, her eyes slightly glazed.

Punch drunk. Liliana thought as she stood and guided the princess to the couch after she nearly fell bumping into a table and apologized to the inanimate object.

“Since when can you summon extra arms?” Liliana asked when she settled the princess down, letting her lean on her shoulder with a dopey smile.

“Issa new shkill.” Marianne slurred, giggling slightly, and Liliana reformed her initial diagnosis.

Punch drunk and probably loopy from blood loss. Chuckles filled the air as the others watched what was essentially a drunk Marianne. They’d seen it before at the finals party, but it never made it less entertaining.

“Mari, use your blood regeneration spells,” Liliana patiently instructed.

Marianne blinked big, ruby eyes at her as if she’d spoken a different language before the words registered her in her hazy mind. Her face lit up, and she nodded so hard she almost fell off the couch, only Liliana’s arm wrapped around her thin shoulders keeping her in place.

“Sssshhhoooo shmartish Wili!” Marianne said, in what was possibly Common. Whatever it was, even Liliana’s boon couldn’t give her an accurate translation, but it sounded like an affirmative.

Marianne’s face scrunched adorably as she focused entirely on using a spell. It took several minutes for her body to let off a light glow that signaled one working. Liliana looked at the fight on the screen for a moment, long enough to note it was Miranda Renaud of class D and Salathiell Carlyll of the same class up before she focused back on Marianne, concern for her friend outweighing interest in a fight.

“Ooooh, my head,” Marianne moaned, hands coming up to rub at her head as she curled slightly into herself.

Liliana frowned, rubbing her friend’s back gently as Marianne coated herself in more spells, likely low level healing spells or blood spells only. As a healer, any of her own high level Life skills wouldn’t be able to affect her. The tense muscles under Liliana’s hand slowly relaxed as Marianne let out a sigh of relief.

“I might have used too much blood in that fight,” Marianne groaned as she finally sat up and leaned into Liliana, seeking physical comfort. Liliana tightened her hold on her friend.

“Yeah, probably.” Liliana chided. Marianne gave her a sheepish smile, eyes sparkling.

“But it was a great fight!” Marianne gushed, her exuberance returning as she flexed her hands, as if she missed having the weight of a weapon in them.

“What was with the four arms?” Liliana asked again, and Marianne brightened.

“It’s a new spell I got after I leveled in the dungeon! It uses a ton of blood, so it’s better if I’m around things that can, you know, actually bleed, but I can maintain it on my own if I have to.” Marianne waved her hands around, eyes glowing with excitement.

“Why would you get a combat skill as a healer?” Alistair tilted his head, brow furrowed in bemusement.

“It’s because I kept grabbing people with blood whips, I think. I guess the system though I needed extra hands to grab idiots with to heal them. I can channel my touch spells through them.” Marianne explained, the entire group shivering at the thought.

Marianne did not need more hands to whack them with when they got injured. Then again, a healer with more hands to heal with was never a bad thing. Unless it was a particularly aggressive healer. Then it just meant they’d get to take even more damage before they were eventually healed. When Marianne felt they’d learned their lesson.

“Fight’s almost done.” Emyr announced and drew their collective attention back to the illusion.

Just in time to see Renaud vanish and reappear behind Carlyll and wrap a thick garrote around Carlyll’s neck. Carlyll tried to lean forward, employing a Gravity affinity to give her more weight and presumably break the garrote. An unseen force, Telekinesis Liliana would bet as she recognized Renaud from the class, forced Carlyll back long enough for her shield to turn red. Her desperate move to break the garrote had backfired, ending the fight far faster.

Renaud was declared the victor, and the two broke apart, shaking hands and sharing a smile in a show of camaraderie not seen in many of the fights so far.

“Well, that was a bit vicious.” Basil rubbed at his neck, as if he could feel the garrote against his own skin.

The scar on Liliana’s neck twinged with a phantom pain. The memory of cold steel digging into tender flesh didn’t resurface, but Liliana couldn’t help the small shiver of empathy she felt. At least the shields stopped anything from actually touching you, meaning Carlyll didn’t have to experience the suffocation.

“Interesting weapon choice,” was all Liliana added to the conversation as the students left the sands and they waited for the next to step up.

Those who had been paying attention relayed the pertinent information from the fight as they waited for the next fighters to step up. Renaud had used Spatial, Telekinetic and Wind affinities during the fight. Liliana mourned the missed opportunity to watch someone using a Spatial affinity, one of the affinities she wanted to get. Renaud had won her fight, though, and Liliana would get at least one more chance to see her skills in action. Hopefully without a loopy Marianne to corral.