Megan had been to the High Temple of Shigeru Tokugawa, God of War before. Located near the center of the Temple District, it was a popular location amongst Milagre residents and a sort of mecca for the god’s followers worldwide. Shigeru had been a member of the Divine for nearly five hundred years, and even before then, he was a paragon of peace and protection. He used his own deadly skills to protect the innocent and hunt nefarious criminals.
Today, Issho-Ni, the fighting organization that he founded, worked in his place. Followers of Shigeru to the last man, they patrolled the civilized areas of the world, hunting down rumors of heinous human monsters, and even setting up temporary bases around chaotic areas so that they could easily be on hand to protect people from potential fighting. Shigeru had declared that, during battle and war, innocents were not to be harmed. Issho-Ni enforced this Divine Law.
So it was no surprise to anyone that the members of Issho-Ni, as well as Tokugawa’s highest-ranked followers and his family, were all exceptionally strong. Fighters or mages, they spent decades honing their craft, so that when the moment came, they could be the barrier between innocents and the evil that would claim them. Issho-Ni had a reputation honed over four centuries of excellence, and they had the express permission and trust of every ruler to act in their countries to ensure peace. They were beholden to no power below their God.
Megan knew that most of the fighting in wartime was taken up by the core military of Issho-Ni, a highly trained force of nearly five thousand troops. They were outfitted with special gear and trained in unique tactics that allowed them to fight as one unit, rather than a collection of individuals. Each squad of soldiers was assigned an officer to lead and fight alongside them, and four such squads had a battalion, which also had a Commander. Beyond this, not much was known about them, but it was rumored that ten Issho-Ni soldiers were equal to a hundred from any other army.
This all, of course, served to inflate Shigeru Tokugawa’s reputation, and love for the peaceful God of War was spread across the world of Ahya. Followers flocked to join by the hundreds. There were so many followers, in fact, that it became a sort of beacon of strength, where the best warriors in the world could flock to show their strength and achieve recognition. Once a month, a massive event was held in and around the Temple of the God of War. Fighters participated to gain recognition and new prestige. It was also where differences were settled, and apprentices tested.
All of this was explained to Megan on the way to the Temple, by Eric. It was to be his first time attending such an event, he told her. That was why he’d been training so hard the previous week and a half. He knew that he would be tested at this gathering, and wanted to be ready. Megen understood that, equating it to final exams. If his preparation was even half as stressful as that, then he must have been a tangled ball of nerves at that moment.
Megan was drawn up short with shock as they turned onto Temple Street. Normally, from this position, they would be able to just barely glimpse Shigeru’s temple in the distance, over the heads of other visitors of Temple Day. Today, a massive crowd had gathered, easily thousands strong. Marshalls were visible, working with Issho-Ni to contain the crowd and do their best to maintain order. The atmosphere of excitement and tension was palpable.
“Like I said,” Ehran told her, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd. “It is quite the spectacle.”
Megan nodded slowly in understanding, her eyes wide. She leaned towards Eric. “You have to fight with all these people around?”
Eric seemed to have something stuck in his throat and didn’t reply. Ehran grinned at the two of them over his shoulder. He seemed to be reveling in the scene of heightened emotions. He was clearly one of those fighters who enjoyed public competition. Making sure that Eric and Megan were sticking close, he began to push his way through the crowd. Their progress was slow at first, but as more and more people spotted Ehran and recognized his Master’s robe, a path began to form to the center of the area, and their pace increased.
The crowd only grew denser as they reached the temple, which was at the direct center. The sea of faces stretched an equal distance in the other direction, meaning that nearly ten thousand people were here to witness events transpire. If they were starting so early in the day, Megan was certain that they could be expected to continue late into the evening. Good thing Ahya had thirty-hour days, she thought with a grimace.
“Master Ehran,” Calemviir stood on a raised stage, peering down at the late arrivals. “Good of you to join us. And Eric, welcome. I hope you have been training hard.”
“Yes, Grandmaster,” Eric said, the words barely audible over the tumult of the crowd. “I hope to prove my worth today.”
“Worth is only to be proven by the individual,” Calemviir said cryptically. “Stay true to yourself and your own expectations, and you cannot fail.”
Eric bowed deeply to the heavily armored man, but Calemviir was already turning away. It seemed that Ehran was the last Master expected to arrive, for he was raising his arms, letting the crowd see him, waiting for silence. It fell quickly and in waves, until, only ten or fifteen seconds later, the street was silent at last, save for the occasional mutter. Calemviir smiled widely.
“Welcome, ladies, and gentlemen.” His voice, trained to be clearly audible even over the dim of a battle, reached even the back rows easily. “We all know what today is. Today is a holiday of fighting. The strongest men and women gather today to demonstrate their skill. They seek glory. They seek a name. But most importantly, we all seek to honor Lord Tokugawa.”
The great majority of the crowd clapped a fist to their chest in salute, a slapping sound that seemed to reverberate off the buildings for seconds after all movement had ceased. The people were waiting expectantly for the spectacle to begin. Calemviir wasted no time and gave them what they wanted. Pulling a small wooden mallet from his belt, he turned to the large golden gong nearby and struck it. The crowd clapped politely, just barely audible over the instrument’s warbling.
Immediately, Ehran darted forward and leaped onto the stage. The crowd, noticing his eagerness, roared its approval for several seconds. Ehran grinned around at all of them, giving a little wave as they quieted down. “Yes, folks, I’m back. I challenge Samuel Bragg, Champion of Arcana and Master of Issho-Ni, to a duel!”
The crowd fell silent in surprise. Megan heard the whispers begin to fly. Samuel Bragg was here? The Samuel Bragg? The fevered mutterings picked up quickly, until a general chorus of confusion and anticipation filled the air. Surely Samuel wouldn’t come to an event like this. He was a distinguished Archmage. Ehran Tokugawa might be a skilled master and direct descendant of his deity, but would Bragg really appear to accept a challenge? Then a flash of light appeared just above the circular arena, and none other than Samuel Bragg appeared, landing lightly on his feet.
Samuel had discarded his heavy Archmage’s robe, leaving only a dark blue sleeveless tunic and gray pants. His surprisingly well-muscled arms were bare to the light, showing one long scar on his right shoulder, token of a previous fight. He seemed to radiate power standing there, his potent mana rippling in the air around him in a visible shimmer. The stunned crowd, which had fallen silent at his surprise appearance, now let loose an even louder roar.
Samuel grinned at Ehran and the crowd, just as caught up in the spectacle as his challenger, then raised his hand to speak. He had to amplify his voice with magic, as he couldn’t achieve the same volume as Calemviir. “You honor me with your challenge, Master Tokugawa. I respect your skill and devotion to your craft, just as I have throughout the centuries, since the very first Tokugawa of your line came to this land.”
Ehran gave a deep polite bow, which Samuel returned, and then the mage spoke again. “While our match would be an interesting one, we are rather confined here. Might I suggest an alternative?”
Ehran did not seem fazed in the slightest, and agreed at once. “Of course. What do you propose?”
“Well,” Samuel said, turning to raise his eyebrows at the crowd, including them in the conversation. “I understand that your personal apprentice has recently returned to Milagre. Is he not your first and only apprentice?”
“Indeed he is,” Ehran agreed. “He is the only young fighter who had managed to gain my approval and teachins. He is an excellent student.”
“I can tell you’re proud of him,” Samuel said, his voice a bit quieter. Then it rose again. “Why don’t we have our apprentices fight in our place? Should yours win, you may claim the victory, and win our bet.”
“Certainly,” Ehran said, beckoning Eric forward without breaking eye contact. “Breeden, step up here.”
Eric did as he was ordered, a little nervously, but not before sharing a perplexed look with Megan. They were both thinking the same thing. Surely they wouldn’t be expected to fight each other so soon after his arrival. Quite apart from not wanting to, Megan had no doubt in her mind that Eric would win in an instant. He would be in her face before she could muster mana, let alone direct it to cast a spell. She swallowed nervously as she looked up at Bragg, shaking her head slowly. He was watching her closely and smile, telling her without words, not to worry.
“Who shall your apprentice be, Master Bragg?” Ehran said. He too glanced quickly at Megan but didn’t seem to expect her to fight. There was something to his gaze as if he already knew the answer but was playing to the crowd. “You have many to choose from, I am certain.”
“Indeed I do,” Samuel replied with a slight chuckle. “But today, I’ll be offering up my most recent apprentice. Don’t hurt him too badly, young Eric.”
Eric gave a weak smile as the crowd chuckled, and he seemed to take a deep breath of relief. Samuel walked to the very edge of the stage, and crouched low, talking to someone there who was wearing a dark blue outfit almost identical to his own. Megan craned her neck to get a better look, but she couldn’t make out the mysterious apprentice’s identity. Samuel, of course, being the teacher for the Spellblades, had many apprentices who were suited to the task. Maybe it would be Thunderborn, the elder student who Michael had defeated. That seemed likely, she thought. He would easily jump at a chance to redeem himself to his fellow students.
Ehran had also moved to the edge of the stage, one arm around Eric’s shoulder. He was now speaking quickly and quietly to his apprentice, a serious expression on his face. Eric was nodding in response to his words, and he even said a few words. A grin was shared among them, though Eric still looked tense. Ehran gave him a rough pat on the back and demonstrated an idea with his hands. Eric nodded again, and Ehran seemed satisfied. They both turned to view Samuel and his challenger, who was now clambering onto the stage.
The crowd was all standing on the tips of their toes like Megan, curious to see who the fabled Champion of Arcana would choose as his replacement. Knowing the mage’s reputation as they did, they were certain that it would be some high-performing student, perhaps the very best of his roster. And indeed, as the unknown student stepped up and removed his outer robe, letting Megan see who it was, they were right, in a sense.
He’d cut his hair shorter at some point since Megan had last seen him, and there were more marks on his arms, which were visible for the first time. Detailed lightning bolts, what looked like a bared dragon head, and even a sword were inked onto his arm. Despite this, and the severely altered appearance and aura that he now radiated, Megan had no issue recognizing one of her oldest friends. She felt her heart throb at Michael’s surprise appearance in an event unrelated to the College. But nothing worried her more than the hungry, angry expression on his face.
