The Inner Odyssey

The air hummed with excitement.

It was both stronger and more substantial than the anticipation which had swept through the Sanctuary two weeks prior. The droning sound was especially prevalent inside the Territory of Wind, as a vast, almost endless procession travelled towards the arena towering above them in the distance.

In this busy crowd of mundane civilians, awakened Mages, Paladins, and other individuals, a sea of colour undulated, ebbing and flowing like the waves within the Haunted Archipelago. Some wore garments of red, green, brown or icy blue - delineating which Territory they were from, and which one they hoped would come out the victor.

Others went a step further, purchasing merchandise from all-too eager vendors in the form of ribbons, banners, and intricately crafted signs. Those who could not afford that, carried home-made wooden placards, painted in both the colour and symbol of the Guild they backed - horns, swords, wolves, vipers, and a plethora of other emblems stood out.

As they neared the stadium, the Theatre of War sprawled in all its glorious splendour. The colossal stadium was constructed from a flawlessly hewn, sun-bleached stone, decorated with grand arches and marble pillars with green accents. For reference, only the Citadel of the Zephyr clan could compare to the Theatre's height, and even then, the arena was almost double its size.

Orderly queues formed as spectators began to file into the stadium. Inside, the people were greeted with a vast amphitheater, a design popular in the previous Age, and one which High Command felt unwilling to let fade to the annals of time.

Back in the Keeper's Donjon, Alden tried not to pace.

Morrigan and Kael were both present, the former imparting some last-minute wisdom to make sure he was well prepared. Ignia sat on her shoulder, sending what Alden thought were reassuring cries to help quell his anxiousness.

He sent a burst of warmth, and promised himself to give her some extra love once the event was over.

Alden sighed, and concentrated on Morrigan's words.

He knew why she was doing this, even though it strained her frail body greatly. She wanted to accustom him to the unavoidable political prancing he would need to face, and to highlight the possible avenues the other important figures might use to undermine him.

It would not do for him, the heir to the Sanctuary, to flounder like a dying fish, out of his depth in the political battlefield. Alden understood that, and recognised the need for such… diplomatic training.

But, still, the white-haired young man couldn't help but groan inwardly and detest it. He had no doubt his mind would be pushed to its limit, attempting to catch any hidden meanings and also keep his paranoia in check.

Alden sighed again.

He supposed the only good thing was that he would not have to brave this whole farce alone. Morrigan had arranged for Kael to join him as his protector and steward, which the Knight had gracefully accepted with the loyal deference he always showed. There would also be Drakon and Celeste, both familiar faces, and ones he hoped would jump to his defence, if the need ever arose.

Eventually, the Keeper finished her last-minute lesson.

The old oracle stared out into empty space for a moment, before glancing towards her apprentice, and addressing him warmly:

"Good luck, dear. Make me proud."

Then, she signalled to Kael.

The last thing Alden saw before the Knight took him away was the subtle curl of Morrigan's lips and the corner of her eyes crinkling with mirth.

'Blasted Ast…'

***

As soon as Kael finished teleporting them to the Arena, Alden almost staggered.

Not because he was unused to travelling in such a manner - Kael's lessons in warping the surrounding space and solidifying Alden's understanding of his new Skill gave him some immunity to the disorienting effects of teleportation.

No, the reason for his near-trip was the tens of gazes that had suddenly snapped in his direction, hungrily taking in every inch of his figure.

Alden remained composed, letting his own gaze rove naturally across his new surroundings. From what he could tell, he and Kael were standing at an entrance to a wide, expansive room adorned with plush chairs, lavish curtains, and a polished wooden floor.

Green-robed servants milled about, offering platters of refreshments and light snacks, while muted cheers streamed in from the opening where they would watch the upcoming bouts.

Even though Alden had attended a Tournament before, he couldn't help but admire just how many people were in attendance. They were like a human wave, seething with energy as they chanted for their champions. The noise must have been deafening - was, deafening, in his memory.

As it was, though, only thin streams of noise filtered into the private enclosure.

'They probably used a Rune of Silence to block out all the noise.'

Similar to the Rune of Concealment, the Zephyr Clan had chosen to muffle the sound of the crowd's cries. It would doubtless be removed or tweaked once the Tournament started, but for now, the upper echelons of the Sanctuary could sit in peace and comfort.

Speaking of them…

Alden felt a thick, tangible pressure in the air and registered he was in the presence of a significant group of Masters, the most he had ever seen assembled together in his life. That realisation only served to further hammer in the importance of this occasion and the weight of his new role.

He grumbled inwardly, before a servant bowed and led him and Kael to their seats.

Alden's feet sank into the soft carpet, another sign of the luxury on display.

Schooling his features into a neutral expression, the Keeper's Apprentice sat down, situated right in the middle of the expansive room. As his rear touched the plush chair, Alden felt like he was sitting on a throne, gazing out at his subjects like a king.

The delegations of Frost, Flame, Zephyr and Stone spread out alongside him in the shape of an eagle's wings; like ministers ready to advise him. With his Mana Sense, he spied Celeste sitting with a group of white-clad females, all of them glowing subtly with luminous light.

A subtle frown knit Alden's brow.

'Who are they?'

And why was Cece with them?

On the other side of the room, Drakon sat, encircled by his clan, trying his best to resist glancing at the ice-cold beauty dressed in a light-blue robe a few seats away.

A green-robed servant suddenly snapped Alden out of his daze, offering him a skewer of strawberry and cheese. Alden hesitated, internally questioning the combination, before gracefully reaching out a hand and lifting the small pick.

As Alden bit into the snack, suppressing the instinctive urge to wince at the sourness of the strawberry, a middle-aged man with a silver-grey beard and short-cropped hair - Grand Elder Orion, if Morrigan's description was correct - turned to him and smiled.

"I trust the refreshments are to your liking, young Prince. Our cooks used only the finest ingredients!"

Grand Elder Orion's light-green gaze shone, a strange passion in their depths.

The white-haired young man glanced at the Grand Elder, before swallowing.

"They are… splendid. Thank you."

Satisfied, the Grand Elder returned to what he had been doing, conversing with another Elder of the Zephyr Clan.

Alden looked towards his left, where an empty seat lay beside him, and then towards Kael, who subtly shook his head in response. The loyal Knight was intent on standing behind him, as if to ward off any potential threat.

Alden inwardly sighed.

Suddenly, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

And when he looked back at the empty seat…

A little girl now occupied it, staring at him with starry-eyed wonder in her eyes.