Reza found himself in the bustling forum, having crossed onto the island from the Merchant Bridge. He had completed the errands his sisters had requested within the city. The chilly morning still saw thick crowds, possibly even more due to the anticipated contest news. It had been two days since the Anceslia, and he had finally recovered from the late-night festivities and perhaps some excessive drinking.

  Lukas and Marie stayed for a few more hours, primarily conversing with other partygoers. Tavia, however, had Reza engage in similar conversations. Fortunately, he managed to bid farewell to Marie and Lukas as they left. Reza fulfilled his duty by handing a small gift to each person who had attended the party.

  It wouldn’t be long before he saw them again and discovered the reason for his visit to the city today. Reza and his sisters would be entertained by the Sulli’s in five days at the Arkhen Theatre to watch the new play, unless he could come up with a compelling excuse to avoid it. Plays were never his forte, although he had seen several when he was younger. They often lacked exciting plots and were overly romantic, which he couldn’t comprehend people’s fascination with them. However, Cassia and Tavia were thrilled about the prospect, and he wouldn’t resist their enthusiasm nor belittle the political opportunities this presented for his family. So, for one night, Reza would suppress his pride and attempt to enjoy himself.

  Reza navigated through the dense crowd, struggling to find his way. Thousands of people milled around, creating a sea of bodies as thick as he had ever encountered. His mission was to reach Sorana’s Tower to verify the rumors he had heard this morning in the merchant quarter. Sorana was scheduled to announce the contest to become her new Archon around midday.

  “Excuse me,” Reza shouted at a particularly large group of Wraith Pilgrims. They halted, their eyes fixed on the Broken King and his dilapidated building. Some even fell to their knees in reverence, almost as if they were praying.

  Multiple pilgrims turned to look at Reza, their eyes widening in recognition as they noticed his military uniform. The knives and sword at his waist cleared a path for him, allowing him to pass through the group without incident.

  By the time he reached the base of the black, unlit tower of Sorana, it was almost midday, the time the rumors had predicted the priest would make the announcement. Fortunately, there was no sign that the event had taken place. A large crowd had gathered around the tower, and Reza noticed that the gates were barred.

  Strange. Reza checked the towers on either side of Sorana’s, and to his surprise, he saw several people entering and exiting the towers. This confirmed the rumors; the towers were open almost every hour, day and night.

  Besides the four destroyed towers, each of the nine remaining towers was opened to worshipers of the Echos. Priests of the nine held worship in a manner personal to the Echo. Iylana, for instance, focused more on personal worship and allowed her priest to engage in individual conversations with those in need. On the other hand, other Echoes enjoyed sermons delivered by one of the priests or sacrifices to the Echos during the peak of the sun or in the dead of night under the moonlight. Marius had noticed that Sorana preferred worship in the dead of night, where her priests held communion. Regardless of the specific rite, anyone was welcome to participate in or simply observe the worship. Reza had personally visited each Echo tower during his life and had participated in a few of the rituals.

  Reza was suddenly jolted from his thoughts by a hand grasping his backside and a soft, feminine voice whispering in his ear. “You’d think an officer wouldn’t let someone sneak up on them.”

  Reza turned around to see a uniformed Sabine laughing as she retreated to lean against one of the pillars surrounding the tower grounds. A mischievous smile spread across her face, and Reza couldn’t help but join her. He kept his eyes fixed on the black gates, however.

  “Well, I would expect my allies to have my back and not try to show how sneaky they are,” he remarked with a smile. “What brings you here? I thought you’d be back with your Legion.”

  She shrugged. “We’re waiting for exactly what you are. The family has worked it out with the Legion. If they have enough influence, you’ll see more than a few people getting leave.”

  It was a stupid question, but it was an obvious answer when it was spelled out to him. The families were likely calling in debts left and right to get their best members into the city for the contest for one of the world’s most powerful positions. Luck had been on Reza’s side, and the Sulli situation had fallen into his lap that morning, so he extended his leave by several weeks. Had he not, it wouldn’t have been an option for him; he had no such connections to call upon to get released like Sabine. He wasn’t jealous or angry towards Sabine for her family doing it; that was how Arkhen worked.

  “Of course, I wonder how long we’ll have to wait,” Reza mused. He didn’t have anything significant to do with the weeks of leave he had left. But there were several reasons to have this done sooner rather than later. First, with the likelihood of war in the near future, having another Archon would boost the city’s morale. Secondly, Reza was simply impatient. Counting the seconds, minutes, and hours until something happened felt like torture, and he would rather be doing something than waiting.

  Sabine chuckled, and Reza glanced over to her. “Don’t worry; I expect us to wait less than a quarter-hour for the Priests to exit the tower.” She elaborated.

  “And how do you know this?” Reza asked, not surprised that her family possessed such information. It was likely that someone within her family or an ally was a priest for Sorana, who had inadvertently let the information slip to them.

  “My family has at least one member in every church of the Echoes. My uncle serves Sorana. He informed me this morning that the announcement would be made shortly after midday.”

  Reza’s thoughts were confirmed. However, he was also slightly surprising that the Rewans had members in every church, especially considering that most families were bound to a single Echo when choosing a church. While most priests came from noble families, it wasn’t always the case. Anyone could attempt to join, but those who did abandon their family name, though this was merely a practice, maintained close ties with their families and provided information when necessary. Reza even had a few cousins in the church of Iylana, but none were close enough for him to ask them to leak information.

  If Reza required information, he was more likely to pay for it; placing a family member in the right positions was an intriguing prospect. He could be assured that the information collected would be accurate, and there was a certain level of locality involved. However, the moral dilemma of a family joining one of the churches for such practices was a unique and thought-provoking topic. Reza couldn’t help but wonder what the Echoes thought about this. Another question arose: was the Rewans the only family that engaged in such practices? Reza doubted it.

  “What’s on your mind, Marius?” Sabine asked, clearly intrigued.

  Startled by her using his first name, Reza took a moment to compose himself before responding. He wasn’t foolish enough to reveal his thoughts.

  “Nothing. Did your uncle tell you about the contest?” he asked curiously. “I suppose not, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “He couldn’t. He can only stretch his oath so far,” she replied. “He did mention that usually, Sorana participates in a physical contest. The last one was an intense race around the border of Arkhen. It took Marcellus four days to fight and travel through the field before he crossed the finish line to win.”

  Reza nodded, knowing he could easily participate in a race. It would be the ideal contest to showcase his skills; very few individuals within the city and Legions could outpace him with Elana. However, the Echo, despite her benevolence, was unlikely to choose the same contest again. Reza was reasonably certain that the Echoes rarely selected the same contest twice or several cycles before using it to identify their new Archon.

  Reza contemplated his options. It seemed to be a psychic contest that wasn’t a race, hinting at fighting or possibly a measure of strength. Regardless, it was preferable to a puzzle, which was far from being a strength.

  “Are you joining the contest?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Sabine, too, knew his path, but it was best to ask.

  “Of course, I think multiple family members will participate. I know my brother is in the crowd, ready to pledge his allegiance.” She said, her face darkening when she mentioned her brother.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Lucius, I didn’t realize he was back in the city,” Reza scowled, his anger rising at the mention of her brother’s name. “I hope he jumps off a cliff.”

  The man was a few years younger than both of them but had already been promoted to centurion through his father’s patronage. Despite this, Lucius wasn’t shy about rubbing it in their faces. Reza couldn’t do anything about it because of the vastly different social and military ranks. It galled Reza to hold his tongue against the man. Lucius had always been resentful that he wasn’t the heir and tried to undermine Sabine in any way he could.

  “Father always doted on him, and he continued to do so this morning when we met. But at least I can have the last laugh in this contest,” she said, her voice almost growling.

  “Hopefully, the contest will provide an opportunity for one of us to smash his face in,” Reza replied.

  Thankfully, Reza’s thoughts were interrupted as the black gate opened, and the crowd’s anticipation grew. Reza held his breath as two figures emerged behind the gate, dressed in robes of the deepest black he had ever seen. One was an older woman with stark white hair, exuding an aura of power and superiority that spoke volumes about her high-ranking position within the church of Sorana. The man accompanying her was young, around Reza and Sabine’s age. His brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a tiny yellow wraith, hunched over and using a walking stick, floated behind him.

  “It appears the time has come,” Reza said, standing tall to observe the crowd pushing closer to the priest. They didn’t get far before sliver-armored guards emerged from within the tower and formed a line, blocking the crowd around a small dais where the young man stepped onto with the women following behind. Glancing back at the white-haired priestess, she granted her consent. Turning back, the young priest raised his hands in a gesture of silence, and it took only moments for the forum to fall silent. They waited on bated breath for what he had to say.

  “Arkhenites, our lady Sorana has concluded her mourning for Marcellus Sulli, though she will never forget her Archons. I request a moment of silence for our fallen leader.” The man’s voice seemed to emanate from right in front of Reza, as if he were speaking directly to him, rather than hundreds of feet away. Every word carried a hint of power, suggesting a natural talent for oratory. Sorana had found the ideal power to wield within her church.

  Everyone bowed their heads, with Reza following suit. Taking a moment to compose himself, Reza uttered a quiet prayer. Marcellus, you will be remembered as a man who fought to the very end, embodying the qualities of a true hero. You sacrificed your life to save Lukas and brought immense honor to yourself, your family, and our city.

  Reza raised his head, scanning the crowd. Many still bowed their heads, with several wraith pilgrims kneeling in deep prayer. For a brief moment, most people had finished their prayers and waited patiently for the man to continue. He allowed the seconds to pass, allowing the silence to grow longer until the crowd leaned in closer, eagerly awaiting his words.

  “Thank you. Our Lady Sorana has taken the time to deliberate on her decision regarding the selection of her next pact wielder.” He paused once more, and the crowd around the gate began whispering among themselves. He gave them a moment to speculate before resuming his speech.

  “Sorana, in her profound wisdom, has announced a grand contest of arms. Any Arkenite who desires the opportunity to become her pact wielder may place their name on the rolls to participate in the competition. The first bouts will commence in two days.” Reza stepped down from the dais, leaving the crowd to erupt into lively discussions.

  Reza’s heart raced with excitement as he heard the words. Dueling was the contest he had been waiting for, and he was determined to perform well. A smile spread across his face as he imagined the clash of blades and the battle of wraiths against wraiths. He knew he would face formidable opponents, but he relished the challenge.

  As he made his way through the crowd, Reza noticed that many people had gathered around several stone tables, where priests were seated. Men and women were already adding their names to the rolls, forming lines before the tables. Sabine, who had been ahead of him, turned to him.

  “Well, let’s go add our names,” she said. Reza followed closely behind, trying not to lose sight of her. However, Sabine was incredibly agile and could move through groups with ease, leaving Reza to lag behind.

  “Sabine, wait!” Reza called out. Fortunately, Sabine heard him and stopped, allowing him to catch up. “Thanks. We don’t have to rush. Our names will be added to the rolls.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sabine replied. “I want to make sure I’m in.” She explained that she had a strange energy that Reza knew was connected to her brother. However, Reza chose not to comment and they continued to push through the crowd.

  While Reza knew that hundreds, if not thousands, of people would join the competition, he also knew that the vast majority would not. As they made their way through the crowd, Reza noticed that many people were chatting excitedly about the upcoming entertainment or leaving to get on with their lives after hearing the news.

  Finally, Reza broke through the crowd and joined one of several lines. Men and women chatted and laughed as they waited to sign up for the rolls. Some were soldiers, while others wore well-tailored clothes suggesting noble birth. However, Reza also noticed several people dressed in rags or dusty work clothes, having just returned from their farm. It would be an intriguing group of people fighting for honor.

  Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait long as the lines moved swiftly. Before long, they were seated at different tables. The older Priestess Reza had seen standing with the orator was now sitting behind the table, her eyes fixed on him. Up close, the block robes were almost unnaturally dark, and uncomfortable to look at for any length of time. It felt as if anyone touching the fabric would fall into the abyss of the void and never return.

  “Name, child,” the priestess asked in a husky voice. The deep-set dark circles under her grey eyes and the weariness in her gaze suggested she had been awake for days. Yet, her voice remained unwavering.

  “Marius Reza,” he bowed.

  “Show me your wraith,” she bluntly demanded.

  “Beg your pardon,” he apologized.

  “Our lady Sorana has ordered that every contestant must have a wraith,” she dryly replied. So, be a dear and show me yours

  I didn’t like this. He detested bringing Elana out unless absolutely necessary. It always felt wrong for him to summon her to join without a valid reason. She had consistently expressed her disdain for it. He was certain she would give him a well-deserved glare when she discovered the purpose of her summoning.

  He pulled on the power within, and she materialized beside him. It took only moments for him to expected expression he expected. I’ll be haunted by this for days. Perhaps the intense battles we’ll endure during this will compensate for it, and she’ll eventually forgive me.

  He mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and nodded to the woman. Elana gazed at him for a few more moments before turning her attention to the lady and offering her the same.

  She chuckled, nodding to Elana. “A spirited one; perhaps you’ll excel in the contest then. My esteemed Wraith, kindly place your hand on this stone.”

  The priestess indicated a large, cylindrical black stone resting on the table before her.

  “What is the purpose of this stone?” Reza asked cautiously. He detested having Elana involved in any activities and would promptly leave if he sensed any danger.

  “It possesses no harmful properties. We need to ascertain if she and you possess sufficient power to participate in the contest. We anticipate numerous individuals will be interested in joining the fighting, but we must ensure to eliminate those unsuited for the level of competition. There will be limitations and protections within the contest, and we hope for no fatalities, but that expectation cannot be entirely disregarded, so we will only permit the strongest to enter. Now, would you both kindly place your hands on the stone?”

  Reza turned to Elana, who still held her glare but nodded and placed her hand on his. He felt a surge of power coursing through his veins before it dissipated, and an ethereal black glow emanated from the stone.

  “Excellent,” she wrote his name into the roll. “You will be placed in the second bout on the first day. Be at the stadium by the ninth hour. You will be paired with fifty other opponents, and the last five standing without three marks will advance to the next round.”

  “Marks?” Reza asked as he released his power, allowing Elana to vanish. The first round would be challenging, with fifty fighters to manage. Any information he gained or imparted would be crucial in his survival.

  “Sorana will mark everyone with an item that will serve…” The priestess fell silent, her eyes glowing softly.

  Bloody Echoes. Reza, bewildered by the situation, took a cautious step forward around the table, concerned for the priestess’s well-being. Seeking assistance, he noticed multiple individuals gazing at the priestess, but none of the other priests appeared concerned and continued their duties. Murmurs rippled behind him from the line, but no one approached to offer help. Reza waited helplessly, his hopes dwindling as he realized he might not be able to assist.

  Several seconds passed with the priestess frozen, her eyes glowing while she held her breath. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned to face him with genuine interest. “Sorana has told me that you already have an item in your possession that will work. The shadow gem you hold will be your mark, serving as your entrance into the contest and a way to prevent your death. Be sure to keep it close.”

  Reza nodded, stepping back. He wasn’t sure how he felt about what had just happened. Sorana had communicated with the priestess about him. Brushing his fingers across the black gem in the stealth of his new sword, he realized he hadn’t had time to delve deeper into his questions about the gem and the sword’s power. Fortunately, the research would be easier now that he knew its name. Unfortunately, asking the priestess about the shadow gem wasn’t an option now, as hundreds of people were waiting in line. He’d have to wait for another time.

  “What do the marks do?” he asked.

  “The mark will indicate when you’ve been hit three times during the contest. Don’t worry; it’ll be obvious when you or your opponents have been hit. When that happens, don’t continue fighting, or you may be disqualified during the entrance round or face other consequences,” she said, coughing into a cloth and motioning the next person to step forward. She dismissed Reza in the same instance.

  “As you say, I’ll be there,” Reza said, retreating and joining Sabine as she left her table. “What about you? What are you in?”

  “Fourth, I’m not a big fan of the fifty fighters. That increases the likelihood of many skilled fighters being eliminated early if people focus on them,” She remarked. “What about you? What tournament are you participating in?”

  “Second, but there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ll have to be cautious. However, I’m certain you’ll do exceptionally well,” Reza said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go get a drink; I’m in dire need of one after today. As for the rest, we’ll simply let the coins fall where they may.”

  Sabine chuckled as they left the forum and the hopefuls behind.