The amount of people in this hall was at least over fifty, and probably close to triple digits. There were two long tables and chairs, but for the most part everyone seemed content to stand. Many of them were near the wall, eye-balling anyone who came near.

  “Hoy, Rani!” waved one exception. Occuping one of the tables were Clive and many of the men Rani had seen with him before. Some were gone, though. The aftermath of some downsizing, maybe.

  Rani sat down. Anyone who hadn’t been looking at them before was now. “Nervous?” Clive asked. “Then again, I’m sure you’ve seen crowds like this before out east.”

  They nodded back. “Business as usual,” the soldier said, thruthfully. “Battles there didn’t have this much ceremony, though.”

  “Ah, you’re right there,” Clive admitted. “It’s always seemed a bit much to me, to tell the truth, especially when it’s for a guest of honor who’s never shown his face.”

  “Leovold, right?” Rani asked, slipping back into the unaware foreigner role. “Supposedly the winner may end up becoming his rider.”

  Clive half-rolled his eyes. “You know, that’s always been a perfect enough sell to me I’m shocked someone besides a merchant came up with it. I’ve been coming to this event since I was a lad, and do you know what we always saw when someone won?” He snorted. “Someone having their arm held up and whisked away from the audience’s eyes.”

  That made sense to Rani. If you had a one-of-a-kind anything, showing it off to the public on a guaranteed date every year was asking for problems. Letting him get damaged was probably a bad omen at best.

  “So, you don’t think he exists?” Rani asked.

  Clive’s eyes darted around, but no-one had heard them above the noise except his own men. “Not sure either way, to tell the truth. I’ve seen him second-hand: little statuettes, woodcuts, and I hear there’s a few fine portraits of him in this castle.” He shook his head. “But I’ve never seen him. No-one in this country has for generations, except for the winners of this and those in high office.”

  “You think they’re in on a lie?” Rani asked, finding they were genuinely curious.

  “Oh, I don’t think anything, believe me,” Clive said firmly. “Very bad business for a merchant to start thinking much about matters like that. I just know what I’ve seen, and what other people haven’t.”

  Rani nodded. “If you win today, you could find out yourself.”

  Clive shrugged. “I suppose. Frankly, whether he exists or not doesn’t affect my affairs one coin’s worth. My family has made their business around Runic Knights almost as long as Leovold has been absent. Whether he’s really down there or not, people will always need what we have to sell.”

  He broke into a smile. “But for the laymen, oh, aren’t they selling something wonderful! ‘Leovold will only respond to a Rider of incomparable skill and character’,” the merchant said in mock reverence. “More than a few people here know deep down that it couldn’t be them…but what if it was? There’s no better product than one that can make people think like that.”

  It was logic that would make a lot of people want to punch him between the eyes, but it made sense. “Do you think anyone here could wake him up?” Rani asked casually.

  “Would be funny if they could, eh?” Clive reached over and patted them on the shoulder. “Since they’re going to end up disappointed.”

  ---

  “You sure this is the right place for a fledgling like you, boy?”

  Richard stood where he was, trying to ignore the taunt. That damned Clive and that noble from the knight school were obvious targets, but why mess with groups that big? If you wanted to pass some time, picking on a squire by his lonesome was much safer.

  “You’re dressed too nice to be from the wilds,” the man muttered again, ignoring being ignored. He didn’t look as savage as some of the others in the room, but he had an intensity to his eyes that made you want to look away. “Some junior knight working here, eh?”

  Richard still said nothing.

  The man scoffed. “Not fit to speak to, am I? I suppose they taught you ‘proper manners’ here. Probably the only thing the play knights get to practice in a soppy kingdom like this.”

  Having his master and the other knights insulted was something Richard might have laughed off. Insulting Levenia at the same time was a different matter. He whirled on the rider, raising his fists.

  “Don’t like that?” the man grinned. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Break his face, was what. No-one talked that way about this castle’s knights if Richard had anything to say about it. He’d-

  Just wondering if you gave yourself time to think it through, that’s all.

  Richard didn’t know why he remembered them, but the words were like cold water being thrown over him. He inhaled, lowered his hands, and stepped back to where he was. “Go find someone else, will you? I’m not falling for it.”

  The foreign rider sneered. “No guts, huh?”

  “Funny thing to say,” Richard said after a moment, “when you’re so scared of competition you’re trying to get someone disqualified. Now shove off.”

  Was that a snicker that came from nearby? The tables turned, then, as this time the man snarled. “Say that again, you little whelp,” he hissed, stepping closer. “If we weren’t in this castle, I’d wring your neck for that, and-”

  The doors to the room swung open. One of the castle’s knights paused as dozens of pairs of eyes moved toward him. “The Royale will commence very soon,” he declared. “Please exit through the end of this corridor, and be prepared to present yourself before His Majesty and Leonhold’s citizens.”

  ---

  In the castle’s rear courtyard was a space for special events or performances, which was always used for the Lightning Royale. Anyone could come to spectate for a reasonable fee, and for that purpose simple benches had been prepared. Also present was raised, covered seating for Leonhold’s nobles, officials, and important guests.

  There were some things Basil enjoyed watching from this point, but the Royale had never been one of them. He remembered being terrified during some of the previous battles when he was younger, and didn’t feel (too) embarrassed about it. The riders in them always fought with enough savagery you couldn’t shrug it off as a pretend battle. People getting hurt in the Royale was all-too-common, and even if watching showed respect Basil had never felt completely comfortable being the audience for it.

  That wasn’t he only reason he disliked this time of year, though. When it came to musical performances or plays, it was typically him and his father alone up here as far as nobles went (and, depending on the content of the performance, sometimes just him). But today could decide Leovold’s rider, and no-one with any influence was going to risk missing the reemergence of Lavenia’s Runic Lord. Especially not the second-greatest power in Lavenia.

  “Nearly noon, I think,” Roland commented pleasantly. “Should be underway soon.”

  Duke Grant Aquila nodded happily. “I’m quite interested in this year’s proceedings. From what I’ve heard there were quite a few dangerous faces coming over the border this year.” Compared to his cousin, Grant was much lankier, and had a far more even temper. His features were also softer, with blonde hair that contrasted Roland’s red. Basil had never spoken much with him, but he had always seemed pleasant enough.

  “I often feel a bit bad during this event, personally,” a refined voice spoke from a few chairs down, next to Leonhold’s prince. “Just looking at some of the people who traveled here is enough to tell you they can’t possibly be as fortunate as our citizens.”

  This was Heath Aquila, Grant’s son. He had inherited his father’s soft, handsome looks, and his well-spoken nature. So long as, Basil had always felt, you ignored much of what he actually said.

  Heath was seated next to Basil, and turned at the sound of a scoff next to him. “They’re men who earn their way with the own two hands, outside safety. You should spare your sympathy for others, brother.”

  The young Aquila smiled politely. “One of these years you really must participate, sister. It would be quite a sight to see you join in the fun of our sister city’s finest event.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Friede Aquila was Grant’s other and oldest child, who looked quite unlike her father. If Grant had soft features and Roland had hard ones, hers was practically sharp, including a pair of piercing eyes and arched eyebrows. She had never said a negative word to Basil before, but nothing she’d done had led the Prince to believe she was fond of him, either.

  “If I change my mind, brother, you will be the first to know,” Friede said calmly, her eyes flicking over to her siblings briefly. “Until then, I am content to watch.”

  “Of course, sister, of course,” Heath said, wilting ever so slightly. “It’s very kind of you to give the common warriors their space.”

  He suddenly turned and gave Basil a happy smile. “I’m sure our cousin here would do the same if you were in that position, wouldn’t you, Basil?”

  It was a harmless enough comment at face-value that Basil would be the one who ended up looking bad if he made a fuss. He nodded back, smiling. “Of course. I doubt I’d come close to winning, but I’m sure the people of Leonhold would love to see me out there - if things were different.”

  Before Heath could say anything more, a trumpet sounded.

  ---

  Rani heard the music as the side-gate opened, unable to suppress a frown. They’d never been in a parade, but this was probably close, wasn’t it? Walking out in front of people who couldn’t have picked you out of a crowd hadn’t sounded appealing back then, and it sounded even worse when you were a complete stranger.

  But there was no getting out of it now, and the competitors pushed through the door in single file as the guard waved them through. As they rounded the corner and came into view of the stands, Rani craned their neck to get a glimpse of what must have been Leonhold’s royalty. The king certainly looked the part.

  Sitting right there as a crowd full of foreign soldiers filed in front of you was pretty bold, Rani had to admit. They’d been patted down in the castle, and there were soldiers and Runic Knights standing guard nearby, but anyone really determined to make an attempt on the king’s life could probably find some way to sneak a weapon in. If Rani had thought of this, though, others probably had, so it wasn’t a half-bad way of looking brave. Maybe someone had even tried and failed.

  The trumpets were still blaring, and now a short, chubbier man was stepping up to face the stands as a whole. “Ladies and gentlemen of Leonhold!” he bellowed strongly. “Today marks another year since last, and the time has come to show respect and thanks to Lavenia’s Runic Lord: Leovold, the Duke of Lightning!”

  The people in the stands gave a collective cheer, the kind with inertia behind it. “These warriors from near and far have come here today to offer respect in their own way - one might say the most appropriate way for a Runic Lord! Please, bid them welcome!”

  Another cheer as the group was directed in front of the royalty’s seats. Rani tried to block them out. No names were shouted, so it was like the competition itself was being cheered for rather than anyone in it. Maybe that would change during the battle itself.

  “Before you stands King Roland Lavenia, and the Crown Prince, Basil Lavenia,” the announcer went on, “together with delegates from Leonhold’s sister city, Avistead. The King shall speak with you now!”

  He drew back as Roland stood up to his full height. Rani had to admit, he definitely had a presence to him. “Well met, all of you!” he cried, sweeping his gaze among the competitors. “Some of you I recognize from the previous year, while others are new. For the second, I bid you welcome to my kingdom, and hope you found the journey worthwhile.”

  Roland folded his arms. “All of you have your own reasons for joining this competition today, I’m sure, and I won’t question what they are. Any reason to fight is a fine one as long as it motivates you, and battle is one of the finest equalizers.” He grinned. “A sword or a crossbow doesn’t care who you are, especially if it belongs to a Runic Knight.”

  He leaned forward, clapping his great hands on the wooden rail before him. “And neither does Leovold, whatever anyone might tell you. He took on a Rider before Lavenia had even become a kingdom, back when the most a human could amount to was an uncertain life under the rule of another case.”

  So far the only non-human Rani had seen in this world was Emrick. There were foreign pilots here, but still only foreign humans. Maybe there was a reason for that.

  “Even in these times of peace, it’s important for us all to stick together, I think,” Roland went on. “If any of you impress us, and you feel like changing who you fight for, you may end up becoming a permanent resident of one of our grand cities.” He grinned. “And who knows? Someone else may make you an offer as well!”

  The crowd was roaring their approval, but no-one near Rani looked terribly impressed. It was probably good that the King waved his hand to the side. “Now then, I’ve taken enough of you and my people’s time, I’m sure. I yield the floor to Laius, Leonhold’s finest mage, to explain the Lightning Royale’s rules.”

  Rani turned along with everyone else. Approaching was a well-dressed man who looked like a non-combatant, but didn’t walk like one. Behind him were two soldiers, carting something on a pedestal.

  Laius strode out into the field, not looking at the competitors, and stopped exactly in the middle of all the stands. “Good day to you,” he called, though not with the booming voice Roland had given. “Before we begin, could I trouble upon you all to summon your Runic Knights? It will make things simpler for me.”

  Some of the competitors around Rani exchanged glances. They could guess what the collective thought was: there was no way they could fight in this small a space unless it was one-on-one, and that would take days. Even so, no-one seemed to want to second guess a mage. They spread out, some moving in deeper for more room.

  As they did so, Laius turned to fiddle with what was on the pedestal. He certainly had the time. Even if everyone knew what size their Runic Knight was, there was still plenty of pushing, shoving and dirty looks.

  Once they’d found a space large enough, Rani retrieved the Vanguard’s gem. As they removed it from their pack, they were positive that Laius suddenly looked up, directly at them. It was only for a moment, not even long enough to consider looking away, before he was back to work. Odd.

  Transporting the Vanguard worked fine again, fortunately. Seeing this many Runic Knights appearing was probably quite the sight. It was certainly one after Rani was finished and took a look around. They’d been a part of forces larger than this, but not ones where almost every unit was unique.

  Climbing inside the Vanguard, Rani stood it up at about the same time as everyone else. Another cheer came from the crowd. “Yes, thank you,” Laius said vaguely, holding his hands above the pedestal.

  From this vantage point, Rani had a clear look at what he’d brought out with him: some type of nature diorama set under glass. It showed a tree-filled area with no sign of civilization, and a mountain in the center. On one side was a decent-sized lake.

  Whatever he was doing with the display, Laius finished in enough time for the competitors to be close to impatience. “There,” he called, his voice rising in volume similar to how Constance’s had. “I apologize for the wait. Tuning this to so many Runic Gems always takes some time.”

  The sorcerer gestured to the display. “This will be your battlefield today.”

  This didn’t get the reaction Rani would have expected, which was anything but the acceptance it did. Everyone present either understood what he was talking about, or accepted it because the others had. All except one: a pilot close by Rani couldn’t help letting out part of a snicker, amplified by his knight’s gem.

  “Yes?” Laius asked calmly, turning to look at the unfortunate one. The knights near him made space. “Is there a problem?”

  “Well, er,” the pilot said, caught off-guard. “Seems a bit, uh, small, is all.”

  The sorcerer raised one eyebrow. “Ah, is that all? A perfectly fine question.”

  He raised one hand slowly, pointing right at the speaker’s Runic Knight. From out of the diorama came a sharp, thin beam no wider than a finger. When it touched the knight, the machine vanished, leaving nothing but an empty space.

  Rani remained still. If that had been murder, no-one was reacting to it. Laius kept his finger outstretched a moment longer, and then thrust it into the air. The diorama reacted again, producing several dots of light that rose far above the stands. At a certain height they grew and stretched, each becoming a glowing surface in the air that rippled like a pond. Soon enough all of them were showing a different image, as clearly as a video broadcast. It was the insides of the diorama, from the lake’s shore to the mountain’s top.

  In one of the ‘cameras’ was the Runic Knight that had disappeared, currently in the process of getting up off its behind. Laius leaned over. “Thank you for volunteering for any newcomers,” he called down politely, before looking back to the competitors as a whole. “As you can see, this model is many times larger on the inside than it appears. I won’t trouble you with the specifics of it, and you can rest assured that nothing about it will go wrong.”

  ‘Won’t’, and not ‘can’t’, Rani couldn’t help noticing.

  “Once you are inside and the event commences, you will fight until there is only one rider left standing,” Laius went on smoothly. “A rider will be considered eliminated when their Runic Knight’s head is removed, or the space deems it incapable of fighting in general.” His smile turned glassy. “I should note, of course, that while the Lightning Royale is certainly not to the death, accidents can and have happened before.”

  His gaze swept across the competitors as he let that sink in for a moment. “That said,” the sorcerer added with a sudden, glassy smile, “the powers that be of Lavenia will be watching this battle, and whether something is accident or intent will be entirely up to their discretion. I would suggest leaving any grudges behind for the time being.”

  No-one here had any real grudge against Rani, at the moment. But the idea someone could cause an ‘accident’ and get away with it was worth keeping in mind. It could easily come up - especially if they’d made the right preparations.

  “Any further questions?” Laius asked politely. No-one seemed to have any, at least ones they were comfortable asking. The sorcerer nodded. “Very well, then. Please, hold still.”

  He spread his arms quickly, and brought them together in a great clap. The case came to life again, this time firing the tiny beams in all directions. Any Runic Knight they hit disappeared as quickly as the first.

  Rani’s Vanguard was sitting further down, giving them a brief moment to shut their eyes and inhale. Time to finally begin. They breathed outward, opening their eyes-

  ---

  And beheld a batch of thick, tall trees, growing in number ahead as the ground sloped downward. Behind them was a sheer rock wall. Near the mountain, then, for as much as that narrowed it down. No-one was visible nearby.

  Rani risked a glance upward. There was a real sky overhead, fortunately. The sun was out, but with plenty of clouds. Could it rain in here?

  Laius’s voice suddenly came through, sounding like it was all around them. “Everyone seems to have made it across in one piece,” he said jovially. “I hope this little space is to all of your liking. I try to make something different each year, for variety’s sake and to keep the playing field equal.”

  As he went on, Rani drew the Vanguard’s sword, checking their systems. Nothing seemed to be broken. The gem’s radar had switched on again, glowing in the corner.

  The next voice to come across from the ‘real’ world was King Roland’s. “Can you all hear me? There’s not much I can say that Laius hasn’t, beyond - good luck!” There was a pause.

  “As King of Leonhold, I declare this year’s Lightning Royale, OPEN!”

  Time to go.