King Rega stood at the center of the royal box, the deafening echoes of the crowd's cheers barely registering. His gaze was fixed on the small, heavy, roughly shaped stone held carefully by a servant—an Affinity Stone his artisans had quickly modified to resemble the magnificent, flawless Sunstone that was the true prize. The fake pulsed faintly with a dull, low-frequency à?? detection spell. It was the bait.

  Standing rigidly on either side of him were Kenya and Zuri, his elite bodyguards, their obsidian armor polished to a mirrored sheen.

  A rustle of robes announced an arrival. "My King, may I enter?" Jabara's calm, melodic voice asked from the entrance to the box.

  "Of course, High Seer," Rega said, his tone perfectly measured.

  Jabara swept in, executing a flawless, low bow. "My King, the dwarf is ready in position for the ceremony to begin. The attendants are waiting for your signal."

  "Excellent," Rega replied, allowing a thin, satisfied smile.

  "If I may ask a question, my King," Jabara requested, maintaining her respectful posture.

  Rega looked at her, his smile tightening. He knew Jabara rarely asked trivial questions. "Speak, High Seer."

  "Why exactly do you still pursue the Green à??born?" Jabara asked, choosing her words with careful neutrality. "He has dispatched the assassin that the followers of Iku sent—Silas, who was meant to be a thorn in your side. If the dwarf is indeed the à??born, should he not be celebrated as a potential ally?"

  Rega scoffed, a deep, dismissive sound that rumbled in his chest. "It doesn't matter, Jabara, because I was never in any danger. My bodyguards here," he inclined his head toward Kenya and Zuri, "would have killed him before he ever got the chance."

  Jabara remained unperturbed. "Still, my King, it only seems the à??born may even be inclined to help defeat the followers of Iku, if we play our cards right."

  Rega’s eyes narrowed, a cold glint replacing the satisfaction. He was growing suspicious of the conversation's trajectory.

  "That à??born broke into a lab and stole an experiment," Rega said, his tone hardening, each word a slow, deliberate pronouncement. "That experiment had the potential to save this kingdom. Do you really think I should let go of a person who has no regard for whether this kingdom lives or dies?"

  He leaned forward, his frame radiating silent intimidation. "Do you think I should let anyone do what they want, as long as they feel like it's the right thing to do?"

  Jabara looked at him. It was not the Kingdom’s safety that mattered; it was control.

  "If I let that Green à??born go free," Rega continued, his voice low and threatening, "the next time we have a machine running that can revitalize the farmland—just what do you think he'll do? Let it go. He's already proven that he can't be trusted, and I don't give people the chance to betray me twice, especially if my kingdom and reign will be at risk."

  King Rega fixed his gaze on Jabara with intense, crystalline eyes, holding the High Seer's attention completely, as if the last sentence was more about her than anyone else.

  Jabara bowed deeply, dipping her head until her silver hair brushed her shoulder. "I understand, my King. Your reasoning is beyond sound." The mocking tone in her voice was almost imperceptible, hidden beneath layers of formal deference. "Then it really is most prudent that you get more of those experiments running. I have done a divination, and the spread of the mushroom blight and failing crops will spread further. If I may be so bold, I think it wise to leave at once after the ceremony. There really is no time to waste."

  Rega's expression relaxed slightly, appeased by her submission and urgent advice. "Oh yes, I intend to leave the day after the ceremony. I have already dispatched scouts ahead of me." He paused, his smile returning, cold and predatory. "If I didn't draw him out here with this tournament, then perhaps the dying screams of a dozen Dryads will bring that à??born out."

  Jabara's eyes widened momentarily at the King's monstrous statement. She quickly covered the reaction with another deep bow. "I must go, my King. The masses are restless."

  As Jabara swept out of the royal box, the King watched her retreat until she was out of sight.

  "I thought perhaps I would be able to use Jabara to sway the masses one way or another, but she is far too clever," Rega murmured to his bodyguards.

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  "Perhaps her Orisha is what told her of our plans," Zuri suggested flatly.

  King Rega glared at the bodyguard. "I am not in the mood for jokes right now. Come. We must go start the ceremony for the Sunstone Tournament."

  High Seer Jabara stepped onto the gilded podium, her robes shimmering as she faced the vast, turbulent crowd. She raised her hands, and the cheers instantly subsided, replaced by a charged silence. Her voice, amplified by wind à??, resonated across the arena.

  "People of the Kingdom! We have witnessed trials of strength, courage, and cunning! Now, let us honor our champions of the Sunstone Tournament!"

  She began with a practiced cadence. "The third-place winner, demonstrating discipline and grace under pressure, hailing from the ranks of the royal guard—Lia of the Greenwater!"

  A decent, if slightly muted, cheer rose for Lia. Leonotis, disguised once more in his heavy, dark Lia armor, strode onto the podium. He had carefully followed Jabara’s instruction, giving the Ada Ogun back to the tournament attendants moments before the ceremony so it could be officially presented.

  An attendant presented the wooden sword, the replica now officially a ceremonial prize, resting on a velvet cushion. Leonotis accepted the sword, nodding his gratitude.

  In the royal box, King Rega applauded with measured enthusiasm. He watched as Lia accepted the sword, his suspicion of the guard momentarily quieted by the public ritual.

  "In second place," Jabara continued, her voice hardening slightly, "the champion who battled to the last breath, but was unfortunately lost to the rigors of the final match: Silas!"

  A tense murmur went through the crowd. Jabara quickly cut in. "The prize money due to Silas shall be split between our first and third-place champions!"

  "And finally!" Jabara’s voice swelled, building to a crescendo. "The champion who defied expectation, who wielded brute force with unwavering courage, the winner of the Sunstone Tournament and its grand prize—Grom Stonehand!"

  The crowd erupted into a chaotic, joyous roar, chanting the dwarf’s name. Low, swaggering perfectly in her heavy Grom disguise, climbed the steps, her battered armor clanking. She reached the center of the podium where the prize—the fake Sunstone—awaited.

  Low reached out a gloved hand, but the attendant holding the stone spoke, his voice carrying clearly in the brief lull of the crowd. "The King commands, champion, that you accept the grand prize without your armored leather gloves."

  Low hesitated for a fraction of a second, then shrugged with Grom’s trademark theatricality. She pulled off her thick, armored gauntlets, revealing her smaller, scarred hands. She then gripped the stone with both hands.

  King Rega stood from his seat in the royal box, leaning over the balcony’s edge, making sure he had a perfect, unobstructed view. He waited for the stone to flare, to react, to detect the deep, life-giving surge of Green à??.

  The Sunstone did nothing. It remained dull and inert in the dwarf’s hands.

  King Rega’s eyes widened slightly, the shock visible only to those looking closely. He was wrong. The Affinity Stone was calibrated to detect the strongest source of à??. He could hardly believe it—the Green à??born hadn't been in the tournament after all. Perhaps he stayed as a face in the crowd? Rega's mind worked in overdrive, rapidly recalculating where he had gone wrong.

  For a split second, Rega's eyes darted toward the High Seer. He caught Jabara looking directly back at him, her expression confirming his failure. He calmed himself instantly, masking his fury with a benign smile as he nodded for the ceremony to conclude.

  Low was presented with her prize and Leonotis stood beside her. As the champions descended the podium and began walking through the fighters' hallway toward the palace exits, Rega remained standing, his hands gripping the railing.

  Kenya and Zuri stood rigidly by the King's side, ready for command. Rega looked at the two in his mind and suddenly realized: The à??born may not be the dwarf, but the dwarf had to be involved.

  "I will have the undead guards doubled around the Royal Dungeons immediately," Rega muttered, then called out sharply, "Zuri! Kenya!"

  "Yes, my King," the two replied in unison.

  "I want you to follow that dwarf. Find where he's going to stay. If you see that they aren't what they seem—if they drop their disguise, or if they rendezvous with anyone suspicious—kill them. I expect you both back in time to get on the Sky Citadel with me. I will be leaving tomorrow for the expedition to the Dark Forest."

  Rega watched the dwarf and the girl moved with haste, weaving through the thick, excited crowds clogging the fighters' hallway.

  They disappeared around a corner.

  King Rega remained standing, his face a careful mask of regal benevolence as he watched the exit. The roar of the crowd, still chanting Grom's name but his mind had already dismissed the spectacle.

  "I'm not wrong," he murmured to himself, the noise of the cheering masses dissolving into a distant hum. "I know it... but I must switch gears."

  He had bought time and goodwill with the people with the tournament, but it was all a countdown. Once the masses started to get back to their routines—once they realized they were still hungry, once the casualty reports from the distant borders started to trickle in, once the wars with other countries intensified—they would begin to use up that goodwill he had gained. The cheers would sour, and the questions would start.

  A deep, desperate resolve settled over the King's features, hardening his jaw.

  He would not have this Kingdom fall. He would not allow the hard-won power he wrestled from the hands of the traitorous nobility to dissolve into chaos. He was surrounded by fools and traitors—from the disloyal seer, Jabara, to the corrupting influence of Iku's followers, to the simple, stupid greed of his own court.

  He alone possessed the clarity and will to save this kingdom. It didn't matter how many forest creatures he had to burn, how many labs he had to run, or how many Green à??borns had to be mutilated to do it.

  His gaze swept over the arena one last time, an imperious, unwavering stare. He had failed to trap the Green à??born today, but the variable was accounted for. His bodyguards were on the trail of the dwarf, and Njiru was already at work on Silas's corpse.

  Rega turned from the balcony, a cold, focused determination settling over him. He had a kingdom to save, and a ship to ready.