The Prize of the Sword

Chapter 1

Down, far down below our land, in the raging flames of the Underworld, live the demons. Trapped underground, they yearn to escape the dark confines of their land. Because, though made purely of darkness, the creatures have their own emotions. Anger, hate, sadness, they feel it too. It may seem impossible, but yes, they do. So too can they wish for a better home.

These demons aren’t able to leave the Underworld, but their leaders, the eight Demon Masters, can. These eight lurk about the world, searching, trying to find a chance to open a gate to the Underworld and free the demons of their torturous home below. To do this would take immense power, but the Demon Masters are already planning, and waiting for their chance to allow their kind into our world.

These Demon Masters hold great skill in dark, forbidden magic. If you do, by chance, meet one, do not anger them. Otherwise, terrible consequences could follow.

 

That was a tale that Maisha’s mother used to tell her often, before the disaster.

Sighing, the sixteen-year-old gazed sadly upon her mother’s stick-thin figure sitting on the threadbare daybed in their living room. Her skin was gaunt, stretched over her bones, their shapes showing prominently. Thin, wheezy breaths were drawn through her pale lips, which had not spoken any words since the illness had taken her voice.

As her whole body shook violently with another coughing fit, Maisha knelt down with a small bowl of bread straps—her mother’s breakfast. That was as much as she could afford, being a mere gardener in the Central Park.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get something better for you,” she whispered,” she whispered. Her mother nodded weakly. Standing, she surveyed the tiny room which the two shared. It had just enough for a wardrobe, a table, two shelves and a place for them to sleep. The walls were old and worn outside, but had already withstood more than twenty years of wind and rain. It would do for at least a year longer, wouldn’t it?

A year longer…then what? Suddenly, she felt uncertain, uncertain about everything. Their home was broken, and her mother was inching closer and closer to death.

Why you, Mother? What will you do when you’re…

It was all because of that man. That man, whom Mother had accidentally injured, had in return cursed her with this horrible sickness. She had been recovering fine till winter. Then the cold had struck her so badly that she was burnt half to death by fever. And now, every winter, the cold weakened her more and more, and Maisha feared that by this coming winter, she would no longer be able to hold on any longer.

Her father had died at war when she was eight. Now, seven years later, she had grown used to the pain. But now, her mother as well? Where would she go? How would she live, without the knowledge that her parents were with her? It was already late summer.

Mother’s only thirty-eight. She’s still so young…

Maisha sat at her front door, resting her chin on her hands, elbows on her lap, as she furiously tried to think of a way to keep her alive. Not one of the healers she knew had been able to reverse the curse, and no herbs had worked.

Maybe…maybe I just have to accept what’s coming.

Life had to go on.

Standing, she locked the front door. Then, she began on her way to the Central Park to start her day’s work.

 

Maisha had already been sweeping the leaves up for almost an hour and the sun was already climbing high, shining through the leaves. She brushed her sweaty fringe back, tucking the two braids on either side of her face behind her shoulders before continuing her work.

When, at last, she had swept all the leaves up, she decided to go to her noon break, before she went on a round to water the plants.

Maisha spied someone on one of the benches surrounding the centre fountain. It was unmistakeable; her long, black gown, split halfway on both sides, it was recognisable anywhere. It was Kairn, the one and only!

Maisha had always admired the dark sorceress greatly. She had turned the tides at the recent battle against the more powerful kingdom of Shion, wiping out so many members of the enemy that they had won the battle. She was amazing, and Maisha hero-worshipped her, a symbol of the strength of their tiny island.

Kairn had a reputation for being antisocial, and she lived alone, so Maisha was surprised to see that there was a second person with her on the bench. He was wearing a night-black cloak that completely enveloped his body. Heart racing, she snuck closer to the two, between the bushes, until she was close to the bench.

“I’m sure making it to the finals will be no trouble at all,” Kairn said. She was pale, her eyes long-lashed and beautiful, mysterious looking triangular symbols on her palms.

“We’ll go through it all together,” the man replied, nodding.

Suddenly, Kairn turned back, smiling when she recognised the girl watching them. “Hello there,” she said. “You’re one of those gardeners, aren’t you? I’ve seen you quite a few times.”

“I—y-yes, I am,” Maisha stammered back. She could feel her face growing warmer. “Are you talking about some…er…competition?”

“Ah, you don’t know?” she gasped. “The greatest tournament of the world is coming to the capital, Ilere! It is organised by the six founders—anyone from the kingdom can enter. Thousands attend it every time, and if you don’t know, that is because the prize is anything you want. Yes, it gives you anything that you wish for—the spirit in the Sword of Niethe. The magic of that sword can grant anything you wish for.”

Suddenly, in Maisha’s mind, ideas were beginning to form. Crazy ones that just might work. Anything I want…

“When is it?” she asked.

“A week from now.”

“Why are you telling her this? Kairn?” the man asked. “She’s hardly a fighter.”

“Just in case she wishes to take part,” Kairn answered. Her concern made Maisha even more surprised. She never helps anyone. Why me?

“Oh yes,” Kairn went on, turning back to the gardener. “This here is Serith, one of my friends.” The man folded his arms, frowning at Maisha. Nervously she smiled. 

“Ah, I should be having my lunch!” she gasped, bowing to them before racing off. The noon break hour was ending soon, and she had to report back on time. With the little money she had, she bought herself a whole slice of bread, feeling happier than usual.

Anything I want. Even my mother’s life.

 

As Maisha eagerly went around with a bucket of water, sloshing some over the waving leaves and stalks of the flowers in the beds, she thought about what she would do. First, she would tell her boss that she wanted to leave on a trip. Then, she would leave her mother in her friend Myerne’s care, and somehow stow away on a ship to the capital.

I’m sure I can win if I want to, she thought. She would do it with the magic fan from her mother and the little bit of magic she knew. It didn’t seem much now, but she would improve. I must win this, she told herself. I need to!

 

“Myerne,” Maisha called, knocking on the door of the house. The walls were granite, unlike their tiny hut, and Myerne only worked as a part-time gardener to earn extra money. She was twenty-two and already had a house of her own.

There was the sound of footsteps from inside the house, before the door swung open, and Myerne stood before her, smiling to see her best friend.

“Myerne this is important,” Maisha hurried. “Could you take care of my mother for a month or so? I’ll take her to your house tomorrow or something. Please?”

“I—alright,” Myerne replied, slightly bewildered. “Why?”

Maisha had known that this question was coming. “I’m going to the capital,” she replied. “I want to help my mother get better.”

“Ah, for the Tournament?” Myerne guessed. “Then you’d better hurry and get trained! I’ll take care of your mother for you.”

Till now, Maisha wasn’t sure if Myerne only did her these favours because she felt bad for her. Would feeling this charity last forever?

Thankful to have such a friend, Maisha thanked her, before racing down the streets, along the coast and back home. One week! By ship, the journey would take at least three days. I’d better leave. Immediately.

“Mother, mother! Don’t worry, I think I’ve found a solution,” she shouted as she raced in through the doorway. “You’ll be healthy before you know it!”

FOr a moment, Maisha saw her mother’s lips curve up at the corners.

“It’s the tournament. Myerne will care for you while I am working for your cure,” she went on. “I’ll come back victorious, I promise.” That was a heavy promise to keep, but she knew she would be able to. Her mother nodded slowly.

 

Outside, the sun was already sinking past the horizon, and everything was awash with fiery orange. Opening the wardrobe, she picked up all three sets of handmade clothing she had, stuffing them deep into her straw bag. Then, at last, she raised the cloth-enwrapped fan, pulling the delicate lace off and opening it. It was still as new and as beautiful as ever; the cloth unfaded, fresh green, the gold patterns glimmering in the sunset. Two strings of emerald beads hung from its bottom end, and Maisha waved it from side to side, sparkling with magic. You’re all I have, she thought. That and my magic.

Transfer magic—the power to channel her energy into another living being—had been a strange power that she had been gifted with since birth. But how could it help in the battles she was about to face? The only use she had ever found for it had been to help plants grow faster.

Well, who knows? It might help me in the strangest way. I’ll never know.

Imagining the crowds of people at Ilere and the excitement of battling, she slipped the fan into her belt. “I’ve got no time to lose, Mother,” she explained, squatting next to her. She gave the woman a kiss on the forehead, feeling her cold, dry skin. Then, she raced over to Myerne’s house, through the dark night along the coast.

“Myerne!” she shouted, knocking on the door, excitement making her heart race. “Myerne, I’m going now!”

Myerne appeared at the doorway. “So soon?” she gasped. “Good luck then! Do it the best you can.” Maisha nodded and embraced her tightly. Myerne continued to encourage her.

Maisha passed her keys to her home, before turning and running towards the island’s port, bag swinging on her shoulder. This was the night when she would change her life, she knew.

Chapter 2

Maisha continued along the coast towards the port she always saw in the distance, but had never once visited before. Torches on the jetties made the waters of the Rheisan sea glimmer, and the comforting swish of the tides urged her on.

Over the stones of the cliffs and seaside grass she went, towards the great port. At last, close to midnight, she arrived. Many ships, empty, floated in the water, but only a few had their torches lit, and Maisha immediately went running from one signpost to another, searching for the one destined for `.

This one! The torches shone upon the great gold letters, and breathing in deeply, she took one step onto the dark wood.

Suddenly, doubt filled her up, and she turned back the way she had come. It’s dangerous to battle. What if I die? Then…mother would die too. Is this really a wise thing to do? After this, I’ll be miles from home, away from everything familiar, alone…

The resolve she had felt earlier began to vanish.

Angrily, she shook her head hard and ran up the jetty. The man at the end was struggling not to fall asleep. I made this choice, and I’m not turning back!

Maisha grinned. Tiptoeing silently behind a fat wooden pole wrapped with ropes, she opened her fan.

Song magic. That should do the job.

Slowly swishing the fan side to side, she hummed the old magic lullaby her mother had taught her to use with the fan. The rich notes sounded above the roar of waves, and by two verses, she could hear snoring.

Maisha crept close to the man to check that he was asleep. His eyes didn’t even twitch. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, she raced across the wooden plank, onto the unsteady deck of the ship.

Ah, it felt amazing. Feeling the floor move below her feet, she felt like she had gone into a new chapter of her life. Here was, at last, some hope for their tiny family of two. At last, here was some hope that they could have a future.

Quickly, Maisha ran down the dark stairs in a corner, and upon reaching a door, swung it open with greatly exaggerated moves. She was wildly happy, ecstatic, that she had broken free of her fear and doubt and taken her first step to change. 

I made this choice. There’s no turning back.

Not an hour later, the ship was moving. Finally! Maisha was finally heading away, towards Ilere. She was hidden deep inside the food store, under a pile of sacks. Everything was dark, but she still felt safe down there. Ignoring the crushing weight of the bags and the strong earthy smell around her, she closed her eyes and fell asleep. Yes, stowing away was a serious crime, but Maisha simply forgot her worries and drifted away into a series of fast-paced dreams.

 

Maisha had no idea at all of what the time was when she woke up, but the smell of potatoes immediately brought all her memories back. I’m on the ship to Ilere, which should arrive tomorrow. I mustn’t be found, or I’ll be thrown into jail for sure.

But I can’t stay buried here forever! What if I don’t get out in time, and the ship leaves with me on board? The prospect of either happening sent fear rushing through her body.

“Come on, Maisha,” she told herself, panting. “I’m quite sure they wouldn’t think that I’m on board illegally if I acted innocent! Who would be able to tell, anyway?”

Making up her mind, Maisha tried to push the sack above her away. It wasn’t as easy as she had thought it would be. In fact, she could hardly even get it to move an inch. After a long struggle with the sacks of what she was certain were potatoes around, she gave up and relaxed her aching arms, sweating. So she was trapped for now.

Slowly wriggling her feet out from under the sacks on top of them, Maisha pulled her legs close. She immediately felt pins and needles, and she did not move for quite some time. She turned her head from side to side, loosening her stiff neck, massaging her shoulders.

Then she resumed her escape, pushing hard on the sack immediately above her. “I am not going to be trapped here for the rest of my life,” she muttered to herself, forcing all her strength on that sack and pushing.

The sack suddenly slid off the stack, and cool air rushed into the little hole Maisha had made for herself. She took a few seconds to breathe, before leaping out of the hole, in the process causing more sacks to slide.

Looking left and right, she spied the staircase, lit by the sunlight from the deck.

Alright, she thought, nimbly running over the sacks. There’s my road to escape.

Silently, she crept up the loose planks of wood, hoping her footsteps could not be heard up on the deck.

The sunlight pierced Maisha’s eyes like knives, burning in her vision, after so long in a sunless room. She waited there a minute, waiting for her eyes to become accustomed to the sunlight. She heard footsteps nearby, carefully keeping her head below the level of the deck, practically lying flat against the stairs.

Finally, the footsteps were gone. Now! She pulled herself up onto the deck and raced away, quickly slipping behind one of the masts as one of the passengers walked past. Once he was gone, Maisha went on walking in an ordinary manner. She had long realised that if she wanted to appear as an ordinary passenger, she had to stop hiding and acting so nervously.

THe sea was even more beautiful from aboard the ship. Now, she was surrounded on all sides by blue water and sky. The wind sped them on fast, and the extra charms placed on the ship’s hull made it go twice as fast. Maisha had often seen the sailors working these spells on their ships in the evening, when she went there to enjoy the breeze after a hard day of work. The strange words they chanted as they hung seaweed all over the hull always mesmerised her.

Now, at the bow, watching the water race past the wood, frothing in the ship’s wake, she saw the magic at work, cutting through the water like a knife, slicing through waves with invisible force.

Just then, Maisha noticed a slight rippling in the air ahead. She had no time to wonder what it was before the ship passed through it. It felt like passing through a thin sheet of ice, and suddenly, she recalled something her mother had told her before. Ilere, the city of peace, was guarded by a veil of magic. Within the veil, the seas were calm.

Maisha looked around at the water. It was flat, shimmering in the gentle sunlight, and much shallows. When it had once been deep blue, it was now the colour of aquamarine, and sparkling like one.

Looking ahead, she saw, in the distance, the clear outline of land touching the sea. That shore extended on for the whole horizon, resting atop the waves, just a thin line. This shore had to be their destination.

Maisha heard some talking from behind her, and she turned, trying to act like any other passenger on the ship.

“Sure Shioren can steer the boat?” came a rough voice.

“It’s but a mile from the port of Ilere,” the other replied. “We can trust him to steer my ship that far!” The captain.

“So…you say that there is an illegal passenger aboard,” the captain continued. Maisha gasped silently. They know, but how?

“Yes, he left the food store in a mess,” the other man replied. Maisha cursed her carelessness. “Someone was obviously hiding there.”

“So I shall check every person for their allowance passes,” answered the captain.

Oh, great… Maisha thought, panicking. If they find out, I’m going to be thrown in jail…

“Excuse me, madam, your allowance pass, please,” the gruff voice requested from behind her. Fearfully, she turned back. How do I get out of this?

Then, she did the only thing she could think of doing—she dashed away, to a chorus of shouts, then climbed onto the wooden bulwark as fast as she could, and leapt straight into the water.

As Maisha sank below the surface, she heard their startled shouts. Ignoring them, she continued to hold her breath. Seawater had filled her nostrils and mouth.

She thought she was going to die before the ship passed. But it finally did, and she swam to the surface, gasping madly for fresh air.

Maisha’s thoughts were a panicky whirl. Her heart beat fast from the close shave she had just had. For that moment, the only thing she had thought of was escape from the captain. But now, a mile from Ilere, clothes and luggage drenched through in the middle of the sea, she realised what a dire situation she was in.

But despite this small disaster, Maisha felt thrilled at the excitement, and more anxious than ever to finally reach her destination. She had learned to swim, just like everyone in her town, and she swam towards the distant shore. The current was helping her slightly, or rather, the lack of it. It was just a matter of when she would reach the port.

Determined, she pushed on through the water, towards land.

Chapter 3

Five hours later, the sun was already close to the end of its journey across the sky, and finally, Maisha touched land. Her arms ached all over as she dragged herself out of the water and crawled to her feet. Some of the people on the beach, upon seeing her, immediately ran to her, concerned. Maisha felt embarrassed under their gazes, telling them that she could manage on her own. It was hard to shake them off, but after much persuasion, they finally left her.

She began to search for something to eat. She had not eaten a thing since the night before, and hunger raked at her stomach. Her clothes were still drenched. At least money was not ruined by water.

“Excuse me,” she said to a woman as she walked past. “May I know where I can buy food?” 

The woman gestured down the road. “Go that way, then turn right at the next main street. You’ll see a crowded market. That’s the nearest place I can think of.”

Maisha bowed to the woman, who went on her way. She looked around at the torchlit streets. Stone shophouses lined either side of the road, interiors lit by lamps and candles. SHe smiled at the amazing variety of wares being sold, and the unique style of architecture that characterised the cosy little buildings. It’s not hard to believe that this continent’s people rejected war, she observed.

Following the woman’s instructions, Maisha turned right at the next junction, and she began to notice the buzz of people talking far away. On this street, she noticed, there were more people as well.

Suddenly, she realised that she had hardly any money—her savings in total only amounted to three gold coins. That would last her for a few days, no more. Then, she would have to steal or starve.

I’ll worry about that tomorrow. For now, I’d better just get myself something to fill my stomach.

Soon, Maisha had made it to the market. It was crowded, full of people walking, browsing the stands and buying food. There was the sound of lively discussion, heated bargaining and advertising shouts of shopkeepers. The myriad foods available left Maisha unsure of what she wanted to buy. As she eyed the bread shop, she suddenly heard a familiar voice calling to her.

“Ah, it’s you.”

Maisha turned around and was pleasantly surprised to see Kairn beside her. “Kairn” she exclaimed, looking up at the national heroine. She—she actually recognises me! Even among so many people!

Kairn smiled back. “I’ve never asked your name before, pardon me. What might it be?” she asked.

“My name’s Maisha,” she replied.

“Maisha, my little gardener,” she said, the words making Maisha feel shy. “You do our town a great service.”

Maisha looked down as they walked out onto the street. “It’s nothing much, really,” she said.

“Not much? You’re the only gardener who works every day of every week, for the whole day. I hardly see any of the others as regularly as you. Lots of people know you, don’t you know? And besides, you have a lovely, memorable face.”

All of Kairn’s compliments made Maisha feel very self-conscious. She laughed them off. “Well, I am really honoured to be talking to you,” she answered.

“Maisha, you’re pretty poor, aren’t you?” Kairn said, changing the subject. “Do you have anywhere to stay while you’re here? I hope for the best for you for this tournament, but you do need good lodgings to do your best.”

Maisha hesitated for a moment. Should I trouble her? “Not really,” she admitted.

“Then come stay with me,” Kairn said immediately. “You can’t live out in the open without any shelter.”

“I—” the girl replied— “Thank you! I only hope I don’t trouble you with my presence. I can wash my own clothes and buy food myself!”

Chuckling, Kairn led Maisha back to the house she had rented for the length of the tournament.

The two-storey shophouse looked just like any other on the outside. Maisha was somewhat surprised, having expected a powerful woman like Kairn to have rented a better place.

“It’s not much,” the dark sorceress said, echoing her thoughts. Taking the magic key, an intricately carved piece of stone, from her belt pouch, she placed the symbol over a similar pattern below the door’s brass handle. The door immediately swung open, and both of them went in, Kairn taking the key out.

The interior had marble walls and a wooden floor. In the sitting room which greeted Maisha’s sight, there was an empty fireplace. Looking up, she saw a shelf of candles on every wall, lighting the room.

“You really should go change,” Kairn suggested. “There’s salt all over your clothes.” Looking down at her simple outfit, she realised that Kairn was right. She also felt very thirsty now she thought about it. “The rooms are upstairs. There’s an empty room, so you can take that one.”

Maisha gratefully ascended up the stairs. The wood of the stairs did not creak. When she finally reached the second level, she saw two doors—one on the left and one on the right. The doors were made in the same style as the front door, their designs uniform, but the left one already hung ajar. Guessing that Kairn had taken the left room, she went to check the right. It was completely empty except for the bed. I think I can take this room, she thought.

After changing into a new set of clothes, Maisha tested the bed. Almost instantly, she found her eyes closing. It was such a comfort to her tired, aching body. She had never slept in such a soft bed before.

 

Maisha woke up late the next day. By the looks of it, it was already nearing noon, the sun close to its zenith. Quickly, she leapt off the bed.

Racing down the stairs as she tied her cloth belt around her waist, she saw that Kairn was no longer around. A loaf of bread with raisins remained on the table, and upon close inspection, Maisha found a note below it. This is for you, it read. Don’t forget to sign up for the tournament—you can’t miss the queue. Maisha took it and began to wolf it down. This was the best breakfast she had ever eaten in eight years. It reminded her of the distant, lost time before her father’s death, when they had had enough money to buy this sort of food.

Once she had finished her breakfast, she left the house, closing the door, which locked itself. Now, I must find out where we sign up.

It wasn’t hard at all. The first person she met immediately pointed her to the arena by the coast. Knowing roughly the way, she made her way there, pulse racing.

When the arena came into view, Maisha froze with awe. It was at least four times the size of the one on her home island of Loane in the province of Rheis, and its walls were twice as tall. As she walked through the entrance, which arched a long way over her head, she could hear the echoes of her footsteps and the voices of other people. Experimentally, she sang out a long, loud note, and the echoes made it sound otherworldly. She laughed to herself.

The battleground was huge. Surrounding the sandy round space were rows and rows of seats, where Maisha knew the crowds of people would sit and watch the battles. She could almost see them, screaming their lungs out for the competition, urging them to fight harder.

I don’t even know if I’ll make it to the battles! I’ve got no battle experience at all…

Ignoring her doubts, she went out of the arena to join the huge line by the exit, entirely made up of registering participants.

It was a wait of almost two hours, which she spent studying the rest. Some looked just as inexperienced as her. Others were clearly seasoned battlers.

“Here to sign up for the tournament?” asked the man at the wooden table once she reached the front of the line. The white-haired man’s table was covered with scrolls. On the wall over his head was a huge, empty stone square, divided exactly in half by a golden strip.

“Yes,” Maisha answered.

The man presented her a half-filled scroll and a quill, requesting for her to write her name and her town at the bottom.

Her eyes drifted up, and she saw someone else’s name and town written at the end. You mean all those lists… she glanced about at the scrolls cluttering the table. Those are the people taking part?

As Maisha returned to the parchment, he said, “I, the Tournament Master, assigned by the six founders, welcome you to Ilere. All the best of luck.” Maisha bowed, hands cold, half with excitement, and half with anxiety.

Well, I’ve signed up. Now I’m going to remain in the competition until I am defeated. There’s no backing out now.

“Remember to come here tomorrow morning,” the Tournament Master went on. “The elimination round will begin at noon sharp.”

Puzzled and at the same time filled with anticipation, Maisha left. She had heard that the elimination round had nothing to do with battles. I hope that means that I’ve got a chance…

Chapter 4

When she reached Kairn’s rented house, Maisha was shocked to see several people gathered at the front door. Maisha spied Kairn speaking to them from the doorway, then recognised Serith among them.

When the group saw her, they drew apart, only Kairn remaining before the doorway. Maisha felt very awkward and out-of-place walking into their midst.

“Ah, yes, this is Maisha,” Kairn introduced her to the rest of the group. “She’s living with me for the rest of this Tournament.”

“Unless she gets knocked out at the elimination round,” one of them muttered.

“I remember you,” Serith said. “Well, good luck to you! You will need it.” Maisha did her best not to frown.

“So we’ll meet tomorrow, at the arena,” Kairn agreed, and the others filed away without a sound.

“Those are my friends,” Kairn said. “Don’t mind them, some of them never learned how not to be rude.” Maisha nodded with understanding. Kairn herself was quite cold at times. “So…you’ve signed up?” Maisha nodded, recalling again the many scrolls of paper on that table. “You should start practising now. If you need it or feel like it, that is. Be back by lunch, though. I bought something for you.”

Maisha agreed, secretly thankful that she had remembered lunch for her. Once Kairn had closed the door, she pulled out her fan, shaking the salt off the fabric. SHe did not want to make a fool of herself in front of the other competitors.

Let’s see if I remember how to control its powers, she thought, opening it with a swift flick of her hand. Holding it at shoulder level, she swept it from over her left shoulder and out in a clockwise semi-circle. The fan worked its magic, glowing white as she swung it, a ripple of force travelling outward. Such a cutting motion could cause minor injuries.

Then, she tried another thing she had been taught. Holding the fan out again, she spun around her in a circle, humming. The white trail of magic left by the fan spun out to form a ring around her. That ring could throw a person off their feet, and once she made it, it took a quarter of an hour to fade. More spins would make it stronger.

While she waited for her ring to faid, Maisha tried her third move: a gale. Waving it up and down, she sang the spell-song for wind. With each flap, the force of the wind from the fan began to grow, till its power made the grass on the roadside tear away.

But there was one more thing her mother had taught her about the fan. In fact, she could still remember her exact words. “The fan doesn’t only channel pure magic. If you think and feel hard enough about any kind of magic, it can take on the powers of that form, too.”

With that piece of advice, Maisha had created her fourth skill. She imagined the roots of the trees and plants reaching deep into the soil. She imagined their stems, twining and curling around whatever was before her, entrapping it in a net. And when she opened her eyes and waved the fan, out of the ground shot hundreds of vines, twisting and winding tightly, around the tree in front of her, binding it.

The fan was amazing. Like most staves, bells and ribbons, it could channel any kind of magic. Unlike a staff, however, it took a lot more patience to wield. Yet its power could be strengthened by many times compared to a staff, depending on how it was handled. Maisha had faith in it.

Finally, the ring faded away. Maisha continued to practise her four skills, slightly hindered by the aches in her arms. Over the hour, her attacks got stronger, smoother and a lot easier, until she could do them all without much of a thought. Only then did she go to knock on the door and have lunch.

After lunch, Kairn apparently had a matter to attend to, so Maisha was left alone in the house. SHe spent that time cleaning her fan and trying her skills over and over again.

THe hours trickled by, and at sunset, Kairn finally returned, much to Maisha’s relief. She had brought a large paper bag that smelled of cooked chicken.

“This is dinner for today,” Kairn called to her. Maisha looked up, grinning, as Kairn put the bag down on the table. Her stomach was already complaining. Almost instantly, she was upon the food, taking huge bites of the juicy meat. Meat…I miss the taste of such good meat!

“You’re hungry,” Kairn said with a laugh.

Suddenly feeling bad about her lack of manners, Maisha shook her head, lowering the half-bair leg of chicken. “I’ve not eaten good, well-cooked meat for a long time,” she explained. “It tastes so good!” Kairn nodded with understanding while she continued to eat. “Thank you for being so kind to me,” she said once she had finished it. “I still don’t understand why…”

“Maisha,” Kairn said, coming closer. “I appreciate your friendship.”

Maisha stared back. “I thought you had lots of friends. Those people who were at your door…”

“They’re not really friends, just…colleagues,” she tried to explain. Mystified by what she had said, Maisha nodded all the same. “And besides, you need food if you want to compete tomorrow.” Maisha smiled, glad for her understanding.

So…it all starts tomorrow. I hope it doesn’t end tomorrow, too. Maisha continued to climb the stairs, feeling her arms shake with nerves. It won’t be the end. I have a promise to keep.

Chapter 5

As soon as the sunlight fell upon Maisha’s eyes, she was awake. Suddenly remembering that the elimination round was today, she immediately looked out the window to check if she was going to be late. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that the sun was only a little way into the blue.

Getting up, muscles still aching slightly but feeling refreshed and ready all the same, she flew down the wooden stairs to find that Kairn was gone. She must have left early for the tournament, she thought.

Going to the dining table, she saw that there was no food. Instead, there was a small, brown bag tied shut with a yellow cord. Picking it up, she felt the hard shapes of many coins inside. Maisha gasped.

Below it, she found another note. “Buy whatever breakfast you like,” it said, hurriedly scribbled. Tying the bag to her belt, she went out of the house, closing the door behind her. By the looks of it, she had three hours to get herself breakfast. Then, she would have to make her way to the arena. Better get myself something good to eat, or I’ll be too weak to do anything. Her heart was thudding fast again at the thought of the Tournament. Casting her worries aside, she went towards the market again.

When she had finished eating, she instantly knew that it was time for the elimination round. In fact, she had been thinking about it throughout her breakfast by the fountain. How many thousands of people were competing? Would it be crowded? DId she even stand a chance against so many?

Well, I didn’t come here to turn back before the tournament even begins!

Then, she remembered her promise to her mother that she would return victorious. Now, all of a sudden, she felt less certain than ever.

Maisha was shocked at the number of people who had come to take part in the Tournament. THere were people continuously streaming in through the entrances. When she tried to enter, she found herself in the middle of the tightly-packed crowd, the smell of sweat overwhelming her. All around were people of all races, wearing all sorts of different clothes from different regions of Niethe.

When Maisha finally got out of the entrance corridor into the true battlefield, she drank in the air gratefully. But that did not last long. Another tide of people from the entrance pushed her on into the main gathering. She wondered what the elimination round might be, and by the looks on the faces of the various people around her, they were similarly clueless.

Then, there was a clang as the arena gates swung shut. “It is noo,” the powerful voice of the Tournament Master instantly silenced the crowd. “Across the Forest of Ilere, sixty-four precious stones are hidden. In order to make it to the Tournament of the Founders, you must find one gem, no more, and no less. There is only one rule: you may do anything to gain a gem. Anything.”

Maisha shuddered. Turning to look about at the rest, she saw hundreds of different expressions—nonchalance, fear, determination, confidence…

She noticed that a huge crowd of people had been locked outside the arena, too. Those people were late, she thought. That really was the first test.

“The elimination round begins…now.”

Suddenly, everything around her turned white and blinding. All too soon, the light faded, and she found herself in the middle of a shadowy forest. Glancing around, she saw another man a few feet away, and a woman some way ahead. They both looked as dazed as she felt.

Her heart raced madly. Her legs carried her between the trees, her eyes searching wildly for any trace of a sparkle.

She gasped and smiled as she saw a glint in the branches above. There! Taking her fan from her belt, she flicked it open. But before she could cut the branch and let the gem fall for her to catch, an arrow had knocked it out of the leaves. A man with a bow sprinted forward and caught it, giving a cheer.

So…do I kill him?

That question solved itself. One glance at Maisha, and he had taken off into the shadows of the leaves, and Maisha stood staring.

Can’t stop yet! She thought, continuing to search high and low. Around her, she was aware of others nearby, searching the foliage and understory for gems as well. But Maisha knew what was at stake, and she would not lose. She could not. But she knew that the rest were likely just as determined to get into the Tournament as she was.

Slowly, she heard more and more shouts of victory, saw more people pick up or catch falling gems. For a dizzying moment, she felt very afraid that she would never find one.

I need to get in! It’s for my mother! Even if it means I must kill…

Almost at once, she saw a man run past, staff in one hand, a gem tightly clasped in another.

“I need it!” she roared, whipping out her fan. Arrows, she thought. I need poison arrows! She felt the energy forming in her fan, the gold patterns traced with light, turning purple.

The glow drew his eye. His eyes met hers, and he gasped as he tumbled to his knees, breaths shortening. He cowered down to the ground.

Maisha faltered. She lowered her fan. He straightened up slowly, a tear falling from his eye. “Thank you,” he breathed, before sprinting away.

There goes my chance. Maisha’s shoulders sagged, uncertainty swelling to engulf her. There are so many people here. Who knows, there could well be another person  in this tournament wanting the same thing I want, with a mother on the edge of death… Who was I to think that my cause would bring me victory?

“Ah, it’s you!” Maisha whipped around at the sound of the voice. It took her a moment before she recognised the person watching her through the trees. “You’re that gardener from the Central Park, aren’t you?”

“L-Lord—” she gasped, resisting the instinct to fall to her knees in deference. It was Kariath, the son of Marquess Rhethian, who presided over Eastern Niethe. He had often visited the Central Park with his sister Kalisha. His long, dark hair was pulled together in a knot at the back of his head and he wore an easy smile, a curved sword sheathed on his belt. “What do you want, Lord Kariath?” She felt herself trembling at the thought that he recognised her, too.

“Open your hand,” he replied.

She extended her hand. “What do you want?” she asked, and when he reached out to take her outstretched hand, she felt a flush surge through her. What is this? From his right hand, he produced a gem that sparkled blood red in the thin sunlight, and dropped it in her palm.

“I’ve got two,” he explained. “And I was trying to decide who to give it to, but I think you’ll do just fine. As a thank-you for all that hard work you do at the park.”

Maisha was too stunned to speak. Here was the Marquess’ son, thanking her for her hard work! He actually notices me there, like Kairn! She had never thought anyone took notice. How many people actually knew her?

Then, she looked down at the gem in her hand, and she began to feel her eyes sting with tears of gratitude. To think that Lord Kariath would grant me the chance to carry on in this competition! “I will be eternally grateful,” she exclaimed, and he raised his eyebrows.

“There’s no need to call me ‘lord’,” he said, smirking. “I’d rather feel your equal.”

Maisha, ashamed for having made him feel that way, apologised.

Just then, there were footsteps from nearby, and two of them turned to see Kalisha racing towards them in a similarly fancy tunic, except blue where Kariath’s was green.

“Oh, it’s you!” she exclaimed when she saw Maisha. “The gardener from Central Park!”

Turning to Maisha, Kariath asked, “What’s your name?”

“I—my name’s Maisha,” she replied. This is so scary! They both know me!

Kalisha nodded thoughtfully. “When does this thing end?” she asked, looking up through the leaves. “We’ve been here more than two hours.”

Maisha had been so intent on finding a gem that she had not noticed how much time had flown by. Instead of answering the question, Kariath turned to her. “So, why are you trying to win this tournament?” he asked.

“Me?” she asked. “I—it’s for my mother.” Interested, the two came closer to listen. Maisha swallowed. “She was cursed…and became so sick that she could no longer talk, or walk. And she’s suffering so much…and every day, she’s closer to dying. I would be alone without her. And I really don’t want my mother to die!” She was already tearing up , her emotional strength breaking down all of a sudden. “I wish it had never happened. I wish she could talk the way she did before, walk freely, and just be with me…”

Kariath and Kalisha both looked at each other. “Well, that is a surprise,” said Kariath. “You always seemed so certain, so full of life, whenever I saw you in the Park. I never thought for a moment that you were earning money to support your family like that.”

“No, it’s no matter at all,” Maisha replied, wiping her tears away. “At least I get to eat every day—”

Then, everything around her began to glow white again, and they suddenly found themselves in the arena again. 

“All sixty four gems have been found!” the Tournament Master declared. “Those sixty-four are to stay behind in the arena.”

The elimination round was over, and Maisha had made it—all thanks to Kariath.

Around them, hundreds of disappointed people, some crying, turned to leave the arena. Maisha’s heart filled with sadness as she watched them leave the arena.

In minutes, only a tiny fraction of the people remain. Among them were all sorts—magic wielders, sorcerers, archers, warriors, all a little dishevelled but looking pleased.

“You have proven worthy of proceeding to the Tournament of the Founders,” the Master announced. Around them were cheers. “In three days’ time, the Tournament proper begins. You will be battling the one who holds the same gem as you do.”

Maisha raised her gem to eye level. It was a ruby, sparkling brilliantly in the beating sun, shaped like a teardrop. Glancing about, she searched the crowd for one with another ruby, finding none.

“Best of luck to you,” Kariath said to her, the bright turquoise shining in his palm. Kalisha also nodded once at her, showing her the glimmering carnelian which she held.

“And best of luck to the two of you,” Maisha replied. The two nobles smiled, then made their way towards the gates, which now stood open. 

I should get back now. I’m sure Kairn got in as well.

It occurred to her, gradually, that if she was to win, she would have to face either Kairn or whoever defeated her, eventually. But she decided she would worry about that only when she had to.

As Maisha walked through the exit, still glancing at the others’ hands in search of another person with a teardrop-shaped ruby, she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see who had stopped her, and saw a huge man, heavily muscled, with an axe. He showed her his ruby with a grin, and laughed as she gasped in shock. It was the same as hers.

“Good luck,” he sneered. Maisha looked away and continued on her way to the street.

She turned back for a moment to see if the man was gone yet, and suddenly realised that new words had appeared on the stone square above the place where the Tournament Master’s table had been. Going closer, she saw what they were—names. She saw her name up there, and a teardrop-shaped ruby like hers embedded in the stone next to her name. As she scanned the rest, she realised that there were two different shapes for the gems. I guess it means I’ll be battling someone with an oval-shaped ruby if I win.

“If I win,” she whispered to herself, recalling all too clearly the tall, strong man with the other tear-shaped ruby.

Chapter 6

“You got in,” Kairn said in a congratulatory tone as Maisha stepped through the doorway. “I saw you there.”

“So did you, am I right?”

Kairn nodded, and Maisha smiled. I’d expected that, she added silently.

“Anyway,” the sorceress said, “I’ve gotten you dinner tonight.” She presented the plate of beef to the pleasantly surprised girl. Maisha took it gratefully and started to eat. I really don’t deserve all this kindness, she thought guiltily. I don’t understand why Kairn cares so much about me. I’m a complete stranger to her. Or at least, I was.

Nothing was happening the next day, Maisha immediately recalled when she woke up. Wondering what she would do that day, she pulled herself out of bed and looked inside her bag for inspiration.

It was then that she noticed that her clothes were still dirty. There must be a river somewhere around here where I can wash my clothes, she thought, rolling them up as sand and salt scattered over the marble ground. It’ll also give me a chance to explore the city a little more.

Making her way down to the beach, where she knew she would find the mouth of a river, Maisha raced down the streets. THere were many carriages on the streets, carrying the rich around the city. She looked up at the golden wheel spokes and decorations with awe and envy, before hurrying on in the gentle light of early morning. The sounds of the morning filled the sky; birds sang from the lamp posts and trees, the sound of lively chatter drifting from the houses around her.

The sound of the sea was getting louder. Stopping to enjoy the familiar, homely sound, she recalled her tiny wooden hut near the coast. It wasn’t much, but she had lived there for more than half her life, gone through so much there. It was her home, a precious, irreplaceable little building. The memory of her home made her feel weak with comfort.

Telling herself to hurry on, Maisha continued on her way to the beach, spirits high. There was so much to see here, in this unfamiliar city on an unfamiliar continent. It was a beauty, so perfectly preserved, while the rest of the world had been torn by war.

Maisha gave a gasp as she stepped onto the sands of the beach of Ilere. Before her, the sea was spread out like a rippling mirror, returning the sun’s glorious light to the bare blue skies above. Like home, she thought with a sigh. My beautiful home.

“Ah, I think I might have seen you before,” came a call from the sky. The sky? Maisha glanced upwards and saw a huge animals’ shadow, like the dragons of the legends, descending towards her. 

The great creature landed on the sand with a dull thump, and off its back leapt a tall youth. He was tanned, perhaps from spending a long time in the sun, and in his right hand, he held a lance. Maisha just stood there, frozen, wondering why this young man had stopped her. Fearfully, she noticed that he wore the uniform of the coast guards. Does he know that I stowed away on a ship? She wondered with alarm. What if he’s here to capture me?

Turning, she got ready to run, but his restraining hand held her back.

“W-what do you want?” she gasped, turning.

He replied with a grin, “Now, aren’t you a beauty…now I recall! You are one of the sixty-four, aren’t you?”

Exceedingly relieved that he was not there to jail her, she nodded.

“So am I,” he said, fishing in his pocket for something. Soon, he produced it—an oval-shaped ruby. Maisha’s eyes widened when she saw it, and she took out her own. The two gems matched each other in brightness.

“Uh…my name is Maisha,” she said to the smiling coast guard. “Seems we’ll be facing each other…if we both win.”

“I’m Hareth,” the youth replied. “Leader of the Ilere coast guards.”

“L-leader?” Maisha stammered. “You’re their leader?” Hareth nodded with pride, twirling his lance around, its point sparkling. He looked up at the sky, thinking.

“I already know who I’m battling,” he soon said. “A riding archer from the Cian Province named Aris. Saw him that day. He uses poisonous arrows.”

“Well, good luck,” she replied. “I don’t know about myself, though. I think, even with good luck, I’m not going to make it.” Again, she thought of that menacing grin on the axe man’s face and felt very unsure. “My opponent looks…hard to beat.”

“This is already the top sixty-four,” Hareth exclaimed. “Everyone’s going to look hard to beat!” Then he smiled down at her. “You really don’t look that strong to me, actually… You look more like a princess, not like the fighting type.”

Maisha suddenly felt very embarrassed, and she began to twirl a braid around her index finger, feeling heat creep into her face. Oh, no! she thought. What do I say now? What can I say?

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he quickly said. “I didn’t really mean that you’re really weak or anything!”

Maisha shook her head, still shocked. “It’s alright,” she replied, smiling. “I’m not used to compliments.”

Hareth nodded with a smile. “Well, it’s time you knew that your face is very pretty, if no one’s told you before,” he answered, smile widening. 

“Oh, I…I…I need to find a place to give my clothes a wash.” 

With that, she took off along the beach, head spinning. Does he mean it?

“Excuse me, sir,” she said to a man as she ran by. “Where may I find the nearest river?”

The man shrugged. “I’m a visitor here, too,” he replied. “I’m going home now.” Maisha bowed gratefully, before continuing on her way down the long coast.

Midway, she heard a shout. Turning around, she saw that someone in swordsman’s clothes was racing towards her.

“I knew it was you!” he exclaimed. Maisha squinted to see that it was Kariath.

“Lord…I mean, Kariath!” she called back, waving. Kariath soon arrived at her side, panting for air.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

Maisha explained her need to give her clothes a wash. “Do you know where the nearest river is?” she finished. Kariath laughed, and Maisha looked on, puzzled at his amusement.

“It’s at the other end of the coast,” he finally managed to say. “You spent the whole morning searching the wrong side of the beach!” Maisha, understanding, gave a groan as she stretched her tired legs. “I’ll take you there.”

But I can’t have a lord do me such favours!

Kariath seemed to notice her hesitation, and seemed to know why as well. “Don’t worry, Maisha, you don’t have to think anything of it. Here in the Tournament, we’re all equals, anyway. Come on now!”

The young lord was already walking away. Maisha could not begrudge his kindness, so she hurried on until she had caught up to him again.

“So, you have decided to follow,” he said.

“That’s not very polite, leaving a girl behind,” Maisha replied, before becoming surprised at her own boldness.

He turned and smiled. “Now you’re being more sensible,” he said.

Finally, after some lively conversation, they arrived at the river mouth. The delta was wide and the water ran too fast to be crossed, and they began to track a route inland, away from where it mixed with the water of the sea.

Maisha looked into the rushing water. The currents were powerful, and she squatted beside the dark water, hypnotised by the shimmering flow.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Kariath urged her. She sat down on the grass, dipping her salty shirt and skirt into the cold current. She scrubbed it with itself, making sure the water got through every inch, washing the crusty salt away. Soon, she took it out of the river and wrung it, the water splashing back into the river. She repeated these motions with her pants, then, with a nervous glance back at her companion, who turned away, her underwear.

Then she slipped them back into her straw bag, which dripped as she stood.

“All finished?” Kariath asked. “I’ve never really watched someone wash their clothes before.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “There’s a lot about my life you wouldn’t understand,” she said. “Not with all your money.”

Kariath looked guilty for a moment, and Maisha wanted to apologise for being so blunt. But he just said, “May I walk you back to your lodgings?” She nodded as they walked back to the street, her bag still dripping all over her shoes. There must be something he doesn’t have, even if he’s nobility. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be in this Tournament. He’s got his own problems, I’m sure.

By the time the two of them arrived at Kairn’s front door, it was past noon, and Maisha’s stomach was already rumbling from hunger.

“Thank you, Kariath,” Maisha said, bowing to the lord.

“Take care.” He nodded with that same lopsided smile, before waving her goodbye and leaving.

The door was locked, and Maisha realised that she would have to wait until Kairn returned. She walked over to the shade of one of the roadside trees and sat down, feeling about in her soggy bag for her coins.

She began to think about her fears about the Tournament. To think that she used to be afraid that she would be lonely, when she had already met four fellow competitors who had been nothing but friendly to her! BUt right now, she had other fears: fears that she would not be able to survive her battles, that she might die here, even.

“I’m so sorry!” Kairn’s voice rang through the air. Maisha looked up to see the worried sorceress peering in her direction. “I should have come back earlier!”

Maisha stood up, elated that Kairn was finally back, before clutching her belly. Kairn quickly opened the door and dropped paper bags of food on the table. The smell made Maisha’s hunger even worse.

“How long were you out there?” asked the woman.

“Not long,” Maisha said, shaking her head as she chewed her mouthful of bread. “I should be thankful that you’re even accommodating me. I worry that I’m being too much.”

“Not at all,” Kairn said sternly. “You’re my guest, and I’m more than happy—and able—to get you your meals. Especially for someone who can hardly afford such lavishness herself.”

Maisha sighed, but she could not help but to smile. It’s nice to have someone to care for me, she thought.

“So…good luck for the battle in two days’ time,” Kairnk said. Maisha nodded thankfully. Maybe good luck from two people will really help me.

Chapter 7

Those two days passed very quickly. Maisha spent them going to the beach to practice. Often, she met Hareth, Kariath and Kalisha, and they often had mock battles. With their help, she improved her reaction time and the strength of her attacks got even greater. Apart from that, she began to get to know them better.

It was the last night before the first battle of the Tournament. Maisha had felt an urgent need to practise one more time, so there she was, under the moonlight with her fan.

“Maisha!” Hareth called, flying in on his dragon, Xore, to where she stood watching the white waves. “I didn’t know that you’d come to train your skills at night as well!”

“Try this!” she shouted, slicing the air vertically before her. A scythe of fire surged towards the coast-guard, who leapt aside instantly, before landing beside her and aiming a gentle lance thrust that she avoided.

“Is that you, Maisha?”

Now she turned around and saw Kariath and Kalisha running to where she stood. Kalisha wore a thick ribbon over her shoulders—it fluttered behind her as she ran, the light blue cloth shimmering in the moon. Kariath ran by her side, his curved sword gleaming.

“Who are they?” Hareth asked.

“My friends, Lord Kariath and Lady Kalisha,” she replied.

“They sure don’t look as ancient as their titles suggest,” he commented.

Kariath and Kalisha were soon next to Maisha. “Good luck with tomorrow’s battle!” said Kalisha. She spun around, whispering spell words, which she barely caught. Her ribbon began to shimmer, glow, then vanish. Kalisha was gone. Maisha gasped in amazement.

“What do you think?” her voice came from where she had originally stood. She gave a soft laugh, before falling silent. Moments later, Kariath yelped in shock, leaping and rubbing the back of his neck. Everyone burst out laughing.

“Kalisha! It’s not funny!” Kariath shouted. Kalisha soon appeared again behind him, and he immediately whirled back, lunging for his sister, who dodged aside.

“Now, calm down,” Maisha said, smiling. “I haven’t yet introduced you to Hareth, have I?”

Hareth looked on at the siblings. “Pleased to meet you two,” he said, bowing. “Maisha told me that you are nobles. I am Hareth, leader of the coast guards of Ilere!”

“I met him two days ago,” Maisha explained. “He’s in the final sixty-four too.”

“Ah, so that means that the two of you are finalists as well,” Hareth said. “Good luck to you as well.”

“Alright, we all came here to practise for the battles tomorrow, did we not?” Kalisha said. “Let’s do that then! Show me what you can do.”

Kariath pushed Kalisha aside and drew his sword, then closed his eyes. The blade began to glow bright blue, and when he opened his eyes, they shone blue as well. With that, he began to aim blows all over with the bright blade, his powerful strokes tearing the darkness. Even Maisha found herself surprised at how quickly he moved.

After a while, Kariath’s blade, as well as his eyes, ceased to glow. He blinked, unmoving in the moonlight, while Maisha stared on in awe.

“When did you learn to merge so well?” Kalisha asked. “You’ve always been terrible at merging! I still remember our lessons!”

Maisha turned from Kariath to Kalisha. “What’s…merging?” she asked.

“Oh, that,” Kalisha said. “It’s joining spirits with your weapon. When you do, you can tap on its innate powers, too. Kariath’s never been able to do it very well. It takes a lot of focus and openness of the mind.”

“It’s really good,” Maisha replied, turning to Kariath, who began to laugh it off.

“I’d love to learn how to do that,” Hareth said. “I’ve never really tried magic before, but that kind of skill would be very useful.” He returned to Xore, who snorted a few sparks. “Xore does most of the magic attacks.”

Maisha was surprised for a moment. “You mean that you’re allowed to bring your dragon into the tournament?”

Hareth nodded. “It’s in the arena’s rule book,” he replied. “We can achieve victory by any means. And any means includes using mounts. It takes a whole lot of training to get a dragon to follow your commands. So if you can get it to trust you, that’s a credit to your skills.”

Thinking back, Maisha realised that no one else in the final sixty-four had had a dragon. It must be very hard, and must have taken him a long time, she thought as she watched him stroke Xore’s head.

“I’ll teach you how to merge if you want,” Kalisha offered.

“I think I’d rather go train alone,” Kariath said, looking suspiciously at Hareth.

“What, so that no one can steal your techniques?” Kalisha teased. He walked away, not replying.

Maisha was alarmed by his sudden departure. He had been so friendly the day before. This simply wasn’t like him.

“Wait, Lord Kariath!” she called, racing after, leaving Hareth and Kalisha behind.

“What do you want?” he asked, not turning.

“Why are you being so unfriendly all of a sudden? Did something happen?”

“It’s just…I really…” He sounded on the verge of disclosing some deep secret, but he seemed to think better of it and fell silent.

“If it’s something personal, you don’t have to tell me,” Maisha finally said. What could it be? I know that this isn’t normal…

“Just…leave me,” he answered. “I need to be alone.”

Nodding, even though she knew that he couldn’t see her in the dark, Maisha turned and walked away, holding up her fan as she got ready for her very last rehearsal before the real show.

 

The next day started, bright and blue over the beach. Maisha immediately took in a breath of the sea air and stood, realising she had fallen asleep on a rock by the seaside. Slowly, she sat down again and turned her eyes to the sky, trying to still her wildly beating heart.

THe clouds seemed to scuddle by in a hurry, the winds speeding up as the waves rippled by. Before she knew it, it was nearing noon, and she had to go. Today, she felt no fear or nerves, only calm. Everyone has a weakness. I just have to find it.

“Welcome back, contenders for the Spirit of Niethe,” the Tournament Master bellowed at the entrance. Maisha glanced up at the great jewelled board above the doorway. She was in the eleventh battle. Her opponent was Rokan of the town of Fehris.

“Now, let me lay down the rules of every fight. You each have five minutes to battle, as timed on hourglasses. Every blow you take and every mistake you make loses you some time. The first to lose all the sand in their hourglass loses the battle. But if your opponent surrenders or dies before either runs out, you are automatically the winner! May you all enjoy the best of luck. Hopefully, all of you will end the day alive. Only half, however, will end the day victorious.”

I will be part of that half! Mother needs it. Wait for me, Mother.

“Enter the arena.”

Together with the sixty-three others, Maisha walked into the huge arena again. All around, she heard the cheers of the thousands of spectators. She held her head high, telling herself that she would be a winner. I’m not here to try, I’m here to win!

Before her, the arena ground lay gleaming, transformed into a field of ice towers and mesas. Maisah could feel the biting, frigid air whooshing past.

“Ah, not what you expected, is it?” the master said with a hint of a smile in his voice. “Yes, for every battle, your environment will change!” There was a lot of murmuring in the crowd.

Ice? Maisha looked at the high points, the sunlight weaving through them, bouncing off them into her eyes, the brilliance blinding. This will be different…maiybe advantageous. She smiled.

“First battle, Theiron of Gathe and Soraix of Saon!” A man with a hunting spear and a solid build stepped forth. From within the centre of the crowd, a blonde woman with two swords pushed through to meet the man before the master. Immediately, he held out his hands, and the two vanished appearing atop two ice mesas on the battlefield.

The air was tense as the two readied their weapons. The audiences Maisha had heard yelling madly minutes ago had quietened.

“Begin!” the Master declared. All around the arena, the huge hourglasses turned, the glass gleaming under the hot sun. “Five minutes!”

THe two leapt from their mesas to the neighbouring ones, both trying to get nearer to each other. The hunter aimed his spear and just missed, pulling it back by its rope to aim again.

Before he could do it, the swordswoman had reached his side. WIth a swift dodge, she avoided the man’s spear, before sending a stab into his abdomen.  Maisha watched, holding her breath. She could not take sides as she watched the sand in the hourglass flow out in stops and starts.

The two fought skilfully, their moves fast and strong, fiery with ferocious determination. The woman was fast, but could not avoid being struck by the man’s great spear throws. Still she fought defiantly, landing a few slashes with the tip of her blade.

The sand was almost spent, and they were still almost on par, and still battling, leaping from peak to peak, one powerful attack after another, fighting like their lives depended on victory.

Perhaps it does.

They were both badly wounded by now, but still they fought, blood staining the ice. THeir attacks became more brutal and desperate. Where they had appeared frightened of the icy heights before, it no longer seemed to faze them.

THen, as the last trickle of sand was seeping through the hourglasses’ necks, Theiron’s spear found its mark in Soraix’s ribcage. She gave a hopeless glass, her last softening cry dwindling to nothing. SHe fell from the icy tower, and her bones smashed on the ground below. THe audience’s screams and cheers were deafening.

“Theiron of Gathe moves on to the top thirty-two,” the Master announced. “He will battle the winner of the oval amethysts.”

Theiron punched the air to acknowledge victory, but his face only showed determination and anger, not jubilation.

How could they kill in cold blood like that? Maisha thought. Soraix died…do they not care?

Only one man seemed to have recalled the dead swordswoman, and he ran in to find her body, leaving with her cradled in his arms.

They’ll forget me too, Maisha realised. Only the burial man remembered him. It’ll be like that if I die—I have no family—

Other than Mother.

Feeling her nerves return suddenly, Maisha tried to tell herself the things she had told herself earlier, but that did not work. Now, the battle seemed more daunting than ever.

“Nion of Fehris and Cethirna of Ilere!”

So the battles went by, one by one. A few were killed, all competitors fighting half to their deaths. Slowly but surely, Maisha’s battle drew closer. The gathering at the waiting chamber grew smaller and smaller. Maisha soon saw Kariath and Kalisha, but when she called to them, Kariath looked away and Kalisha shrugged.

Chapter 8

“Maisha of Loane and Rokan of Fehris!” the Master announced then. As soon as she heard her name, her blood began to rush into her head, and for a moment, she felt dizzy. Quickly, she stepped forth to stand beside Rokan. Alright. I’m ready.

Before she knew it, the world around her was brightening, and she felt a great coldness, before the light dimmed to show that she was on one of the tall spikes of ice. Almost instantly, she began to lose her balance. Wobbling on her feet, she struggled to regain stability. Then, she turned forward to face Rokan. Here on these towers, he no longer looked so scary. He was having trouble balancing as well.

So now, it’s time for me to do it. A real battle. Not a practice anymore.

“Begin!” The voice sent a thrill through her blood. Ahead of her, Rokan was not moving. He’s waiting for me to get nearer. He doesn’t dare to move…

Maisha opened her fan and swept it out in front of her. A blast of wind burst from the moving fan, blowing out at the axe man beyond her. 

Suddenly, Maisha felt her feet sliding over the ice, too late. She was sliding towards the edge of the mesa.

No! Digging her heels in, she spread her feet wider, regaining her balance atop the mesa.

Ahead, she saw Rokan, already back on his feet himself. He leapt onto one mesa after another while Maisha gathered energy for another attack.

“Surprise!” Rokan shouted as he leapt across two mesas in one jump, swinging his axe at her. Maisha started and dodged, but the edge of the axe blade clipped her left shoulder, she screamed at the pain. Rokan landed beside her and swung again, and she did the only thing she could do—she jumped out of the way.

For several seconds, she was sure that she was about to die, but instead of falling to her death on the ice below, her feet met the solid, slippery surface of another mesa. Steadying herself, she looked up. Rokan stood on a higher mesa, towering over her.

He’s far away now. I must attack!

Shouting, Maisha let loose the attack she had been preparing: a flaming scythe, bursting out of her fan that burst against Rokan’s mesa. The ice began to melt beneath his feet and he fell with a cry, only to catch hold of the edge.

Maisha stole a glance at the hourglasses. Hers was just a little lower than Rokan’s. I can make up for that! She thought, ignoring the blood pouring from the wound in her shoulder and the thumping pain.

“You will die!” she heard Rokan shout from above. Quick as she could, she avoided it by jumping to the next mesa. The man raised his axe, ready to throw it at her.

The axe went flying. Instantly, Maisha gave her fan a huge wave. A gust of wind roared out and sent the axe spinning back towards its thrower.

And it hit him sidelong, but that was enough: his feet slipped, and he tumbled off the edge of his platform, his body crunching on the ice below.

All around her, there were mad cheers. Maisha herself looked on, feeling sick that she had just killed a man.

The Tournament Master went on nonetheless. “Maisha of Loane moves on to the top thirty-two!” he called.

Maisha had long awaited this moment, standing victorious before the cheering spectators. But now, she felt no victory nor joy—it only meant that she would have to face harder and harder battles, and risk death over and over again. She closed her fan and slipped it into her belt case, but when she tried to move her left hand, her shoulder ached with a searing pain. Biting her lip to stop herself from screaming, she glanced around at the audience on every side, feeling cold and nervous all of a sudden.

The air began to brighten again, and she soon found herself back at the waiting chamber. THe pain in her arm had suddenly grown, and she fell to her knees, fearing to look at the wound.

“Good job,” came Kairn’s voice from behind her. Maisha, still holding her shoulder, looked behind her to see the sorceress standing there. “Maisha? How’s that wound?”

Maisha glanced out the window at the battlefield. She saw the shape of a dragon circling one of the icy peaks, breathing flames. Hareth’s turn now.

SHaking her head, she turned back to Kairn and replied, “It hurts…”

Kairn was upon her in moments. She pulled the bloodied cloth away. Maisha caught a glimpse of her wound and shut her eyes. She had never been cut this deeply before, and it made her remember suddenly that she was made of meat, like all humans were.

“Maisha!” Kairn gasped. “You need a healer, quick.”

“Do you know any healing magic?” she asked, eyes still closed. Maisha felt the soft touch of lace, and the pain slowly became more bearable. When she finally dared open her eyes, once the pain had ended, she realised that it was Kalisha with one end of her ribbon against her wound, blood seeping into its fibres.

“Thank you,” Maisha said, brow easing.

Kalisha nodded and pulled the ribbon back, unafraid of the bloodstains. “I can clean it later,” she replied. “Just stay alive for the rest of the Tournament. Alright?”

“Congratulations,” Kariath added from beside her. Maisha smiled, and he managed a weak one in return, then she turned back to the window to watch the remaining battles.

Well, I’ve made it to the next stage, she told herself. I’ll worry about everything later.

Then, she glanced back at Kalisha and Kariath, and felt fear for them. This Tournament, she had realised, was more than just any tournament. It was about life and death, about trying your best to survive. For in this competition, it was already a reward if you lived through it. She had not known this before she had entered, but now that she did, it did not deter her from the prize at all. But all the more did she have to do her best to stay alive—her mother would only die sooner without her, and all alone as well.

“Maisha! Maisha, you did well!” It was Hareth, his dragon trailing behind him. “Congratulations to you. That was a spectacular fight! Seeing how you used the ice against him, that was brilliant!”

“Oh, thank you,” Maisha replied, meeting his eyes. “I wasn’t really watching your battle, how was it?”

Hareth shook his head. “I lost on time,” he replied, head bowing. “Better than losing by dying, I say! But you’re through. And you actually killed him!” He came closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, grinning.

Maisha didn’t quite know why, but the way Hareth was so liberal with touch made her nervous. She managed to smile back, then turned to the window to see what was now happening on the battleground.

Soon, Kairn’s turn came. SHe was brought onto the battlefield, her black dress stark against the shiny ice. Opposite her was a heavily-built man carrying a large magical sword.

With one command from the Tournament Master, the two huge hourglasses turned, and the battle began.

The man raised his sword, gathering magic in its blade. At the same time, Kairn held her right hand to her left shoulder, calmly reciting an incantation.

The man finished first. He leapt from spike to spike, nimble for his size. As he approached Kairn, the axe went higher into the air, and at the right moment, he leapt up, ready to deliver a mortal blow. The blade gleamed with reflections of the sky, swinging up over his head.

For a moment, Maisha feared for Kairn’s life. But at that moment also, Kairn’s eyes opened, pupils gone, and around her radiated a dark glow so powerful that Maisha could feel it chilling her from where she stood.

With one sweep of her arm, her opponent was thrown back onto the peak in front of her, blood streaking the ice from where his head slid across it. When he tried to raise himself, Maisha nearly screamed from the terror of what she saw: a piece of his scalp had been ripped off his head. There were wild cheers from the audience.

Maisha shuddered, suddenly remembering that she might have to face Kairn eventually.

“Kairn of Loane moves on to the final thirty-two,” the Master announced from the granite pillar by the battlefield. Kairn bowed to the half-dead man, before both vanished from sight.

Chapter 9

Maisha watched on. Seven more people entered the final thirty-two. Just as Kairn’s friends had portended days ago, all of them advanced to the next round, and all were as powerful as her, too. It was looking hopeless indeed. She shivered, unsure again of her chances of moving any farther in this tournament. It had seemed so easy to make the choice to come, the night she had stowed away aboard the ship.

But now she could see her competitors, she knew how little of a chance she stood. It would be almost impossible, she was starting to think. Against the likes of Kairn, what chance do I have? Is it worth fighting on?

I could resign…

Then, looking up, she recalled the reason she had come—the fiery certainty that she would do anything for her mother’s recovery. Maisha was battling for her. Not for herself.

“Gather, all winners,” the Master soon declared. Of the sixty-four who had been there at the start, only thirty-two stepped onto the battlefield, where the field of ice had vanished. Now, only a bare pit of sand remained where there had been towering mesas of ice. Maisha glanced around herself and saw the many remaining contestants for the Spirit of Niethe. Some faces looked familiar among them: Serith, Kairn’s other colleagues, Kariath, and Kalisha. Not one of the thirty-one around her looked happy at their success at entering the next round. Perhaps they, too, knew that it only meant risking death again, all for the sake of having their one wish granted. Maybe they were all just as willing to last through it as she was.

“The thirty-two of you have made it to the next stage of the Tournament,” the Master went on. “For that, I must congratulate you. Stay strong, and hold tight to your motivations. Do not give up, for the winner shall be the one who holds on the longest, and the hardest.”

Maisha could feel the tension ripple across the group. The group had been halved, and now the fighting was about to turn real.

“Once the final eight have been selected,” the Tournament declared then, “there will, as always, be a sacred ceremony in the temple of Nieth, where the Spirit of Niethe lies protected within the great founder’s sword, and all of them will be allowed to commune with it, to be…assessed.”

Maisha was thrilled at the thought. Commune with the sword of Niethe the Foresighted? I never dreamt of ever touching something so important!

Then she reminded herself that that was only if she entered the final eight.

“All the best of luck to you. The next round begins in three days!” the Master finished, before being swallowed in a flash of light and vanishing. The thirty-two were left staring up at an empty platform atop the granite pillar.

Maisha immediately began to wonder where her opponent for the next battle was. Some person named Aris, she recalled Hareth’s words. The one who had found the oval ruby.

Mounted atop his horse, Aris was not hard to find. He was on his way out of the arena when Maisha caught up with him. He turned to her and blinked, mildly puzzled. He had short black hair and loose green Cian robes, a bow hanging over his shoulder.

“You are Aris of Cian?” Maisha asked nervously.

The man bowed. “Yes, that is me,” he replied. “How may I help you?”

“I’m fighting you in the next battle,” she replied. “You have the oval ruby. My friend faced you today.”

Aris nodded, showing her the ruby he had. “You don’t appear very strong,” he said. “But for having come this far, you must be an excellent fighter.”

“I’m not really that good,” she replied.

He smiled wryly. “That’s the sort of thing I would tell my opponent before a fight, to have him let down his guard. What is your name?”

“Maisha,” she replied.

Aris nodded. “It is good to meet you, Maisha,” he said.

She tucked her hands behind her back. “Why, if I may ask, are you in the tournament?”

“It’s for my tribe,” he replied. “We bear a generational curse from a Demon Master, that our crops shall fail every year. I have consulted with every sage, and they have told me that to win this tournament is the only answer. I, as their chief, have decided to come forth and find the solution.” He sighed, looking at the sandy ground between his horse’s feet. “How about you, Maisha? Why do you want the prize?”

She shook her head. “My mother is dying,” she replied. “She, too, bears a curse. Now, her body is weak, and she will be gone by winter if I do not do something.”

“I see,” Aris replied, looking up in thought. “I am sorry for your predicament, Maisha.”

“As am I for yours,” she replied.

“Fight well. I’ll see you in three days.”

He rode away, faster now, and Maisha looked on from the arena entrance. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Kalisha there. “All the best with that coming fight,” she said.

“Great job today,” she replied, trying to sound cheery again. “Where’s your brother?”

“Ah, he’s some way behind,” she replied. Right on cue, Kariath entered the entrance hall, giving the pair a smile.

“You fight very well, Maisha,” he said as he stopped between them. Maisha smiled back.

As he and Kalisha departed, Maisha called out, “I can’t wait to see what you do next!”

The pair turned to return her greeting. “Yourself likewise,” answered Kariath, winking. Inhaling sharply, Maisha began on her way back to Kairn’s rented lodging.

She began to think about what she would say when she met the sorceress again. Would she congratulate her? Because she was sure that she would sound far from sincere, having witnessed Kairn’s gruesome victory.

Maisha realised that she was beginning to grow familiar with the town. Already, she knew her way from the arena to the house. Making her way, she looked around at the shophouses of the street, where all sorts of items, like carved wood statues, jewellery and magic items were sold. The smells wafting from the restaurants in the early evening made her stomach growl, but she knew she would not be able to afford any of that with the seven gold coins she had left.

Persisting, she went on past the shophouses, until she arrived at the one in which Kairn stayed.

Kairn’s shoes lay neatly at the door. Maisha knocked hard a few times on the door and waited. The sky was already dark as the sea, the sunlight only a dim glow from behind the shophouses.

“Is that Maisha?” Kairn’s voice asked as the door creaked open. The room’s interior was warmly lit by the fire in the fireplace. On the table sat two steaming bowls of stew with bread, she noticed as she walked in.

“DId you cook that?” Maisha asked, surprised that the great sorceress knew how to do such a thing. Maisha had always viewed Kairn not only as distant, but as one who could not be bothered by such matters as cooking.

Kairn nodded, pulling a chair for her. Maisha was drawn by the delicious smell of the warm stew, realising how empty her stomach felt. She sat down and immediately began to eat, savouring every mouthful of the food.

“You cook well,” she said when she finally finished. Kairn nodded in thanks, though she did not smile.

“Maisha,” she sighed. “I am sorry you had to see what I did in today’s battle.”

Maisha tilted her head, blinking. She inevitably began to replay the battle in her mind—the man with the axe being thrown against a pillar of ice, his scalp tearing away—

“It scared me, that’s all,” Maisha replied, slightly surprised to see the regret in Kairn’s eyes. Slowly, she let out a long breath and asked, “How did it feel, to do that?”

Kairn turned to the staircase, beginning to climb. “I didn’t enjoy it at all,” she answered. “I hated it. But I had no choice but to do it. No one must defeat me before I reach the top eight.”

Top eight? Maisha was intrigued. Did that mean that she did not actually want the prize? Had that been a slip of the tongue? There was something odd about this, but Maisha could not puzzle it out.

 

Chapter 10

Maisha decided to explore more of the inland parts of Ilere. The past week, she realised, had mainly been spent near the coast, where the arena was, and where the house was near. Now, she felt that she should take a look around the rest of the city. Having woken up very early, Maisha was out of the house before sunrise. She felt the cool air of the dawn on her skin, and smiling, began in the direction of the fountain, the deepest inland she had ever been before.

The familiar white structure with its decorative swans and dolphin spouts stood out against the cobblestone street in the dim blue light of morning. She smiled at the sound of water leaping from the dolphins’ mouths, splashing into the sparkling pool below. Maisha watched as her reflection was continuously shattered by the sprays, before breaking free of the hypnosis and continuing towards the deeper parts of the city.

The market she had first seen soon came into view again, the cloth canopies of the many stalls still standing around the huge plaza. THe torches along the streets no longer shone, and all was dark. Maisha walked in its direction, planning to go beyond it to the streets beyond. That way, she figured, I’ll have a landmark to lead me back. In case I lose my way.

The market was still deserted at that time in the morning, and devoid of life, the plaza had a strangely chilling atmosphere. Maisha soon got beyond the marketplace, and a whole new, unfamiliar view met her. Another street, running perpendicular to the marketplace street, stretched on either side of her, lined with shophouses with the same style as those on the street where she was staying, but larger, and with more trees along the roadside.

Smiling, Maisha turned left, looking on down the street, lined with houses on either side, like a grand corridor welcoming her to walk along it. She dashed on, past the waking households, up till the end, where the road branched left and right, across which stood a huge marble temple.

Its slanting walls pointed to the sky, the central two-storey room circular, like the temple of her home island, built in honour of Rheis the Shadow, except that that one had black walls made entirely of obsidian. 

This temple must be in honour of Niethe the foresighted, then, Maisha thought. She was tempted to enter it, but her stomach chose that moment to remind her that she had not had breakfast yet.

Deciding to return another day, she ran back down the street, arriving again at the market, where activity was already beginning. From there, she remembered the way back to Kairn’s rental, and soon arrived there, panting and sweaty.

I need to take a good bath soon, she reminded herself as she knocked. I wonder if they’ve got town baths here as well. Maybe I’ll have to bathe in a river if I can’t find one.

Kairn soon opened the door to let Maisha in, expressing concern at her little disappearing act. Maisha apologised while the sorceress went about preparing breakfast. For some reason, Maisha felt embarrassed that she was watching a powerful master of dark magic, a national hero, make breakfast, and even more so that it was for her. WHen Kairn was done, she thanked her profusely, before starting to eat.

“No need to thank me,” Kairn replied. “I enjoy your company, and I don’t mind providing.”

“Just wondering,” Maisha said between mouthfuls, “do you know if there are any town baths in this place?”

Kairn looked upward in thought. “I might have passed one before,” she replied. “Wait…yes, it was close to the coast, but I don’t exactly recall where it was. Near a river, almost certainly.”

Thinking back to the river in which she had washed her clothes a few days ago, she nodded in thanks.

“So…what are you going to do today?”

She thought for a moment before replying, “Go to the beach, I guess. I don’t really know what else I want to do today.”

“Enjoy yourself,” Kairn replied. Maisha nodded and ran upstairs to her room to get her bag. Then, after waving Kairn goodbye, she went out of the house, shutting the door with a click.

Looking up as she noticed how dark it was, Maisha realised that there was a thick layer of clouds over her head. It’s going to rain today, she thought, running along to the beach. I should make full use of today before that starts.

Thankfully, the road that led straight to the beach took no more than a few minutes to traverse, and she was there almost at once.

By coincidence or otherwise, Hareth was patrolling the beach on Xore, soaring through the sky over her. Maisha thought of walking onward before he saw her, but it was too late, as he instantly landed next to her, leaping off Xore’s back.

“How are you doing, fair lady,” he asked with a smile. “Here to train?”

Maisha nodded. “Could I just head off as if you didn’t see me?” she asked.

Hareth seemed taken aback at first, and slightly hurt, but he immediately smiled again. “Why, of course, as you please, Maisha,” he replied, and he stepped back towards his dragon.

Shaking her head, she took her fan out of her belt pouch. The battles are going to get harder, she reasoned. Against people like Kairn, I am helpless unless…unless I find their weaknesses, or a way to defend myself against their magic.

Flicking the fan open, she began to think about how she could, perhaps, repel spells. She knew her ring of wind would do nothing against Kairn’s shadowy magic.

Logically, a barrier of light would hold a dark spell off easily. But Kairn was much more powerful than any ordinary sorceress. She needed an extremely powerful light shield—one that would take up all her focus and imagination.

I’m sure those eight aren’t invincible! She thought furiously. Waving her fan from side to side, she tried to imagine a great shield of bright, pure light, unwavering and powerful, growing around her.

She opened her eyes and saw a net of light spreading over her, arching overhead in a hemisphere. The strands of light were uneven, crisscrossing each other at odd angles.

No, not good enough! It’s got holes! She focused more, pouring as much energy as she could into the shield around her, still waving the fan with her tiring arm.

Finally, she opened her eyes again. The shield was perfect—no holes at all, surrounding her vision with light, the heat of it overpowering.

Like my wind shield, I think this one will take a while to wear off. But I really take too long to conjure it up! I must practise!

With a hard wave of the fan and a song-spell, a huge gale rose, meeting resistance from the shield for a while, before it was shattered like a bowl which had hit the floor.  The beach soon became visible again, looking dim after the time she had spent within the glowing shield.

Looking up again, Maisha realised that the entire sky was crowded with great thunderclouds. It seemed like it might start to pour any moment. Even the sea looked greyer, the waves rising higher than before.

Before she knew it, the rain was shooting down from the clouds, hitting her head and shoulders, splashing in her eyes and dripping down her hair. She hastily searched the area for a place where she could take shelter, and almost immediately saw a lighthouse up a short slope, which seemed near enough to run to.

Closing her eyes and aiming for it, she dashed through the downpour towards the uphill slopes to the cliff. Her feet soon met hard, rocky ground, and ignoring the cold wet drops washing down her face, she ran into the lee of the lighthouse, where no rain could reach her.

There, huddled against the white wall and shivering, Maisha began to squeeze water from her hair. The door was close by, but exposed to a little rain. I’m sure the owner of this lighthouse is in there, and I hope they don’t mind me going in to wait until the rain stops.

 

Chapter 11

Maisha felt strangely nervous about going to knock on the door. But every gale of wind made her shiver violently, so at last, she walked through the spraying rain to knock.

After a few hard raps, there was the sound of thumping footsteps coming down some stairs within. The door soon opened in the wind and rain, and Maisha was shocked to find herself face to face with a thick mat of white hair. She looked a slight way up and saw the man’s face, short white beard, and moustache covering his chin and the front of his chest. His hair was grey, and deep wrinkles creased his forehead and the corners of his eyes.

“Er…excuse me, sir,” she said nervously.” May I wait inside until the rain stops?”

To her shock, the old man chuckled and nodded. “Come in, poor girl,” he said. Maisha nodded and stepped into the dark interior of the round bottom room of the lighthouse.

Maisha was grateful for the warmth of the room. A few strands of light drifted from the room above the stairs, showing to her the empty walls of the room, traces of the dust of past years lying in the corners.

Looking up again, Maisha saw the man’s silhouette, halfway up the spiralling staircase. He called her to come, and feeling out of place, she climbed the stairs after him. Beneath her shoes, she felt the wood creak. This place was ancient, and it seemed that no one else lived here. The old man still had a strength about him, even at his age. 

“This place is not much,” he said regretfully as they entered the middle landing. THe walls were round, enclosing a dusty wooden floor with an old carved table in the centre, and a tiny mattress next to the little fireplace. Maisha smiled to see how cosy it looked.

“I like it,” she replied, recalling how similar it was to her own home. “I live in a place like that, up on Loane.”

The man nodded with understanding. “I had no idea someone so young would live in a tiny old hole like my own. It’s…well, it has been my duty to keep the lighthouse since my father handed me the legacy at his death.” He fell silent and sighed, as if reliving some kind of memory in his mind.

He invited Maisha to sit down on the floor by the fireplace. She did so gladly, turning her head to watch as he opened a wardrobe on the wall next to his mattress and produced a tin of herb leaves from within, before walking over to the table and pouring some hot water from the jug there into two cups. This reminded her of the way her mother used to brew herbal drinks for her.

“You said that you live on Loane,” the man said as he sat down as well. “Are you by any chance here to take part in the Tournament of the Founders?”

Maisha nodded. “I hope I can win the prize for my mother,” she replied. “She’s dying.” She sighed and looked down into her cup of clear herbal tea, tinged lightly with yellow.

“I see…it is quite an ordeal, to have to watch someone waste away.”

There was a long period of silence. Then, Maisha finally said, “Have you always lived in this lighthouse?”

The man nodded, taking a look around at the small space. “Like I told you, my father used to own this lighthouse,” he began. “This part of the coast is very rocky, with all those cliffs and undersea structures. My grandfather said that in his forefathers’ time, hundreds of misguided ships were wrecked in this part of the bay. So a group of them decided to build a lighthouse, as a warning for sailors.”

Maisha looked about as well, amazed that a person could actually live in a lighthouse. She had always thought that lighthouse owners came in the evening to light the light in the gallery, then left, but she supposed everything had to be watched over.

“Young lady, what is your name?” the man asked.

“My name is Maisha,” she answered. “What’s yours?”

He looked back at her, eyes smiling. “Rhyne,” he replied. “The one and only keeper of the Ilere lighthouse.” He stood up slowly, stumbling back to the table to put down his empty cup.

“I was—just wondering,” Maisha said, “Who’s going to keep the lighthouse after you?”

That made Rhyne smile. “Ah…I do not know yet,” he replied. “It could well fall to waste, and then…” Maisha knew what he was thinking—ships would be wrecked on the bay waters again if no one took over. But someone had to, the king surely wouldn’t allow that to happen.

He inhaled deeply. “You know,” he says, “the light of the lighthouse didn’t always have to be watched. It used to shine by itself, or so my grandfather said, under the spirit of the Shield of Niethe. But it was stolen away in my grandfather’s time, and it stopped shining for a while, until my great-grandfather decided to light it again with magic. It has been a responsibility passed down for three generations now—the eldest son will stay at the light every night, keeping it aglow for the dark hours.”

Maisha began to mull over these words. “Who could steal the Shield?"

“That is because the lighthouse is not just any lighthouse,” Rhyne replied. “The light upstairs, in the top room—it upholds the veil that keeps the darkness out of Ilere. It is an important source of protection. The ones who built it gave it the power to keep evils out of the city. And it symbolises peace and protection, too. That’s why the people of Niethe never went to war after that. This lighthouse is the thing that shields the whole continent, and I am its last keeper. For now, at least.”

Maisha looked down. “But why not ask someone else to take your job over?”

“The lighting of the lamp is a form of magic that takes years to learn. This is why fathers pass it to sons…but I have no sons, as you can see, and I have wasted years teaching apprentices who chose to leave before their training was complete. We can only hope that the Demon Masters do not catch wind of this before a replacement is found…”

Her thoughts grew wild with terror. Perhaps the Shield had been stolen by a Demon Master—it did not sound far-fetched to imagine this was the case.

Stop making yourself afraid for no reason, the more rational side of her mind told her. The demons have been at bay for centuries, why should they find an entry point now?

But many strange things were possible—why not this? What if the world was in danger?

“Would you like to go and look at the lantern in the top room?” Rhyne asked.

Maisha nodded eagerly. All her gloom and uncertainty vanished with that proposition. 

“Get up then, I’ll show you something I have hardly shown anyone else before,” he replied. Maisha did so, standing up and following Rhyne to the next flight of stairs. “It is quite lonely up here on the best of days.”

Maisha secretly wondered how any of his forefathers ever found parents for their children if they lived like he did, but she didn’t say so. RHyne didn’t seem to notice her thinking, and he continued to walk up the spiralling stairs.

Soon, they arrived at an old wooden hatch whose colour matched the stairs, dull in the darkness. They had long left the fire behind, and now, the only light they could see by was the thin sliver of grey coming from the edges of the door.

There was the sound of jingling keys as Rhyne unlocked the door. Immediately, light poured into her vision, and Maisha took a while to adjust to it. She climbed into the brilliant room.

As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she saw the gallery for the first time. Thick pillars separated the huge glass panels that formed the walls, allowing a full view of the rainy sea. Already, the rain was growing gentler, but nowhere near soft enough for her to go all the way back to Kairn’s lodgings.

Turning around, she saw the lantern—a huge transparent gem, larger than her head, attached to the ceiling by a steel ring connected to chains. Maisha reached out to touch the gem, and it swung gently when her fingers met it.

“I keep it lit every night,” he said, coming to her side. “I usually sleep during the day. But…well, you woke me up.”

Maisha apologised, but Rhyne told her she didn’t have to. “I’m glad you woke me up, Maisha,” he said. “Most days, no one ever knocks. Now, isn’t that sky beautiful?” He pointed through the window. He turned to glance at the city, and Maisha’s eyes followed. She could see the road in the distance, all the shophouses blending together under the rain. “I wish I could see the city more often, but the lighthouse always needs tending. But with such a view, I almost don’t regret it at all. For the good of Niethe, I must stay.”

He said nothing, only continued to gaze longingly at the rainy city.

Looking up again at the point where the gem’s chain touched the ceiling, Maisha saw a hole shaped like an oval, the chains all attaching around its perimeter. “That’s where the shield used to be,” said Rhyne, gaze following hers. “Now, I would love to host you, but there is not much out up in here. Will you stay until the rain stops falling?” She nodded. “Then we had better return below.”

Turning back to the hatch, which now hung open, she reached a foot into the blackness, the step giving a loud creak as she placed her weight on it. Slowly, she climbed back down to the landing below, then raced down the stairs to the living room. She heard a thump as Rhyne shut the hatch above.

Soon, they were both seated in front of the fireplace again. They began to talk about the Tournament, and their conversation in the warmth went on for more than an hour.

“Why don’t you go check if it’s stopped raining?” Rhyne suggested, stifling a yawn.

“I’ll head off, don’t you worry,” she said. “Have a good rest.” She turned around and climbed down the stairs. She had half expected him to follow, but perhaps he was too sleepy and had already dozed off. 

Maisha slowly pushed the door open. The rain was already a light, misty drizzle, blurring the air before her. Turning back to whisper a goodbye to Rhyne and the lighthouse, she ran into the thin rainfall. As fast as she could, she raced down the rocky slope, back to where the path met the base of the rock.

Once she arrived back at Kairn’s door, her hair and clothes still damp from the rain, she knocked. The sorceress was soon there, holding it open for her, looking quite surprised at her state.

“Just the rain,” Maisha reassured her as she entered, feeling the warmth and dryness of the granite-walled sitting room engulf her. She sat down on the thick rug in front of the fire and almost instantly felt the weight of sleep on her eyelids. Giving in, she lay down on the rug and let her eyes close, sinking into sleep, the world before her washing away into comforting darkness.

Chapter 12

Maisha was woken by hunger. Looking out of the window, she saw that it was past noon, the sky clearer than ever after the storm. On the trees outside, she saw the water dripping off the shiny leaves.

Standing, she shuffled to the dining table near the sitting room. There was a plate of food covered with black silk cloth. On top of it, on thin white paper, was a note telling her that that was her lunch.

After lunch, there was not much to do. Maisha took out her fan again, giving it a few flaps. The air before her whooshed about in a tiny whirlwind, making her hair flutter backwards.

Soon, she was practising there in the sitting room, extinguishing the candles on the walls one by one with her spells. She took care not to try any that were too destructive, and after a while, she collapsed back into an armchair, exhausted. For some reason, though, she felt a sense of achievement after managing to perfect a few spells.

I’d really better light the candles again before Kairn comes back, she thought, standing up in the middle of the dark room.

Hoping that her idea would work, she pointed her fan at the wick of a candle. She closed her eyes and began to think of fire, but not intensely. Nothing seemed to happen.

I must direct my energy through the fan, she thought, focusing her concentration along the eight aligned strips of wood that formed .frame of her closed fan.

All of a sudden, her mind seemed to lock with the weapon, and a whoosh of heat burst out of the end. Maisha opened her eyes and saw that the candle was lit, and her fan glowed blue. SHe could feel the fan’s energy within her brain and through her skin, leaping about with myriad different sensations.

As she began to light the rest of the candles, her mind lost focus, and pulled away from the fan, back behind her eyes.

She suddenly recalled what Kalisha had said about merging, and wondered if that was what she had just managed. If so, then I should see if I can use it for my next battle!

The room lit again, Maisha went up the stairs to her room. Sitting on her bed, she tried to merge with her fan over and over again. With each try, it got easier, and by the time the light died outside and Kairn returned, she had built a few mental tricks that made it easier.

 

The next day passed quickly, with Maisha training feverishly through the morning and afternoon. Kairn disappeared for just as long, and she wondered if the woman was also getting prepared for the next day of battles. She spent much of the evening lying in bed, thinking about her life. She felt a strange foreboding, the sense that something bad was about to happen—all the bad things she was learning about from the other competitors and from Rhyne.

The next morning was upon Maisha before she knew it. Leaping down the stairs, her body tense in the cold, she found Kairn eating a slice of bread on the sitting room armchair. If she was nervous as Maisha was, she did not show a trace of emotion, did not even notice her arrival. Maisha went to the table and saw a plate with bread. Guessing that it was meant to be hers, she took it and ate it quickly, anxiety making her chew faster. Her cold hands could hardly feel its texture.

Today…it’s going to be harder today, she kept thinking to herself. I hope I don’t…

“Good luck today, Maisha,” Kairn called over. Maisha turned. She was smiling from the chair. Her left hand was toying with the ring on her right, twisting it around her finger.

“Are you going soon?” Maisha replied, looking out the window. The sun was still low, the skies just beginning to fade from pink to blue.

Kairn smiled back. “I was meant to meet my colleagues today,” she replied. “But I will see you at the arena. Take care until then.” Maisha nodded with a smile as she sat down with her breakfast, and Kairn stood up, opening the door to leave. “I’ll be waiting for you here this afternoon. So survive till then.” Then she shut the door behind her.

Maisha found her eyes drifting to the window again. From inside the cosy house with dull grey walls and wood-brown window frames, the sky was brilliant, like a gem, unclouded after the two dark days of rain. A breeze drew itself through the rectangular hole, making the candles flicker and go out. Maisha stood to enjoy the few seconds of that blissful breeze, trying to forget her nerves.

After a while, Maisha came back down to the ground and sank into the armchair.

Thinking back to the previous battle, she recalled her short conversation with Aris. He had a great cause, and the prize probably meant as much to him as it did her. He would not be easy to defeat at all, and he used poisonous arrows. One hit from him, and she was as good as dead.

Maisha did not notice as time flew by. At about an hour before noon, she suddenly remembered she needed to have lunch before the battle, and she departed with her fan and the small bag of seven gold coins she had left from Kairn’s gift.

After lunch, with two gold coins left, Maisha ran at full speed towards the arena, her heart starting to thud again. She burst into the entrance hall gasping for breath, amid the audience’s cheering. She looked up and felt a lump grow in her throat. The audiences loved to see bloodshed, and if she was losing, everyone would be cheering her opponent on. Today, the battleground was an uneven, rocky terrain.

Almost immediately, there was the clang of the entrance gates. She looked about, and spotting Kalisha and Kariath, she ran over.

“You’ll do amazing today,” Kalisha whispered as the Tournament Master reiterated the rules.

“Do your best!” she exclaimed, smiling. “I will be rooting for your victory, both of you.”

“I look forward to watching you deliver your foe a crushing defeat,” Kariath replied with his usual lopsided smirk, and Maisha found herself smiling.

“Now, the first battle will begin!” the Master announced. “Competitors, gather in the waiting chamber!” Together, they walked toward the small room that overlooked the arena. Two people stayed behind for the first battle—the Gathean hunter, as well as a mage she recognised as one of Kairn’s colleagues.

“First battle—Theiron of Gathe against Nion of Fehris!” With that command, the hourglasses turned, and the battle began.

Maisha watched the battles, her hands and feet growing cold from her nerves. Searching the room, she saw Aris standing by his horse near the entrance, looking a lot calmer than she felt. He thinks it’ll be an easy battle, she thought with a flare of annoyance. I won’t make it easy, no matter how kind he is!

“Maisha of Loane and Aris of Cian!” The announcement came suddenly, and she leapt when she heard it. Looking up, she noticed that Aris had already left.

She felt a pat on her shoulder and turned to see it was Kariath. “Give it all you’ve got,” he said with an earnest smile.

The yelling of the audience immediately filled her ears as she arrived before the Master. Beside her, Aris gave her a nod, and they were transported onto the battlefield. As her feet met the bumpy stone, Maisha felt a thrill of terror and excitement as she faced the mounted archer across the rocky ground.

“Begin!” All around, Maisha heard the creak of hourglasses turning as she flicked her fan open.

Aris flew forth atop his horse, stringing three arrows. By instinct, Maisha waved the fan hard, and the wind that erupted blew the arrows off course. There was no time to rejoice in her success. Another arrow had been notched, and even as she saw it flying, she dove to the right, hearing it whizz past her. Heart thudding, she flapped her fan again and sent a gale at Aris. He doubled back, shielding his eyes.

The instant the wind ended, Aris notched another arrow. She had expected him to fire it, and got ready to dodge, but his next move was unexpected.

His horse leapt towards her, and as he flew past, with one savage thrust over the edge of his saddle, he sank the arrow into her arm. A poison arrow.

Clutching at her wound, she struggled to lift the fan. She slashed through Aris’ horse’s left foreleg with the fan-blade, and it reared up with a screaming whinny, blood spraying, throwing Aris straight into the ground, Racing towards him, she slashed her fan at his bow arm, and another huge gash appeared.

Her whole arm was numb now, and she was starting to feel dizzy. She staggered to Aris’ side, swaying. “Aris…you’ve killed me…” She looked down  at the horse rider as he stared up at the sky. She held the fan to his neck, her whole body heaving with the effort of breathing. His legs were twisted, and he could not rise. Slowly, Maisha felt the numbness creep to the ends of her fingers, her hand slowly losing colour.

Aris gave a groan of excruciating pain. Maisha stared down at the pitiful man, recalling the reason he had come. Her hourglasses held twice as much sand as his.

“If only there were another way for your tribe,” she whispered, eyes stinging.

She did not kill him; she only stepped back. A minute later, the sand ran out of Aris’ hourglasses, and the Tournament Master called for the end of the battle. “Maisha of Loane moves on to the final sixteen!”

By then, stars were exploding in her vision, but she managed to stumble back to the waiting chamber, feeling her heartbeat through her whole body, the taste of blood on her tongue.

“Maisha!” Kariath’s muffled voice called from somewhere ahead. With a gasp, she collapsed to her knees, blind, arms losing all feeling.

She felt arms pick her up from the ground, the thud of running footsteps. THe pain and difficulty of breathing grew continuously as she came closer and closer to unconsciousness. Finally, her will gave out. Her mind went blank, spinning away into a world of nothing.

 

Chapter 13

The first thing she knew was the sensation of coldness on her wounded arm. Forcing her eyelids apart, she saw the wooden walls of a healer’s room, lit well by sunlight. Looking from the wall upward, she saw a woman squatting beside her, holding an ice compress to her shoulder.

“Are you feeling better?” she inquired. Realising that only a trace of weakness remained in her arm, she nodded. She struggled into a seated position, and when she finally did, she inhaled deeply.

Then, she was filled with wonder. I survived the poison. She began to smile.

“Thank goodness,” said a voice from nearby. “I almost feared you wouldn’t survive.”

Maisha turned to see Kariath sitting in a waiting chair, and he stood up, eyes widening, when she sat up.

It was only then, watching him descend to her side in a kneel, that she noticed that the intensity of his concern made her feel warm and bubbly inside, and when he came to sit down on the edge of the bed beside her, that feeling intensified.

Oh, no! She thought, starting to panic.

“Maisha, are you feeling well, now?” he asked. She nodded silently back, trying not to meet his eye.

“Yes, I’m alright,” she managed. Then she turned to the healer and bowed. “Thank you for helping me, you saved my life.”

“Come on now, I’ll take you back to where you live,” Kariath offered. “My sister would have gone back to the house by now—she won’t need me around for a while.”

“I—ah, of course!” she burst out, willing herself to rise and follow him.

They soon began down the street from the arena, Maisha brushing her hair into place whenever he wasn’t looking at her. I must be a mess after that battle! Maybe it was all the attention he was showing her, finally getting to her.

“Did you win?” she asked as casually as she could.

He grinned. “Of course I did,” he replied. “You did well in your own fight. Carrying on even with one arm being attacked by poison. It was very impressive.” 

“I—well—thank you,” she stammered.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “I hope you’re not still overcome by my being a lord. We’re in a different city now—I’d like to be seen as your equal.”

They had arrived at Kairn’s house, all too soon. Maisha walked up to the front door and knocked. The sorceress soon opened the door, and only then did Kariath wave goodbye and leave, though she stood there watching him until he had disappeared.

Stop that, Maisha! He’s just trying to befriend you because you’re in a strange new land!

Without noticing it, she had reached the bottom of the stairs. “You look troubled,” Kairn said as she watched her go. “That was quite the fearsome battle you had.”

“I’m alright now,” she replied. “Is Aris well?”

“He had to be carried off the field, but he is alive.” Maisha felt guilt well up in her chest. Without the logic of battle to numb her, she could not help feeling cruel for making him unable to walk. What if he never recovered?

“You may have missed the announcement, but the next battle is in two days’ time,” Kairn continued, then paused, before adding, “You’re battling one of my colleagues.”

Maisha noticed a deep terror in Kairn’s eyes for the first time. Perhaps she knew the girl stood no chance against whoever it was, but could not tell her. “I’ll…I’ll do my best,” she promised. Then, softer, she added, “to survive.”

Kairn nodded once and quietly walked to the sitting room. Maisha ascended to her room and fell backward onto her bed, her thoughts whirling. Her mind returned to the thought of Kariath offering to walk her back. She tried over and over to prepare the start of their conversation the next time they met.

She covered her face with her hands. How had this hit her so fast? I can’t let this distract me from winning! Then a grim thought hit her. What if she had to fight him? There was no way she would keep her focus long enough to beat him.

An hour later, as she went down the stairs, she saw Kairn holding her ring again, casting spells upon it. “It’s getting too loose,” she complained as magic swirled around it.

“I hope you don’t lose it!” Maisha replied, then stepped out of the door.

Outside, she looked up at the sky and took a breath of the afternoon wind. Now, she figured, would be a good time to visit that temple again. She took the familiar route, past the market and the same street, up to the great white temple with its tapering three-storey towers. Running over, she saw that the temple was similar to the one back home. There was no door, so she simply took her shoes off and entered.

Within the walls, the room was dark. The only source of light was an object in the centre. Around it, people knelt and sat on the floor, eyes closed and heads bowed in prayer, hands on their laps. Maisha silently made her way up to the glass case enclosing the light source and knelt down in the same fashion, whispering a prayer for her battle in two days’ time. “Niehte the FOresighted…help me stay alive and unharmed…and if you would be so generous, let me win…for it would save my mother’s life…”

She suddenly became aware of a soft, whooshing voice from the glow inside the glass case.

“Young lady…come here. Come here and reach for me…”

Maisha glanced around. No one seemed to be speaking. The voice came again, and she turned towards its source—the object within the glass. Its voice grew stronger, the bright light throbbing softly with every word.

Reach for it? Carefully, she stood, and reached out to touch the glass, but felt nothing solid: her hand went right through it as if it were an illusion.

“Come here…” the voice repeated, only a whisper. She felt cold air wash against her face as she drew closer. The light of the object was growing in her eyes.

Slowly, she reached out and touched the object. She felt something long and leather-wrapped, a hilt, a long blade suspended in midair.

The Sword of Niethe…

In that instant, she was pulled into another world, a world of light.

“Young woman…one of the final sixteen…you must know what I see.” A face appeared before her, a bright white face, expressionless. Maisha stood there, feeling cold and speechless.

“Niethe?” she replied, not knowing what else to say.

“A close friend will turn against you…” it went on. “But return in the last moments. There will be death… A day of darkness… But you might save the world.”

Maisha shivered at the prophecy.

“The demons will enter the world. This is their sign.”

Before her eyes, a huge black symbol appeared—three black stars connected by black lines wreathed by snakes, and a black flame in the centre, curling upward.

“Guard yourself carefully. The time shall come on its own, and you must be ready…”

Then, the light died down, and she found herself standing before the shining sword. Taking a few steps back, she slipped through the glass wall again and fell to her knees on the reflective stone. She reached out tentatively to brush the glass, but it was solid now.

“Spirit of Niethe…keep me safe till then,” she prayed, unable to stop shaking.

 

The day passed fast. Maisha spent her time on the beach practising her light shield. It still took a lot of her energy and she was still too slow to create it, and in the end, her shields became worse and worse as the day passed, draining her more each time. Finally, she had had enough of practising, and she sat, angry and exhausted, on a rock near the lighthouse cliff. She felt the rough black surface of the rock as she cursed herself in her mind.

I am battling a master sorcerer! They’re probably as powerful as Kairn!

“Maisha.” Maisha looked up and saw Aris standing with a cane, without his horse or his bow. Her face brightened when she saw that he could still stand. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” The evening breeze blew from the sea, tossing his black hair about.

“You deserved the win as much as I did,” she replied, turning to face him.

He bowed his head. “Thank you for sparing my life. Still having my breath is a prize in itself.” Raising his head again, faith burned in his eyes. “You do well tomorrow and get into the final eight—promise me that.”

There was such sincerity and sadness in his eyes that Maisha could not help but nod. “I promise,” she said. The wind flung her braids about. Normally, she noted, if someone had lost to her, they would probably have held ill will towards her for the rest of the tournament. But Aris was doing exactly the opposite.

“You’re very kind to me,” she said, and he nodded his head once.

“You deserve it,” he replied, then turned to depart.

 

Chapter 14

The sun had already descended past the horizon when Maisha turned and walked home, thinking. Is there a way to break curses? Maybe if the one who cast the curse died? Is that how curses work?

Maisha suddenly saw the potential in that idea. But Aris had said that a Demon Master had been responsible. Just thinking of meeting one of those beasts made her shudder.

“Kairn,” she said as she stepped into the house. “Can a curse be broken by killing the one who cast it?”

Kairn looked up from her letter, thought about the question, then nodded. “Yes, once the caster’s will is no longer existent, the curse cannot be sustained. But if the curse has caused damage, then the damage cannot be reversed, of course.”

Maisha looked up at the ceiling, thinking of her mother. The curse had merely weakened her lungs, but now, all the diseases had ravaged her so badly that she could never be healed by medicine. Even killing the one who cast the curse wouldn’t help, she realised. But for Aris and his tribe… There might be hope for them. If only someone could finally slay the Demon Master who had done it…

“Maisha, take care tomorrow,” Kairn said then. “Coraye is fearsomely powerful. He has mastered fire magic.”

Maisha thanked her and thought on this. She knew what that meant: she could use no fire for the next battle. Water would be a useful counter to that, she thought.

But to create a force of nature out of nothing would take immense concentration and strength. Even making plants was hard, even though it was her area of her greatest expertise, and her Transfer Magic helped with it. But making water was different. It would take practice.

After dinner, Maisha made up her mind to return to the beach to practice her water spells. Standing on the sand, she whipped her fan out and opened it. Then, closing her eyes to listen to the sound of waves, focusing on that sound alone, she tried to draw up their power from within herself, tried to imitate their rush and roar with her emotions. At last, with one wave of the fan, she sang a short song-spell that had whistled in the wind, and a huge rush of seawater burst from the cloth of the fan as its patterns glowed blazingly bright. The force of the jet of water flung her back as the drops showered over the sand and splashed into the waves.

Stop! She shut the fan, and like she had stoppered a hose, the water immediately stopped flowing.

“That was quite impressive,” said a familiar voice from behind her. She turned around to find Kariath walking towards her with his sword. “You’re going to dominate tomorrow’s battle if you can repeat that.”

Maisha felt heat surge through her body.  “I—thank you,” she stammered. He was going to be the death of her. Why was he paying her so much attention? 

“Do your best tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for you in the final eight.”

“You—you too,” was all she managed in reply. “Do your best at yours.”

“It’s a deal,” he laughed, reaching out to pat her left arm from the side. She almost leapt up at his touch, though before she could steady herself, he had turned away to depart. “I have high hopes for you, Maisha.”

As he left, Maisha smiled awkwardly after him. I love the way he says my name…

Then, she raced towards the cliff and sat down on a small rock beside it, sighing. Where had this come from? It wasn’t just that he was one of the most beautiful people she’d ever seen, even if that was part of it. He had also given her the gem that had let her into the tournament, and he had carried her to the healers, too.

But why would a lord ever pay a gardener like her any heed beyond acquaintancehood? She sighed again, wishing she could just untangle herself from this knot of emotions.

Before she knew it, she was beginning to feel sleepy. Turning in the direction of the road, Maisha decided that she didn’t feel like returning yet. I hope Kairn doesn’t get too worried.

Lying down on the rock and gazing past the lighthouse beam sweeping across the sky, Maisha looked up at the sky, streaked with thin clouds. Then, without having to try, she fell asleep.

 

A terrified shout woke Maisha up. When her eyes opened, she expected to see daylight, but instead found herself staring at the cloudy night sky.Standing quickly, she turned to the source of the shout, her heart nearly stopping when she saw that it was from the lighthouse.

Afraid but curious, she began to climb the more gently sloped parts of the cliff, before running straight to the lighthouse. Rhyne! She thought, heart booming in her ears. 

The door hung ajar, the interior dark as the night. Throwing her fears aside, she went in, and panicking, groping about, located the stairs. In an instant, she had raced to the top, panting with effort.

Nothing. Maisha glanced about in the dark, sparks flashing in her eyes. Searching, she found the next flight of stairs. Of course, Rhyne would be in the light room, keeping the light shining…

The light! Had the light been shining when she had been running up the slopes? She should have been looking, but she had been in too much of a hurry.

She plucked her fan off her belt and waved it gently, thinking of light. Its patterns began to glow, and as her gaze swept the landing, she saw something she never wanted to see again: Rhyne’s body, his neck just a stump.

Shuddering, her eyes darted about the room, searching for the culprit of the murder. But whoever it was had already vanished. Then in the dark, her light caught the gleam of something on the floor. She stooped to pick it up: a ring. She put it in her pocket, wondering if it was Rhyne’s, or something belonging to the murderer.

Then, shutting her eyes, she bent down and lifted Rhyne’s body. I wish I knew how to light the lantern…I wish he had taught me, she thought, staring up at the dim ceiling.

Dragging the body down the stairs, it bumped over each step. Maisha could smell the burnt flesh from the stump, but it wasn’t a fiery burning, but the burning of some sinister kind of magic. She stopped to rest at the table on the second floor, willing herself not to throw up. She had to get him out of here so he didn’t rot alone.

She willed herself down the last flight. Finally, as she approached the door, she heard the swoosh of the tides in the night. Calmed by the sound, she laid Rhyne’s body down by the door and rested her arms again. 

“You did too much work, for too little thanks,” she whispered, laying his body down under the stars, amid the whoosh of tides. “May your soul go to rest with the founders.”

Then, she ran back to the beach and up onto the street once more. With her fan as her torch, she asked about in the thinning crowd for healers or life mages—someone who knew how best to handle a corpse. “The man who keeps the lighthouse,” she said as she gathered a trio of strangers, “he’s dead.”

Once they had made for the lighthouse to take care of the corpse, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring again, clutching it—small and cold in her hand. She waved her fan over it, its bright glow throwing itself over the gem set into its exterior, and she realised she recognised it.

It was Kairn’s ring.

A sickening realisation fell upon her. Could it be? Was it possible? She shook her head as she stared down at it. Maybe she had mistaken someone else’s jewellery for hers—perhaps the style was popular. But the way he had died—it had resembled her arena kills. Clean, smouldering cuts.

Shaking with terror, Maisha began to walk unsteadily back. Kairn, who had been so kind, who had given her food every day…had that all been a pretence? Was she actually a murderer, disguising her crimes with heroics?

Suddenly, her honour and admiration for Kairn drained out of her.

Maisha walked slowly, now reluctant to return to Kairn’s rented house. What if she tries to kill me? What if she finds out I know?

Still, she knocked on the door, and Kairn was there to greet her with the smile she always wore.

“Thank you,” Maisha said, forcing a smile. Then she climbed the stairs back to her room without another word.

 

Chapter 15

Early the next morning, Maisha woke up in her bed again, and she had all of one minute of peace before remembering the horrific discoveries of last night. Had the light been lit last night? Had any ships wrecked on the cliffs? 

I wonder how long this peace will last, now that the keeper is gone…

Just then, her stomach growled, reminding her she still needed sustenance. Maisha walked down the stairs, dreading to meet Kairn. If there had been a mistake with the ring, then there was only one way to confirm it.

The woman was sitting at the dining table, a bun in one of her hands. “Is all well with you this morning?” she asked with a smile as Maisha appeared.

“Absolutely,” she replied. As Kairn took another bite of her bun, she glanced at her hand.

Maisha’s stomach flipped. There was no ring on her left middle finger, where it normally was. “Kairn…this is yours, isn’t it?” asked Maisha, hooking the ring out of her pocket and holding it up. The black gem sparkled in the morning light.

Kairn smiled. “I’ve been looking all over for it!” she exclaimed. “Where’d you find it?”

“Oh, it was,” she thought quickly, “upstairs, on my floor. It had rolled into my room.”

“Thank you so much,” Kairn said, taking the ring as Maisha held it out for her. “It is my magic focus, just as the fan is for you. I don’t know how I could have lost it. Come, have some breakfast.”

Maisha continued to force a smile as she sat down at the table and picked up the second bun on the plate. So it is hers, she thought, finding that her view of Kairn had completely shifted by now. She really did kill Rhyne. Why? Will she try to kill me, too?

After bathing in the washroom and getting changed into a new set of clothes—a light, pastel-green silk blouse with long sleeves, and a matching green skirt that fell to her knees—Maisha went back downstairs, waving to Kairn as she opened the door to leave.

“I’ve left you more money on the table,” the sorceress called. “whenever you want to have it.”

“Thank you very much,” she replied, conflicting emotions welling in her.

Picking up the bag, she untied the cord around the mouth and poured the contents from that bag into her own. This was more money than she normally ever carried, but perhaps to Kairn it was nothing.

Soon, slipping her fan into her belt again and hefting her bag on her shoulder, she left the house. Her breakfast was short and light, and then she made her way towards the arena, her nerves mounting by the minute.

As she was walking along the beach towards the arena, she heard a shout from behind her. “Maisha! Good luck on today’s battle!”  She whipped around to see Hareth walking towards her.

“Thanks!” she replied hastily. “Did you know about the lighthouse keeper getting murdered?”

“So you heard about it too?” he asked.

“I was the one who hauled his corpse out of the lighthouse,” Maisha murmured.

“Yes, one of my men said he heard his shout while on duty, and by the time he got there, there were people taking care of the body.”

“I gathered those people, too,” Maisha replied.

Hareth smiled fondly. “You’re quite good at gathering people around yourself, I’ve noticed. Now, don’t let me keep you from your fight—good luck!”

With a quick smile and a wave goodbye, Maisha sprinted quickly away.

 

Just before the gates clanged shut, Maisha dashed out onto the arena. Today, the battleground was a field of grass. Oh no, this Coraye could burn up the whole thing in an instant.

“Gather before me, competitors,” the Master announced right then. The sixteen remaining contenders stepped forward to gather at the foot of the pillar where he stood. She glanced around, searching for Kariath, and her heart leapt when she saw him near the base of the pillar, right hand on his sword’s hilt.

His head turned then, and he smiled when their eyes met. She felt a jolt through her chest and turned away quickly.

“I have not told you beforehand how the battle pairs will be decided this round, now that the gemstone matches are exhausted.”

Maisha paused. If they hadn’t been told…how had Kairn known who she would be battling?

“The winners of each group of the same gem will be paired with the winner of another. Garnet with Ruby, Amber with Carnelian, Turquoise with Aquamarine…” Long before the list had been read out, there was a great commotion as they searched for the one they were to face. She looked about for the one with the garnet in their hand.

Then she found it, and she met its holder’s eye. His eyes were red as sunset. When he saw her, he smirked.

“Kalisha of Rheisana and Nion of Fehris!” declared the Tournament Master. THe two pushed to the front, facing each other in front of the master’s pillar. Do your best, Maish thought, before turning to the waiting chamber and walking there, heart racing.

With one command from the Master, the two on the field began the battle. Kalisha’s magic centred around her ribbon, which she twirled in a dance, and in moments, she faded out of sight. 

Before Nion had the time to react, a blue sweep of cloth flashed out of the air and wound tightly around the sorcerer’s neck. Kalisha blinked back into view on the other end, pulling on the ribbon as hard as she could. Nion choked and gasped, and pointed a shaking finger at the girl.

Black waves whirled around it. “Get out of the way!” Maisha cried out, but her voice was drowned out by all the cheering. Even so, Kalisha immediately unwound her ribbon and leapt away as a dark beam shot at the spot where she had originally been standing. Kalisha stood panting, before tossing her ribbon up in the air and reciting a spell. At the same time, Nion lifted a hand and muttered spell-words.

WIth a powerful wave, Kalisha loosed her spell: a gust of wind. It met Nion’s dark spell in the air, washing it away in a blink. But Nion had been ready, and now he pointed his staff straight at the glittering wind, and black glass shards hurtled out of its end.

Kalisha quickly held up her ribbon, which glowed brilliantly. But it was not enough to halt the shards, which ripped right through and tore across her face. One struck her in the forehead. Screaming in pain, she clutched at her face with her left hand, blood pouring down one cheek, blinding her..

No! Kalisha’s doomed! Maisha glanced at Nion, swirling mists growing at his staff point. 

As soon as he swung it down to hit the ground, a black, sludge-like substance sprayed at the defenceless lady. No, no, no, she thought. Please let it miss her. Please—

Suddenly, she felt her heart lurch, like wings spreading wide, and heat filled her face. Even as she shuddered with the sensation, a white barrier rose before Kalisha, and the black liquid bounced off. All around the arena, the cheers stopped.

It had only lasted for one second, but Maisha knew she had not imagined it. She, or rather something in her, had created a shield for Kalisha.

The battle went on. Kalisha, face still bleeding from a hundred cuts, raised her ribbon with fresh magic. 

Nion pointed his staff at her again, teeth clenched. With a roar, he sent a bolt of black lightning at Kalisha. It struck her in the middle of her abdomen, and she collapsed backward into the grass, jerking uncontrollably. Maisha felt her whole body tense up. Kalisha! No! The dark sorcerer was all but ready to fire the killing blow, darkness boiling at the tip of his jewelled staff.

Kalisha got up in time to see the staff pointed at her. She began to recite a spell under her breath, eyes closed.

What kind of spell could save her now?

The moment Nion attacked, Kalisha vanished. For a moment, Maisha thought it had only been an invisibility spell, but moments later, the lady had reappeared at the other end of the field, out of her foe’s sight. Now! Maisha thought.

Stumbling, she twirled her ribbon in a circle, and a ring of silver tore out of its fabric, hurtling towards Nion. He whirled around and fired a wave of black that washed the ring away. But by now, Kalisha had readied another attack, and she flung the ribbon, which did not flutter like fabric but sprung, like a snake, taking on a life of its own, to coil around the sputtering sorcerer.

Kalisha descended to her knees, exhausted and ashen, while the ribbon crushed the sorcerer’s bones.

The last sands were tumbling through both hourglasses. The air was tense, no one daring to move, as Nion continued to be squeezed by the ribbon, and Kalisha fell onto her side, every breath laboured.

Finally, Nion stopped struggling and fell over, face blue. The ribbon wound itself again and returned to Kalisha’s hand, its glow fading back to sky blue. Kalisha slowly crawled back upright, and the Tournament Master called the end of the match.

“Kalisha of Rheisana moves on to the top eight!”

“Kalisha!” Maisha shouted as the lady shambled towards the waiting chamber. She could sense tension and muttering within the room when she went out to meet Kalisha. “You did really well.”

Kalisha smiled, shaking her head, eyes tired. She only shuffled the remaining way to the healers, then stumbled through the door, which they then shut behind her.

 

Chapter 16

Maisha watched in silent horror as the next two battles passed, both opponents terrifyingly skilled, yet unable to defeat the sorcerers whom they faced. These sorcerers—both Kairn’s friends—did not stop at defeat either: they slew their opponents where they stood. Knowing that her turn was coming next, her heart began to beat faster, legs starting to weaken.

“Maisha of Loane and Coraye of Cian!” the Tournament Master announced next. Dizzily, Maisha ran out of the waiting chamber, readying herself for her hardest battle yet.

In a blinding flash, the two had been transferred onto the battlefield, Coraye with shoulder-length black hair and a Cian-style cloak, glaring down at Maisha with scorn. His red gaze pierced through her, but she looked on resolutely back. In her chest, her heart was thudding madly.

“Begin!” the Master’s command came from nowhere. Coraye pulled from his belt a pair of claws. Maisha drew her fan, and feeling its familiar form in her fingers gave her comfort. She looked up to see that Coraye was gathering magic in his raised claws—then he sprung forward with a great slash. Black wind surged towards her, and she could hear it howling, tearing up the grass. By reflex, she waved her fan, and a gust flew out of it, both attacks colliding and dissipating between them.

Through the fading spells came a bolt of black like the one Nion had wounded Kalisha with. Too fast. She felt pain explode through her body, making her unable to move. As it subsided, she fell to her knees, every inch of skin flashing with pain. Ahead of her, through the blades of grass, she saw Coraye smiling as he readied another attack.

Maisha wanted to dodge out of the way, but her body refused to obey her. In her dizziness, she heard the audience once again cheering for her death, their screams deafening.

I can’t… Her arms and legs were locked. Sorry, Mother… Coraye’s magic crackled before her, and she waited for the attack to hit.

But it did not. She felt that rush of heat and power again, and when she peered up, she saw the same white barrier, holding back the spell. Behind it, she managed at last to crawl to her feet, feeling slowly returning to her legs. As soon as the barrier vanished, she lifted her fan, its patterns shining with magic.

All of a sudden, Coraye slashed his flaming claws at her, and two walls of flame roared forth. Maisha had just enough time to do three spins of her wind shield before the scalding flames engulfed her.

Surrounded by a storm of fire, Maisha began to sweat profusely, the drops running into her eyes. Then from the flames, Coraye pounced, swinging his claws at her as he flew. Waves of invisible magic hurled her backward, closer to the spreading fire. The wind shield batted the flames away, but they were also fanning them higher and higher.

I can’t keep defending—I need to fight, she thought. 

Just as Coraye disappeared back into the flames, Maisha sent a gust in his direction, clearing a path through the flames. Then, through the momentary tunnel of visibility, she turned the gusts into needles. Coraye’s eyes widened, and he stumbled with a scream as the needles began burying themselves in his back.

Now… She narrowed her eyes and thought of the ocean, focusing her attention on the fan in her hand. She thought of Rhyne, of the room in the lighthouse, watching the waves surge through the rain.

Her fan’s patterns glowed brighter, and her eyes unfocused on her fan in a familiar flash of heat—and just like that, they merged.

A spell burst through the flames to Maisha’s right—a wave of black, the same one Nion had used on Kalisha. Spinning that way, she ducked and waved her fan, feeling its spirit surge.

Like a great wave from the sea, water rushed outward from the fan’s cloth and washed over the field, all the flames going out. The water swelled to a tidal wave, knocking Coraye off his feet. Maisha stared as the walls of water soaked into the ground, and she saw that the grass had been charred to ashes.

Rage welling up inside her, Maisha waved the fan once more, this time focusing on the seeds buried in the ground. Before Coraye could climb to his feet, vines burst from the ground and wrapped themselves around his feet and arms.

She sprinted towards the immobile figure, and her fan glowed pure white. She flung her fan out as she descended towards the sorcerer, tearing the man’s throat.

He gurgled, coughed blood, then his head fell to his chest, and his body collapsed.

This time, Maisha turned away as soon as she could so she did not have to think of what she had just done. He had been intent on killing her—she could not have survived if she had not gotten him first. Relief flooded through her limbs, and she began to laugh. The audience was cheering for her now, and smiling, she ran off the battleground, back to the waiting chamber.

“Maisha of Loane moves on to the final eight!”

She leapt with joy as she heard those words. Final eight! She thought. I’m so close now. I am so close to keeping my promise to Mother!

Back in the waiting chamber, there was not much joy. In fact, there was a bristling sweeping across the room. She looked at Kairn, but the sorceress only gave her a glance then turned away. Maisha understood, without having to ask, so she decided to turn her attention elsewhere.

“Well done,” Kalisha was the first to greet her. Maisha smiled back. “You’ll give my brother a run for his money, merging like that.”

At the mention of Kariath, Maisha involuntarily glanced back over her shoulder to see if he was out on the battlefield yet, but it was not his turn.

“Oh, he’s not on till later,” Kalisha said with a smile. “But if you want to keep staring, you’ll find him outside the waiting chamber.”

Oh no, can she tell? Now she was sure her face was flushing.

Thankfully, Kalisha too had turned her focus toward the next battle, which had already begun. Kairn was there, facing a poison sorcerer.

For once, the woman was having difficulty with this battle. She dodged or deflected two spells that would well have killed her if they had landed true, but in the end, she triumphed over her opponent in points.

Finally, it was Kariath’s battle. Maisha’s eyes were instantly glued to the battlefield, and she wondered at how poised he looked with his curved sword at the ready on the parched battlefield.

Don’t think of him like that, Maisha told herself.

The battle had started. Kariath was so swift that Maisha’s eyes could hardly follow him. One moment, he was in one corner, and the next, he had reached attack range, too fast for his foe to even ready a spell. Maisha watched as the sand in his opponent’s hourglass descended.

Then with one thrust of her hands, the sorceress sent out a blast of metal shards that flung Kariath back. Maisha flinched away as blood began to flow in rivulets from his skin. But still he pressed on, trailing blood on the grass.

The final moment was sudden. Kariath shot forth with his sword drawn, and with a single swing, he knocked the staff out of his opponent’s hand before her next spell was complete. Then he thrust his glowing blade into her heart, and she slid off the end, tumbling lifeless to the ground.

The audience went crazy. Maisha cried out his name. “What did I tell you?” Kalisha said with a grin. “He would be fine.” The lady turned to her. “I think he has a good chance of winning this whole thing. Even with me in the fight.”

When Kariath returned through the door, he came to meet the two girls, wearing a satisfied grin. “So, we’re all through,” he said.

As he glanced up at the scoreboard, Maisha stole a glance at him. Then their eyes met, and she found herself locked into place by his eyes.

“Well, tomorrow’s the ceremony for the final eight,” Kalisha said. “Remember to come, Maisha!” Then the two siblings wished her goodbye and turned to leave, though Maisha kept watching until they had vanished from sight.

 

Near Kairn’s rented house, Maisha suddenly felt anxious. What would she do when she went in? Was it even safe to stay here anymore? Kairn seemed to be caring less and less about her—or was it her imagination?

Swallowing, Maisha knocked hard on the door. A minute later, Kairn appeared, allowing her inside. Somehow, her face seemed harder and less friendly now.

“Your dinner’s there,” she said, eyes cast down as she motioned at the table. Maisha whispered a thank-you before seating herself at the table to start eating. This was strangely early for dinner, but since Kairn had already made it, she began to eat anyway.

After dinner, Maisha left the house again. She wound her way through the streets, past the marketplaces, towards the temple. On her way past the many shops of the marketplace, she was met with many words of congratulation and exclamations of praise. Now I’ve become really famous, she realised with a sigh, trying to walk past the strangers as fast as possible. Since young, she had always been a nobody. People who went through the park knew her face, but no one ever actually took notice of her or asked her name. Now, with so many people recognising her face, she felt afraid.

Just then, she heard a familiar voice call out. “Maisha!” It was a voice she had not heard for a while, but she knew she had heard it before.

A man had appeared from behind her, holding the hand of a young girl who looked to be around seven. It was the man she had seen in the elimination round that day, whom she had spared when he had found a gem.

“It’s you!” she replied.

The man grinned proudly. “I’m Orekhan,” he explained. “And this is my daughter.” Maisha looked from his face to the face of the girl whose hand he held. She smiled back, though her eyes did not meet Maisha’s.

“Father? Is that a new friend?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied with a smile. “It’s Maisha, from the Tournament.” He looked up at her. “This is Xarra, my daughter. Maisha is the one who helped me!”

Maisha couldn’t help smiling back. “Are you headed somewhere?”

“Just for dinner,” Orekhan replied with a bob of his head.

“Ah! Have a good meal, then,” she replied. “I have to go to the temple now.” She turned to Xarra and smiled. “And it was wonderful to meet you, Xarra.”

The pair bade her goodbye as she departed. Maisha was soon nearing the temple, and as its tall walls rose into her vision, she sped up to a run.

Inside the temple, she walked across the shiny floor, up to the sword in the centre. Kneeling before it, she closed her eyes, feeling the cold floor under her knees.

“Maisha. My great warrior.” She looked up in surprise. It was the Spirit of Niethe again. “Maisha, you did well today.” Suddenly, everything was awash with light again, and she found herself before the white-hooded figure.

The person threw off his hood. He had the face of a young man, features sharp, white hair waving behind him.

“Are you…Niethe?” Maisha breathed. The man nodded, smiling for the first time.

“I saved you and your friend,” he said. “Today.”

“You…that was you? Why?”

“I have the authority to intervene whenever I wish in this competition. After all, it is a tournament for the right to receive my reward, and I have my preferences. But it hurts me terribly to leave this sword…so I seldom do it.” He closed his eyes. “You should be on your guard tonight. I foresee danger for you.”

Maisha couldn’t help feeling puzzled. “Why me?” she asked. “Why not anyone else?”

The spirit drew back. “Because you are exactly the sort of person I want to see receive my boon,” he replied. Then the light slowly began to fade away. “But I think…I don’t want to come out of my sword again for a while. It’s tiring.”

Maisha opened her eyes again, and she found herself staring at the bright light of the Sword of Niethe. “Grant me your luck,” she whispered. “I think I will need it.”

When Maisha came out of the temple, the sky was completely dark. She hurried back to Kairn’s rented house. The sorceress wordlessly let her in, and though slightly unnerved by her coldness, Maisha greeted her, before climbing the stairs to her room.

I’ve got to be there at dawn, she reminded herself, lying on her bed and turning off her bedside lamp.

She remembered Niethe’s warning, and her heart began thudding with fear. But sleep was too heavy on her eyelids, and she sank away into a restless slumber.

 

Chapter 17

Maisha was woken by the creak of the door. Glancing about from her bed, she noticed almost at once that her door was ajar. And hanging over her bed was a shadow.

She screamed and leapt from the bed, heart racing. She snatched the fan from the dresser and pointed it at Kairn, who had sprung back, trying too late to conceal a blade in her hand. “How could you? How could you do this?” Maisha cried, tears springing to her eyes.

“I—” Kairn clenched her jaw. “It’s your fault for refusing to leave the tournament!”

Maisha backed away. “You can’t do this. You can’t.”

Kairn wrestled with herself, her hands shaking for several seconds. Then her shoulders slackened and she stepped away. “No. I can’t. But we’ll see tomorrow,” she hissed. “You’ll wish you had died tonight.”

As Kairn vanished through the door, Maisha straightened in her mattress, spirits shattered. She was going to kill me. She would have done it if I hadn’t woken. Oh—this is what she did to Rhyne…

For years, she had believed Kairn to be a person of great honour, someone who had been instrumental in her homeland’s victory. But tonight, it had become clear that there was nothing to admire about her.

Maisha locked her door before she went back to sleep, though she knew that Kairn could unlock her door if she so pleased. At least she had spared Maisha—that had to count for something.

Somehow, she managed a few more hours of sleep, and when dawn came, she quickly slung her bag onto her shoulder, stuffing the fan in her belt. She did not want to stay in this house any longer.

Running through the dawn, Maisha hoped that she was not late to the ceremony. There was hardly anyone on the roads, she noticed as she headed on.

Finally, she arrived at the entrance of the temple, the very one which she had visited the previous day. At the entrance stood the remaining seven in the tournament, together with the Tournament Master. Her eyes searched the group, and she was relieved to see that both Kalisha and Kariath were still there. But so was Kairn.

And the other four were her friends.

The Tournament Master’s eyes left the sky. “We are all present, excellent,” he said. He led them into the temple, gliding effortlessly over the glass floor. Everyone followed after, Maisha trailing close behind the siblings. As she studied the back of Kariath’s head, his long hair swishing in a braid, she began to entertain thoughts of inching up to him.

The door swung shut behind them, and they all gazed upon that shining sword in the centre of the room.

“Now, I will lower the glass barrier that separates the sword from the world,” said the Master.

Before them, the glass wall vanished, and they all entered its sanctuary. Maisha shuddered. Kairn was here, too, gazing upon the treasure. Everyone stared upon the bright, floating blade, its light illuminating all nine faces.

Then, one of the sorcerers turned to the Tournament Master and shoved him to the ground. Everything began to unfold in a flash. Even while the Master shouted, Kairn and her four friends leapt forth and reached to touch the sword in the same instant.

Then, Maisha saw that on all ten hands was a dark brand—the same one that was on Kairn’s: a triangle of snakes. It was the symbol of the demons.

“How dare you!” the Master bellowed as he crawled to his knees.

“Don’t you see?” Serish sneered.  “We’ve waited for centuries! And now you have given us the means to see your mission through!”

Slowly, Maisha was beginning to understand. Kairn had seven friends. There were eight of them. They were the eight Demon Masters all along. 

Then Serith’s eyes flashed as he turned to the trio still behind. “We had it planned to perfection. But the three of you came along and wormed your way into this room. We cannot let you stay!”

Suddenly, three of the Demon Masters were upon them. Their robes tore off, faces morphing as huge wings sprouted from their backs and claws pierced from their fingers.

Kariath drew his sword, and hearing his voice, Maisha, too, snatched up her fan, though her heart was hammering in her ears.

Claws flashed towards her and tore into her shoulder. Arm throbbing with pain and blood spilling out, Maisha ducked to avoid Serith’s gnashing teeth. But he simply turned around and flung black lightning at her. The pain was like the tearing of a thousand arrows into her flesh, and she screamed out.

Bolt after bolt struck her, and she screamed again, voice growing hoarse. Despair was setting in. How, how were they to defeat the Demon Masters, the most potent of their kind?

Then, she heard a shriek from ahead of her, and she watched as one demon pounced upon another, tearing away at their abdomen.

Kairn.

“Help me!” she cried out. Moved, Maisha stood up, new energy coursing through her veins. With a shout, she slashed with her fan over and over, scythes of fire tearing through the air and exploding against the Demon Master’s body. Then with one final swipe from Kairn, the demon collapsed lifeless to the ground.

“Kairn,” she wheezed, clutching at her wound. “Why are you helping me now?”

“You’re my friend, Maisha,” Kairn replied. “They ordered you dead. But I couldn’t do it.”

Then, in the midst of it all, there was a sound like an explosion. And in the ground, a black hole appeared.

And then a torrent of demons was flying out in their thousands, spilling into the world. Their black wings flashed, wings flapping through the temple.

Maisha collapsed onto the ground, beyond hope, everything lost.

“They’re—” Kalisha choked with terror. “They’re entering.”

Kariath bowed his head, lip bleeding, clawmarks scored into the side of his neck.

Above them, there was laughter as the demons continued to pour out.

“We have won!” “We have won!” screeched the demons. “Let’s kill these puny humans before we go rule our new kingdom!”

Then she felt a hand grip her wrist—Kariath. He leaned in and said, “I don’t know if you have heard the same story as I have. But I’ve heard that killing all the Demon Masters will destroy the demons, too.”

With a roar, the remaining three demons descended upon Kairn, tearing her apart before their eyes. Maisha felt her eyes stinging as she turned away. But there was no time to lament. The three whirled to face them next, soaring towards them with a shriek.

Blood exploded before Maisha’s eyes as they fired black lightning. She fell to the ground, the world spinning and flashing as she vomited blood. Near her, she was aware of Kariath and Kalisha charging forth, weapons flashing. 

I must help…somehow…

“Maisha…” It was Niethe’s voice. She glanced up to see Kariath and Kalisha fighting for all they were worth, sword and ribbon flashing and shining.

“Yes, Niethe…” she whispered.

“Use my blade,” he answered.

“How?” she replied, feeling the world spin again. “I have never used a sword.”

“Then have your friend do it,” Niethe answered.

Nodding weakly, Maisha turned again. Kariath and Kalisha were still fighting, flashing through the room, merged with their weapons but flagging. So she pulled the Sword of Niethe from where it hung over the ground, and supporting its weight, she looked up until Kariath met her eye.

“Take it,” she whispered, holding up the blade, hilt-first.

As he next flew past, Kariath sheathed his sword and snatched the Sword of Niethe in both hands.

The three Demon Masters were soaring towards Maisha and Kariath, claws out. Raising the sword, Kariath pointed it at them as it began to glow brilliant white.

Then, a huge wave of light poured from it, halting the three Demon Masters in their tracks, who all shielded their eyes.

“Yes! It’s working!” Maisha shouted.

Then, she saw that the three creatures were still pushing through the light towards them, laughing. “Is that it?” one jeered, pointing a clawed hand at Kalisha. With one blast of black lightning, it struck her down with a scream. Maisha cried out her name.

Kariath clenched his teeth, his grip on the sword tightening. He was pouring all of his strength into the blade, perhaps trying to merge with it, but the sword demanded more, and ever more, shining brighter than the sun.

Maisha could use transfer magic. She hadn’t used it at all since she had arrived in Ilere, but if ever there was a time to use it, it had to be now.

She lunged to wrap both arms around Kariath’s waist and began to pour all of her strength from her soul into his. The energy flowed, burning, through her fingers. She felt as if her entire body were in flames.

Through her teary vision, she saw Kariath thrust the sword into the air with a burst of light and power. A beam burst out of the tip of the sword, so large that it swallowed the entire ceiling, tearing banners off the walls. With both hands, he pointed it at the charging Demon Masters, and they screamed and roared, subliming in the light.

The horrible sound echoed through the hall, together with the crackles of the sword. Spots were blooming in her vision from all the strength she was expending.

Then, it all ended. Maisha could no longer hold out. Everything went black, her body going numb as her arms loosened from Kariath and she fell.

 

Chapter 18

“Uh…” Maisha blinked. She was in a bright, windy room, the walls and floor made of polished, light wood, a balcony open to the sky. Slowly, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Where am I?

She began to recall the events that had led up to this moment in time. She had been transferring energy to Kariath as he had been attacking the Demon Masters with the sword.

So where am I? What am I doing here?

Haisha tried to stand, but the energy transfer had taken its toll, and she swayed. Looking around the room, she saw a bed in the corner, and a small sling bag like her own on the blankets.

A bedroom?

A few minutes later, the door clicked open. Maisha turned to see that it was Kariath. She stared on as he walked inside, smiling to see that she was awake. “Oh, Maisha, thank goodness,” he said, coming to kneel at the bedside. She felt the nerves return as he reached out to grasp her forearm. “You gave me so much of your energy. I thought for a moment that you’d transferred your entire soul to me!”

When their eyes met again, she found herself staring deep, deep into his. He smiled, and that smile made her stomach flip. “It was no problem,” she replied. “I’ll recover.”

She pulled her legs from under the covers and planted them on the ground, then attempted to stand again—but she stumbled, and he leapt to catch her by the arm, laughing. “Are you completely sure?” he asked, and his eyes twinkled. “I’ll walk you back to your lodgings, if you like.”

“Oh…I don’t know if I can go back there…Kairn was paying for it. One of the Demon Masters.”

“She left her belongings at the temple,” he replied. “But if that doesn’t work out…you could share my bedroom, if you liked.”

Her entire head went hot. “This…this is your bedroom?” she stammered.

Again Kariath laughed. He hadn’t let go of her hand yet. “I don’t let just any girl inside,” he replied, voice lilting in jest, but all these words managed to do was make Maisha’s face go aflame.

“I—um—I’ll go back to the temple.”

“I’ll show you the way out, then,” he replied, nodding at the door. Then he extended a hand, which she took, somewhat surprised at her own boldness.

Holding his hand tightly, they walked out of the room, step by step, and he glanced over her every now and then, as if to make sure she was still there. The living space outside was lavish, a holiday house of some kind, which overlooked the coast and a few seaside shacks. She gasped at the view.

“So, we have those battles soon,” he murmured. “You, me, and my sister. If I recall correctly…my sister and I were on the same side of the board, and you were on the other. So, now with the other five gone,  that means you are going directly to the finals. And Kalisha and I will have to battle for the honour of facing you.”

“Then Kalisha—she—survived,” Maisha breathed, and her entire body grew slack with relief.

As if hearing her name, Kalisha stepped through the main door right then and halted at the sight of the two. “So? Have you two kissed yet?” she asked, sounding almost bored at the notion.

“Wh—what?” Maisha sputtered.

“Please! I was just showing Maisha out the door.” 

“If you say so,” Kalisha replied, then opened one of the room doors and slipped inside.

Kariath turned to Maisha as he pushed the front door open and led her through. As she passed, he caught her by the wrist. “Well…may I?” he asked. “Kiss you, I mean.”

She froze. Her head spun as she turned to look at him. “Did you just…” she whispered. But there was nothing else he could have said, was there?

Mutely she nodded. With a smile, he reached under her chin to tip her face upward and brought his lips to hers. Then they were kissing. It was too vivid to be her imagination.

She stepped backward, swaying on her feet. “You’re…you’re very good at that,” she stammered.

Kariath smiled back, catching her by the forearm before she could swoon. “Thank you for indulging me,” he replied. “Need help getting home?”

“I…I’ll…manage, thank you,” she replied, her head too hot to think. With another smile, he let go and stepped backward through the door. Once the door was shut, she stumbled and shouted, then laughed, her body awash with warmth as she replayed the past minute again.

 

Hours later, Maisha was finally strong enough to leave the house, which she did with the key that had been left of her dresser. Walking along the street, she took in deep breaths of the air of the clear afternoon.

The Demon Masters were gone, and she no longer had to fear dying in the competition. All their curses must have been broken by now.

As Maisha passed through the marketplace, she saw that many of the stands had collapsed, perhaps during the opening of the gate. The shopkeepers were now rebuilding their stalls. “What happened here?” she asked one shopkeeper, a blonde woman.

“Thousands of demons,” she replied. “They looked like demons, at least—but I don’t think those are real. But now they’re gone, as if we all dreamt them up together.”

Maisha smiled and nodded. “I hope the repairs go swiftly,” she replied, and she went off on her way.

Finally, she arrived at her first destination: the temple where everything had happened. Entering, she saw that the whole place was lit brightly from a ball of light in the domed roof. The floor had been cleaned, the banners hung back on the walls.

Amazed, she walked up to the Sword of Niethe in the middle. It floated over the marble ground as always, but now, the glass case was gone.

“You battled well,” said a small, hoarse voice from her right. Maisha turned and saw the bearded Tournament Master, who smiled. 

“No, I didn’t fight,” she replied. “I only transferred my energy to Kariath.”

“That was a very clever tactic,” the Master answered with a smile. He looked up at the temple roof. “Ah, after so many decades under the Demon Master’s curse, light can shine again.”

From the middle of the room, the sword called to her. She walked carefully towards it, entering the sanctuary of its glow. The whiteness expanded around her, and before long, Niethe appeared before her, unhooded.

Slowly, Maisha began to make out her changed surroundings: a white glass floor and great arches around a circular room.

“I do get bored here, sometimes,” he said, smiling at her. “Well done, Maisha. Your battle was well-fought.”

She glanced about at the space around her. “I didn’t fight much,” she replied.

“You lost a friend,” he said. “It was hard, wasn’t it? Your spirit is much stronger than you realise.” Maisha couldn’t help but to feel self-conscious that a deity was complimenting her. “Tomorrow, the last two battles await. Fight well.”

Maisha thanked him, remembering the battles once again. Mother… she thought, recalling how ill the woman had looked the last time she had seen her. It’s only a few days more. Just hang on…

With that, her real eyes opened, and she saw only the bright sword and the glaring reflections on the glass floor. Glancing about, she saw a few bags lying on the ground, immediately recognising one as Kairn’s.

Racing over, she slung it over her shoulder, remembering how Kairn had carried it that exact way when they had met. She was starting to understand that Kairn had been forced to choose between her allies and her friend, and that could not have been easy for her.

Maisha arrived at the front door of what used to be Kairn’s rented house in the late afternoon. Digging in Kairn’s surprisingly empty bag, she found a small velvet pouch. Curious, she opened it and reached inside.

Shock overcame her when she pulled out a huge metal circle with a convex surface from the tiny pouch. In the middle of the shiny silver as the symbol of Niethe, and behind that was a handle.

A shield— Maisha gasped. Could it be…the Shield of Niethe? The silver metal glinted with a touch of magic, and when Maisha ran her hand over the curved surface, she shivered, feeling its power. It has to be.

Checking the bag again, she found the key and unlocked the door.

The house looked as if no one had ever lived there. Kairn had not left any of her belongings behind, she realised with a twinge of sorrow. I guess it’s my responsibility now. Holding the shield with both hands, she went up the stairs, entering her room and lying on her bed.

Tomorrow was the last day. Two battles, one after another.

But slowly, she fell asleep on the bed, calm in a way she hadn’t been since she had arrived in Ilere.

 

Maisha returned once again to the beach in the evening. Her first destination was the lighthouse. Going in, she found the door still unlocked and climbed the stairs quickly. She reached the top room, where the hole for the Shield remained. She climbed onto Rhyne’s old wooden stool and only just managed to reach the hole.

With a soft push, the Shield slotted perfectly into the hole. A shimmer ran down the chains, and the gem suddenly burst into full brightness. Maisha quickly turned from the light, pleased all the same. With her job done, she ran back down the stairs onto the beach.

Then Maisha returned to the road. She should have been practising for the semifinals, but today, she only wanted to take a long rest, so she did.

 

Chapter 19

The next day came fast. After a small breakfast, Maisha sprinted to the arena, unable to wait for the tournament to start, and looking forward to meeting Karyath again.

“Here begins the final day of the Tournament of the Founders—yes, a day early,” the Master announced amidst the spectators’ wild cheers. “The rules state that if any contenders are killed outside of battle, their would-be opponents immediately move on to the next battle. Due to unforeseen circumstances, five competitors were killed yesterday. And so, only two battles remain!” The crowds let out a huge cheer. “Kariath of Rheisana has made it straight to the final battle. So now, we shall witness the battle between Kalisha of Rheisana and Maisha of Loane to see who will face him!”

Wild excitement filled Maisha’s heart as she heard the rising cheers of the spectators. Blood roared in her ears, and her heartbeat accelerated.

Just then, she felt someone squeeze her hand—Kariath. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Do your best—I believe in you.”

Kalisha laughed. “Well-wishes for your sweetheart but not me,” she said, but only grinned as they gathered at the door. Together, they walked out onto the arena to stand before the Tournament Master. The battlefield today was a sheet of ice with moving ice platforms suspended over the surface.

The Sword of Niethe stood sheathed in stone before the Tournament Master, up on his granite pillar. That’s the thing that will save my mother.

Light flashed before her eyes. Before she knew it, she was standing on an ice platform, slowly drifting leftward. Opposite, Kalisha smiled at her.

“Begin!”

At that moment, all the hourglasses turned, and the sands began to flow.

Kalisha instantly began her invisibility dance. Acting as quickly as her wits allowed, Maisha sent a sheet of flame at her before she vanished. The fire caught her mid-dance, stopping her, but going out as it hit the ribbon.

Instantly, Kalisha spun once around and flicked the ribbon. A bright beam of energy rushed out, and Maisha only just managed to counter with a wave of energy.

The beam suddenly swelled, overcoming Maisha’s attack and knocking her back, her face stinging as if burnt.

Maisha leapt over to another platform, dodging Kalisha’s next attack. The platform was floating closer and closer to Kalisha, and a direct attack would be possible soon.

But it wasn’t easy getting close. Kalisha was swift, sending a rain of attacks, one after another, at her, before leaping further away. Maisha was not ready whenever Kalisha attacked, and she only just managed to dodge every time, and never had a chance to retaliate.

Just stay still, will you? She thought, gritting her teeth as she aimed a heavy gust at Kalisha. This one hit on target and knocked Kalisha to her feet. Maisha quickly took the chance to leap onto an even closer platform.

But Kalisha eluded the trap again. Leaping to her feet, she flew across a gap to the next platform, avoiding a slash with her energy-empowered fan. Glancing up, Maisha saw the hourglasses and saw that she was losing.

There must be a way to stop her from slipping away! She thought, flustered, tired from the endless chase. Another blast of burning heat struck her in the face, and she staggered back, momentarily in pain. Come on, Mother is depending on me for this! I’m not just going to let the chance slip by like that! Thinking of her mother suddenly reminded her of her home, and of the central park. Instantly, an idea appeared in her mind.

Can vines grow in ice? She had to try. Looking ahead of her, she saw Kalisha reciting a spell. Closing her eyes, she focused, imagining the vines of the trellises in the Central Park, and how they wound themselves so tightly around the wood.

Eyes flying open, she swept her fan out before her, and the vines began to sprout from the ice, entangling Kalisha’s feet. 

The lady stopped mid-spell, and with great grace and strength, she jumped away, tearing the vines. Resolve hardening, Maisha gave another wave of her fan. THe vines shot over the water in Kalisha’s direction and twined quickly and tightly around her torso.

Yes! WIth no time to celebrate her triumph, Maisha jumped over the water, feeling the wind below her feet.

At last, she was close enough! Gathering energy in her fan, she turned, using the now sharpened edge to slash hard at Kalisha’s face. She screamed, still unable to move, and when Maisha stopped hitting her, she was shocked by the amount of blood flowing down her face. The audience gave a cheer.

Kalisha continued to struggle at her bindings, as the last of the sand ran out of her hourglass. Then, Maisha lowered her fan, shaking. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Kalisha smiled through the blood. “At least I don’t have to battle my brother,” she replied. “Good luck. Show him no mercy. Just so it doesn’t get to his head.”

Before Maisha found the words to reply with, the Tournament Master called for the battle’s end.

“Maisha of Loane moves on to the finals!” was his shout. Maisha leapt in joy and was transferred back to the ground at once. Beside her, Kalisha’s cheeks and forehead bled heavily. She walked with Maisha back to the waiting room where Kariath was watching, taking her to the healer’s room.

Then, realising that she was in the finals, Maisha stopped walking and looked up at the sky, nerves and anxiety surging through her like never before. This is the last big step I have to take, before I can get the prize.

Looking forward again, Maisha saw Kariath smiling at her. “No matter how this turns out,” he said, “it won’t change anything between us, alright?”

“You do your best, too,” Maisha replied, and they nodded to each other, beginning on their way to the Tournament Master’s pillar.

It’s time. Maisha’s heart pounded. Time to give everything I have!

The Tournament Master looked down at the two from the pillar, the Sword of Niethe in his hand. “Now, the final battle between Kariath of Rheisana and Maisha of Loane is to begin.” He waved his hand, and at once, the battlefield changed. In one flash, the floating ice vanished, and only two still ice platforms remained at the two ends of the pool of water. Then, Maisha found the glow surrounding her again, and then, she was on one ice platform, opposite Kariath.

“Begin!” came the Master’s shout.

Kariath immediately raised his curved sword and a flash of blue lit it up when it had taken him half a minute before. Maisha flicked open her fan and gathered the power of a gust in it.

Waving it, the wind washed out over the water at Kariath. But then he leapt off the island, and his feet skimmed the surface as he shot forth to aim a slash at her. Maisha swerved to a side as he sailed past. Then she sent a slash of her own at him, her fan bright with hot white energy.

Kariath ducked, and the blast flew over his head. He leapt with a thrust and impaled her right shoulder. As he pulled the sword back, she gasped, shoulder stinging like it was on fire, her entire fan arm aching.

Pushing through the pain, Maisha began to spin, making a wind shield. Then she concentrated and sent a rush of energy at Kariath, who was back on his own island. He leapt away, racing across the water again in a blur, before leaping at her. 

The shield worked again. He was thrown back, all the way back to his own island, skipping once on the water first. 

Fiery pain ignited in her shoulder again. Holding her wound, she drew a restrained breath. I can’t let this keep me from the prize, she thought. Waving her fan again, she sang the wave song-spell. But moments before she let the wave loose, the wound gave a sharp jab, and she cried out. Her wave was feeble, barely washing up on Kariath’s island where the swordsman was resting momentarily.

Looking at the hourglasses, she saw that her sand was more than half spent, while his was still almost full. Ignoring her pain, Maisha gathered a wave in her fan again.

WIth a burst of strength, she let the wave roar forth. It rippled across the lake and collided straight into Kariath, knocking him into the water. He swam and kicked and lunged out onto the ice, but by then, Maisha had readied a followup, letting a shower of ice fly. They tore gashes across Kariath’s face and limbs, throwing him back before he could lift his sword to shield himself. The ice rang on his glowing sword, shattering on contact.

Maisha quickly glanced at the scores. Now, his points had also dwindled to less than half, but she was still losing.

Kariath was fast to retaliate. Racing over the water faster than Maisha could see, he leapt in the last moment, up and above, and entered her wind shield.

“You fight well,” he said, blood pouring into his eyes. She dodged his next slash, the sword flying past an inch from her arm. She raised her fan again and merged with it, but he swerved back and landed a solid hit in her arm in the process. She winced and held off Kariath’s next slash, returning with another of her own. So now, it came down to this: a hand-to-hand fight. In this, it was easy to see Kariath had the upper hand. But there would be no chance to turn and flee.

With one slash, Maisha tore a huge gash in the side of Kariath’s neck, and crimson flowed out. Ignoring it, Kariath swung once more, weakening.

His blade connected with the fan in her hand, and she felt it fly out of her hand and clatter onto the ice, spread out like a silk wing. Maisha’s wind shield vanished, and she found herself alone, defenceless.

Kariath did not move. Neither did Maisha. His eyes were wide. Then, the Tournament Master called, “Time’s up!” 

Terrified, Maisha glanced at the hourglasses. There was still a sliver of sand in Kariath’s, but hers was completely spent. She had lost..

Suddenly, Maisha had been transported back off the battlefield, amid the audience’s cheers and whistles.

Maisha could feel all her wounds aching. But she did not care about the pain. She had failed her mother, and in doing that, had robbed her of the only chance to return to a normal life.

The crowds didn’t care that she had lost. They continued to cheer as the Tournament Master called Kariath to stand before him and handed the Sword of Niethe over. She had to force a smile when the Master complimented her on the battle, but she could not keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.

It’s all my fault she’s going to die.

Holding on barely to her tears, she watched as Kariath held the Sword up and thought upon it.

Then he turned to Maisha, great care filling his eyes.

“Go on,” she replied, wiping her tears away quickly. “You won it, fair and square.”

Then Kariath stepped towards her and pressed the Sword into Maisha’s hands, to be answered by an audible gasp from the audience. It was so sudden that she nearly dropped it, but her grip tightened. Could it be?

“This is my choice,” Kariath said, lifting his head to declare the words. “This is my wish. I wish to give the prize to Maisha!” The cheers rose.

Maisha stared at him, starting to smile. The Tournament Master looked on with a kindly nod, and she thought she heard the cheers grow louder. “Let your spirit enter the Sword of Niethe,” he said. “And tell him your wish.”

Maisha nodded, eyes welling up again. She closed her eyes, grip tightening on the hilt, and almost instantly, she was engulfed by light.

“Maisha,” Niethe called out, walking towards her out of the light. “You didn’t win, but I do think you deserve the prize. What is your wish?”

“Can you heal my mother?” she asked. “She has been sick for a long time, and I think she is going to die soon.”

Still smiling, he nodded, and sighed. “You have such a kind heart,” he said. “I could sense your suffering, but now I know it for a fact.” Then he closed his eyes, and a white wave of light washed over her, before it all subsided. “It is done.”

“Is she—”

Niethe smiled and nodded. “Be at peace now. You have fought long and hard for this prize…”

“Thank you!” she shouted, laughing. She felt all the darkness in her life clear up. Finally, her mother could live the life she had once had…

Then, Niethe’s imaginary world began to fade away, and she found Kariath and the Tournament Master watching her.

“Did you meet him?” asked Kariath.

She nodded. “He granted my wish,” she replied, voice shaking. “My mother…she’s healed.”

“And so, the Tournament of the Founders has ended!” the Tournament Master announced. “It shall probably be the last I host. Till the next tournament, train hard, and you may stand a chance of winning!”

“Come on,” Kariath called with a bright smile. Maisha nodded, following after him.

“Why’d you do that?” Maisha asked in the waiting chamber. “Didn’t you want the prize for yourself? It’s what you’ve been fighting for!”

He continued to smile as he turned to her. “I didn’t want it for any noble purpose…yours was far more important than mine. When I held the sword, Niethe saw through me, and said I could give the wish to someone else if I pleased.”

Maisha looked down at the ground, tears of gratitude filling her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “Don’t you find it strange, how you were the one who gave me the gem that let me into the Tournament in the first place? I never really did it by myself. It was thanks to you.”

“Before the Tournament, you always did everything by yourself, didn’t you?” he replied. “It was about time you weren’t left to fend for yourself. I saw fate guiding you by the hand, and I simply felt it was the right thing to do. I’m glad I did it. And besides…” He winked. “I couldn’t bear to make a pretty girl cry.”

“Ah,” she said, blushing dumbfoundedly. He really was fond of her, wasn’t he?

“What a stunt, Kariath,” Kalisha cut in from behind them. “Now that the Tournament is over, let us return to Rheis together?”

“Oh, including me?” Maisha asked haltingly.

“Of course that includes you,” Kalisha laughed. “Unless you already had a ride.”

“N-no,” she murmured, remembering how she had stowed away to get here. “When do I meet you?”

Kariath laid an arm across her shoulders. “In the harbour tomorrow, at sunset.”

Maisha smiled. “I’ll see you there! Thank you!” Then he grinned and kissed her cheek, and she leaned into his embrace while his sister sighed and shook her head.

 

Chapter 20

The next morning, Maisha packed all her belongings into her small cloth bag and gave the place a good cleaning before she left. She had two bags with her now—Kairn’s and her own.

This is my last day here in Ilere, Maisha realised all of a sudden. After this, I’ll never see it again. 

On her way to the market to buy one more dinner before leaving, she briefly wondered what Kariath had wanted the prize for. Had she deprived him of something he longed for?

She ate as she walked to the harbour, where many people were lining up to return home from the Tournament.

“Maisha!” she heard Kalisha call out. “Here!” She turned and smiled when she saw the lady waving at her from a ticket stand. Not wasting any time, she ran over, pushing past many people. Kariath appeared beside her from around the corner, and she couldn’t help a smile as their eyes met.

“Glad you made it,” Kariath said. “Would you like us to—”

“That’s her!” A furious shout stopped them short. “The stowaway!”

No, thought Maisha, heart racing. Before she could think, she had been surrounded by guards.

“Maisha!” gasped Kariath. “What are they doing?”

She stared as the guards parted. They all turned their heads, and from amid them strode Hareth.

As soon as his eyes met hers, he frowned. “This seems overblown,” he said, folding his arms. “Can’t you see this is one of the two tournament finalists? She’s one of the ones who saved us from the demon scourge!”

The guards looked at each other, bewildered. Meanwhile, lifted his head to announce, “We are the ones who owe her! Release her at once.”

The guards complainingly pulled apart. Hareth winked once at Maisha. “Thank you, thank you,” she gasped, retreating.

“Take care of yourself,” he replied with a sad smile. “And safe travels back to Loane. Until we meet again, if we are lucky enough to.”

She smiled, but the sadness of leaving behind the friends she had made panged her. She waved and joined Kariath and Kalisha once more, and the lady pushed a ticket into her hand.

“You’re too kind, both of you,” she murmured. “How could I ever repay you?”

Kalisha laughed. “Just don’t get arrested,” she said. “You’re a nice person. And we have so much more than you do. It’s only right to help.”

“All aboard!” the man at the gangplank called as the trio presented their passes to him. As she boarded, the deck rose and fell below her feet, making her feel dizzy. This was only her second time taking a ship, she realised.

They  made their ways down to the three-person cabin marked on their tickets. Inside, there were three beds nailed to the walls, a small wardrobe, and an armchair by a small coffee table. The walls were wooden all round, and there was a carpet spread over the floor.

Almost as soon as Maisha lay down, she fell into a deep sleep.

 

When Maisha finally awoke, the ship was on the sea. Sitting up in her bed, she began to check inside Kairn’s bag, digging around till she found a bag of money and the empty velvet bag that had originally held the Shield. Well, better not to let them go to waste. Still feeling slightly guilty for taking a dead woman’s possessions, she emptied the money bag into her own and rolled up all the emptied bags and stuffed them inside her own.

Leaning back, she began to think. I started this journey thinking that it would be hard, and that I would have to face it all on my own. I was so wrong. I was never alone through any of it. With a smile, she began to recall all the events that had passed in the last three weeks. It had started as a journey to save her mother, but in the end, besides that, it had been a journey of discovery and adventure, and they had saved the world.

It felt wonderful for everything to finally be over. It was a wonderful journey, she thought. Scary but exhilarating.

 

Hours passed. Sometimes, ship staff would enter, asking to check their passes. The trio talked throughout the day, hardly leaving the room. Then at long last, the ship began to slow, meaning that the trip was coming to an end. Suddenly, excitement coursed through her blood. Mother! I’m home!

“Come on, Maisha,” Kalisha called out, and they began to gather their belongings to leave. They filed out of the passages and down the gangplank, back onto the soil of Loane.

When they were back under the shelter of the ticketing booth, the siblings turned to Maisha as Kariath said, “We have a ride to call.”

“Goodbye, both of you,” she replied.

Kalisha patted her on the back as she passed. Kariath laid a hand on her shoulder, and before long, they were in an embrace. “I hope that we can see each other again very soon,” he said. “You are only an hour’s ride away, after all!”

Then, wishing them goodbye again, Maisha turned and ran as fast as she could towards Myerne’s home.

“Myerne? Myerne!” she shouted, knocking on the door. There were hurried footsteps from inside, and moments later, the door swung open. Myerne stood there, and when she saw Maisha, she grinned.

“You won, didn’t you?” she asked.

Maisha shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, I didn’t,” she replied. “I lost at the finals, but the champion—our Lord Kariath—gave me the prize.”

“Gave you—” she gasped, halting. “You were a finalist!” She came forward and gave her a hug. “I had no idea you were such a fighter!”

Then, Maisha heard more footsteps, and they both turned. And right behind Myerne, smiling, stood—

“Mother!” Maisha half screamed, letting go of Myerne. 

“You…you won,” she said.

“I was second, actually,” Maisha quickly said. “But Lord Kariath gave me the prize!”

Maisha’s mother blinked and smiled. “That’s a huge sacrifice to make,” she finally said. “Very kind of him.”

Maisha nodded. I don’t know if my mother needs to know how close we became…

“I’m very proud of you for making it so far,” her mother added then.

While the sun set, the two walked side-by-side once more, mother and daughter, like they had eight years ago.

“Mother,” Maisha said, after a warm dinner cooked by her mother. She lay down on the couch while her mother sat at her feet. “Could you tell me one of your stories? Remember, you used to tell me about things like the Demon Masters, and all the legends?”

Her mother laughed. “Are you too old for bedtime stories?” she replied, affectionately. “Well…alright.” Then she started telling a story, and Maisha felt as if she had been transported back into a time in her distant memory.

 

Epilogue

A month passed. Maisha still did her daily jobs at the Central Park, still earning the same amount. Her mother, though, had found herself a new job as a cook in a tavern, and they were getting on much better than before.

There was a knock on the door that morning. Maisha’s mother ran there immediately and opened the door.

“Oh—I—” she gasped, bowing deeply. Maisha looked up and saw that their visitor was a servant of the Marquess, in a tall golden hat. “Greetings! How may we help you?” She glanced back at Maisha as she appeared, carrying a pot of onions.

“Good morning, madam,” he replied. “Are you Maisha’s mother?”

She nodded. Maisha glanced up questioningly at him.

“I have come on behalf of the Marquess of Eastern Rheis to inform you that my lord, Kariath, wishes to see your daughter, and perhaps, if you are agreeable, court her.”

Maisha’s mother jumped in shock. “Is that…so?” she managed to reply, voice shaking. She turned to Maisha, who was trying not to look flustered, instead staring at the pot of half-peeled onions in her hands.

“Maisha,” she gasped, “do I say yes or no?”

“Um…if you really want to leave that choice up to me…” Maisha stammered. “Yes?”

“T-tell him that I agree,” her mother managed to reply at last.

“Many thanks.” The messenger bowed and left with a click of his heels and a salute.

Maisha’s mother turned around, eyes wide. “What was that about?” she asked, stepping towards her daughter.

“I—I—” she replied, backing away, face flushing. “Well, you know how he gave me the Tournament prize…”

“What did happen while you were at Ilere?” her mother asked, stare turning into a smile. “I simply cannot believe this! Lord Kariath has taken an interest in you?”

Soon, the full story was out. Maisha had no idea as to how she had survived through telling it all.

 

A year of heart-pounding courtship later, the two of them got married. Almost the whole city was there to watch, and Maisha felt just a little embarrassed to be in front of them all.

Kariath turned to smile at her, and she returned it, feeling all the brightness of the world fill her heart. She was fully aware that this meant she would be the next marchioness of Eastern Rheis, but she knew that Kariath would be with her all the way, and that thought gave her strength.

Thanks to their wedding, Maisha’s mother had received so much gold that she could have bought two houses with it, but she had only bought one. Maisha now saw her standing at the front of the audience, her eyes sparkling as if there were tears in them. Maisha smiled. There you go, Mother! You’ll never have to live in that squalid place again.

After the wedding, there was a huge banquet. People now addressed her as “Lady Maisha”, and Maisha felt unfit for that title whenever someone called her that.

Looking up, Maisha saw Kariath’s parents, seated second in line at the table head, talking to each other as if they were friends who had been parted for a long time.

She turned to Kariath. “I have been wondering since that day,” she said. “Why did you want to win the Tournament?”

Kariath smiled warmly. “Oh, that,” he said. “My parents weren’t on very good terms before the Tournament. In fact, there came this argument as to whether to get rid of some of our servants. Mother was so incensed that she left the manor, and didn’t come back for a long time. I was…affected by it, and so the two of us, Kalisha and I, decided to try and gain the prize to bring them back together.”

“Then why did you give it up to me?”

He frowned. “I realised that whatever pain I felt, yours would be ten times deeper if your mother died.” Then he tilted his head, turning to look at his parents. “But look at them now. My wish was granted in the end anyway. You brought them together—they were both very happy that I was finally getting married…”

Maisha looked up again and saw their bright smiles and heard their friendly talking. In the end, she realised, both their wishes had come true. And at last, as she had wished for so long, she had a family again.