The dark of the night sky was beginning to turn to lighter shades now. The moon had descended further into the sky.
The sun would be rising soon.
"Boy," I said, reaching into his mind. "It's time."
He blinked awake and yawned.
"Now?"
"Yes. Let's get moving."
We made our way back through the city as Pralis woke in a frenzy. The quiet from the night before was gone, replaced by movement and noise and anticipation. Every street we passed funneled people in the same direction; toward the heart of the city, toward the arena Thorne had ordered prepared overnight.
Banners hung from nearly every structure now. Purple and gold. His colors. It was his city now.
It was almost as if he'd used his own attacks against Pralis to further boost his position as a ruler.
The closer we got, the thicker the crowd became.
Merchants shouted over one another, selling food, drink, and charms promising luck or strength. Children ran ahead of their parents, laughing, unaware of what kind of blood they'd soon be cheering for.
The colosseum stood at the very center of the city.
It was circular, massive, and old, far older than Thorne.
Stone upon stone stacked high, carved with faded reliefs of past champions and long-dead beasts. Wide stairways spiraled upward along its exterior, already packed with spectators. At its center was the arena itself, open to the sky.
I felt it before we ever stepped inside.
Residual Aether. Old violence. Thousands of past deaths soaked into the sand below. This place remembered
"This place is more of a museum than a battleground," the boy whispered to me. "It hasn't been used in hundreds of years. Thorne may be breaking laws by doing this."
"He knows no one will stop him," I said. "The laws bend to his will now."
Entrants were separated from the crowd through iron gates along the lower wall.
Guards checked names, waved contestants through, and stripped weapons from those who didn't meet the rules.
The boy kept his head down as he approached the guards.
"Name?" One of them asked.
The boy didn't hesitate, speaking again in his lowered voice he'd used before. "Wren Parlos."
"And that is your sword?" They asked, pointing down at me.
"Yes."
The guard waved him past and moved on to the other contestants behind us.
His disguise had held. The sheath hid me well enough, at least for now. To them, I probably looked like a shitty training sword. Not at all like the one they were looking for.
Inside, the waiting chamber was stone and shadow. Contestants lined the walls, some pacing, some silent, some grinning like this was all a game.
And every single one of them was larger than the boy. Even the women. Some even towered over him.
His size was both his greatest weakness and greatest strength.
Smaller meant a harder target to hit. But he also lacked the strength some of them had. Hopefully I would more than make up for that.
"From here on out," I whispered. "Don't talk to me. Thorne's men are everywhere. If they hear you talking out loud, they'll either think you're insane or understand that you are speaking to me. Got it?"
The boy didn't respond, instead weaving through the packed room. I assumed that meant he'd heard me.
Above us, the roar of the crowd swelled.
A horn sounded.
Then another.
The gates on the far side of the chamber groaned open, and sunlight poured in.
"The duels of Pralis," a voice thundered from above, "begin now."
The boy rolled his shoulders once and stepped forward.
We would be up sooner rather than later.
A voice from the back of the room grabbed everyone's attention. "Here is how this is going to work," an older man said. He had a long gray beard that was braided and swung every time he stepped. His face carried many scars, including a missing ear. He had definitely seen his fair share of battles before.
He carried a long sheet of paper, on which all of our names were written.
"I will call your names, two at a time. They will be selected at random. When you hear your name called, you'll run out front and put on a good show for the audience. Got it?"
Everyone nodded in silence.
"Alright," the man said, squinting as he looked down at the paper.
"First up, we have…Portis Teller vs. Aris Reaver."