The Imperial Arena didn't know it was witnessing the beginning of something.
Morning sunlight crossed the grandstands and found thousands of faces already turned toward the battlefield, already animated with the particular energy of people who had spent the night in anticipation and arrived early enough to feel entitled to what was coming. Vendors moved through the rows. Arguments about outcomes circulated with the comfortable confidence of people who believed the future was a matter of opinion. The repaired arena floor caught the light on fresh stone, and nobody thought about why it needed repairing, and the celebration of not-knowing was complete and total and about to become irrelevant.
The gates opened.
Aether walked out first.
