Mike’s examination of his Stats page was ended as the platform they were on ground to a halt. The new floor of the city had a ceiling another two hundred feet above their head penetrated by The Lift. The dark stone above had lines of light embedded into it, stretching to the distant walls. This floor was narrower than below, fitting in higher up the volcano’s structure. Only one tier was above it, home to the most powerful families in the country.
According to Aaron, this level was the administrative center of the country. The space between The Lift’s platforms and the walls was filled with buildings, some as high as six stories tall. Fewer servants were present, with most of the crowd that Mike could see being made up of the black-robed wizards. Aaron had talked to Mike about what the insignia they wore represented, and he was surprised to find that, even through his distraction, some of the information had stuck.
Gold thread signified that a person was a member of a prime branch of a family, while silver and copper showed less power within the family. The top symbol indicated the family that they were part of, and Mike recalled that the Blurington’s had a sunburst picked out in purple. None of the badges he could see had one of those, but he kept an eye out for them.
The other symbols present meant things like membership with a guild, college, or special duties assigned by the council. Both Aric and Eric were members of a college that specialized in summoning magic, conjuring temporary tools and servants. The mass conjuration that brought Mike to this realm had been Eric’s masterpiece after many failed attempts at a larger conjuring.
With the center room packed full of the buildings and organizations that ran the country, the stone walls were hollowed out to create a variety of arenas. The largest of them was carved into the stone outside, with space for thousands of people to watch the battle. It was one of the lesser ones they were headed to this time, with space for just a few dozen in the audience.
“The arena isn’t far from here,” Haliard said as he stood. “Avoid notice and move quietly.”
Mike was sure that last part was for his benefit, as everyone else would know how to move in this society. He didn’t think avoiding notice would be possible with a massive floating crystal in their midst, but Mike determined he would do his best not to be the reason they stood out.
While they were moving, he kept his eyes out for others that didn’t look human. There was a servant who looked like Karl, with the flat expanse of a face with no eyes, but the people he saw all looked human. Mike figured that the Blurington specialization in conjuring meant they would have an unusual number of non-native servants.
While Mike was examining the crowd around him, he noticed commotion at a building along their path. Space had been cleared out front, and a crowd had gathered. In the center were two people in servant’s garb, fighting. These weren’t trained gladiators in white, but some other caste of servant Mike didn’t know in sea green linens.
The two men were exchanging blows, but their lack of training was telling. Both had split knuckles and cuts on their face, but the crowd of wizards surrounding the two just laughed and watched as one fell to the other’s blow. Money changed hands and the crowd started to disperse before the group passed them.
Julian caught Mike studying the wizards and leaned forward to whisper to him.
“Keep your eyes down. We don’t want to insult the great and the good.”
Mike nodded once and lowered his head.
“What were they fighting for?”
“Some slight. Some business deal. Nothing important, or they would use people like us. Throwing their body servants into a fight like that is wasteful, but they do it if the issue isn’t important.”
“They really just tell people to fight and they do?”
“It is part of being owned. You get used to it. We do what they say when they say it. Or else.”
Mike didn’t want to think about what that or else could be. His mind started turning over the things he had learned about his unique power and how he could use to protect himself. Letting the wizard family have that much control over him would see him broken and wounded.
The march through the city took them past other battles. According to Julian, small-scale ones like those were impromptu, unplanned struggles. The one they were heading toward was a grander scale, in one of the carved-out chambers in the stone around them. With an issue as large as ownership of the newly appeared building at stake, they needed more than cleared space and a small crowd.
With the Blurington family’s recent loss of power, they couldn’t attract the audience their gladiators had before the disastrous foray into the building that had suddenly appeared on their property. Most of the family wealth came from farms, but the gambling and ticket prices had been a nice subsidy to their income. Haliard said that he hoped that their new battles would attract attention enough to bring in a crowd.
After passing through the city in the mountain, they entered a long hallway. The light came from alcoves above them, with small lights set inside. There were large, steel-bound doors every thirty feet, all closed. It reminded Mike of the hallway he was forced down by the father and son Bluringtons when he was summoned, and he almost panicked for a moment as he realized that was just the day before.
The realization of how much had changed for Mike in such a short time shattered the illusion of normality he had built up. The dreams of growing his power and finding a way back home were driven away as the darkness of the hallway surrounded the men.
Taking a deep breath, Mike continued forward. His hands were shaking as he walked, but he didn’t let his nerves show. He thought the men around him were trustworthy enough, but they weren’t friends. Not yet.
Flicking through the windows his ability presented him helped Mike relax as they continued down the dark hallway. Each presented a new path to power, whether it was the Quests he had that reward him, or the incremental growth of Stats and Skills. Each of the grayed out, unlearned spells he had available was one that he could master. Even his summon Bandit could increase in level and ability.
Mike needed time. Time, training, and the ability to level up. It was defeating the zombies which gave him that first level. He suspected that was the source of the Free Points he could assign to his Stats. The training all day yesterday had provided incremental gains to his mana and stamina, and a level or two to his non-combat spells, but if he wanted real power, he would have to fight.
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That was something the Bluringtons could provide him with. He could hear the sounds of combat coming from the rooms they passed, even though the heavy doors. With Haliard and the other gladiators training him, he was sure there was a future for him, even if it wasn’t very long. Once he was ready, there must be a way for him to break out of the city and flee.
All it would take is power.
Mike realized he could improve something as they walked along. His Identify spell said it had a cool down, but he had been able to rapidly cast it in the past. The times he had experienced the headache when casting it were the only times that seemed to come into play. Mike had a theory that it was something to do with the amount of information his mind had to take in, but he couldn’t confirm it yet.
What Mike could do was pinch his shirt as he walked and cast Identify. There was no pain, and he was able to cast it again. He kept this up until his mana bar emptied again. The stretching feeling came over his mind, the bar grew momentarily before shrinking back, and he knew that his reserves of mana had increased.
White Linen Shirt
Signifies the wearer is a slave gladiator in the country of Chilt. Light and comfortable.
No important information presented itself in the windows that popped up as he cast the spell. The subjective nature of the shirt’s comfort being called out surprised him, but Mike did find it very comfortable. The air he expected to be chilled by the deep stone walls was kept at a warm temperature by the light enchantments scattered throughout the city.
Haliard stopped them before one of the doors and placed his hand flat on the steel plate that Mike had through was a lock. Now that he was closer, he saw that it was flat, with no hole for a key. With Haliard’s touch, the metal binding the door shifted in a way that made Mike think of The Lift. The twisting metal here wasn’t enough to hurt his head like the massive tower of metal, but it was similar.
Mike’s quick glance showed him a long room, with benches and hallows carved out of the stone off the walls. There were flowing toilets and showers like the barracks they had come from, causing Mike to assume it was a locker room for the arena. One with room for fifteen people, based on the number of alcoves Mike could see. The small selection of men would have plenty of room even in this smaller arena.
Sum was the first through the door. He had to dip slightly down until the bottom point of his body floated a bare inch above the floor, but he fit. The rest of the men entered one by one, but Mike was stopped when Haliard placed his hand on his shoulder. The others glanced back, but the man just waved them on. They all turned and headed deeper into the room on the other side.
“When we’re in there, we will be met by the Bluringtons. Both of them, and they will be interested in you.” He squeezed Mike’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. The man’s bushy gray eyebrows almost made Mike laugh, but the steel of the eyes beneath them drove home his seriousness.
“Do not mention the stuff you see. You are an amateur wizard they conjured, and I have been training you today. You have a natural gift for languages and picked up enough to get by.”
“Got it.” Mike knew Haliard was right. If this was so unique, it needed to be kept hidden. Especially from the wizards who ruled this kingdom. Mike needed to keep as much freedom and power as he could, until he broke free.
“Also, call them Master Eric or Master Aric and don’t look them in the eye.” A small smile quirked Haliard’s mouth as he dropped his hand. “Aaron covered that in his lesson, but I could tell you were distracted.”
“Thank you,” Mike said with a sheepish smile of his own. “I learned about…”
He trailed off, gesturing vaguely to try to indicate his power. Haliard nodded and stepped into the room.
“Tell me about it later.” He turned to the other men who were waiting for them. “Only Sum is up in this fight, so the rest of us move on. Sum, you know what to do.”
The sentient crystal didn’t move or speak, but Mike got the sense that he nodded. The psychic ability was a new experience that wasn’t as alarming as many others he had had, despite its unfamiliarity. He added working with Sum more on resisting psychic resistance to his plan.
Sum floated over towards a massive set of double doors that Mike hadn’t been able to see from the hallway. The rest of them headed down a short stairwell, a dozen steps up. There was a door on the left that opened into the arena. They filed out to the benches carved out of the stone. They were ten feet above the fighting area of the arena, a circle of sand twenty-five feet in diameter. Mike was able to see double doors matching the ones Sum was waiting by on the far side.
High above them was an orb of light, centered over the sand that filled the floor of the arena. It was bright, harsher than any of the other lights that had been in the volcano city. Shadows were deeper in the stands, but there were none across the sands.
They were the only ones there. The men all sat down on the hard stone benches, murmuring to each other.
“It’s six o’clock now,” Haliard said as he sat next to Mike. He gave the younger man a mock glare. “Hopefully we’re not thirty minutes early.”
“I learned a lot,” Mike said with a chuckle.
“Well, there is more to go. Sum is fighting another sentient, so this will be interesting.”
“He’s fighting a what?”
“Sentient,” Haliard described. He rose and called out “Aaron, did you describe the sentients and non-sentients?”
“I didn’t have time; we were talking about the political make-up—”
“All right all right, I can do it.” He sat again and twisted towards Mike. “Not like you were paying attention anyway.”
“I… learned a lot.” Mike couldn’t stifle a laugh as he repeated himself.
“Sure, you did. Some of the mage families here do not keep a ready crew of gladiators for their forces. Most don’t, in fact. The space for us is in demand, and you have to rise to a certain rank within the councils before you are allowed the space. Those families without the training and housing facility use either conjurations or constructs in their forces.”
“Those are non-sentient, where we are thinking, rational, learning beings.”
“Exactly. When those are in a fight, it is usually to the death. Or destruction, for constructs.”
“The zombies I fought, they were conjured for that fight?”
“That was Master Aric’s coming of age ceremony.” He paused here and rolled his eyes. “His fifth one, I believe. The zombies were conjured by the Leptings, a cadet family of the Bluringtons.”
“Trevor Lepting’” Bradiac interrupted. “The head of that family is married to the second cousin of Master Aric’s father. They are maneuvering for more power within the family and summoning something strong enough to defeat Master Eric’s summon would go far for that.”
“Good thing you were able to beat them down.” Haliard leaned in and mock whispered the next part. “Bradiac is a consummate gossip.”
“It’s a gift,” the other man replied, but fell silent as he looked past Haliard.
Mike turned to see wizards in black robes entering. The men and women were all accompanied by a servant in sea green. They followed a step back and kept their eyes to the ground, hands clasped in front of them. Two of them turned and came towards the gladiators. It took Mike a moment to recognize the father and son Bluringtons.
“Haliard, glad to see you gentlemen are early.” The other gladiators all rose and dropped their eyes to the floor at the older wizard’s words. Mike rose a beat behind, remembering that Aaron had filled him in on etiquette.
I hope I don’t come to regret digging through my Stats instead of listening, Mike thought to himself as he looked at the hem of Aric Blurington’s robe.
“Of course, Master, we always do our best.” There was a faint snicker from at least one of the men around Mike, but he couldn’t tell who it was.
“I wish to speak to you and our newest fighter. Join me and my son as the fight begins.” The older wizard headed up the stairs beside the benches, his son behind him, moving away from the gladiators. Haliard gestured and Mike moved with him behind them both as the rest of the gladiators sat again.
“Remember, staying quiet is staying safe. They will have a plan for you.”
Mike heard Haliard’s whisper and took it to heart. They thought they owned him, of course they would have a plan. Fight for them, expand their influence, and eventually die in their service.
Not at all a plan Mike was interested in.
