Chapter 3
Sign
~Dragon Dancer~
I woke up exactly four hours after the interesting events of last night in a room that, might I add, could hardly be called a living space. I was still wearing the same clothes from the day before, partially because I didn’t want anyone to find out what I looked like and partially because I’d have to get used to wearing the same clothes over a long period of time.
Thinking back to the night before I laughed out loud, Dark, who was sleeping hidden behind my neck, stirred. How ironic, the person they were searching for was right in front of them. This was going to be fun. I was liking this whole useless weakling disguise. That meant that they would expect little out of me and add to the surprise when they figured out what I was capable of, if that was possible.
There was only one thing I regretted, Gray. Was I a masochist? Now I’d have to listen to it said over and over and the worst of it was that I’d have to respond to it. Gray…I didn’t think I’d ever get used to that.
Thinking back to the discussion last night I didn’t remember giving out wishes, though I did recall leaving a mask in a certain village. Now the Cloud Isle business was partially correct, I did live there for a time but that was decades ago.
Dark walked out of his hiding place and onto the pillow, yawning. “You nearly messed everything up,” I said to him. When Brand called me a “shrimp” Dark nearly exploded, the others lack of courtesy didn’t help. The group didn’t seem too bad, Aaron, Rook, Gret, and Brand. They all had potential; Rook even cast a truth spell on me (too bad I had the habit of talking in half-truths).
“Maybe they aren’t so incompetent,” I said, more to myself than Dark.
About thirty minutes later I was waiting in the not-as-loud-as-yesterday bar; the commotion died down with the morning exhaustion and was filled with waking up and hung over men. Thirty minutes after that Aaron walked into the bar followed by the rest of the group. Aaron stood facing the entrance, looked around for a second, spotted me, then called, “Gray!” I was lounging on the chair with my feet resting on the table facing him; I guess he couldn’t tell that I was looking right at him. I got up and with my hands in the pockets of my jacket I walked over to him. Without saying a word the five of us walked out of the building. They were all so quiet, and from the looks on their faces I could tell they hardly or didn’t get any sleep at all.
For thirty minutes we walked through the packed streets of the city to reach the north side of the stadium. In order to imagine this stadium think of the Coliseum except almost twice its size, in perfect condition, in use, and you can get a pretty good picture of Archangel, Angelmark’s arena. It was monumental, even though I had just came from the beginning of Earth’s 21st century I was impressed with the humans here that didn’t even have electricity. The structure showed this world’s reverence for combat and fighting skill and it did a pretty good job of it, even the most scholarly couldn’t help being awestruck.
I had been to and participated in the tournament a few times so I knew how the building worked. Around the outside of the pitch was a giant ring, separated into two parts. The outside part of the ring was a thin ring that contained markets and small shops. It also consisted of the ticket stand entrances (to the south) and in one place where you could sign in to take part in the activities, where we were going. The inner ring consisted of the seats where the audience sat and under chairs was a place where officials and participants stayed overnight if needed. Then of course in the middle of the building was the arena itself and like the Coliseum had a story underground for the fighters and/or monsters to get ready for the events.
At the north side of the stadium groups of smelly, dirty, and generally mean looking guys crowded around the place to sign in. I was starting to doubt if we would get in, only one hundred and fifty groups were allowed to join. I could tell the others felt the same way from Brands cussing and Aaron and Rook sighing in unison.
“Looks like that’s the end of the line,” Gret pointed to the end of a very long blob that seemed to stretch around the whole stadium. “What’d you think Aaron? I estimate that by the time we reach the end of that five years will have passed and we’ll be first in line.” Gret laughed at his joke and slapped Aaron in the back, then walked over to the line. The rest followed, none laughing, the other three were in no mood for humor and I wasn’t the laughing type.
As we stood in line I observed my group. Brand was clenching his muscles and unclenching them. Like many in the line he was burly, one might have thought he was on steroids but since steroids didn’t exist in Gea I highly doubted that. His hair was cut short with only traces of blond hair, something that was uncommon in this place where long hair was in fashion.
Rook just stood there with a mordant look on his face. It was easy to tell he was the wet blanket of the group. From his slightly stronger than usual magical aura I guessed he was also the magic user of the group. His tall, skinny stature was amusing, if he just put on a long crooked hat he’d look like a wizard (there is no such thing as “wizards” in Gea or in any other place of that matter). Unable to fight off that image I had a hard time trying to suppress the urge to call him Merlin.
Meanwhile, Gret went around to Aaron, Rook, and Brand, saying a private joke to each of them and earning punches. He did not come to me to chat, I wasn’t offended, I’d earn their trust soon enough. His light brown eyes laughed with him, matching his chocolate brown skin. Racism wasn’t really a problem here but even so there wasn’t really a mix of races in this region, the most common was white. Gret or his parents must have come from the western regions of Gea, around Amadon.
Aaron gripped and re-gripped the brown leather hilt of his sword. The brown was a lighter shade where he held it, from being worn down from years where his hand went to the same exact place. I felt magical energy from the blade so it was probably a MAO. Sword types were rare so he must had been an accomplished fighter; he might have even been a part of the king’s guard. He sure wasn’t new to fighting, a long scar over his left temple told me.
Two hours had passed and we weren’t even half way through. It was a clear sky and the sun beat down on us mercilessly. I was fine but the rest of the group was noticeably getting more aggravated.
“Hey!” a voice shouted over the noisy crowd. We all turned to look at the group in front of us. There was a young man standing there with a good-natured smile on his face. “This line’s never going to end isn’t it?” he said, “Need a drink?” He held out a water jug toward us, “it’s not poisoned,” to prove his point he raised it to his lips and took a swift swig. Poisonings were frequent in Gea, so the man’s actions were not unusual.
Aaron took the drink offered, drank a little, and then passed it to the rest of the group who did the same, “Thanks…?”
“Ethan,” said the young man. Ethan gave off a good guy aura, like Aaron in a way. “And this is Drake,” a blond haired man nodded his head, “Banson,” another nod, “Oreman,” a rather broad shouldered man raised his hand in recognition, “and Walker,” a red headed teenager smiled and nodded.
Aaron smiled back, “Aaron,” he said and in turn went around the group doing the same, “Gret, Rook, Brand, and,” he hesitated for a moment, “Gray.” I nodded and gave a small smile at my fake name.
“So what brings you here to the death matches?” asked Ethan.
“The money,” said Rook curtly.
“You?” asked Aaron.
“The money,” answered the ginger haired Walker.
“Well I guess 50,000 trans is a good reason,” I said. Trans was the currency of this region, I estimated that 1 trans was worth around 5 US dollars.
“I guess so,” said Ethan.
The rest of the conversation was bland; naturally I didn’t really interfere in it. Though technically both groups were in the contest to get the money they both ended up explaining the reason for the money. Ethan explained that he and his group were headed over the Rocky Sea to see if they could find a medicine to cure their cities ailment. Evidentially they heard there was something in a city called Monte that would help but without much information about it they had to check it out themselves. Aaron explained our much more adventurous quest.
“Cloud Isle and the Dragon Dancer? Now that’s something.” Ethan said surprised, “You guys are really daring but,” he looked over to me, “Do you think it’s such a good idea? No offence but you are a bit young to go there.” I heard what he was saying and I was sure the rest of the group could hear it too- was it smart to bring the kid?
“We’re all prepared to go and we know that this trip isn’t some fun ride,” Aaron said, not looking at me, I could just hear a hint of uncertainty in his voice and for a second I pitied his ignorance.
“It’s none of my business anyway,” said Ethan apologetically, “I’d say we’ve got as much of a dream as you.”
Hours passed with the groups conversing with each other and with the company the sun didn’t seem so bad and the time not as long and soon enough Ethan’s group was next in line. Ten minutes later they were finished and started toward the door leading inside. “See you later,” said Ethan, “Try not to get killed in the first round.”
“You too,” said Aaron, “Good luck.”
With a wave they all walked out of sight. We stepped up to the registration desk that extended from the wall but as soon as Aaron walked up to the desk the registrar turned the simple OPEN sign to CLOSED.
“Hey!” said Aaron, “We haven’t even signed in yet!”
The man in the red shirt of the tournament officials looked at us irritated. It had been a long day for him, I could practically see the gray hairs growing on his thinning head. “Read the sign,” he said as he pointed to it, “We are closed. Only a hundred and fifty groups are allowed to enter and that last group was number 150.”
“What?! We didn’t wait here half a day just to be told we can’t enter!” said Gret.
“You haven’t been here all week dealing with hundreds of obnoxious morons.”
Reluctantly the four of them, excluding me, turned away, knowing that it was no use. Brand let out a string of colorful language.
“What do we do now?” I heard Gret say, Aaron just sunk to the ground, not caring about the dirt or anything in particular. I stepped up to the desk; it was up to me now.
“Why are you here? I’ve already told you there are no spots left,” said the man at the desk.
I ignored his question, “Okay, here’s the thing. You’re having a bad day, we’re having a bad day, let’s make this work out better for the both of us,” I looked up. “What’s the entry price? Fifty? Seventy five trans?”
“100 trans. But that still won’t get you in.”
“Hmmm. Well, how about I pay you that and a gift for you of about…I don’t know, one thousand trans?” I said casually, looking back down at him.
The man’s eyes grew to an incredible size. “I think,” he tried to compose himself; he looked like he was going start hyperventilating, “I think we can arrange something.”
“Thank you Mr.-”
“Please call me Halbert.”
“Well Halbert I have just one more request. Can we keep this between the two of us? Some people really shouldn’t hear about this.” I motioned toward my group.
He nodded vigorously, “Of course, of course.”
“Now could you please sign us in?” I asked.
He nodded again, “You four over there!” he called out to Aaron and the others, “Your friend here has found a place for you, come here!”
Furtively I took out the money in one of my pockets, a great deal more than one thousand trans and handed it to Halbert. “Keep the change,” I whispered. The man nearly had a heart attack.
Aaron, Brand, Gret, and Rook walked over puzzled and not really wanting the possibility that their hope might be crushed again. Halbert took out five sheets of paper and turned to Aaron. “Name?”
“Aaron Savon.”
“Age?”
“26.”
“Magic user?”
“No.” This surprised me, I thought I felt something, it must have been the sword.
Halbert went to each of us- Brand Jakeson, 25, no. Gret Damon, 20, yes, Rooklen Ere, 28, yes, then finally me.
“And what’s this fine gentleman’s name?” he asked smiling. I think I made his whole year.
“Gray.”
“Last name?”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“Age?”
“Make up one.”
“Magic user?”
Why not make this a little more fun? “I guess not.”
“Okay..Now what is your group’s name?”
“Group name?” Aaron, Brand, Rook, and Gret asked simultaneously.
“You know, your group title, the name that will be called if you make it through the first round. Haven’t you thought of one?”
The four of them looked at each other, waiting for the other to come up with one.
“Skull crushers?” asked Brand, the rest of us quickly objected.
“The Five?” Aaron suggested, another no.
“The Dragon Dancer’s Mask Finders?” said Gret.
“How about the People Who Can’t Think Up a Name?” said Rook sarcastically but since he didn’t add a more helpful name Rook was practically in that group.
Overall the group had zero creativity, “Do you have any suggestions?” Halbert asked me.
I thought for a moment, “How about…the Dragon Seekers?” After a few seconds Aaron and the rest nodded.
“Sounds decent,” said Brand.
Halbert jotted down the name and handed Aaron a piece of paper, “The entrance is that way,” said Halbert indicating the door to his right. “Good luck Mr. Gray” he said to me smiling.
So that was how the title the Dragon Seekers was conceived and later, made known to all of Gea. Infamy, however, was not what we had in mind when we stepped through that door.
