Chapter 10:

Belhaven

Project Aion vol. 1


The city of Belhaven made Loffenten seem like a quaint little village. Its towering outside walls shielded the city from all angles. All that could be seen from the carriage was the blue palace peaking over the soaring grey walls. The main roads were broad enough for at least five carts to fit next to each other. Yet with these wide roads, it was still packed to the brim. In fact, as they came into the city on the carriage with the two heroes that summoned them, Barkas and Beatrice. It was hard for the horses to do more than trotting. But they did not complain since they could watch the vibrant and ever-busy city roll past them. People from all walks of life and unique shops were in constant view from their carriage. As they went deeper into the city, the road became less populated. The shops became less frequent as they were replaced by tall buildings, with wooden staircases running all around. As they passed the second wall it felt as if they entered another world. Broad flat houses with beautiful gardens were all around. Massive squares and intricate architecture. Churches, museums, a university, and many specialised craftsmen. Eranor, however, realised that there were also many small barracks-like buildings scattered in between with two flags draped next to the entrances. Then they passed through the final wall and it was a sight to behold. Wide-open botanical gardens as far as the eye could see. Expertly decorated pathways all leading to beautiful villas. The areas around these villas were teeming with life. From horses to far more dangerous and exotic animals roamed around them, as if it were their own lands. In the gardens, there was also a constant guard presence as they patrolled along the pathways.

It was the pure shock of the sights that distracted the trio from realising they were approaching a monolithic structure. An enormous stadium with an equally massive compound next to it. The cart rolled up to the compound and stopped before the thick stone doors.

“What is this place?” asked Eranor as he leaned out of the window to stare in awe.

“This will be the accommodations we promised you. What you see before you dear Eranor, is the fortress known as Champion’s Cradle. Here is where all the contestants for all our tournaments gather and live together,” said tiny Beatrice with her petite voice.

“You mean the place is filled with our competition?” enquired Raione as she frowned and tilted her head up to see if any guards peered down from above. The walls easily stood twelve men tall.

“Yes, under the decree of the royal court from a bygone age. All competitors must live together and share a home. It’s meant to garner respect between everyone competing,” she explained. Before her final breath was even out the stone doors cracked open and began to pull back.

“Because it’s only the one tournament being held, it is rather vacant,” added Barkas with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“You mean the other twenty-nine younglings. Interesting to see how empty such a facility will be with only thirty-two people walking the halls,” Kaltmund wondered.

“Garner respect, please,” scoffed Raione as she got back into the carriage. “This is nothing more than a ploy to get everyone to study each other. Making the fights more interesting,” she complained.

“Is that a problem for you Rai?” asked Eranor with a cheeky smile as he returned to his seat as well.

“They can study me all they want. We’ve trained so hard in the two weeks we’ve received our invitations. I doubt any of these slackers will be able to even make us break a sweat,” she boasted. The massive stone doors came to a stop and the carriage started to roll forwards.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you. Some of these contestants are far stronger than what you give them credit for. Five of them are most likely stronger than you three,” said Beatrice nonchalantly as she kicked her short legs back and forth on her seat.

“Names, I want their names,” growled Raione.

“Staktos from the western island, Seika from the eastern empire, Daunar of the north, Takun the wanderer and the most likely to win this competition. Dagor the unyielding” answered Barkas with his burly voice.

“What makes you so certain that this Dagor is going to win?” she asked as the carriage made its way up the gravel path. The large ferns slowly rolling by in the background.

“He was one of the three underaged younglings allowed into the ranking tournament. His next bout would have been Borjan but forfeited out of respect for his power. A lot of people, myself included. Think he could have beaten him, easily,” he replied. With those words, the other two turned their heads from the windows to Barkas. Missing the fountain in the central courtyard.

“What do you mean easily?” asked Eranor in earnest.

“Borjan got into the competition on the recommendation of the church, due to his unnatural skill level. The other one was because of his father but Dagor was different. He got in by reputation, his region’s people demanded it,” explained Beatrice.

“What do you mean demanded, how famous was he?” asked Eranor, the carriage coming to a stop in front of the stairs.

“He was renowned in his local area for being the sole protector, he alone would handle their worries. Not the guild nor the Orders. The people there have only recently begun taking in heroes again since he left after last year’s tournament. He claimed he needed to become stronger. So, if I were you. I wouldn’t aim to win this thing because that would be impossible,” warned Barkas and opened the door. “We’ve arrived and it seems there is a small welcome party awaiting you,” he said and pointed up the stairs to the small group loitering about. Then Eranor saw someone. In the middle of them stood a pale youngling with jet black hair. As they stepped forth and the rest of the competitors came down to greet them. He turned around and left the group.

“Must be one of the five,” whispered Eranor to himself.

The greeting was a pleasant surprise but informative as well. The trio was quick to realise that none of the five was present. Furthermore, apparently, half the group are invited, and the other half are local younglings from the streets of Belhaven. While Eranor and Kaltmund joked about and tried to learn more about how the competition worked. Raione decided that the crowd was not worth her effort. She quickly assessed that almost all of those greeting them were weaker than them. As she slid away from the group and made her way to the front door, she heard her master’s words.

“Interact with the strong and you become strong. Interact with the weak and you stagnate,” she thought to herself. The mantra she grew up with. The mantra that guided her decisions when it comes to other people.

“Hey, don’t you find it a bit rude to be slipping away from your own welcoming party,” said a man a few paces behind her. Raione did not stop or even slow down.

“I don’t remember asking you to follow me,” she warned and decided to flair her aura a bit.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend. I was only wondering why you were leaving. No need to flair, I could tell when you three got out that you were strong,” he explained and closed the gap between them. “I’m Roland by the way. Strongest Belhaven youngling at the tournament,” he greeted and stuck out a hand.

“Roland,” she repeated his name and gave him a blank stare. “If we meet in the competition, I’ll show you the gap between our levels. Now stay out of my way,” she said and walked past his hand. Leaving the young man dumbfounded outside.

Later that day Eranor and Kaltmund finally made it to their respective rooms. The three of them had the luck of being placed right next to each other.

“Strange that Rai left immediately. Didn’t even take the opportunity to boast about her superior skills,” Eranor said as the two of them stopped in front of their doors.

“Yeah, but you know how she is when she already sized up her opponents. When she realised that none of the five was there, she must have decided that the rest weren’t worth her time,” Kaltmund said and opened his door. “Maybe we should check in on her?” he suggested and gave a peek at her door.

“Perhaps we should,” Eranor agreed and tossed his backpack into his room. Letting it fall wherever it may.

“Reckless slob,” groaned Kaltmund as he went inside his room to place down his backpack. As he quickly scanned the room, he realised it was nothing but the essentials. A mattress in the right corner and a dresser to the left. A second door leading to a bathroom. Nothing else. “A minimalist approach I guess,” he mumbled to himself as he carefully put down his backpack on his mattress.

“Come on Kal, what’s taking you so long,” cried Eranor from the hallway.

“Coming,” he replied and made his way back out to the hallway.

“Great, no let’s hope she isn’t in too much of a foul mood,” he stated and entered her room abruptly.

“Eranor, knock first,” he complained as he dashed in after him.

Kaltmund’s heavy steps came to a halt. The two of them stood frozen, her room was empty. Only her backpack laid on her mattress, its content spilt out over the bed.

“She’s not here?” Kaltmund exclaimed and spun around once, scanning the room.

“She definitely was here. Her backpack is on the bed. Maybe she left to do something, she’ll be back before we know it,” Eranor deduced from the room.

“Yeah, you’re right. But where could she go? I mean we just got here, and I have no idea about the layout of this place really,” he pondered.

“Maybe that’s what she did. Went out to explore and learn the lay of the land. She probably had time to kill and was bored so she did what she would do back home. Patrol and observe,” he answered scratching the side of his face.

“That would have been a good idea but then I would have run into more of these weaklings,” Raione said from the bathroom. “Next time check all the rooms before assuming someone’s not here,” she said as she exited the bathroom.

“Rai,” cried Kaltmund in shock as he averted his eyes.

“Kal calm down, she’s wearing a towel,” he said.

“Yes Kal, I wouldn’t be walking around naked with you two in here. Anyways, how was the little greeting party,” she asked and made her way to the lone window.

“Not too bad, there were some between them that was rather strong. But nothing that we couldn’t take,” answered Eranor and settled himself on her mattress, while she chose to sit on the window ledge.

“As I thought. Did any of the so-called Five show their faces or are they hiding in their rooms?” she continued her questioning.

“No, but from what I could find out. They’re the real deal. Apparently, everyone is terrified they’ll be drawn against them in the prelims,” he explained.

“Prelims?” she asked.

“Oh yes, apparently this competition was always only sixteen invitational contestants. But the King decided another sixteen local younglings needed to be added to promote the city. So tomorrow we all have a prelim match to decide whom the sixteen will be that competes in the competition,” he explained in his usual academic fashion.

“What you’re telling me the king felt shame that none of his local younglings ever compete in these tournaments. So, he decided he needed to force a bunch of these pathetic wretches in to give them a chance,” she rationalised the thought for herself. “It doesn’t matter, we’re much stronger than we were when we set off on this journey. That means no matter who stands in our way. We’ll crush them,” she declared as her wolfish grin returned.

“I have to agree, those at the welcoming party were nothing special. Well except this Roland character. He had some hidden power in him,” Eranor said. Raione shot him a menacing glare.

“What was that?” she growled.

“This guy Roland is stronger than he seems. My perception skill is high enough to see that he was suppressing his power,” he answered. But before he could continue, he was cut off by Raione.

“Well then, if that’s the case I hope I draw him in the prelims so that he can at least hide his shame from the rest of the city,” she said but seemed to address herself. Kaltmund gave a worrying look to Eranor.

“Hey Rai, do you know this Roland or something?” asked Kaltmund.

“Not really, but it was the entire attitude that upsets me. I could see through his little façade and he knew it. Yet he didn’t drop the act,” she said lost in thought, staring at the floor. “I think it’s best that we get an early night,” she suggested.

“I agree, we need to be fresh considering we’ll be fighting tomorrow,” added Kaltmund.

“Very well then,” groaned Eranor as he got to his feet. “I guess the prelims await us and then the tournament. It’s going to be rather fun,” he stated and made his way to the door.

“Eranor, Kaltmund,” said Raione right before the two of them left.

“Yeah?” he asked and looked over his shoulder.

“I’m looking forward to fighting you two in the actual tournament,” she said with the grin returning.

“That’s if you can make it that far Rai,” he jested and made his way out of the room. He knew what she meant by it. The three of them are friends but once the competition starts. She’ll put all that behind her and fight to win.

“Always been competitive,” said Kaltmund as he stopped before his room door.

“Always will be competitive,” he added, “Good luck tomorrow and see you in the tournament.”