The Tournament [A Non-Traditional Fantasy]

The Game led them deeper into the winding corridors of the Arena of Dionysus, his long stride unbothered by the teenagers struggling to keep pace. Picayune eventually broke the silence. "Why are you even helping me? I mean—I'm grateful, but aren't we competitors?"

The Game laughed. "Your fight means more than just a simple Tournament. You are humanity's premier chance to finally wipe that villainous mokoi off the map." Picayune hummed in acceptance at that answer even if he didn't like how it reminded him of exactly what he was up against. The Game added, muttering under his breath, "Also, I've got way too much money riding on you to let you lose."

The trio finally stopped in front of a small pair of wooden doors and before either of the teenagers could comment on the unbeknownst gambling over their lives, the Game spoke up. "We're here."

Through the thin panels, they could already hear Liederkranz's booming voice. "-and then when you suddenly teleported, I had to hold back so much to not clap in giddy excitement right then! That was so awesome!"

Poetaster's voice soon followed, just as animated. "No way, you were so much cooler with all those magic arms! I still don't know how you did that."

The Game pushed the doors open. Liederkranz's laughter spilled into the hall. "I'll tell you how if you tell me how you pulled off teleportation."

Poetester laughed in return "Not a chance. But what was up with your obsession with that baton? I mean you can explode magic fists, what's even the point?"

Before Liederkranz could reply, both of them noticed the odd trio approaching. Her smile faded into wary concern. She had never liked the Game, there was something off about him, and she felt a motherly concern seeing the two teenagers at his side. "Hey Picayune, Belabor. Is everything okay?"

The Game only smirked at Liederkranz's blatant disregard for him. "I want you to train Picayune."

"What?" Liederkranz and Picayune blurted together.

The Game clarified. "It would seem that the Chauffer has chosen our 'Apprentice' here for his theoretical knowledge; however, if he wants any chance at actually defeating the Vampire, he will need help turning that theoretical knowledge into practical prowess. You were an actual soldier, weren't you? Ergo, you are the best option to help whip him into shape."

No one said anything, caught off guard by the sudden demand.

Liederkranz simply answered. "...Okay."

Picayune was caught off guard by her answer, not expecting the woman to so readily lend aid to a fellow competitor. "Really?"

"Sure." She responded with a shrug. "You are going against one of history's greatest evils. I should probably do my part for humanity and lend you a hand."

The Game's smile widened, already counting the profits in his head. "That's the spirit."

Picayune was overjoyed by the sudden turn of the day. "Thank you so much Ms. Liederkranz!"

Liederkranz chuckled warmly as Picayune reminded her of her students. "You only have three weeks until your fight, so I'm not sure how helpful I can be, but I'll do what I can."

The Game stepped forward to remind everyone of his involvement in this whole ordeal. "Don't worry about time constraints, I can take care of that."

Poetaster pouted, folding his arms. "Why don't I get asked to partake in an awesome training montage?"

The Game offered the famous stage actor a half-apologetic smile. "Um sorry Poetaster, but the kid needs more training in fighting and stress management. I don't think he needs any magic tutoring. Your help won't be required."

Poetaster smirked conspiratorially. "Don't be so sure about that." He turned directly to Picayune. "How's your light magic?"

Picayune blinked at the sudden question. "Uh… it's alright I guess. Why do you ask?"

"The Vampire is weak to light. I could teach you my prismatic bolt. It'd tear through that arrogant coot better than any normal arcane blast ever could."

The room went quiet. Everyone stared at Poetaster with wary concern.

"How do you know the Vampire is weak to light?" Liederkranz finally asked.

Poetaster shrugged, a little too casually. Liederkranz's trained eyes caught the avoidance. "We've crossed paths before."

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Suspicion prickled at her instincts, but she let it pass—for now. Her attention returned to her new apprentice. An ironic smile tugged at her lips; he was 'The Apprentice' after all.

Though Picayune was elated by this accepted proposal, Belabor was anything but. "We'll never get our date, will we?" she huffed, shaking her head.

Picayune rubbed her back apologetically "Sorry Bela, but you know that I have to do this."

"Fine." She crossed her arms, still grumbling, but under her personal dissatisfaction it was clear to tell she was happy to see Picayune receive so much help and support on his daunting task. "But if you're going to spend this much time prepping, you better win that match."

Picayune managed a wavering smile. "I will."

"Good." She returned the smile, firmer than his. Heading for the exit, she added, "I'll only get in the way of your work so I'm off." She opened the door to the hall and paused briefly, turning to face her boyfriend again. "And don't you think you've somehow wriggled out of our date! WE WILL have that date, even if it's the last thing you ever do!" Belabor then quickly left before Picayune could possibly retort about how ominously foreshadowing that statement felt.

The Tournament contestants all watched the empty doors idly slide closed once more until the clicking sound of the door shutting woke Liederkranz from her stupor. "Alright!" She shot up from the soft couch she was laying on and started making her way toward the exit. "No time to waste, I'll go ask Dionysus if we can borrow the arena and meet you there in a jiffy."

The three remaining contestants started heading out themselves until Picayune suddenly halted. "Oh, I should probably stop by my dorm to get some spell-clay to practice shaping the runework for the prismatic bolt."

Poetaster simply waved him off. "You won't need a rune for something like this. You can cast that spell straight from your root."

Picayune frowned unsurely. "Are you sure? That just sounds like it's asking for problems when I could just get some paper for assurance. My root might not have the same shapes as yours."

Poetaster only laughed, slinging an arm around Picayune's shoulders steering him toward the door. "The shape is simple. Anyone who knows what to draw could cast it. Quit worrying so much."

The three made it to the arena and practiced Poetaster's prismatic bolt while waiting for Liederkranz to meet them. Though Picayune wasn't given much time before she arrived, he was already making surprising progress on the spell.

"Dionysus gave us the go-ahead!" Liederkranz happily called as she jogged up to the three.

Picayune smiled happily. "Great! So, what's the plan? Are we going to start with some stretches or—" A flash of light blinded Picayune, followed by a crack of pain. His nose crumpled inward, and he hit the ground with a shout, blood trailing down to mark his fall.

Clutching his face, he shouted nasally, "What the heck was that!"

An evil smile curled across Liederkranz's smooth face. "So this must have been how captain Rem felt training us." Her attention then turned back to Picayune pathetically folded on the ground. "First thing first, you'll need to learn to predict the unseen movements of essence like its second nature."

"Is that what you did?!" Picayune questioned a little angrily. "You punched me with those magic fists of yours?"

Liederkranz channeled her inner captain Rem, remaining completely apathetic to Picayune's pain. "Fists you could have dodged if you felt for the sudden shift in essential pressure around you."

"Or I could have just seen it with a vision rune like I drew for your match with Poetaster and will obviously use again for my own match!"

Poetaster tried to stifle a laugh as Liederkranz blinked a few times, her stern façade wobbling. "Oh… I didn't think of that."

Picayune slowly dragged himself upright, pulling a small jar of ointment from his pocket. He smeared the lotion into a complex pattern around his eyes. The moment he pulsed essence through it, glowing ethereal arms flared into view around Liederkranz.

The Game stepped in between Liederkranz and Picayune before they could get too carried away. "Alright, I'm glad you're so eager to help… or maybe vent out some frustrations from your own training. But maybe let's dial things back a little bit."

Liederkranz chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, Rem would always start our training like that, and I just wanted to try it."

"Always?" Poetaster muttered, concerned.

Ignoring the question, Liederkranz faced the Game. "So, you said you had a solution to our time constraint problem?"

The Game grew a mischievous smile which worried Picayune greatly. "My power allows me to manipulate the laws of the universe however I like under certain stipulations."

Picayune blinked, dumbfounded. Liederkranz gave a low whistle. "Glad I didn't match up against you."

The Game continued. "I would like to propose a game to you two. I call it 'Cower for the Hour'. I will send you two to a micro-dimension stilted in time. For every hit Liederkranz successfully lands, ten minutes will pass in the real world. For every hour in the micro-dimension that passes, you will go back in time one hour in the real world, limited by the fact that you can't go further back than when the game started of course. And lastly for every hour in the micro-dimension that passes without Picayune receiving a hit, he will be given the option to leave the micro-dimension and end the game."

Everyone was gob smacked by the absolute authority of the Game's power. Liederkranz couldn't possibly fathom how he was still the underdog of his fight.

The Game ignored their stunned looks and continued. "One of the limitations of my power is that the rules of the game must be respected wholly and in spirit or else it falls apart; this means that Liederkranz, you must try your best to hit Picayune as many times as possible every hour or else the game will automatically end and eject you from the micro-dimension. I also need everyone involved to agree to the terms of the game."

Liederkranz's smile returned to her face. "So basically, I'm going to beat Picayune to a pulp, and he's going to try to not get hit?"

"Pretty much."

Picayune blinked a couple times trying to register Liederkranz's words. "Um, can I take back my training request?"

"No." Then she punched him in the face.