The Crown Tournmanet [Chapter 11]

Hey peeps!

More secret novel. o.o

Hopefully you all enjoy.

Shami

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“What’re we going to do, then?” I asked.

If we didn’t have a team, did that mean we couldn’t enter? Did Master Elias even know three other people? He seemed to be a hermit.

Elias rubbed his chin. Then he ran a hand up his face and through his hair. The pepper markings at his temples flared a bit, giving him a very flustered demeanor. Then he snapped his fingers. “It’s fine. It’s fine.” He snapped his fingers a second time. “We’ll just recruit some arcanists from the town.”

“There aren’t that many arcanists here,” I muttered.

I had been all over. While the town had an astounding five hundred people, they only had four arcanists, from what everyone had said. That wasn’t much. And would they even want to join a tournament? I doubted it.

“The prize for winning the tournament is—”

“The Crown of Ascension,” I interjected.

“—yes, that, but also one thousand star shards.” Master Elias waited for a moment, like he wanted a reaction from me, but I wasn’t sure how to react. Elias waved a hand around and frowned. “That’s more money than most people ever see, boy! That’s why most people enter the tournament. They don’t care about the crown. They don’t even know what the crown is or what it’s capable of.”

With a nod, I widened my eyes. “Okay. But I don’t understand. Do we need star shards?”

“No. We don’t need them. Other people do. We can recruit three other arcanists if—” Master Elias pulled me close and lowered his voice, “—we promise them the star shard prize.”

“And we keep the crown,” I muttered, piecing together his plan. “Do you think people will be interested enough to team up with us? And how will we know if they’re going?”

“It doesn’t matter if they’re good.” Elias pushed me away and huffed. “You and I are very capable arcanists. We can probably handle most of the tournament ourselves. The other three will just be names to fill the roster so we can participate.”

That all made sense to me, though I worried my master was being too arrogant. Surely there were other arcanists who were as strong as we were? We didn’t even have dragon eldrin.

“You really think we can win with just the two of us?” I asked.

Master Elias replied with a smirk. “You’re a kirin arcanist. Kirins empower their master’s other eldrin. You’re not just a syrocko drake arcanist—you’re going to be an unrivaled syrocko drake arcanist. And I’m already a master of my fighting arts.”

“What if we face five arcanists who are really talented?”

Elias waved my comment away. “Don’t worry. We need five on our team, but five never fight at the same time. At most, it’s three-versus-three. Most of the time it’ll be two-versus-two. Trust me when I say, we don’t need the other three. We’ll carry them to the finale.”

Now that Elias had explained it, excitement coursed through me once again. That sounded like a great plan. “Okay,” I said. “What should we do?”

He motioned to the door. “We’ll scour the town. Find some chumps who want money—lots of star shards to sell, basically—and then meet up at the registry.”

I nodded along with his words. “Excellent.”

***

I walked down the street with Wren riding on my shoulder. My drake eldrin was rather large, and he had to wrap his tail around my other arm in order to even hang on to me.

While awkward, I loved having him close. His scales on the back of my neck felt warm. It reminded me of the Sunset Desert—my home.

With every step I took, my heart flew higher and higher in my chest. I couldn’t stop smiling. The citizens of Morrumbi Town waved and smiled back. I think they liked me. But instead of stopping to talk to the baker about what he does on a regular day, I decided to search for the arcanists.

More people were in the streets than normal.

They were likely travelers here to see the first few rounds of the tournament. Some of them were probably arcanists as well. Did they already have teams? It occurred to me that I could stop and ask if they wanted to join me and Master Elias.

I walked onto the market street—a whole half mile in length!—and kept my eyes open for any arcanist.

Wren clawed excitedly at my shoulder. His fingers were sharp, but the gesture was light and gentle—more of a scrabble than a genuine scratch. “What’s that?” Wren asked. “It smells delicious! Do you think we can get some of it?” He’d twisted his long neck around to stare at one of the stalls.

I glanced around, still smiling. A man with skin like ancient stone and a mustache with three colors sat beneath a large canopy. He tended blazing grill lined with a wide variety of meat. Most of it I had never seen before.

My nose wasn’t quite as good as Wren’s, but after walking a few more feet, I agreed with him. It did smell delicious.

“That’s a food stall,” I replied matter-of-factly. I was pleased at how quickly I was learning town life. “They usually sell things. This meat here is served with rice wrapped up in palm tree leaves.”

The words sounded strange coming out of my mouth. It’d been years since I saw anything like this. It was a little surprising, almost like I’d been transported back to a different universe. I’d lived in the desert so long.

“My mouth is watering,” Wren said with a grown.

I pulled out a coin bag Elias had given me. “Mine, too. Let’s get some.” The cloth pouch was just large enough that I could grip it in my hand, and the top was tied with a red string. I untied it, but that was the easy part.

I frowned as the coins tumbled into my hand.

There were sixteen in total—seven silver ones and nine copper. The coins were all different sizes—the gold was about twenty percent larger than the silver, which was about twenty percent larger than the copper.

Behind the coins were several pieces of paper. I unfurled them and frowned. “What is this, Wren? Look. This paper says one rarik on it. What does that mean?”

Wren frowned. “No idea.”

I stared dumbfounded at the coins and paper in my hands. Master Elias had said I pay for goods and service with coins. I had coins. I saw the meat. I wanted the meat. Did I just give the coins to the man behind the grill and take what I wanted? That didn’t seem right.

Wren growled impatiently into my ear. “Hurry up, Amir. I want to try some of that meat! What’s the hold up?”

“I don’t know how much these are worth,” I whispered.

“Just ask someone,” Wren whispered back, matching my tone.

“What if they think I’m uneducated or insane?”

Wren flared some of his red scales. “Don’t humans just know how to use money? Isn’t that one of your innate magical abilities? I feel like it should be…”

I stood off to the side and waited.

A woman ambled over to the grill and handed something to the man. Coins? I couldn’t see. Her hand was closed. Then the man grabbed two pieces of meat off the grill and handed them to her.

Ah. Now I understood.

Once the woman was gone, I stepped up to the grill filled with confidence. I put all the coins in my hand and shoved the paper into my pockets. Clearly, I didn’t need those.

I handed the man all sixteen coins in my tightly held fist. The man held his hand open, and his eyes nearly burst from his skull when I dropped everything into his grasp.

“Two meats, please,” I said.

Wren wagged his tail. “Maybe… threemeats?”

“Uh, I don’t think we can do that,” I whispered. The woman before had only taken two…

“O-Oh, no you can have as much meat as you want,” the man said with a smile that reached the two stalls on either side of him. “Take it all!” He shoved the coins into his own bag, practically giggling.

Wren gripped my shoulder with his claws, his mouth salivating. “What kind of meat do you think it is? Beef? Chicken? Hog? You know, I’ve had snake before. It’s pretty good, too.”

At first, I thought the meat was just on the grill, but then I realized everything was on a stick. The man tending the stall grabbed everything, wrapped them in rice and leaves, and then handed them over, stick end down, so I take them without burning myself.

“We have chicken, rabbit, goat—it’s all yours!”

The man seemed really happy. Did he just like selling meat? Maybe this was his dream job.

I stepped aside to allow others to the stall. Then I handed a stick to Wren. My eldrin gobbled it all, barely chewing. He even consumed the stick, which surprised me.

Wren muttered something, I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying through all the chewing and wheezing. It sounded like he thought everything was delicious, though.

I smiled. The sight of the tiny syrocko drake inhaling the giant stake of food was ridiculous. Behind us, people pointed at him, murmuring and laughing.

I grabbed some of the chunks of rabbit.

It was just as delicious as I imagined it as a child. The rabbit was perfectly spiced and cooked to the perfect temperature. The rice was warm and sticky, and it clung onto my hands as I shoved the food into my mouth.

Things were looking up.

I hadn’t eaten much rabbit before living with Elias, but after staying with him, I loved it. He always brought it out for special occasions, like when I’d done a good job with my training.

Rabbit didn’t just taste like food. It tasted like growing stronger.

“Can I have some more?” Wren asked. “I need it to get bigger like Hyperion!”

I glanced at my shoulder in disbelief. “Did you really choke down the whole stick already?” I could have sworn Wren’s throat had somehow expanded after forcing the whole thing down. Then I laughed and handed him another stick of meat, rice, and palm leaf.

His tongue flickered in and out of his mouth as he ate it from my hand. “You know,” Wren said thoughtfully, “it tastes better when you take your time with it.”

The rabbit was so warm and satisfying. I pulled a prickly pear out of my backpack and plucked away at the spines. After finishing that meal, I wanted some sweet dessert to help it go down. “You want some?” I showed him the fruit. It wasn’t fresh—it had been in my bag for days—but it would still taste good.

Wren shook his head. “Syrocko drakes don’t really eat plants.”

Come to think of it, I’d never seen Hyperion try a prickly pear either.

Wren burped and then stared at our remaining meat. “I wouldn’t say no to more rabbit, though.”

People ran down the main market street. I tensed and whirled around. Was there trouble here in Morrumbi Town?

I didn’t see any warriors or fighters or thieves, though. I just saw a whole group of children storming down the street, each more panicked than the last. They were a few years younger than me—not yet adults, but big enough to bump into people and cause them to stumble.

A girl with long red hair that flowed like fire angrily shouted, Hurry! We’re going to be late to school because of you!” She wore a black dress that fluttered as much as her hair.

A boy in front of her, his hair shaved close to his head, wore a black tunic and shorts. They seemed to be matching. “It’s your fault!” the boy protested. “You’re the one who wanted to double check her homework!”

The two of them—and three others—ran right by me.

I blinked, then grinned.

School?

Homework?

I remembered hearing about those things at Rosewood Orphanage. Housemother Mila would often say we would need to learn our classroom etiquette, and how to properly complete homework. I never understood what she meant, and Master Elias never used those words. Not ever.

I handed Wren another stick of meat. “I want to check this out,” I whispered.

My eldrin gobbled down the stick. He choked a bit, and punched his own chest to swallow everything. After a cough, he asked, “Aren’t we supposed to be finding arcanists?”

I nodded once. “Maybe they’re in a school?”

“Hm. Maybe! I say we check it out then.”

Again, unable to stop myself from smiling, I headed down the market street, ready to discover something new about Morrumbi Town.