Chapter 5: Festival of Death

Thankfully, Ryan turns out to be utter garbage at finding the precise locations of her targets. All we had to do was keep moving, and she was incapable of catching us.

"You grow tired," Raksha says as we move through the crowd, his breathing now a full-on pant.

"You're just saying that so I'll let you have a break."

"The djinn are not used to covert operations."

"I could always put you back in the urn. That'll be a good place the rest."

He doesn't reply, which I take as a declination. Whatever the urn is like, he hates it in there, though he refuses to admit it. Stupid pride. It killed more people than even the other great enemies of mankind, like fear, love or vegetables.

We've been on our feet a full day, and the Festival of Death is about to begin. At least, they're going to pick the participants right now. I hope the trials aren't gonna begin right away, because I am in no state to actually do anything. If I tried to run right now, my legs might give out permanently. My thighs and calves are on fire, and those are the least painful bits.

"Who do you think it's gonna be?" I hear a nobleman ask, and his lady friend replies, "That boy, certainly. Everyone is talking about him."

Please, no. Don't mean me.

I glance at the couple, and realize they're talking about another mage entirely. I follow their gaze, and my eyes land on a pale little boy. His skin is almost white, as is his hair, making him look more like a spectre than a human being. The eerie, almost-red eyes don't help the appearance, either. Though, the nervous look on his face is enough to reveal him to be just a regular kid. Who the hell allowed someone so young to come here?

"Marcus, of course, is going to be chosen," someone else whispers, and I follow their line of sight again, this time leading me to a tall, blond guy. He's about as handsome as a human being can get, with a firm jaw and deep blue eyes. However, the stupid clothes he's wearing tell me he's a tryhard with the ladies, so I'm just gonna write him off for now. Neither he nor the boy have mana that's anything special.

One of the servants standing in the clearing in the middle of the square blows his horn, silencing the crowd. "The Apostles shall now make their appearance," he announces, and Yukiji grabs my arm, clinging to it.

"Maybe you should have disguised yourself, after all," she whispers. "A glamour couldn't hurt."

"Psychological warfare," I tell her. "Relax. Trust me on this."

She nods, but doesn't let go, and the crowd on the other side of the square stats parting, letting twelve people through. As they walk, it's easy to see how proud of themselves they are, and why. Each one of them has a ridiculous amount of mana, making me look like a second-rate charlatan by comparison. Ryan is there, her eyes scanning the crowd. The woman in white is next to her, though her eyes seem to be focusing on something. The rest of them are pretty normal, save for another two. One surprises me by being so young – around my ages – and as tiny as I am. It's hard to tell whether they're a boy or girl from here, but their red hair and sharp features, coupled with the little grin they're sporting, gives them the appearance of a fox. The other surprising one is the djinn walking behind them, wearing the same outfit Raksha wore before I made him change. A djinn among the Apostles? Is that even allowed? How'd they get him to come out here? Is he trapped inside an urn, or did he find a way to escape that invisible wall back in the Wyrwood? His mana is more potent than that of the others, bar the little redhead, who is on the same level. Ozymandias and Xerxes? Those two are the ones known as the strongest Apostles, according to some of the gossip I've come across recently, but no one told me they weren't human.

"What's a djinn doing there?" I ask Yukiji, who gives me a weird look. "The tall, muscly guy with the weird skin – he's gotta be a djinn, right?"

Yukiji looks up at the Apostles. "The one In silver armor? That's Sammael, but he's human."

"No," I reply, pointing at the djinn. "The guy without a shirt."

"All of them are wearing shirts, Jonah."

Oh.

OH.

He has to be glamoured. No wonder no one's been talking about it. That's yet another thing I wish to learn; Why am I capable of seeing through glamours? Normally, it's done by focusing mana into your eyes, but that can't be maintained for long without your eyes being hurt, and I'm not even doing it. Something is definitely off about my origins. I suspect either my mom or dad isn't what they told me. Am I half-djinn? That would be a nice cliché, but I don't think it's true. Their kind tends to be a bit on the taller side, and I can barely reach the top of Raksha's head with my hand. I'm definitely not big enough.

Sammael, the Apostle in silver armor, steps forward, clearing his throat. "We have made a decision! The three participants of the trials of the Festival of Death have been chosen! Come forward!" His deep voice booms over the crowd, which I start looking around. The boy with the pale skin has a crow flying over his head, and he starts moving through the crowd, looking more and more nervous with each step. Marcus the handsome blonde joins him, a crow perched atop his shoulder, and then I look up.

No crow.

SHIT!

What do I do now? Everything was riding on be being chosen for the Festival. How the hell do I proceed now? Who's gonna believe me?

"Don't panic," Yukiji whispers, clutching my arm more tightly. "We'll stay with the boy."

"What are you talking about?"

"The albino boy – he was here alone. He has no one. Might be an orphan. We'll stay with him, claiming to be helping him prepare for each trial. That'll allow us to get closer to the other Apostles, if any of them ever have an audience with him. If that fails, we tell him what happened to you."

She's right. Crap. If only I'd stayed calm, I could've thought of that myself. It's not like me to get so panicky so quickly. What the hell was that?

"You learned fire too quickly," Raksha explains. I hate it when he acts like he can read my mind. "Fire comes from emotions of hate and anger, both of which cloud judgment. You got so nervous just now because you've been playing around with it, but mana is not a toy, and humans are not as well-equipped to use it all day as we djinn. This is why you need to be careful with your potential, lest you let it consume you."

For once, he's making some sense. Damn. I knew things were going my way a bit too easily, but two big setbacks in a row? Give a guy a break.

The third participant is a surprising one. It's a young woman from the same continent as Makena, and with the same skin color. They're gonna let her participate? I thought they still didn't have that many rights? Is it because she's a mage, or did the law change without my knowledge? Poor girl's gonna be put through more hell than the others.

"I can't believe they're letting a pig participate," whispers the noblewoman from before, referring to the girl's curves, no doubt. They're not too excessive, but there's definitely more of her than of most girls. For her part, she's holding her head up high, despite the many comments definitely being within earshot. Still, her mana isn't all that, so I doubt it's her.

It definitely isn't Marcus, who is too busy looking at the girl's chest to listen to Sammael explaining some stuff I'm not interested in. The kid – that's who will be my ticket. He's got nice mana, and he definitely looks unusual. What's more light than him? Even his body has parts of it.

"...will be taken to their rooms, where they'll have a day to prepare. To the competitors, I wish good luck. To the rest of you, I bid farewell." With his final words, Sammael turns around and starts leaving, followed immediately by the other Apostles. Before Ryan can turn around, I step out of the crowd, giving her a good look at me. Her eyes widen immediately, and I give her a smile, then calmly approach the boy. That, my friends, is psychological warfare, and it's already working. Ryan's teeth are clenched, and her fists are shaking with rage at her inability to do anything to me at this moment. I give her one final wink, and then she takes a step forward, the whites of her eyes turning black. Her mana becomes so dangerously sinister that I regret my decision for a brief moment, but then the woman in white grabs Ryan by the wrist.

"Not here, you fool."

"Let me go, Medea. That brat needs to die."

"Make a fool of yourself if you wish, but I'll not be ousted by your stupidity. If they others see you strike, they'll aim to take your head off, and I'll be fighting by their side."

As the two women glare at each other, their manas intensify. It's like watching a burning flame meet a massive glacier, with Ryan being the fire and Medea the ice. They're completely different in attire and personalities, and their manas are no more similar. Both are strong enough to kill me with ease, so I'm glad I have Raksha here as a contingency. Though I don't want to use him as a slave, I'll sink that low if it means I'll get to survive.

Pretending not to be unnerved, I walk over to the boy, who is shyly avoiding looking anyone in the eye. "Hey, kid," I say, and he looks up at me, playing with his fingers.

"H-Hi."

"So, you're one of the candidates for becoming the Child of Light and Shadow, eh? Must be exciting."

"N-No, not really. There's no way it can be me." Sheesh.

I give him a bright smile. "Come on, you can't be that bad. Your mana's pretty strong, you know. What's your name?"

"Snow." Oh, no. That's a slave's name. They're not allowed to use actual human names, so they're given ordinary nouns to be referred by. His skin and hair make it easy to see why that word in particular was chosen. Slavery may no longer be allowed, but it was only illegalized recently. Recently enough for him to have spent a few years as a slave, at least. They were the only people to live worse lives than the homeless ones in my slums. In fact, most of those slaves simply wound up becoming homeless themselves. The nobles didn't want to see that, so off to the slums they went.

"Where's your family, Snow?" I really can't go around adopting any more stray kittens. Get a grip, Jonah. You've got your own family to worry about.

The boy shrugs, looking away. "I never knew them, sir."

"Call me Jonah. There's no need for a sir." I extend my hand toward him. "You must not know a lot about magic, huh? So young as you are..."

"No, sir, I don't. I never used it before. They said it's bad."

"They?"

"The people I grew up around, sir. They didn't like magic. Said the magic knights would take me away. Said it was against Sol."

That stupid fire god Sol again. His worshippers are all idiots. We know for a fact it was the djinn who gave us fire, and yet those fools keep prattling on about their Burning Savior and how his light saved us from the Everwinter.

"I'm new to magic, too, Snow," I tell the boy, then gesture toward Raksha. "My friend there? He's much better. In fact, he's teaching me magic! Wouldn't you like to do that?"

The boy's eyes widen both in fear and curiosity. "I-I'm not so sure, sir. Sounds scary."

"Oh, but the trials are scary, Snow, and you aren't prepared for them. You really ought to prepare, you know, or bad things might happen."

"B-Bad things?" His snow-white skin is turning pink by now. "What sorts of bad things?"

"Who knows? I simply don't recall ever seeing anyone who's participated in one of these trials, other than the victor. Do you?"

He gasps. "I don't!"

"Well, then you might want to reconsider. Come now, it's not all that bad. You came here, didn't you? You came here to be scouted as a possible magic knight, eh? So did I, so did I. They'll make the announcements on that part soon. We'll be partners, you and I, see? That's why I ought to help you get ready. It wouldn't be kind of me at all to let you go into this, knowing you could get hurt. What do you say? Shall we go?"

He nods, not saying a thing, and I lead him to Raksha, sparing Ryan and Medea one final glance. Do your worst, bitches. I've got the chosen one on my side.

"Why would you do that?" Yukiji whispers as we reunite with them. "She's gonna send assassins after you now!"

"She was always going to do that," I reply. "At least now, I don't have to worry about whether or not they'll be there, and can actually plan ahead knowing what's to come. Makes things much simpler."

"And you're going to fight them off?"

"Not alone, I won't."

Raksha snorts, still holding his head high, acting like he's the king ruling over us mere mortals. "So you'll expect us to do absolutely everything, will you? I am not in the business of being a bodyguard."

"Technically, you're in the business of being a-" I remind myself Snow is right there, and manage to hold out on calling Raksha a slave. "-of being an idiot." He rolls his eyes at the terrible lie, while Yukiji glares daggers at the boy, who shrinks back.

"Why'd he here?" she asks coldly.

"Down, girl. He's a friend."

"He's a child."

"You're a child, and you're acting like one right now. Guys, this is Snow. We'll be helping him prepare for the trials."

"Why?" asks Raksha. Their attitudes really aren't helping us win him over.

"Because that's what decent people do?" Actually, it's because it gives us an excuse to stick around the palace for a bit longer, but I can't well tell them so right now. "Shut up and stop being difficult. Snow, they're calling you over."

The boy turns around, then clumsily waddles over to the servant holding a piece of paper out for him. The man gives Snow a key, then walks away, leaving the boy to return to us. "I got my own room! I never had one before!"

"Your own room?"

"Any room!" Oh, no. Oh, no, oh no. I can already see how this is gonna end up.

I force myself to smile. "Lead the way, buddy."

Beaming at me, Snow turns around and starts running excitedly, so we hurry to catch up with him. Suppose I've done a good job of motivating him, at least.

"I don't like this," Yukiji grumbles.

"I'm not trying to replace you, you dolt. Now move it!"

Once we're inside his room, I realize we're gonna be sleeping on the floor, as there is only one bed in here.

"Awesome!" Snow cheers.

"Drab and boring," adds Raksha.

"Filthy," Yukiji joins him, and I sense something outside the room.

I smack the backs of both their heads. "It's perfectly cosy. Now, Raksha, teach him as much about magic as you can. I have an errand to run. Yukiji, you're with me."

As we leave the inn and circle around it, we see a guy slightly older than me listening in on what's going on in our room. He doesn't notice us as we get closer. I clear my throat, and he jumps.

"O-Oh. Hello, there." He gives us a friendly smile, but I cross my arms. "I was just here to look for my dog. You haven't seen him by any chance, have you?" Yukiji then crosses her own arms, and the guy's optimism fades away. "No dice, huh?" I shake my head. "Okay, fine. I was sent to spy on the kid."

"Send by...?"

"Lady Medea. She's got her eyes on all the participants." Of course she does. Compared to Ryan's wildness, Medea would be the cold, calculating one. "Look, I'm not really looking for trouble. I can just give her some random info and get the money. No need to oust me-"

"Spy on her for me, or I tell her everything."

His mouth gangs open. "B-But-"

"Nope." I smile at him, doing my best to seem as condescending as possible. "You're doing this for me, or I'm ousting you, and then you'll die screaming."

Yukiji elbows me, earning my attention. "He's like me."

"An assassin?" She nods. Interesting. "What's his name, then?"

"Obi."

The guy frowns, pointing at her. "I don't remember you being in the ranks."

She opens her mouth, and I assume she's gonna reveal herself, so I touch her shoulder and stop her. "She's none of your concern. You're doing this, or you're screwed. You can risk her catching you, or you can have the guarantee that she'll have your head. Not even a choice, really."

Obi smirks. "What if I kill you right here?"

Yukiji's knives are out in an instant, and I've got a ball of fire in my palm. "That would be ill-advised," I warn, and can already feel my cool slipping a bit. I'm gonna have to put fire on hold for now, and have Raksha teach me something else.

"She's young, and you've got no experience," Obi replies, holding out his own knives. "I bet I can take you."

What gave me away? Can't have been my mana. Was it my composure? No, I'm a great liar. My stance, then? Do I not stand like a mage would? I know I'm not prepared for a fight, but does he? Is that the secret?

"You're bluffing," I say, and his grin widens.

"Am I?"

I extinguish the fire, step forward, and spread my arms, offering myself to him. "You are."

Obi glares at me, then at Yukiji, then back at me, and puts his knives away. "Damn it."

I smile, victorious, then tell him all I want to learn from Medea, and when to contact me. Once we're done, I head back inside and join Snow for a magic lesson. Things are going alright so far. We haven't actually gotten any closer to getting my family back, or even to defeating the bitchy Apostles, but the progress is still there. Step by step, I'll reach my goal. Brick by brick, I'll tear the palace down.