The King's Gamma (#Wattys2024)

Thirty One

Darcon - Leviathan Prince

We watched as the champions from previous fights stepped in. Some in the crowd were cheering for the werewolf, others for the vampire. The loudest cheer was for the Ogre. When the fourth competitor stepped out, however, the crowd was silent. The figure was thin and seemed frail as it stepped out. Covered in armor as black as his hair, golden eyes stared past a black leather mouth cover.

"Welcome our latest competitor, Marcellus!" The announcer read from the papers he was holding. "Give an applause to our first mage in many, many years. The new champion from Master Ahman's corner. Master Ahman has placed a total bid of three thousand golden bars and seven hundred silver on his new champion. May luck be with you, Master." the announcer bowed in mockery towards Ahman.

The figure seemed to pay no mind to the announcer, golden eyes scanning the crowd, slowing as it went over the masters before turning towards the three champions in front of him. The vampire was first to move, and I was surprised to see the golden eyes follow the vampire's movement with a preciseness that seemed deathly. The vampire was locked in the mage's arms before he could realize and he was left unconscious a mere second later.

The wolf perceived the mage as the most imminent threat and ran toward the mage with aggression. The ogre started moving as well and there was a split second where I could swear I saw the golden eyes shift to the ogre and back. The mage moved, shoving the wolf towards safety and taking the hit. The mage said something to the wolf and returned his attention to the ogre.

By now the crowds had grown silent, surprised at the turn of events.

The ogre moved again, swinging the hammer at the mage who surprisingly lit his entire body on fire. A thick smoke accompanied by a low hum and sizzle followed, the melted iron shining red hot. The mage moved with a swiftness that seemed unfathomable as a sword of lightning formed in his hand.

The ogre was defeated before a sound could be uttered from anyone, the mage stood triumphantly atop the ogre.

The wolf weakly approached the mage who turned golden eyes towards his crouching figure. The mage lifted a hand and a spore-like fog encroached the wolf and the wolf seemed to fall asleep.

The mage looked right at my father and gave a curt bow before returning to the cage he had come from.

"You!" My father shouted. "Wait."

The mage stopped and turned to look at him without flinching at the harshness of my father's eyes.

"What kind of mage are you?"

I could almost imagine the smirk the mage had on, golden eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Are there different types of mages, then?"

A guard appeared in front of the mage, a weapon at the ready.

"How dare you speak to the Emperor this way?!"

Golden eyes looked over the guard before looking at my father again.

"I may be a mage, I may not be a mage. Maybe I care whether you are an Emperor, and maybe I care that you are thinking of chopping my head off. You will never succeed. I can hear your mind, I know every move you will make before you make it. I know every counter measure to every move you will ever think to make and I enjoy beating respect into snot nosed ass wipes. So, by all means, poke me with your toy."

The guard leapt forward, spear aimed right at the mage. The spear shattered on impact, the mage watching the guard quietly.

"Well, that tickled a bit."