A beat.
“Get ready.”
Another.
“Get set.”
Then—
“Go.”
Flashing lights and a harsh buzzing sound tore through the air, announcing the start of the Games. Instinct sent the players surging forward—but momentum became their enemy almost immediately. The ice beneath their feet was impossibly slick. Bodies slipped, skidded, collided. Shouts of surprise and frustration echoed as competitors slammed into one another and the ground.
Vaelor adjusted instantly. Ice was familiar to him. This terrain, treacherous as it was, belonged to his people.
Mara’s first step betrayed her.
Her foot slid out from under her, arms flailing as she struggled to stay upright. Before she could fall, Vaelor caught her hand, his grip firm and steady. He shifted his weight, anchoring them both, and began guiding her forward step by careful step.
“Thank you, Vaelor,” she whispered, breathless.
He didn’t answer. His focus remained locked ahead. The mirrors distorted the light so completely it felt like night had fallen—no clear shadows, no reliable horizon. He couldn’t see the other players, but he could hear them. Raised voices. Sharp cries. Fear.
Something was wrong.
If he had to fight, he’d need both hands.
Reluctantly, he released Mara.
The moment he did, the world shattered.
The ice vanished beneath his feet, replaced by scorched ground and smoke-choked air. Fire thundered overhead. The battlefield surged back to life with terrifying clarity.
“Son, what are you doing?” his father demanded.
Vaelor turned, heart pounding. They stood amid chaos—pirates advancing, weapons blazing. These were the bandits whohad nearly destroyed their clan. He remembered the screams. The blood. The rage that followed.
“I told you to take the field,” his father snapped.
“But you need someone to watch your back—”
“I am a clan leader,” his father cut in. “I don’t need guarding. Do what I asked. Just once.”
The ground shook violently. Warriors fell. Blood soaked into the earth. Death pressed in from every direction.
“Father?”
No answer.
Panic seized him. Vaelor ran, dodging incoming fire, shoving aside anyone who blocked his path. He would cut down anyone if it meant finding his father.
“Vaelor!”
A female voice—wrong. Out of place.
“Go back to the settlement!” he barked. “This isn’t for you.”
“Settlement?” she called back. “Vaelor, listen to me!”
