---
CHAPTER 3 — THE FESTIVAL OF CROWNS
---
Dawn broke with the sound of bells. Not the single toll of the city clock, but a chorus — dozens ringing in unison, their notes rippling across the rooftops of Asterion.
Kael was already awake. Sleep had been a courtesy he granted his body, not a necessity. The room he'd rented above The Stag's Head was narrow, with one small window overlooking the street. The smell of fresh bread drifted up from the bakery across the way.
He dressed without hurry, strapped his hidden sword in place, and stepped out into the river of people flowing toward the central plaza.
Side spoke in his mind, voice as steady as if it had been waiting all night.
> Side: "The Festival of Crowns was founded one hundred and twenty years ago to resolve succession disputes between the Five Crowns without civil war. Every two years, the crowns send champions. Nobles, commoners, even foreigners may compete. The victor earns the right to claim one crown's patronage for the next two years."
Kael: "And this patronage is…?"
Side: "Wealth. Protection. Political leverage. In some cases, military backing. Enough to make a nobody into a kingmaker."
Kael: "Useful."
---
The plaza had transformed overnight. The arena's stands were packed. The air buzzed with anticipation, the hum of thousands of voices. Merchants hawked bright ribbons and miniature crowns. Drummers beat a steady rhythm that pulsed in the chest.
At the far end, the platform of the Five Crowns gleamed in the morning sun. The seats were filled now.
The Gold Crown's representative — a sleek man in silks, rings glittering on every finger.
The Crimson Crown's general, armored in crimson lacquered plate, face hidden behind a visor.
The Emerald Crown's archmage, robes the green of deep forest, staff topped with a crystal that caught the light.
The Sapphire Crown's diplomat, a tall, pale woman with eyes like still water.
And the Black Crown's masked adjudicator, dressed head to toe in shadowed black and silver.
---
A herald in white stepped forward, voice booming through some magical amplification.
"By the will of the Five Crowns and the law of the Pact, the Festival begins! Let the trials test our champions' strength, cunning, and resolve. Let those who stand at the end claim the glory due them!"
The crowd roared.
Contestants were called forward — nearly a hundred of them. Kael moved with the pack into the arena, noting faces, stances, weapons. Some strutted. Some scanned the crowd for approval.
A voice to his left: "You look like you know what you're doing."
Kael glanced sideways. A young man with shaggy dark hair and a lopsided grin was watching him. He wore plain leathers and carried no visible weapon.
"Ryn Talvek," he said. "Commoner. Here to make some nobles cry."
"Kael Cromwell," Kael replied. "Here to win."
Ryn's grin widened. "Good answer."
---
On Kael's other side, a woman in pale blue robes adjusted the clasp of her cloak. She was tall, with sharp features and an expression that could freeze water. A slim wand was holstered at her hip.
"Seren Veylan," she said without looking at him. "Sapphire Crown scholarship entrant."
Kael arched a brow. "And?"
"And I intend to pass the Labyrinth without you slowing me down."
Ryn snorted. "Friendly, isn't she?"
Seren ignored him entirely.
---
The herald raised a hand. "The first trial is the Labyrinth! Beneath the arena lies the old city vaults, long since claimed by the dark. Within, beasts from across the realms await. Your task is to find the exit before the sands of the hourglass run out. Fail, and you will remain there… permanently."
The crowd cheered again. The gates at the arena's center creaked open, revealing a broad stone stair descending into darkness.
Side's voice murmured, quieter now.
> Side: "There are no rules against killing fellow contestants in the Labyrinth."
Kael: "Good to know."
---
They descended into the dark. The air grew cooler, damper. Torches flared in iron brackets along the walls, casting flickering shadows. The passage opened into a broad chamber where five archways yawned, each leading into a different corridor.
The herald's voice echoed faintly behind them. "The trial begins… now!"
Contestants surged forward. Kael hung back just enough to avoid the crush, his eyes adjusting to the dim. Ryn stuck with him, whether by choice or instinct. Seren veered down the leftmost arch without a glance back.
> Side: "Monsters ahead. Mixed species. Some imported for spectacle, others… less predictable."
Kael: "Let's see what this city thinks is dangerous."
---
The first fight came quickly.
Two hulking, furred shapes barreled out of the dark — ironfang maulers, their claws glinting like blades. A pair of contestants screamed and went down under the beasts' weight.
Kael stepped forward, drawing his sword in a single, fluid motion.
Steel whispered through air — one slash severed a mauler's forearm, another pierced its throat. Blood sprayed hot and metallic. The second beast lunged, jaws gaping — Kael pivoted, blade arcing up to split its jaw clean through.
Ryn stared. "You're… good."
Kael wiped the blade on the beast's fur. "I'm adequate."
---
Behind them, shadows shifted. Kael didn't look, but his own stretched unnaturally for a heartbeat — and the two fresh corpses vanished into it.
Only Side's voice marked the moment.
> Side: "Two new assets stored."
Kael: "Keep it quiet."
---