#139
Spring. Day 151. Noon. The Arena.

We left at just about evening, when a bell tolled for dinner time. It took us well until midnight by carriage to get to the city's center. I swear the tower's base alone could fit a small castle. We were greeted by guards at the main entrance, obsidian pitched and gold veined. Gaped open without a gate, a magic shield substitute was there instead. Was a foggy morning too, concealed the sky in full. The entrance was creepily inviting, despite the two armor-clad guards before it.

Their armor was something else. Tan and brown, green cloth underneath. Eyes protected by thick and clear goggles. Every bit of the plate armor had a pocket or two strapped to it as well. I wonder what's in those pockets. I was being ushered impatiently by Clear and one of his guards to ask.

It was only after a few questions that they let us in, the shield opened up just enough to let us through. A press of a few buttons in an order, beeping each time. Clear's guard remained outside the entrance, awaiting our return by the carriage. I thought that at least one of Ginger's sister would have joined us, but it seems that they are already well known by their looks and voice.

Inside the Sky Spear, an upward spiral of walkways, beams, and hustling fairies going from wall to wall as if to inspect them. It appeared to shrink the further up it went. An armored minotaur stood before a fountain grand in its size, splitting the red rugged path in two directions. Clear approached the guard and asked him a question, one I couldn't hear. The minotaur glanced around and tapped his spear twice against two spots on the fountain's base. Then the minotaur whispered something back to Clear. Directions, the movement of his fingers gave it away.

After a bit of getting lost among the dozens of floors which always overlooked another one, we found our way to the Arena. We were looking at a wall when we did. Clear pulled out some notes and pressed very specific spots that shined a dim blue when he did. Then came that feeling of being forcefully pulled apart again- teleportation. Not sure I'll ever get used to the feeling. Ginger held up better than I did, though.

Where we landed was a place further up tower obscured from the rest by darkly tinted glass. Another room full of luxuries too. Shinier and far more splendid than what Clear had in his mansion. But we're not here to gaze at bells and whistles. Clear wasted no time getting us past the first set guards, showing them all the falsified paperwork he managed to collect. It fooled them all too.

The walls were gold, ceilings white, and floors red with gold patterns. Potted plants lined the hall we wandered through. Eventually we could hear the muffled cheering touch our ears. We came upon the door leading to it, pointed out by the plaque above it.Arena, it read. How creative. The guard standing before door kept us back, informing us that the next set of matches would be later in the evening. Only then would we be allowed. Manners and rules, he said.

So we've been waiting since in an assigned guest room. Ginger has been itching to get in there however. She has the feeling in her gut, that her brother is in there, playing with their father. Clear only had to calm her down once but I can see her patience wearing thin. Then an oddly tuned bell rang throughout the halls and rooms, signaling the end of the matches and the beginning of a break.

Ginger made for the door and began to open, Clear stopped her before she could poke her head through. He gazed through a peeping hole in the door. We needed to wait until the small hall wasn't crowded. It'd be too hard for the three of us to move in a group if it was.

So we waited.

#140
Spring. Day 152. Evening. The Arena

Clear quickly signaled to us that it was okay to go through the halls. We followed his lead once more to the Arena's main door. The guard let us in without much say and we soon found ourselves waiting yet again. The Arena itself is strange, having everything neatly organized and cleaned but it still held the signature round shape. There's another oddity I noticed glancing around, the lighting. It's only focused on the ring, blacking out any sight of the spectators on the other side. A grand chair where the king would sit, was fenced off by blackened glass.

The chairs began to fill up, quietly. Whispers upon whispers about the upcoming fight. Bets placed on the two who would be entering the ring. Two names spoken the most “The King” and “Bore.” Eavesdropping is useful in these types of situations, a matter of training the ears and not staring for too long. There were some interesting wears among the other nobles: barrages of plumaged hats and sleeves, thick blazers and jackets. Some even went some lengths to hide all their hair. There were a few figures I thought I recognized however. Familiar movement between two, one guiding the other. A third behind them, carrying a small box. Behind us, a familiar scent.

Things immediately quieted down when a guard in little armor came up the steps where the chair was. “The King Nutmeg presiding.” He roared. Instantly, the crowd hushed. Ginger shifted uncomfortably at that, narrowed her eyes.

Nutmeg came out from the shadows, all cloaked in shining silver. A lengthy cape clasped by gold shaped into leaves. Wore a crown of silver adorned with sparkling blue crystals. His mane and tail were a pale yellow and his coat was a blackened red. His eyes as red as his cape. Held a grim smile, “Bring out the fighters.” he said lowly.

A door opened from wall under the chair, revealing a hulking minotaur scarred to the bone from his battles here. He sulked to the other side with only a helmet hiding his face. The other was a pony, “Daddy.” Ginger whispered. I shifted a bit more, trying to keep herself to the chair.

The door in slammed shut and a bell chimed, the fighters began to circle each other. Clear brought something to his eye that glinted in the dim light. The three figures I noted before began to move toward the grand chair. Then he whispered to Ginger, she turned to the seat behind her. The familiar scent came closer and I felt familiar hooves press against my back. I felt my wisp inside me begin to shift and pulled toward their direction. Her and I moved toward the ring, Ginger followed closely behind us and Clear after her.

When we got to the ring's edge, Ginger yelled out, “By order of Hestan Royalty, I demand that this fight be halted.”

We climbed in to the ring, both fighters stopped before an attack was thrown. “And what 'royalty' might this be?”

Ginger rolled down her hood, revealing her face. “Ginger Snow, first heir to the throne, brother Nutmeg.”

Nutmeg chuckled and sneered, “So the whore finally comes out from hiding. Do tell me what rock you've been under, so that I may congratulate it.”

“None in this kingdom and whatever reward you would offer is a grain in sand. Step down, Nutmeg, this is already over.”

“You bring a maid, a simple pegasus, and a noble colt, I have fifteen guards here and a monster of a minotaur. But, that does not say I'm underestimating you. Ni.” He motioned one of the guards and the stands began to empty, quickly and neatly. He directed the other who jumped down before us. “I pit your pegasus against my strongest captain.”

“No.”

“Yes, otherwise.” He nodded his head toward the minotaur. “Poor Daddy will have an accident.” He imitated Ginger.

We turned, seeing the minotaur had the king easily pinned under his hands. “No, I will fight instead. Far better for you to keep me off the throne for good should you win.” She stripped off her noble robe and tossed it to me.

“And I shall deny you that regardless, even if you win. You there,” he pointed to a dimwitted guard. “ring the bell!”

And so it rang. Clear, Dagressa, and I backed away from the fight. Ginger and the guard circled each other. The guard held a spear and stood well on his hind legs. Ginger remained low, eying the movement of his hooves. The guard lunged forward with a quick strike. Ginger dodged and ensnared his spear and with a spin, she swept her hind legs across his unprotected face. He stumbled but managed to regain his spear, sweeping low. The shaft tripped Ginger's landing but she recovered quickly.

A high sweep, a duck. A thrust, a shift to the left. It seems that Ginger had spent the last few days studying the fighting techniques of the guards here. Maybe it was muscle memory from dealing with Hisser and Fisher. I don't know but she seemed to dance to a song to avoid the spear and attacked whenever she could. Nutmeg bit his lip, the fight would only last until one of them got a proper advantage. Another low sweep and then a loud snap, she broke the spear's shaft, a thing of lightweight wood.

He switched to fighting on all fours and closed in on Ginger. She narrowly dodged his first few punches but managed to strip him of his bracers. Another clash left him without his gorget. A final bout left Ginger with a bloodied nose and his loose breastplate clanging hard against the ground. Then they stared each other down.

“It's your win, milady.” The guard spoke in a rasped voice, bowing his head.

“No!” Nutmeg shouted. I saw a spurt of blood leave his lip. “You will keep fighting. You know the rules here. Either death or out cold and I prefer death.”

“King Nutmeg, Ginger has some sense of honor to her. You've done nothing but sap this kingdom dry.”

“I do not hear you, Burdock. Bore, finish the old king. I'm taking my leave.”

“No!” Ginger shouted. She grabbed the upper half of the spear and threw it light as an arrow. Piercing and locking the minotaur's arms together. She then rushed over to her father. The minotaur wailed and back away from the old king

Clear nodded his head toward the shadowed figures that made their way to the grand chair. They knocked out the two guards that guarded the door Nutmeg had come from. Then the two then pinned Nutmeg to the ground. The third shadowed figure emerged from the shadow and hurried to the old king's side. It was Bolt and the two pinning Nutmeg down were none other than Fisher and Hisser. Dagressa breathed a sigh of relief and I felt the wisp travel back inside my body. I felt a bit more lively then.

“Dagressa,” Clear directed, “take care of the minotaur, calm him down if you can.” She simply nodded her head and went to work.

The twins brought down Nutmeg and dragged him to Ginger. Clear and I followed after. He began to laugh. “Surely, you know it couldn't have been this easy.”

“I've had my suspicions.” Clear answered. “And so has the Princess. You're not actually Nutmeg, are you.”

The impostor smiled, “Not one damned bit. It's exactly this type of scenario he always predicted.” He looked to the minotaur. “Hey Bore, show us a trick!”

I felt the air shift and grow cold. I flew to Dagressa and pulled her away from the beast. The end of my tail froze solid as did my hooves and the tips of my wings which spun me into a tumble. Throwing Dagressa from my forelegs and closer to Ginger. I pulled quickly pulled my journal and turned to my earlier pages where I had written the spells from the First Volume. Turning to face the iced up minotaur, I read off the first spell my eyes came across and a barrage of wisps exploded out from my body. They merged and spat out a large bolt of fire. It was effective enough to melt his armor of ice in whole. I read off the next spell and the wisps formed themselves into a jagged line. Lightning darted out and paralyzed the roaring minotaur. I closed the book and the wisps reforged themselves with me.

It took a moment, for my mind to catch up with my actions. “What did I just do?”

“Cast magic is what you did.” He looked me over as I laid on the ground, taking in all I am. “So you're her son.” Ginger's father bowed. “Great Descendant Letter Bee, I- King Ginseng, am grateful to meet you. I'll tell more later.” He winked and raised his head. “And Ginger, my sweet daughter, it's good to have you home. Your mother?”

“Passed.” Ginger's eyes caught the empty ground, as if a flower had caught her eye.

“I shall mourn later. No doubt Nutmeg knows about this by now. Lord Clear Wing, as my advisor I trust you know where the throne room has been moved?”

“Indeed. It's near the peak now, since the tower's been finished.” Clear gave him a small map. “Should do well enough.”

“Of course. Nutmeg always loved high places. Even thinning air wont' stop him.” He nudged Bolt off of him, interrupting some bandage work. “Tend to Bore. Clear, Dagressa, take control of the guards. Can't have them confused. I'm sure you prepared for that already, Clear.”

“I have.”

“Good. Letter, Ginger, and I will head to the throne room. You three,” he pointed, “take out guards or take care of the injured, if need be.”