Draconic Ascendance: The King Selection

The Brutal Trials

Eurydice walked in the middle of the platform and danced in the air. At first, the people were stunned in delight as she whirled in the air with her black flowing dress. Her blue hair covered her exposed shoulders whilst the sky turned dark. Ares watched in awe as thunder roared in the sky, unpleased.

Hooded warlocks appeared in the stadium's circumference each holding a staff of calamity. This was a legendary weapon owned by the Queen, allowing her to manipulate the weather. The warlocks were her clones.

Icarai took a deep breath knowing that beneath him death would soon loom. The breathing of the men became unstable and wary. There was an ominous atmospheric aura around them. They closed their eyes muttering: 'Don't worry, this will happen only once and you can forget joining this damned Selection, forever."

Ares's grip tightened around the bars as he watched the helpless men scatter like flies, some trying to near the exit- but it was sealed. Icarai figured out to be merciful and gave the soldiers a few minutes before commencing the game.

"Contain your breathing," a chivalrous Knight encouraged some of the newer ones who attended the Selection. They did not know what they walked into and were only convinced of the after-reward. The Queen returned to her throne and locked her legs, a glass of wine in her fingers.

"Hurry up, Icarai," she yammered. "You don't want me to push you off the platform, right?"

Icarai held his breath. 'Sorry, comrades.' he mumbled under his breath so softly that the Queen did not notice. He said a small prayer to the Heavens and closed his eyes.

'Oh, help us find a new King that can restore our land.'

The Queen turned over to him and summoned a rock from the tips of her fingers. She slowly provoked him with it and complained, just like a spoiled child.

"Let it begin, now~!"

Icarai had high hopes that one of the Princes would become the King someday. He just wishes for someone to finally convince her to change the ways Fontana is ruled. And only an excellent, skilled man can do such.

He placed his bets on the young and mighty, the rising Prince of the East, Prince Xavier. It was told that his Father, the King of Valonia, once slain a Wyrm- a mythical creature who lives in the depths of the rocky Earth.

"Icarai!" Eurydice impatiently pouted.

"Alright, alright!" the young man fixed his tunic and huffed. "Let me introduce the Trial before the first game."

The stadium opened wide, transporting the participants in an endless flat field of grass. The Princes were amazed at the finery of spells used to conduct the test. It was the first time they had heard of spatial magic.

The clueless men looked around.

"In a span of 300 seconds, you must survive the calamity. Those who will be injured severely will not pass the Trial. Is this understood?"

The calamity?

None knew what it meant.

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Brilliant," Icarai said.

The cheering turned into prayers of worry and the appointed smiles of the nobles faded. The warlocks raised their staffs accordingly to cast a spell.

"Your 300 seconds, begin now."

___

Screams filled the stadium and the royalties' true nature was exposed during a time of doom and desperation. The men did their best to avoid the impending doom. Crimson acid rain clouded the skies, exceeding liquids that burn and corrode the measly skin. The participants suffered burns as they scattered like ants.

The ground becomes thick mud, and something unknown comes, grabbing the feet of those who aren't agile enough to avoid it. The royalties took this time to survey the best candidates for their daughters. Ice spikes grew from the ground- impaling the participants who fled like flies. Those who valiantly showed valor were spared by the warlock clones, most especially the knights who placed the villagers' lives first and used their bodies as shields to protect the weak and incapacitated.

Ares could see the intentions of the Selection just by looking at the mere event. The queen may not have the best reasons of why she conducted the selection but it was clear that she had to filter out the ones who qualified. Here, The nobles are not the star of the show, but the commoners who have their own strategic ways to avoid danger and ensure the survival of others. Other star stealers were those of the people who helped the others survive the 'calamity'.

Ares's gut churned as he witnessed his fellow farmers crying for help as the ice separated them from one another. They attempted to flee the fields, but found themselves being chased by sharp, glaciers- ready to skewer them.

His eyes roasted of the queen who stared at the bloodshed beneath her with a mad smile. The queen notices his narrow stares and her lips grow more. Ares averted his gaze and pursed his lips.

'Control yourself. Don't let her get to you,' he thought. "That lunatic..."

Icarai saw the queen giggling. He gulped and pretended to be not bothered by her.

"He's intimidated, isn't he?" The Queen comments out of nowhere, her attention not directed to the mass annihilation beneath her, but by the lone and ignorant, Ares.

"W-Who?"

"That Ares..." she comfortably snuggled in her seat. "Surely by now, he's not going to think of something stupid that can ruin my plans, yes?"

"To be honest I think this will push him even more to wreak havoc into your life, My Queen."

Eurydice chuckled, but just very lightly. The jewels that dangled in her azure hair shimmered at the reflection of sunlight. "That is fine, I ought to have some excitement."

"He excites you?"

The queen dropped her gaze at the Selection and did not reply.

Fresh blood and limbs remained in the battlefield as five minutes came to pass. This was the most brutal trial yet to have come in 5 years. The Queen was more than excited to see only 30 of the thousand men- survive the trial without a scratch. The four princes were still intact, unfazed. They charmingly removed their shiny armor while the crowd cheered for their names.

"Piece of cake," Prince Kael of Tibell cheerfully stretched his arms in the air. The princes too, did the time. They wondered if the Queen took notice of their efforts in that Trial. Their swift and beautiful movements, which they honed for god knows how long.

Some of the survivors were commoners. Some were Knights, and barely two nobles who happened to hide behind the Knights' shields. The severely injured ones were filtered out of the battlefield and the blood of their men was cleared in some sort of magic that nobody knew where it came from. All they knew was that the Trial- the scandalous, disgusting, and heart-wrenching Trial, was finally, god forbid- over!

The Queen wandered her eyes across the battlefield and heaved a sigh. The results were definitely satisfactory- probably even more effective than last year's Selection. But Queen Eurydice was not satisfied with this outcome. The brave eyes of those who remained standing ticked her. Especially those Princes!

How she hated the way they dramatically flipped their robes! Or the way they styled their hair after the Trial! Was she too kind to them? Or did her idea of summoning the Calamity Cultists not work as effectively as she had surmised?

She had expected one of them to fall on the battlefield! But to her disappointment, they were incredibly intact!

"Ugh," she groaned, insulted. She loathed their thick skulls as they smiled and waved at the women in the bleachers who desperately cried their names. Moreover, she was even more disgusted that some of the 'unqualified' nobles made it to the upcoming First Game.

"Those Knights must have done a great job protecting the others," Icarai clapped his hands, happy to see that a few mighty ones remained. "We should put them to use as your bodyguards, my Queen."

"Is that so?" she collectively observed them. "I see one of them is quite skilled. Promote him. I'd like to see him with a sword, bearing the sigil of my name."

Icarai's eyes widened. "He made it that quick as your bodyguard?!"

"Don't look at me like that," she glared and snubbed. "It was your suggestion, not mine. I see his potential."

Icarai nodded and added this to his trusty clipboard, an object he carried every so often because the Queen always came up with ridiculous lists of commands to do, and if he dared miss one, she'd have his head rolling in her carpet.

"I told you that the Princes this year are unique!" he told her.

Icarai was able to sigh in relief. He wouldn't want to go around the trouble of explaining to the royal families if ever so that their son doesn't return. The last time a Prince came to join the Selection and returned with bruises and trauma, Fontana almost winded up in another war.

"Tsk," she hissed. "I doubt they'll finish the other three games."

"Look at their spirit!" Icarai flailed his arm to allow the Queen to consider looking deeply into their pure souls. "Their intentions for you are beautiful, My Queen!"

"The only spirit I'll ever want to see break, is his," her spiral eyes ogled at Ares who rushed into the stadium to help a few injured men.

"My Queen," Icarai called out to her with concern. "Be careful with him."

She stood up from her throne while glancing at Ares one more time.

Ares was in distress, carrying the wounded into one area to be tended to. She wondered why he'd even bother caring for those who were heavily injured. 

'He isn't the one who's injured... why does he look so pissed?'

She stared more and more, watching him as he tried to revive does who weren't breathing anymore. 

"What's with him pressing their chests? As if that's going to wake them up?"  

"He seems... to care a lot about these people. Maybe they're his friends?"

Eurydice pursed her lips, turned around and then said, "Call the medical mages to tend the wounded."

Icarai lowered his head as the Queen vanished in the air. And then, he breathed. As if the thorn in his esophagus had been taken out. He stared at the sinful stadium and a smile erected from his kindred lips.

"The Queen never calls for a magical ambulance during the Selection."

Queen Eurydice strode the silent halls, her eyes still fixated on Ares who helped the wounded with bandages and carried humongous pails on his sturdy back. She yearned for those stern, rich, yet caring golden eyes that captivated her in the dining room- look for her. But he never did, yet she stared at him nevertheless.

Ares could not believe what he had witnessed today. The Trial which everyone feared so much, was simply skipped by his fortunate odds. Had he participated, would he have had the chance to make it into the First Game?

Ares knew the Queen wanted him to give his attention. From miles apart, he could tell that she was in the corridors, on the sixth pillar of the third floor- looking down at him with those amused eyes. What did she want him to do? To fuel her entertainment by striking a glance of resentment?

'No, no,' he refused while pressing the bandage against his buddy, a farmer he knew in the village who happened to be 33 and unluckily qualified for this miserable event. The man writhed in pain, his right arm danging with only a piece of his skin as support.

Be damned his reasons for returning to Fontana.

Be damned his counts of murder.

Be damned the Selection.

Ares finally decided to return a glare at the Queen who had been staring at him, but once he did, he found her nowhere.

By the time Ares looked back at his buddy, his eyes couldn't believe it. There, what was once a smashed limb had become utterly flawless without a hint of scar! However, his buddy fell unconscious without him noticing.

The palace medical mages arrived and built lines for healing. Nobody even knew they existed. Perhaps the Queen only took the mages for war?

Ares looked for her everywhere, his eyes darting at every inch of sight he could. But there was no trace of the Queen's vibrant blue hair.

She was so powerful.

Unfathomably, powerful.

She was like a Devil, more than a Wyvern.

Her abilities could please gods.

But she lacked a heart.

Ares placed his palms against his chest and wondered.

If he stood beside her and changed her, would Fontana become a better place?

And what demolished the Queen's heart for her to descend into chaos that way?