The Garden of Secrets had grown more and more populated over the last day and night. Countless wanderers had crossed the tree lines, faces fraught with wonder and confusion, while champions and scoundrels alike emerged from the portals that riddled these lands. Exotic vessels and machines had even descended from the shrouded skies to make berth by the lakeside, and from the hearts of these strange contraptions came both curious explorers and conqueror kings with their respective guardians in tow. Many gathered to the ruins, where they found lodgings that could easily accommodate each and all no matter what their species, though some harbored hostility and distrust toward these strangers from beyond and thus settled in makeshift bivouacs, far away from the throngs of potential cutthroats.
While the Garden had grown steadily, however, so had the worries and suspicions of the contestants and those who came to attend as their spectators, for where were their hosts? In the dark they had decided to come, baited by the promise of glory and the right to a single wish, but there had been no duly enlightenment upon their arrival, save for the words of the few natives, claiming employment by this enigmatic Cabal. Upon their second dawn in this strange world, many considered returning to their homes, but a sudden change in blazing blue sparkle of the sun-ring that floated above their heads rekindled their hope.
Indeed, it was only moments later that shadows convened atop the basaltic mesa standing at the garden’s heart. The crown burst alit as a ring of green fires, and the figures seemed as dark giants in that single blinding flash. When the light receded, there was naught but silence across the Garden, as all had turned their eyes toward the structure where now stood the long-awaited hosts of the event.
“On behalf of the Cabal, I welcome you all to this Garden of Secrets,” began the middle silhouette in an assuasive tone, with a voice that was clearly male. “We are overjoyed to see you gathered here in such numbers. For those who did not have, ah… much of a choice in this matter, I will also apologize on behalf of our more mischievous brothers, sisters and gender-ambiguous siblings. Those who were brought here against their will, however, may very well find our proposition of interest and well worth the stay.”
“Indeed,” began the shadow to the first orator’s right, a wizened crone from the huskiness of her speech, “we have contacted great realms and kingdoms from beyond the seas, beyond the firmament… some, even, from beyond the walls of time and space. The purpose, as many of you are aware, was to enable a first contact between worlds that may have otherwise never met, and to share and pool our knowledge. However, for many of you, only the lure of greed and glory held any sway over your hearts... and that is good. And so, to sate your thirst for battle and ours for understanding, we bring you: the Tournament of Champions.”
High above, the blazing halo shone once more, though this time there was much more softness to its glow. The crown of colors was swirling faster and faster, smoky wisps breaking off like dust from a comet’s tail, and soon it had unfurled across the darkening skies, dancing the quiet dance of the northern auroras. One could count fourteen of these cosmic draperies, billowing in the waves of this black dawn. “Step forth,” the crone commanded solemnly, “for these are the roads to your battlefields. Though to kill is no requirement for success, only the victors may advance toward their goal, while the defeated will be healed and given a second chance at life.”
“Whether their pride recovers, however, will be up to them,” another added slyly, and those who were forcefully brought to the Gardens had recognized his detestable surliness, which was instantly met with a chorus of gritting teeth and shaking fists.
“The prize,” the first orator interrupted, “is the right for a single wish to the victorious team: from the simplest to the most ambitious, we will do all in our power to grant it.” He had come to a pause, as if hesitating at the thought of adding that despite the wish, the experiences they would live in this endeavor would be the most enriching of rewards. He ultimately reconsidered, doubting any of these aspiring champions actually cared about their scholarly ways.
“It is time,” said the Cabal, their voices uniting in a stentorian chorus. The fourteen snaking lights glimmered in the darkness as they stretched far below, forming radiant stairways for the combatants to ascend. “March into the rifts, and prove your strength to all who have gathered here, today. March on, and fight for glory.”
Submit Thread for Judgment