On the morning of the Grand Challenge, the whole town of Belentedor was buzzing with excitement. Years have passed since the Velintenal nation have attacked Belentedor and although the enemy was repelled, it wasn't by much. The attack was unannounced and the army came under the shroud of night not long after Ahrden was knocked out by his father. Many lives were lost that day. The nation mourned for the brave soldiers that were lost that day, but life moved on. The natural order forced everyone to move on. The ever-present possibility that the next day the Nethedral nation will attack them forced everyone to focus on the present rather than the past. This is how life had been in the Valley. This is how life will always be in the Valley.
After the battle Ahrden sunk into a desperate grieving which never had a true end point since. He still went to Berton for classes and visited Felinda after he could get over what she was forced to do. Studying the arcane arts had taken up much if his life from the day of the Choosing but after his parents have passed it was all Ahrden had. He dedicated every bit of his time and attention and eliminated every bit of distraction and obstacle that he has had before. He got better by the day, but nothing was enough for him. He pushed himself to learn more, do more and become more powerful. The opportunity to prove to his father in battle that he wasn't a disappointment was taken from him and this became a special kind of fuel for his divine fire that burned within him.
Ahrden became even less involved in the everyday life of the capital. He was barely seen by others and his parents were no longer there to remind everyone that he even existed. His visits to the school became even less frequent more of a season thing and even then he teleported to where he met the potion-maker. Ahrden bettered himself in the shadow of his books, while people started forgetting about him. This went on uninterrupted for years until the Grand Challenge came for his year and he decided that it was time to remind everyone of his existence by showing a whisper of what he was capable of for the first time ever.
People were talking on the streets about who will impress the strict judges enough to have them accept the contestant into their class and who will fail and bring shame to their family. Rumours were spreading about who tried to talk to, which judge in order to gain an advantage for their child. Even the past few months leading up to this day mainly revolved around the grandiose event today.
As tradition dictated, the names of the contestants were hung out on the front door of the City Hall in the order that they were going to be called. Trumpets announced the starting of the event, and afterwards, one student came after the other. There was no telling how fast the queue would go because it depended on how long each contestant would last in the arena. Few cared about this detail because everyone would be watching the whole event, either as a spectator or a contestant. All except Ahrden.
Early in the morning, Ahrden went out to examine the paper with the names on it and was not surprised to find a massive crowd in front of it. Students from his year who were all facing the Grand Challenge today were all there excitedly trying to get a glimpse of the paper. Many participants had their parents with them, and the wealthier ones also brought the private tutors who were just as invested in their apprentices' success as the apprentice himself. All the people were gathered around that single piece of paper, and anyone who could finally get a glimpse of it surely took their time before moving on. These circumstances made the whole process of finding out when you came very long and tedious.
Ahrden came here alone and would be alone during the Grand Challenge as well. His teacher Berton would've been a possible attendant who would surely be on his side, but he lost his older brother during the Grand Challenge back in the days. It was an honest accident, but one that would alter Berton's life forever. It made him abandon the class of hunter that he was pursuing at the time and instead became a scholar. Afterwards, he had not gone to a single Grand Challenge; not for his own and definitely not for any other, so Ahrden was quite certain that he wasn't going to come to his either.
Felinda was another person Ahrden would have wanted to be there to see what he could do, and she probably would've come, but she had gone away a few days ago to gather a scarce flower that only bloomed in these few days of the year. Ahrden could see the sorrow in her eyes when she told him about this and how she unquestionably would have come had there been anything less important.
Nonetheless, the only two people Ahrden truly would have wanted to be there above anyone else were his parents. This would have been the best opportunity to make them proud, to make them see that he had not wasted all these years. The inability to make them understand that the class he chose was a worthy one was what distraught Ahrden the most.
The duel he had with his father was the closest he got to show him what he was capable of, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. He had so many other things he wanted him to see, so many topics he wanted to talk to him about, which he couldn't while William lived because he never regarded his son worthy of such topics. Nothing could change any of that now, which was the worst in all of it.
Sophie of course, was going to be there, but as a participant and on top of that, the only thing that she didn't like about Ahrden was the one thing that would be displayed today, so Ahrden doubted that he would receive any encouragement from her.
Standing on the edge of the crowd, Ahrden was thinking about ways to learn when he would come that didn't involve him fighting his way to the door with the paper or using his magic in front of everyone when the solution presented itself.
Deren, the warrior Ahrden fought all those years ago, who had become the prodigy everyone hoped he would be, had made it to the door, and after pushing everyone aside, he alone was reading the paper now. His friends on both sides were making sure that no one else could get close while he was at the paper when Deren threw his head back and laughed so hard that everyone stopped for a second and turned towards him.
'Ahrden is on the page too...' he laughed again, with others joining in. 'And he is right after me! I can't wait to see how he fails the Grand Challenge, the same way he failed his parents too.'
The laughing spread through the crowd again, lasting longer than Ahrden would have expected it to because, besides the other students in his year, the parents and others present joined in as well. He clenched both of his fists and called the arcane forces to him. With arcane surging through him he opened his eyes and looked around; he saw weak puppets everywhere laughing at the worst thing that ever happened to him. Killing them would be child's play. It would be right. Maybe he wouldn't be able to get everyone before they scattered away, but he could get most and that would be enough.
Gritting his teeth, Ahrden stopped himself from doing anything foolish. Instead, he concentrated on a spell he knew would help him now, while restraining himself from casting anything else. Deren wasn't close, but the spell was an easy one and aiming it was more like concentrating on the target rather than actually needing to hit him from afar. While remaining in the shadows of the outer skirts of the square, Ahrden murmured the incantation and followed the required motions with his hands. Not Deren nor anyone else noticed anything when he was done.
Testing the spell, Ahrden could feel the basic biological functions of the young warrior. He could feel that despite how tough he acted, Deren's heart was beating swiftly, and he was perspiring profusely all over his body. Knowing this, Ahrden would know when he would be the next in line and based on that, he would have time to make his way to the arena. Ahrden needed this because he had absolutely no intention to wait for his turn there, surrounded by his classmates who would have mocked him the entire time.
When Ahrden went home, he sat down in his study and went over the spells again that he was planning to use during the Grand Challenge. He meditated, calmed himself and waited for Deren's heart to start pounding faster than ever before. Being the one whom everyone wanted to see in action, Deren was put relatively close to the beginning of the event, after a few warm-up contestants. This didn't surprise Ahrden, nor the fact the organizers would do something as pathetic as putting him next to the best so that the contrast between them would be that much more prominent. Little did they know what he had in store for them.
Ahrden had gone through all of the preparations he wished to do and was now meditating when he felt Deren's already accelerated heart rate spike. Ahrden stood up and felt ready when he teleported. He materialized outside of the arena, knowing that it would be abandoned before it. He walked straight in and went to the area where the contestants were gathered; both those who hadn't had their turn yet and those who were already done. When he opened the creaking, tall door and entered the hall with all of his classmates in it, all heads turned towards him, but only for a second because in the next they were turned back at the fight in the arena.
Looking around, Ahrden saw that everybody brought their best weapons, armour and accessories that would enhance their chances at impressing the judges. He, on the other hand, had nothing with him. Ahrden would have liked to have Duskedge with him, but he wanted to show everyone what he was capable of with only arcane.
After not hearing any sound coming from the arena, Ahrden looked around confused, unsure what was happening. Everyone in the hall was still glued to the windows facing the fighting pit, where too utter silence ruled until a loud voice came booming from somewhere.
'The judges have deemed you worthy Deren, son of Ferdan. You shall pursue the class of warrior, and may you become a master one day.'
The entire arena erupted as one, cheering the most promising student of the year. Moments later, the two-winged heavy door opened, and the proud Deren walked through it with confidence, meeting all who rushed to him to congratulate. Ahrden didn't wish to walk through everyone, so he teleported behind Deren to the other side of the crowd, and started down the tunnel that went under the seats and led into the fighting pit. He walked up to the man standing at the end of it with the paper in hand with all the names on it.
'Ahrden son of William in the class of... Mage?' said the warrior without trying to hide how much he looked down on Ahrden.
'Correct.'
The warrior was surprised by Ahrden's confidence, but he couldn't do much about it.
'Go ahead.'
Ahrden continued walking, and shortly after he passed the sharp line where the shadow of the tunnel ended, he was able to get his very first glance at the inside of the arena. The seats of the stadium were packed all around with the citizens of Belentedor, who were happily cheering for the next contestant until they saw who it was and then the clapping and cheering slowly died down. In front of and above Ahrden was the suite, where the all-important judges sat, who were once the best at their classes and were lucky enough to grow old doing it. They numbered six in total, two for each class, and they were the ones to decide whether the contestant could pursue their class or if they would have to abandon it and learn a profession instead.
In the arena stood three masters, one for each class fully clad in everything they needed. Usually, the master who had the same class as the contestant would come to duel the apprentice, and based on that, the judges would decide the student's future. Ahrden smiled because he knew that no one was prepared for a mage since there was no one he could duel, so he couldn't wait to see how this situation would unfold.
'Next up is Ahrden son of William. He has come to the Grand Challenge in hopes of pursuing the class of mage...'
The one announcing Ahrden fell silent at the end, obviously unsure what to say next.
After the class of the contestant was announced, the name of the master whom they were going to face would be said next, and then the Grand Challenge would begin. In this case, Ahrden had no one to face so things stood still while everyone was waiting for the judges to make sense of this. Ahrden was on the list among the other contestants, but it seemed that nobody expected him to actually show up.
'I can fight them together or one after the other.'
Ahrden's voice carried far in the silence that ruled the arena and was only broken by the quiet murmur of the crowd. After he spoke, even the background chatter died down, and the silence was even more deafening than right before the announcement of Deren's success. Moments passed this way, which seemed hours for everyone there until it was broken by the softest sound of an arrow which the master hunter had released towards Ahrden.
Unable to accept the shame that this boy brought to their sacred event, the master hunter could not wait any longer and took Ahrden up on the offer he made. Since this was the Grand Challenge, the arrow wasn't aimed to kill only to wound, but it mattered little in the case of Ahrden. He was expecting something like this to happen, so he was ready and had ample time to slightly direct the arrow away from him. He didn't move visibly, so the sound of the arrow breaking on the stone wall behind him sent waves of shock through the whole crowd.
'Maybe it would be fair if all of you came at me together,' Ahrden said addressing the masters.
The bellow that escaped the master warrior was nothing short of blood-chilling. He charged at Ahrden with a swiftness that defied his size and the fact that he was fully clad in mail armour.
Ahrden was strong, but he wasn't powerful. He had many years to study the class, but he was only at the beginning of the journey, with still no proper teacher who could guide him. He didn't have Duskedge, and he was facing the best masters of every class that his nation could offer. What he did have was the element of surprise and the lack of knowledge on his opponent's parts about how to fight against someone who wielded arcane. Ahrden wasn't powerful when measured on the arcane scale, but he was against steel now. Against steel he was formidable and also skilful, but above all, he was brilliant.
The warrior was nearing him fast, while the other two masters stood there watching, waiting for what would happen. In all honesty, the warrior had no idea what to expect when he raised his double-handed long sword high above his head to strike down at Ahrden with a blow that would kill anyone if not blocked or evaded. It seemed the warrior didn't care; he trusted Ahrden to do something or else he was going to surely die. Ahrden directed the arcane forces he had been gathering with an arching motion and directed it under the charging warrior, sweeping his leg out from under him. The warrior hit the sand-covered ground hard, mainly because he didn't expect to fall in such a manner and slid all the way to Ahrden's feet.
When the warrior came to a halt, Ahrden pointed his open palms towards him and shot freezing cold toward the seasoned warrior that ate into his very bones in an instant. The warrior wanted to strike at him; instead, he could do nothing but remain on the ground, unable to move or speak and silently shivered as his body went into a shock from the cold. When done, Ahrden stepped over the warrior and started walking towards the master hunter.
The hunter was incapable of believing how easily this kid had dealt with one of their best warriors but recovered as Ahrden was approaching him. He drew an arrow from his quiver and placed it on the string of his bow. When he pulled the string back, he saw his opponent's mouth move and the hand gestures that he did but the hunter didn't actually know what it was for; otherwise, he would have released the arrow sooner.
Severing the drawn bowstring was easy, but finding it through the arcane senses proved a lot more challenging. Ahrden was able to finish the spell just as the hunter was about the release the arrow towards him. The string let out a loud, sharp whipping sound as it was unnaturally cut, and the hunter collapsed in a shrieking cry in the next second. It was not Ahrden's intention, but the tension in the drawn bow whipped the string out and hit the thigh of the hunter so hard that the blood-soaked through his pants before the master hit the ground.
Ahrden had no time to examine the damage he had done to the archer because he felt two small throwing knives fly straight towards him. In the last second, he cast a shield in front of him, stopping the weapons as they embedded into it. Looking beyond it, he saw the rogue charging at him with two short and curved daggers in both hands. Ahrden let the shield down, the throwing knives fell to the ground, and he too started towards the rogue, although his approach was a gentle walk.
Similarly, to the other masters, the rogue was no longer aiming to wound anymore, and Ahrden knew this very well. In that moment, he needed to force himself to think about what Berton always told him; how men feared what they didn't understand, and they sought to destroy what they feared. For that, Ahrden shouldn't punish them by doing what they wished to do to him, because unlike them, he had the power to see his wish through.
When the rogue leapt, Ahrden was ready, and he teleported behind him, which caused shocked screams to erupt among the audience. As embarrassing as it was the master rogue had lost his opponent in an open field, without a clue as to how or where his foe had gone. In desperation, he whirled around, listening to his well-honed instincts, when he finally found Ahrden standing just beyond his reach. Ahrden was hard-pressed on finishing his spell, which the rogue saw and immediately sprang at him from the standing position, but he never reached Ahrden as he slowly came to a stop in the air. The spell was cast, but Ahrden still needed to feed energy into maintaining it. The rogue's eyes opened wide as he kicked and jabbed in the air but could do nothing to get out of his invisible floating prison. He even threw his daggers, but merely after they left his hands, the weapons too stopped and started aimlessly dangling in the air.
The crowd went crazy at seeing the rogue suspended in the air, unable to do anything against the young boy who stood below him with his right hand directed at him.
Being aware of what was happening around him, Ahrden could feel the hunter behind him still struggling to stop the bleeding, and he could see the warrior as he finally managed to get onto his feet. The warrior gripped his sword with both hands and slowly broke into a run as his body was still visibly reluctant to follow his commands. Ahrden channelled more power into the rogue's prison, not to keep it there without his aid but to more efficiently direct it.
When the warrior came close enough, Ahrden used all of the arcane he had summoned and yanked the floating rogue towards the unsuspecting warrior. Both masters have had countless occasions where they crashed into someone else, but still, this unnatural situation created by the arcane energies ensured that this collision was one that neither could react to or lessen the painful impact. The ice-cold, armour-clad, aching body of the warrior was violently displaced by the incoming rogue's, whose light leather armour did little to soften the powerful crash. With loud grunts and surprised cries of pain, the two masters came to an awkward halt on the arena's ground. Both of them wanted nothing more than to jump up and kill the boy, but neither was sure if they could even get up at all.
Ahrden turned towards the judges and saw that four of them were on their feet. From the corner of his eyes, he saw two nurses tending the wound of the hunter, and neither seemed too worried, which was a good sign regarding the hunter's condition. Ahrden walked a few steps closer to the judges and waited for what they had to say, while the spectators could still not get over what had just happened.
The problem was that the judges, too, were as out of their elements as anybody else. Only on scarce occasions did they need to change the master who represented a class due to the injuries they suffered during a duel with one of the contestants. Now two were unable to stand up on their own, and one was unable to stay alive on his own. Ahrden knew that if he waited for the judgment of the judges, it might even go as far as exile, so he instead formed the situation to his own desires.
'You are not adequate to judge what I've done as you do not understand what I've done. I shall pursue the mage class, and may you be on my side when I become a master.'
Before the arena erupted, Ahrden teleported into his study.
'I shouldn't have said the last part,' Ahrden said out loud.