His excuse hadn't worked a second time, which meant Cooper watched Leander's rather spectacular upset from his parent's rented box.

"Extraordinary. He's your friend, isn't that so Cooper?"

"Yes, Father."

"Impressive little scamp," Jean muttered around a finger sandwich an enterprising vendor had provided. "What did he do at the end there?"

"I think he screamed."

"What do you mean, dearest?" His mother was as always, in perfect form. Gown and hair more suited to a dressage show in the country than a sporting event in the Arena.

"He's spent years working on a way to project sound. It looked the same as that."

"Why couldn't we hear it then?" asked Philip.

"Laurel sparing us some mercy, I think." He gestured towards where the sectmaster was fiddling with the Arena podium, setting up the next match. "If it was loud enough to knock her off her mountain, it would have been excruciating.

"I see, better safe than sorry."

"Yes, Mother."

A few burning logs appeared in the cardinal directions of the arena, but that was it. Cooper spent the moments before the match started re-explaining the fact that the Arena could be manipulated, but it cost exorbitant amounts of mana for anything besides these smaller set pieces.

He was spared from giving further details as Gabrielle stepped onto the floor, opposite her first opponent. One of the Somorin cultivators who had accompanied Jade in order to compete. Almost all of them had some sort of nature or plant aspect, though his was one Cooper didn't understand. Laurel described it as a feral spirit, which meant nothing to Cooper, and, he suspected, the rest of the audience as well. Perhaps that explained the outfit choice. The young man was stripped to the waist, contrasting every other competitor who had taken the option of wearing more protection, even if no one so far had sported anything that could truly be considered armor.

The gong sound echoed over the stands. Cooper had checked the day before, there was no actual instrument involved, it was just what Laurel decided to use.

Gabrielle leapt into action. As Cooper watched, flame appeared in front of her chest and coalesced into a fireball straight out of his childhood dreams.

Her opponent was approaching at a sprint but Gabrielle held off. Closer, closer, it was smart. Cooper knew the projectiles were dodgable with enough room. For now. Sparring had gotten distinctly more dangerous in recent yeras.

Cooper whipped his head back towards the Somorin, along with the rest of the spectators, when he heard a growl. Smooth skin was gone, replaced by a deep navy pelt. Claws glinted at the ends of his fingers.

He got close enough for Gabrielle to aim her fireball. Then he dodged as though he had known where it would fly. He dodged a second, then a third.

Giving up, Gabrielle's hands burst into flame, just as the beast man arrived.

"Yeah! Kill him!" Jean screamed along with the rest of the crowd, jumping to his feet beside Cooper. His brother's hands grabbed his shoulder and pulled, jerking Cooper to his feet. "Crush him!"

The flurry of blows was hard to follow from so far away. The combatants circled around each other, making the view even worse. Though by his brother's reaction, it was the best entertainment of the season. He doubted the same would be said of his own competition but he preferred not having screamed encouragement while being tested.

His sectmate leapt back, opening up the distance for another fireball. This one landed. A howl ripped from Modson's throat as he batted at his singed fur. The pause was short-lived.

Mana rippled across Modson's form as he dropped onto all fours and leapt forward again. Cooper shuddered, glad once more he decided to sit this tournament out. Fighting monsters was terrifying, fighting humans was worse. Something in between was not something he wanted to think about.

His shoulders tightened as the beastman closed in with Gabrielle, fangs now sticking out of his mouth in a disturbing way, spittle dripping from where his lips couldn't close.

"Stop him!" His voice was lost in the cacophony of the Arena. Cooper stared in horror he couldn't look away from as the monster slammed into Gabrielle.

Then it was over. Cooper's shout had barely faded and the two combatants were meters apart, Laurel helping the beastman to his feet. Though not much of a beastman anymore. His body was no longer furred or clawed. Instead he swayed on his feet, covered in sweat and holding his abdomen in a way that shouted of at least one broken rib.

"Winner, Gabrielle Marchant of the Eternal Archive!"

"Yeah, woohoo!" Jean's cheering hadn't abated for a moment.

Gabrielle waved and took a bow to the crowd, then jogged to her defeated opponent and ducked under his arm, helping him towards the edge of the crowd.

"What did she do, dear? I'm afraid I missed it." His mother was sitting primly on his opposite side, her sons going rabid in the stands not threatening her poise at all.

"Something stupid. Ow!" He rubbed his ear where Jean had flicked him, like they were both still children. "It's a technique Laurel taught us for fighting spirit beasts. But it's an absurd level of dangerous. You basically duck under the front legs, blow to the ribs, roll out before the back legs gore you to death."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Oh my. You would never do something like that, sweetie?"

"Of course not Mom, don't worry."

"Not our sweetie –"

"Shut up, Jean."

"Language, dear."

Cooper wondered if he could sneak over to the sect members in the stands before the next fight.

*********

Rebecca walked out onto the sands and faced Helene, a small wave and a half-hearted smile announcing how she felt about the situation. This was supposed to be their triumph as a sect, and now one of them would be knocked out in the first round. Helene's answering smile was serene, not that anything ever really phased their quietest friend.

She rolled her shoulders and attempted to shrug off the disappointment. There would be other tournaments. This was supposed to be a fun way to get to know people. It's just that Rebecca also really wanted to win.

Laurel's introductions were getting more outrageous as the day wore on, but Rebecca couldn't concentrate on what her sectmaster would come up with for her own. Instead she focused inside. The raging energy that was always itching for a way out. Usually she kept it banked. In order to be comfortable among the masses of people in Verilia, without lashing out, she needed control.

It was time to let go.

Their fight would be on an island, sort of. A thin band of water and plants wrapped around the Arena. Cooper had done some research on how it actually worked, but the plants were one hundred percent real. But they also wouldn't exist anymore after the fight. Somehow. From her senses, she could tell there were even animals prowling through the thin strip of false jungle. Though those were manifestations of mana, and not real at all.

As Laurel wrapped up, she prodded her bond to Flint. It had become a source of comfort and strength over the years, and this was no different. He knew she was fighting and had every confidence she would win.

Rebecca basked in the feeling. As she always did on an adventure, she reminded herself that if Flint could abandon his home and everything he knew to leave the jungle with her, she could do this.

The gong sounded. She would have to ask where it was. Rebecca let her cultivation run wild.

Sparring against Helene was a nightmare. Fighting for stakes was worse. Water rushed out of the edges of the Arena and towards Rebecca. From past experience, waiting was a recipe for loss.

Rebecca cycled mana through her arms and raised them to block the whips that tried to intercept her. Thin lines bloomed into shallow wounds but she had closed in to where Helene had started. Which would have been helpful if the slippery water cultivator was still there.

With a low curse, she spun around, taking yet another lash. This one slipped past her guard to lance across her cheek. Rebecca knew she was on a timer. If Laurel deemed her wounds to count as fatal, or the blood loss to got too terrible, she would be declared the loser no matter what. She was not going to be a loser today.

Closing with a cultivator that worked at a distance was a fool's errand. Rebecca stretched out her hand and her mana. Her control this far away was wavering, but it would do. She was rolling the dice on what would come, but the risk was worth it.

Three claws as long as her forearm manifested in front of Helene. It took all her gathered water to block the blow, and Rebecca saw her stagger.

That pause was all she needed to finally get inside Helene's guard and launch a flurry of attacks. Another wild manifestation would have been perfect if she could do more than one in a row. Or if she could control what came out. Even if she managed the technique, there was every chance it would be a tiny fin of a kopi fish, or the wing of a sparrow. Useful in their own way but not for doing damage. Instead she bent her cultivation towards self-empowerment. The stamina of a wild animal on the hunt. All the while she pushed Helene back towards the plants.

Block, kick, punch. Block again. The loss of fingers on her right hand made half her blows weaker, and the rest more predictable. Helene looked serene, meditative, like the blows, with fist and water were just another morning spar.

Rebecca was anything but calm. Her mana churned through her channels. This was more free than she had felt since she returned from the Forest Monarch.

At the thought, something shifted in her spirit, as though it had been waiting for acknowledgment. Like a broken dam, mana rushed from her core, spilling through each meridian in a torrent. Down her arms and legs. Then her hands.

Rebecca screamed as, out of the stumps of her lost fingers, something grew. Helene's steps stuttered in their dance as her senses were jolted by the change. The seed! Rebecca decided not to question it at that moment and capitalized on the distraction.

Hands extended, one now sporting wooden fingers, Rebecca tackled Helene into the shrubbery. Finally. That was one disadvantage of her kind of nature aspect. Plants were hard to move and she wasn't good at making them grow on demand.

But she was excellent at manipulating what was there. The creeping vines responded to her call, looping around Helene's torso and starting to squeeze. Not that the other girl took that without retaliation. She wasn't that competitive but that didn't mean she didn't try.

The vines were close to the water feature, after all. A tidal wave slammed into Rebecca, forcing her to let up on the vines as she struggled instead for open air.

But the water just kept coming.

Her mistake, she realized, was in letting up at first. She could have held her breath long enough to win. Instead she was sopping wet and sputtering while Laurel announced Helene as the victor.

"Good job girls, be proud. That was the best bout so far." The enthusiasm wasn't something Rebecca wanted to take just then. Laurel disagreed, stopping her with a hand to the shoulder. "Don't let this be a sad day, Rebecca. Your cultivation just did something extraordinary. And you more than anyone don't need the prizes. The law of the wild is about earning every scrap you get."

With that not-very-motivational pep talk, Rebecca was released and she trudged out of the Arena floor behind Helene. The other girl was waiting when she got to the tunnel, and offered a tentative smile. Rebecca dug deep and returned it, getting most of the way there. She wasn't a child anymore, she could muster up some enthusiasm for her friends.

"Good fight," Helene offered.

"Not as good as you."

"Eh." She shrugged. "You would have had me at the end there. I just got lucky Laurel decided I could hold my breath longer than you."

"All the better for when you explore the depths out there."

Helene gave a soft snort and started walking again, towards the healing chambers. Rebecca swayed for a moment and followed. Now that her heart rate was coming down, the stinging across her arms, legs, torso, face, and every other part of her body was starting to get to her.

"It will be a long time before I'm ready for that."

"Not that long. Martin said he could breathe underwater at adept. Laurel said it was around the same time for her."

"It's not just about breathing. In here." Helene steered them both into the healing chamber.

Unlike the stands above, which had been mostly unchanged by the infusion of mana into the building, this room was overtly magical. Unadorned white marble, with shifting golden veins covered the low-ceilinged room, chairs and couches strewn about for them to recover on. A few other competitors were still in there, leaning back and letting the magic do its work.

Without discussion, the two of them veered towards a pair of chairs in the corner, where they could avoid bothering anyone. Rebecca's cuts were plentiful, but shallow. Helene was a mass of bruises. But they had gotten off lucky. There had been a few broken bones already that day, burns, some light drowning, and whatever other kinds of damage the initiates could muster up.

"Pressure." Helene continued when they got settled. "It's not just about being able to breathe, you have to make sure your lungs don't collapse. Especially on the way back up. Which means you have to be able to equalize the pressure all around."

Rebecca nodded as the explanation continued, grateful for the other girl in filling the space so she didn't have to ruminate on what had just happened. Her body appreciated the reprieve too. Now that she was settled, Rebecca could feel the mana, pressing at her, asking for entry.

She let it in. The cooling relief was like water across a burn, necessary if not fully pleasant. Then the itching started and Rebecca had to force herself not to squirm.

"Oh that's something alright," Helene interrupted her discussion.

All she could get out was a grunt acknowledgement. Her eyes were forced open at the discomfort, and she looked down at her arms. Before her eyes, wounds that would have taken days or weeks of focused meditation were healing until it looked like they had never even existed.

The feeling crescendoed and Rebecca couldn't keep the small squeak inside. Then it fell back down to manageable levels. With the deepest damage gone, the room started working on her bruises and muscle aches instead.

"What does Laurel want?" she asked Helene.

"What? I don't know. Creating a World Capital, the blood of her enemies? She's a pretty straightforward woman, all things considered."

"No, I mean what does she want that we can give her as a bribe to do all our training where there's a healing room twenty meters away."

"Ha-ouch! Chest muscles not done yet. But yeah I agree, whatever you come up with I'm in."

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