"Are you upset you aren't down there?"

Leander shrugged at Cooper's question. He liked fighting as a group and protecting his friends, but he wasn't too heartbroken about missing the chance at the team tournament. There were only five groups competing, and Laurel said they didn't really get interesting until the higher stages of cultivation.

"Yeah fair enough."

Leander bumped his shoulder into Cooper to toss the question back.

"Hmm? Oh no I'm glad I sat it out. Fighting is more of the entrance fee for cultivation than something I'm eager to do in front of a crowd. You should have heard my brother yesterday. He'd never let me live it down if I lost while he was watching.

He tossed one of the fried cheese nuggets they had found into his mouth. "Plus the whole poisoning my friends thing."

Yeah that was a bit of a bummer for the older boy. Though he had been practicing something with Martin since they returned from the Forest Monarch's domain. Something all of the other initiate's attempts at snooping had thus far failed to discover.

After a particularly large gout of steam, he refocused on the arena. Helene and Gabrielle were winning, but the twins from Devon's sect were making them work for it. With earth aspects that were focusing on armor, they had already taken a few blows that would have defeated most of the other competitors.

The Arena floor was fun to watch as well. Perhaps because of the smaller group of competitors, or perhaps because he didn't want to be bothered, Martin had taken a different approach on his day of hosting. Instead of redoing the mana aspects represented for each fight, Martin opted to have every competitor represented at once.

The result was something that looked extraordinarily fun. Leander was twitching to explore it later. There were waist-high mountains, and trees, winding streams a single pace wide, while on one end, a tiny volcano belched smoke into the air, and on the opposite side of the Arena, a frost was slowly creeping forward. The fighters were like giants rampaging over a miniature world.

Not that he was interested in make-believe games like that anymore. He was a grown-up now. But maybe they could make part of the sect grounds like this all the time.

One of the twins slammed through said mini-mountains and Leander was drawn back into spectating.

The girls worked well together, both were far faster than the armored earth cultivators, able to harass them both with drills of water and fireballs. They had also mastered the art of steam as concealment and a way of forcing caution. Inhaling steam once was enough for most, and where their armor chipped, dangerous burns threatened.

Helene slammed a water lash on the same point she had hit several times already and it was all over. The first twin fell and his brother ceded soon after, recognizing that there was no way to beat the pair two on one.

"Impressive."

Leander shrugged again. It wasn't bad, but he had seen both girls do more during a beast wave.

"I meant the other two. I spoke to them the other night. One is already a decent tailor, not sure where the earth-aspect comes into that, and the other is learning old-school blacksmithing from Devon."

That did change things. For a crafter to be that good in a fight meant that was with their focus split. Leander ran through the different hobbies he had tried and discarded. Maybe he would take that piece of advice Martin had been pushing for years.

Eric and George, who had been sitting on Cooper's other side, went off to retrieve the necessary snacks before the next round. Both had quietly listened to Cooper's commentary for the morning, happily clapping along with the crowds, but Leander knew they wouldn't be hurrying back.

This next fight was one every member of the Eternal Archive had anticipated with equal parts fear and excitement. Esther had even tried to prevent it from moving forward, but in a rare show, Laurel had overruled their cook.

Leander approved of the choice. Flint was a spirit beast, and a strong one. More than anyone in the sect, he needed battle to grow. Especially as tied as he was to Rebecca's Heart of the Wild.

He was one of the few who wasn't worried. Flint had been through battles before and he could handle himself. Even so, he had helped when Rebecca announced they would be making his armor. Sewing tiny leather bracers was a task he was never doing again. Maybe crafting hobbies weren't the best idea for him to explore.

They emerged from the south entrance. Rebecca was in the same gear she had worn the day before, patched up as best she could. It was sturdy and boring, reinforced with leather in a few places. Adventuring clothes, Leander thought of them. He had a few sets himself that he was careful to maintain.

On her shoulders rode Flint, decked out in his own outfit. Leather jerkin, bracers, and greaves, he had refused anything else from Rebecca, including something to attach to his tail.

The crowd's reactions were split. There was lots of murmuring and a few jeers.

"You go little monkey!" came one loud voice from the rich section of the stands.

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"Kill me now," Cooper muttered to his right.

Ignoring them, Leander turned to study Flint's – and Rebecca's – opponents. In a sense it was a perfect matchup. A young woman and her bonded spirit beast. In practice Leander thought it was a bit unlucky for Flint to be compared with the wild dog at the woman's side. But all the better to show his dominance!

The Somorins were almost all nature cultivators, a product of environment and their leader being so aligned. The Eternal Archive was special in how unspecialized its members tended to be.

On the other hand, neither Martin nor Laurel had been able to provide Rebecca much guidance in nurturing her spirit beast. Just the words of long dead members and their stored memories. Something told him Jade Treeborn had some more practical experience to draw from.

"He'll be fine. They both will." It was the first Leander had heard from George all day, but it was exactly right. Being older than the rest of the group came with some advantages, made clear when the sect members surrounding their seats collectively relaxed at his pronouncement. Leander took notes.

Both pairs had reached their starting point. Along with everyone else, he leaned forward. This was it.

The gong sounded, as loud as if it were right behind them. The teams attacked.

Most of the time, Flint found a good vantage point to throw some rocks. Or otherwise he took advantage of openings where he could find them. Leander had assumed he would take the same strategy here.

He was wrong. All eight kilos of Flint charged straight ahead. Maybe the little guy thought he had something to prove. The dog he was fighting welcomed the attack, crouching low.

But Flint wasn't stupid. He waited until the dog lunged and dodged to the side.

Then their bonds entered the fray. It was human v human and beast v beast. Martin would hate that. Group tactics weren't too frequent a lesson, but matching up like that was in his words "for people who'd never been in a real fight". You were supposed to mix up enemies to use your advantages, including numbers if it was possible.

They would all be getting lectured later. Unless it worked. Anything could be forgiven if it worked. Another of Martin's favorite lessons.

The battle was a flurry of limbs, furred and not. Wispy claws lashed out on one side, to be met with a mana shell on the other.

Leander leapt to his feet. Flint had made his move. The dog was fast and mean. But Flint was faster. In a daring maneuver, the lemur let the dog catch up, ducked between its legs and then scrambled onto its back.

A howl rent the air of the Arena. It bucked and raged like a bad-tempered horse to get Flint off its back. But he held on.

More, he kept fighting. His tail wasn't a weapon in the wild. But he had spent years cultivating, same as the rest of them. Mana flooded the limb, empowering as it wrapped around the dog's throat.

Not once did his enemy hesitate. When Flint couldn't be unseated, the dog reared back and fell onto its back with a thud and a crunch Leander swore he heard over the roaring crowd.

Every member of the Archive was silent. They floated in a bubble amidst the cacophony around the rest of the Arena, holding their collective breath.

Then Leander caught movement that had him quaking in relief. Flint's tail was still moving. Gripping Cooper's arm, he began to shake it back and forth and pointed.

"He's still going!" The exclamation jolted the whole section into frantic cheers. As though if they were loud enough, they could send their energy to bolster their lemur friend.

It was the distraction Rebecca needed. Her opponent had ignored the spirit beast fight, assuming that because her dog was bigger, that it would be an easy win. Foolish. When the tenor of the cheering changed, the Somorin turned to see what was going on. One mistake was all it took.

A strong blow to the side, accompanied by an ethereal hoof sent the woman flying.

Martin appeared from nowhere as she crashed to the ground, calling her out as defeated.

Then it was two on one. The dog had wiggled free from Flint's hold, giving them a view of the damage. The lemur was limping away, using the terrain to dodge the slavering jaws behind him. Only the dog's own injuries kept it from catching Flint.

Rebecca arrived and it was quickly over. Battered and bruised, the Eternal Archive was victorious.

She scooped Flint up and gently placed him in his normal perch on his shoulders, from which he raised his tiny fists in the air. Victory.

The crowd went wild, one section even chanting "Flint, Flint, Flint" over and over. Leander felt a bit bad for Rebecca but she was smiling as she hobbled off the field.

"You're up Leander. Gonna take the unarmed combat crown?"

He nodded to Cooper. That was the plan.

In the end he didn't win the unarmed combat. He made it to the top four before he was defeated. Lying on the dirt, he looked up at the sky and willed himself not to tear up. A cultivator accepted defeat with grace, to return stronger next time.

A hand appeared in his vision, and Leander grasped it, getting hauled back to his feet. Pavan's brother – he couldn't remember the name but there were some advantages when you couldn't talk – had been more cunning than Leander expected. The last attack had flattened him, no defenses in place to prevent it.

"Not bad, kid. Another few years and you'll have it."

He nodded with the remaining scraps of his dignity and limped off. At least he was losing to another guild member.

No one spoke for a few moments when he returned to the stands.

"You're like ten years younger than the rest of the finalists," Eric offered, and that broke the dam.

Leander received so many back pats and so much encouragement, it was as though he had actually won. Later on, when they returned to the sect house for dinner, he was brought up to the front with Helene and Gabrielle, who had won the team tournament, to be presented with a special treat from Esther.

It all felt a bit hollow, but he smiled his way through it. They were being kind, building him up, but the truth was that he had lost.

He retreated to his favorite balcony once he could escape the attention. Rocky was there but had learned to ignore visitors as long as they stayed off his half of the ledge. Leander jumped when Laurel appeared beside him and sat down, legs swinging over the edge.

There was a whisper of panic in the back of his mind, which he crushed ruthlessly before it could put out roots. Laurel would never force him to leave because he lost and embarrassed the sect.

"Are you freaking out?"

He couldn't hold back the wince as her words struck, though he carefully rearranged his features and shook his head.

"Yeah, thought so. What do you need? Should I talk about how losing one fight isn't that big a deal? Because it isn't. Or I could tell you times when I've lost in the past? Though there are too many of those to mention so I'd have to think of the best ones. We could talk about how anyone who advances without experiencing setbacks will have a weaker foundation? You tell me."

That did help, a little. But it wasn't really what he needed. Not that he knew exactly what would help get him out of the mood he was in.

"Hmm. Okay, I think I've got it. Look at me."

He turned and made eye contact with the Sectmaster.

"I'm proud of you, Leander. In five years I've seen you grow into a young man with the kind of resilience and character that can conquer anything, and the will to see it done. I am so glad you are a member of my sect, you make all of us better."

Breaking eye contact was impossible. Nice things from Laurel always made him squirm, but this was on another level. He wanted to run and hide in a corner and keep basking in the praise at the same time.

It also worked. Between one shuddering breath and the next, something settled. This was not going to be a defeat that defined him. And he still had the initiate tournament which would resume the next day. His spine straightened, his shoulders pulled back.

"There it is," Laurel said with a smile. "Don't forget to rest, yeah? The healing still takes energy from you, even if it doesn't feel like it." She clapped him on the shoulder and was gone again.

He looked out over the countryside, and up to the stars above. There were whole other worlds out there. Hundreds, thousands, so many that even Laurel wasn't sure. And more were always being found. He would see them all one day, a street kid from Verilia. Not the unarmed champion from his first tournament, but there would be more, better things he would win later.

He moved to the corner and unwrapped the bedroll he had taken to keeping stowed away under a waterproof tarp. While he was here, he may as well get some training in connecting with the air. As was the custom, Rocky waited until Leander was fully tucked in before taking his place curled up on his stomach, asserting his own right to defy expectations.

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