The Games for Nihon (BOOK THREE)

Chapter 26 - Choosing Champions

The castle and its surroundings were buzzing with whispers and speculations. One would be hard-pressed to find anyone still interested in discussing the oh-so-very-recent overthrow of their former queen or their new rulers who kept claiming that they would only be there in the meantime.

In the meantime to when?

Unimportant.

What was important were the champions that would be representing Epoch at the Games. By the power of proximity, their triumph would be the triumph of every single one of the people of Epoch. Their defeat would be their shame. And later on, the breakdown of the minutiae of the Games would serve as a blueprint for how they and others would see themselves.

Under Mother's guidance, Barâan was holding a meet and greet in the courtyard. Everybody was allowed to come and demonstrate their abilities and thereby try out for the Games. Democratic, Mother had called it. Tedious, had been Barâan's assessment. Still, he was obviously enjoying himself. He had come to recognize that it was a good way for his new subjects to come into contact with him - from a respectful distance.

Mother had tried to instill a sense of decorum into him but in the end, she had settled on making it clear that openly mocking the candidates who fell short was not a conductive tactic to make himself popular. So, Barâan didn't openly jeer those whose nerves or talent deserted them in front of him.

"Very - - - nice," he would say, his eyebrows lifting almost imperceptibly, but only almost. There'd be snickers all around. Barâan didn't participate in them, but neither did he call them out.

Mother sighed. "Next!" she called.

They were assessing the shapeshifters, always a diverting category. So far, there had been the usual suspects of dragons, several-headed people and even attempts at imitating the unique property of a Bayla. None, so far, had won over the crowd with the crucial ingredient: surprise.

A young girl came forward, barely older than a toddler. Before anyone could object or ask why nobody was supervising this child, she transitioned into an old woman as smoothly as a fish swimming through water. Yet, the resemblance was still uncanny, as if the little girl's grandmother had come looking for her.

The wrinkled, white-haired woman moved slowly, each motion taking its toll on her old and brittle bones, yet displaying the kind of dignity that only comes with well-advanced age. She drew herself upright in front of Barâan and Mother, but before her mouth was fully open to croak out her name, she rippled into a teenage girl like going backwards in time, her cheeks fire red with embarrassment and her movements awkwardly trying to make sense of her long and slender limbs. A giggle burst forth from her, and, startled, she held her hand in front of her mouth.

Barâan looked half-bored and half-interested.

"Name?" he said, reaching for a bowl of ever-changing fruit that was hovering in the air next to him. Two servants were nervously creating new ones, outshining the previous ones in shine and juiciness but apparently lacking in taste. Barâan kept spitting them on the floor and discarding the rest after taking one bite. A third servant quickly made the mess disappear, but Sofia was inwardly fuming at his bad behavior. She felt as embarrassed as if he were her own brother, but she couldn't make out from Orì's stony expression if she was feeling the same way.

Sofia, Orì and Ami were standing at a short distance from Mother, Barâan and Master Amaryle, but still close enough for everybody to understand whom they belonged to. Therefore, Sofia felt, Barâan's ill manners seemed to say that each of them was the same way, too. She did not like it, but after she had returned to her friends the day before, she had promised to remain with them, outwardly playing along with Mother's charades while actually trying to support the Masters when it came to it during the games.