Of Stardust and Wishes (A Wish Rewrite)

Chapter 5 - The Death of a Dream

Asha could have fainted in that moment. The scene around her seemed to be unfolding in slow motion. Far away figures cheered and clapped, the roar of the crowd muffled by her pounding heart. Her eyes flew around the towering walls above, banners danced, their colors blurring. Then, somewhere between the encroaching pain and subsiding adrenaline, the realization hit. She had won. Doubters be damned, she had WON! A laugh bubbled in her chest and exploded from her lips. Shrill and manic, it mixed in with the thunderous noises around her. She cupped her hands over her mouth to preserve some decorum, but the laughter continued. Cool waves of relief were washing over her, and she felt that she could finally breathe.

She was startled out of her fit by the rough hands of the guards. The men grabbed her by the under arm and hoisted her up. Her teeth slammed together as her back was pulled up into a standing position.

"Bow to your king," a gruff voice barked in her ear.

The girl's breath was shallow. Dropping into a deep bow, her muscles screamed. She held that position for an agonizing ten seconds before the knights pulled her back up and marched her out of the arena.

Dahlia met Asha at the champion's gate. Her eyes were misty.

"Oh Asha!" she cried, dropping her crutch and lunging toward her friend. Her short arms wrapped around the magician's waist like a vise.

"Dah-lia," Asha gasped, "it...hurts."

"Oh!" the short girl stumbled back, her arms wheeling as she realized her crutch was on the floor.

"Whoa!" Asha jumped forward and grabbed hold of her friend's outstretched hand.

"T-Thank you!"

"No problem," the magician winced, "Let's move over here. I can pick it up." They edged over to the nearby stone column and Dahlia placed her shaking hands against it. Asha bent down, only using her knees, to retrieve the fallen crutch. Dahlia tucked it back under her arm without much trouble.

With her balance restored the baker went back to her tittering, "We're going to see so much of each other now! I can't wait! You were brilliant Asha, absolutely brilliant!" her voice dropped to a whisper, "I mean, if I hadn't known you were using props, I wouldn't have been able to tell! Excellent, excellent performance!"

"Yeah," the girl's veins turned cold. That's right, she did have to use props, didn't she? In her exuberance she had forgotten that she'd had to stack the deck in her favor. Asha pulled at one of her sand-covered braids, running her hand over it again and again. A tournament was one thing, but she'd be under the king's watchful eye for the days, months, and years it took her to learn. There would be questions...suspicions...

She was going to be sick.

"We should probably go find your mother; I know she'll be just as excit-"

The horns sounded again. Their tune played in long notes followed by three short trills. The crowd hushed, excited whispers filtering through the still air. Then a parade emerged from the other side of the amphitheater. Chestnut horses filed out, prancing with pride as their riders sat astride, broad-chested and clad in armor. Each champion held a flag depicting his family crest. The intricate designs flapped despite the stagnate air as the knights willed their steeds to circle the arena. Bringing up the rear was a particularly large knight, whose horse was not very happy to be carrying him.

"It's Simon!" Dahlia whooped.

"Look at him," Asha mused, still cradling her self-doubt. She watched the portly knight line up with his fellow brethren. His crest flapped behind him, a fish against a backdrop of blue, vignetted in the berry-laden leaves of the hawthorn.