Chapter 3

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The low lying clouds peeled away as his plane began its final approach to the airfield just outside Terras's capital city of Astor. Peering through the window as the plane glided over the old city, Leander could see the crowds that swelled the streets to celebrate their prince's improbable victory.

Ambrus leaned over Mathias Hale to glance through his window. "It's going to take a week to clean up this mess," he grumbled.

"They're just celebrating the young master's victory highness, well worth the effort if you ask me," Mathias said.

Champions were glorified like no other. It was considered an honor to fight for your family and your country in the arena. A notion Leander's father attempted to instill in him from an early age. But Leander didn't see things that way. There was nothing glorious about what he'd just done.

Ambrus scowled at the old man and muttered under his breath. He abhorred the spectacle the clashed had become and if he had his way they would still be held in the same manner as they began a century earlier. The first clashes were held in private and witnessed only by the ruling sovereigns of the Elisian Union. The outcome was reported in the papers the next day but this level of detail didn't satisfy the people. It wasn't before long the contests were broadcast on the radio with highlights shown in the news reels of the movie theatres before a Saturday matinee. These short clips quickly became more popular than the features themselves and as technology progressed so did the people's lust for the clashes. The world's first live television broadcast was a champion clash between William Titanus and Fernand Gramont and ever since that day the contests have consumed the culture. Alexia Varela's clash with Haydar Fadel was watched by over 750 million people across the continent, a new record previously held by Titus's bout with Ballas Cyprian.

If you were to ask most sovereigns in private they would concede they'd created a monster. The sovereigns who met in Osira a century earlier reasoned the decree that a champion must be chosen first from the sovereign's immediate family would lead to less conflict and more compromise. It had the opposite effect. Citizens no longer protest wars, they protest peace. It has become more and more expected for conflicts to be settled through champion clashes than through compromise, with the slightest concession by a sovereign met with criticism and in some cases even civil unrest. It's the commoner's bloodlust combined with the sovereign's quest for supremacy that keeps the clashes a regular occurrence.

Later, after touchdown the motorcade set off to the imperial palace of Whitestone. Leander rode with Eli and Eleanor in the car behind his father and Mathias. The people cheered wildly as the motorcade passed through the stone streets of the ancient city, some held signs but most just waved and shouted. Leander mostly ignored all the fuss and only stared blankly at the adoring crowd. Eli however was far more animated. He had carried on the entire flight about being forced to depart early and his bellyaching continued in the car.

"So, its two hours after midnight and right about now a well formed beauty should be sliding between my sheets but instead I'm here heading back to my room alone," Eli said.

"Eli, I can't hear this anymore," Eleanor said. "If you are that hard up when we get to Whitestone just get in your car and head downtown. I'm sure one of the ladies strutting Trent Boulevard can service your needs."

"I'm not paying for it," Eli said.

"How is that any different than what you normally do?" Eleanor said.

"Uh...because I don't pay girls to sleep with me, they do it willingly."

"Eli, you go out and fetch the commoners and take the ones the other princes don't want...and they only sleep with you because your last name is Thorn," Eleanor said.

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