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Scott stood with Shelby and Drift outside the arena on Mount Olympus. The sky above them shone with colour, the horizon alight with bright orange that melted into purples and pinks at the edges of where it met the blue. He would've said that storm clouds would've been more appropriate, but it seemed that his and Nikos' patrons disagreed, and who was he to question the will of the gods? Even if those gods clearly needed lessons on pathetic fallacy.
Drift was glancing back at the setting sun as they, Shelby, and Scott spoke about who to vote for. He supposed it would be a bad omen for her.
Shelby was facing the high walls around the arena, but that was only because it let Scott and Drift see her face. The blindfold that had covered her eyes since they had all manifested in the underworld was now hidden itself beneath the visor of her helmet. It would've made for a poor costume unless her role was some menacing warrior with what little of her expression it left open to the air, but the slight pull at the corners of her mouth betrayed her worry.
Scott wasn't too nervous himself. His old friend stage fright still frayed at his nerves, but less so when he knew that he probably wouldn't be on the cast list today. He didn't think he'd gotten that far onto anyone's bad side on the first day of the competition. He nodded to the other two, forgetting for a moment that Shelby couldn't see it. "I might just lock that in, then." He said, flexing his palm and willing whatever magic infused the tournament to acknowledge his vote: Pearl and Nobody.
Shelby felt out into the air and pointed at nothing in particular, while Drift plucked the air as if it was the strings of their lyre for their own vote.
As if it had been waiting for them, or more likely they'd just been some of the last to choose who they wanted to send in, images of the faces of the other champions pressed themselves into Scott's mind. Nobody. Pearl. Nikos. It seemed that quite a few people had the same idea that their little group did about who to pick.
There were some that came up less, though. He noted Sausage in there once, sandwiched between two votes for Pearl, and the same for Owen between two for Nikos. Scott's eyes widened as the imprint of his own face flashed by for a moment. Just the once, but that was still enough.
A pressure formed at the small of his back as more phantom faces flashed by. Pearl. Nobody. Nikos. "I saw my face in there," he said. Drift raised an eyebrow at him. "What did you do?"
"I don't know!" The swirl in his mind began to slow. Pearl. Sausage. Nobody. Nikos. Owen. Himself.
The selection was crawling to a halt now. Pearl. Pearl again. Nobody. Nobody. Nikos. Nobody. Nikos.
Scott sighed in relief as Nikos was selected. But ice shot through his veins again as the phantom faces of the other champions pressed into his mind for a second time. "It's going again without him," Scott muttered. Pearl. Sausage. Nikos. Owen. Him. "Wait, there's a chance I go in here. Can I get one of your helmets? Because I gave mine to Pearl."
"Sure." Shelby removed their own and passed it to him. Pearl and Sausage's faces went by. Luckily, when the wearer wasn't already blindfolded, they could still see out of their helmet. Even though Scott felt it was a crime to cover up a face like his, he'd rather that than go in unprotected. He was vain, not a fool.
Owen. Nobody. Pearl. It started to slow again. Pearl. Nikos. Pearl. Pearl again.
He knew the pattern now. Two more and it would be him, but it was so slow it had basically almost stopped.
Pearl's face left his mind, but was soon replaced with another of itself. He would've prayed if Aoelus didn't probably want him down there. But all Pearl's face had to do was stay there.
It was one thing to face a crowd that only wanted a good show. But the gods were expecting a literally heart stopping performance, and anywhere between one to eleven of them wanted him to lose. Actually, that was only the ones who had selected champions. Who knew who else would be watching. Placing bets.
But it was fine. Pearl's face was there in his mind, so it was her going into the arena. Not him. She'd probably even enjoy it. She and Nikos could throw themselves at each other in the arena and leave him out of it.
Her face faded. His own replaced it. "Uh oh."
"Scott!" He couldn't be sure if it was Drift or Shelby's voice in his ears. It could have even been both. But he was gone to fast to tell. One moment he was standing on hard stone, the next there was sand beneath his shoes. High walls surrounded him. The wind was quiet, as if Aeolus was holding his breath.
Nikos stood across from him, his muscle bound form covered in very little armour, but that didn't exactly fill Scott with confidence.
"What did I even do?" Scott yelled up at the champions who were gathering around the sides of the marble balcony around the sandy area of the arena itself, which was in a depression in the centre of its otherwise almost temple like structure.
He could see Drift sprinting down to the balcony from outside, something between concern and terror painted on her face. She was practically dragging Shelby behind her, who almost stumbled with how quickly they were descending the steps, but they pressed themselves against the balcony before Drift could.
A whoop came from the other side of the arena as Nikos strode towards where most of the other champions were standing to watch them. Nobody, Pyro, and Abolish stood on the other side, seeming more subdued than the expectant stares of the others. Nobody seemed particularly relieved about the results.
Nikos gave the others a boisterous laugh as he drew his axe and shield, then turned to face Scott. "I hate to scar your face, Pretty One, but our friends and the gods have decreed it."
Scott had died in front of an audience the first time as well. He wasn't sure if he preferred that this one would know it was happening. He slung his bow out from its holder and bowed for his audience, making sure he was just as visible to both sides of the arena at the same time, even if one was smaller and seemingly less interested. He always found a way to win them around.
He drew his bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver. They were heavier than the prop weapons he was used to, but he'd had a lot of practice with those, and stage fighting had taught him techniques that he hoped would suffice. He cast one last, spiteful look up at the other champions. Whoever had put him in certainly wasn't making it obvious. "Yeah, well, let's put on a show, I guess,"
"My thoughts exactly." Nikos grinned.
Pearl leaned over the balcony with sharp beam painted on her face. "Let him see the darkness!" She shouted over to Nikos. Scott's knuckles went white on his bow. He wouldn't quite have killed for a crowd that enthusiastic while he was alive, but he would've done a lot of things. If only that wasn't the champion who seemed to delight in her, frankly, terrifying abilities cheering for his death.
Owen, who was stood next to her, put a hand on her shoulder and whispered something into her ear for a moment. Pearl's grin faltered, before it was replaced by something quieter that reminded Scott of a panther prowling through tall grass that entirely failed to reassure him.
Something buzzed at the edge of his mind. Favours, gifts from the other champions in the fight. Drift and Shelby had both offered theirs, which he definitely appreciated, but so had someone else. Abolish.
He looked over to the man on the less populated side of the arena, who met his gaze and shrugged. He'd kept all of his powers a secret since they'd all been brought out of the underworld. Scott didn't even know who he was the champion of. Or rather, he hadn't known.
Hephaestus, god of the forge. He supposed that made sense.
Shelby had power over luck and fate, which would be useful, but her coin was both unreliable and just another thing for his busy hands to hold. Drift's healing song and a ability to drain her opponent's strength would be useful, but Scott stopped himself a moment before accepting.
He'd seen Nikos' lightning bolts many times before, and more specifically what they did to the ground where they struck. And although he couldn't really use most of Abolish's powers, there was one that he could. The only one he'd actually shown. His resistance to heat and fire.
He accepted Abolish's favour and readied his bow. The already broad grin on Nikos' face widened further as he hefted his axe in turn.
"Shall we begin?" Nikos crouched lower down to the ground. Scott pulled an arrow back in his bow. "Guess we have to at some point,"
"The gods do not like to be kept waiting." Nikos' chuckle was darker and more subdued than usual after that. Then he charged.
Scott fired, but the sudden panic that filled him at the sight of a man who was about the size of a bear rushing for him made his shot miss the mark.
He scowled as he backed away and fired another, one that should have landed in Nikos' chest above his heart. But instead it thudded into his raised shield. "You will have to do better than that, Pretty One." Nikos kept barreling forward, barely moments away from being close enough to use his axe.
Instead of pulling out another arrow, Scott reached into the small bag at his side and produced a small ball of swirling wind. He dropped it at his feet as Nikos began his first swing.
Fog and howling wind exploded out from it as it struck the ground. Scott leapt back as Nikos' first strike met nothing but the air. "You do not think you can hide from me, do you, Pretty One?" Scott didn't respond as he silently drew another charge of wind and dropped it at his feet as well.
A burst of wind raised him off his feet and tossed him back away from Nikos, billowing beneath him to soften his fall as he landed on the sands far outside the cloud of swirling fog he had created. He raised his bow and nocked another arrow, waiting to catch a glimpse of Nikos through the fog.
The other champions above them oohed and aahed like any good crowd at one of his performances. Most of them were behind him now, Pearl's begrudging admiration for the trick the loudest in his ears, but he could see that Nobody had came closer to the railing to watch his archery more closely.
Abolish was watching him as well, but his eyes seemed trained on the bag of wind at his waist instead of his face. He supposed that it was unfortunately covered at the moment by Shelby's borrowed helmet. But Scott wasn't foolish enough to completely take his eyes off Nikos.
His muscular, tattoo covered back drew close enough to the edge for Scott to see him, and this time his arrow found its home in his shoulder. He didn't really want to aim for where he'd been killed himself.
Nikos whirled around and stumbled out of the fog, wincing. His eyes glittered as they landed on Scott. "So that is what you can do,"
"I'd say I'm a man of many talents myself,"
"Let's see you do it again."
Nikos charged again, his shield raised to block any incoming arrows. Scott drew another wind charge and spun it on his finger before hurling it at Nikos' shield. He shut his eyes preemptively, clearly expecting another cloud. But instead he was flung back by a sudden blast of wind.
Scott scampered further back, nocking another arrow and firing it into Nikos' leg as he tried to regain his footing. "Alright, how many of those things do you have?"
"Enough." He shot another arrow that Nikos just blocked on his shield again.
Nikos dashed for him again, diving aside when Scott hurled another wind charge at him. Ozone filled Scott's nose as Nikos rose back to his feet. The air crackled as a javelin of pure lightning was clenched in his hand where his axe had once been.
Scott hurled another wind charge at his feet, another cloud of almost deafening fog appearing around him, but the telltale boom of thunder never came. "How long does that last, I wonder?" Nikos called.
Scott raised his bow from inside the fog and shot at where the champion of Zeus' voice was coming from. No sound of pain came to say that it had landed. He backed away deeper inside his smokescreen.
"Do I need to come and get you out, Pretty One?" Scott put his bow away and drew his own sword. He would've held a shield as well if he didn't need a free hand to use the charges.
Would Nikos throw the bolt into the fog to try and find him? Maybe, but Scott had already shown he could best Nikos there. But Nikos didn't exactly seem like the waiting type, and Scott didn't want to be caught on the back foot. Except he didn't know nearly enough about Nikos' abilities to really anticipate them. It was like trying to improvise with a scene partner you didn't know, and Scott had always specialised in scripted pieces anyway.
"Alright, then!" Nikos yelled, and even from inside his nearly deafening cloud of fog, Scott could hear thunder start to roll. He wasn't sure if he felt the the pain before or after the white streak of burning light hit him.
What he did know was that a sudden pain, stronger than the stab to the back that had killed him, suddenly filled his every nerve as javelin after javelin of lightning flew through the cloud.
He stumbled back, crying out as hot blood dribbled out of his ringing ears. He could feel the heat of the ground, molten sand only half turned into glass, but he walked through it harmlessly. He didn't even have the wherewithal to really process it, or the bolts that crackled past his head.
A crowd cheered in his ears alongside the residual crashing of the thunder, drowning out all his thoughts.
It was too loud, too overwhelming to have only been ten people. Something inside him told him that surely Drift and Shelby wouldn't have been part of that sound, but it was so overwhelming that he couldn't say. Maybe they'd decided to cut their losses at the pitiful sight before them. It wouldn't have been the first time.
It pressed in on him from all sides. A fresh wave of cheers rang out as he felt his centre of gravity hit the ground. Except the impact was too soft to be stone, and he was still on his feet.
The crowd's cheers formed into words. "Look alive, Pretty One!" Burning pain cut through his free arm. More blood leaked out over his skin. He raised his bow and somehow managed to block the next blow, but Nikos' axe cleaved his weapon in two for it.
He fumbled in his bag and crushed a wind charge in his hand. He flew back, landing softly on his feet. Scott's blurry vision came a little more into focus as Nikos groaned. "Stop doing that!" He flinched as a crack of lightning pierced his still ringing ears, silencing the crowd for a moment. But only for a moment.
The next, the now familiar pain of being struck by lightning lit up his every nerve again. Scott doubled over in pain as he was lifted from the ground and flung back. He rolled through the sand as it turned into red hot liquid that clung harmlessly to his skin.
His saliva had dried up in his mouth, the instinctive tears that should have wet his face being evaporated before they could form. His breath heaved but didn't reach his lungs, the screams that wanted to escape him stifled into wheezes wet with his blood.
Cold metal bit against his neck. "An excellent match, Pretty One. But I think that it is over now." Scott's lips tried to form words, but he was too busy trying to breathe to summon his voice, or even the memory of any of the many plays he'd performed in to take a good line from.
But the wind picked up all the same.
The sand that hadn't been turned into glass rose up from the floor, swirling into a cyclone around him. The pressure of Nikos' sword left his neck as the tornado of sand forced him from the ground.
Scott staggered to his feet in the eye of the whirling sandstorm. His head was ringing, his vision blurry, his grip on the sword at his waist weak, but he was still standing. He could already feel his wounds starting to close. Whatever magic Aeolus had used to make him his champion had also made him more than just a mortal.
So long as the storm held, he could heal. His limbs filled with a familiar buzz from the small moments he got backstage in the middle of his performances. His fingers tightened on his sword. He could do this.
Two flashes of white appeared from inside the sandstorm.
As if a new wind was dragging it forward, a shape pulled through the swirling sand. Nikos soared towards him. His movement through the air was slightly jerky and strange, but as fast as a charging horse. The hurricane that had thrown him around before just slipped off him now.
Before Scott could even raise his blade, Nikos loomed over him again. His eyes were burning a bright white that they had never been before. That was the last thought that went through Scott's mind before he swung.
His sword tore into Scott's throat. A scream tried to drag itself out of his throat, but Nikos had cut through the organs he needed to make sound.
The man and his weapon were hurled in different directions as the glow in Nikos' eyes faded, but it was too late. Scott's blood decorated the sand as he collapsed. Aeolus' divine healing couldn't keep up with everything he was losing. He felt the sturdy weight of Shelby's helmet slip off his head.
He didn't even have the strength to claw at the sand. He dragged his eyes up to the stands as the sandstorm stopped. Now the wind could no longer drown them out, Pearl's cheers stabbed into his ears. Nikos joined her, bellowing out his victory. "Are you not entertained?" Scott pulled his gaze over to where he remembered Drift and Shelby had been standing.
His eyes started to flutter before they reached them. He forced them to stay open just a second longer. He had to find them. He had to see. There. Drift had grabbed onto Shelby's arm as if it was the only thing keeping her standing. For their part, Shelby was looking around slightly, their mouth moving too far away from him to hear what they were saying.
Haze came over the world as the little strength he had left faded. The feeling of sand beneath him ebbed away. But at least some people weren't cheering for his death this time. He let his eyes close as he left the world of the living for a second time.