Windstormugly and The Jest's Contributions
In dawn, the light of morning reached the city from across the sea, rays slowly creeping across the piers of Leviathan Port, its bay guarded by two enormous forts whose guns were always pointed outwards as a gesture of strength. With its vast rows of warehouses and machinery to move the shipments of trade, the port alone could be a city worthy of its name.
Just beyond the port, the spires of Ishtar School glow in the morning's light, close to the prison and morgues of the city. Across the city, almost equidistant and angled from its center, the towers of Marduk Academy mirror the splendor of its sister establishment, orphanages and artificing workshops around. Both of them are reputable bastions of learning in the city of magic and the rest of the world, While a multitude of smaller schools litter Iliad, those two stand out even beyond their headmasters.
The city of magic stands alone, though its historic isolation is less felt by its populace today. But walls still surround it on three sides, towards the west, their continuous enemy, the Hermannreich is still active even as the hills and forests to the north and south provide some measure of additional protection.
While there is a countryside outside the walls, with farms and livestock which feed Iliad City, a lack of other civilization gives the impression that it is alone in the world.
Iliad is like the rest of the world in miniature, one moment, it seems you are in an urban city center with apartments stacked in neat skyscrapers rising towards the sky, then one goes to the area next to it and observes single floor houses with backyard gardens arrayed in cul de sacs secluded by groves of trees. Magic can be felt all around for those who know to see, lifetimes spent pouring wonders into the city. Sadly magic does little to stem the ills of segregation and discrimination, your heritage and political influence, be it through money, might or magic a leap ahead of hard work even here.
Throughout the old city of magic, reaching higher and higher towards the sky the further into its center you travel, a few things nevertheless differ from the world at large. The heritage of the illuminated poet has shaped the path of his descendants and their fellow citizens, the pursuit of artistry, be it from magical craft or other expressions, Iliad is a beautiful city to wander.
Likewise, the philosophical and theological implications of knowing that there is a God who has actively gifted the world shape the people. Both countless places of worship towards the One Deity, and places of learning to understand the world are never more than a street away.
Like the city nation it is, Illiad has those that rule it, and where else would the power in a magical city built by and for descendants be but in the old houses of Illuminated Blood, akin to nobles. While commerce and world politics has seen new houses rise and fall, those with magic will endure. Estates appearing more often closer to the heart of Illiad. One who lives in the city will learn to know them on sight, by name and repute.
Those with bloodlines connected to the Illuminated Poet himself - The houses of Enlightened Blood - As if they are rewarded for carrying the burden they inherited, stands at the top of the city's hierarchy and are treated like the closest thing to Royalty. Though only a few hold official positions of power, most descendants, otherwise known as the Enlightened, take an indirect approach to being at the top of the food chain, such as owning essential businesses or advising those with official power from the shadows.
Like most on top, these particularly powerful families among the Enlightened tend to ensure their stay at the proverbial summit by kicking off anyone else closing in on it, making them both praised for their nobility, and scorned because of it.
It is still a rarity even among those with magic to see someone not of Enlightened Blood take a position of power, and such is done with skill and cunning, and not always through playing by the rules.
Which brings us again to the two academies: The Marduk Academy for the Mystic Arts, its headmaster an Enlightened one, Gilgamesha Ascot, and The Ishtar School for Creative Minds, heading a non-enlightened magic user known simply as "Nergal".
Like the stark contrast between the metropolis and its countryside, the cityscape and the suburbia, or the magically gifted and the non-magical in nature, the differences between these two schools is of night and day, almost literally.
For a myriad of reasons, reasons of ideology, of class and status, of the magic either school teaches. And by their differing view on the looming threats that the world places upon them. From enemies like the Hermannreich, to shadowy urban legends of those looking to slaughter and kill the Enlightened for the very thing they are burdened with. These two schools could not be more at odds with each other than they are. Theirs is a great rivalry of Light and Darkness, of the orderly and imperial, the chaotic and free. One that has lasted for many years and only now, with looming threats on the horizon has finally begun to reach a boiling point.
---
To the northernmost section of the city, as if above the rivalry of the two academies to the east and west, lay the one place where they could settle their score. An oval-shaped coliseum of marble, supported by a foundation of ebony and ivory, laced with strands of silver which wrapped around the whole stadium and unraveled near the top, looking like a vortex of silver from a bird's eye view. The crowds of hundreds of thousands cheer as they sit around the massive interior, ground level where its many events take place being 62 acres in size. Too large to see from the back rows? Giant monitors are planted above the audience section in the four cardinal directions to assist with this. Those events that happen within this stadium are usually so grand, that even those in the very back can see some of it more often than not.
Today was no exception.
The audience was restless as the sound of their voices, their cheers, and their yells came in endless waves from all directions around the stadium both inside and out, not a hint of silence to be had unless you're either within the stadium's catacombs or the commentator's box atop the north side of the stadium, and even in those you can hear the excitement as a ghostly echo.
On the ground level, many were gathered all over the area, and while there did seem to be some mingling between them, the divide was very clear. Staring at it from the north side looking south, where the horizontal length of this stadium was more clear than the vertical width, there were three very clear groups that filled the area:
To the east - the left side from this perspective - were a group of people dressed in uniforms of whites, cyans, yellows, and magentas, - bright colors to represent the school of Marduk.
To the west - the right side from this perspective - were a group of people dressed in uniforms of blacks, reds, greens, and darker shades of blue - colors to represent the school of Ishtar.
In the middle area of the field, dressed in myriads of colors with no particular uniform, were the staff of the stadium setting things up for the opening ceremony, while simultaneously making sure the bulk of the other two didn't come to blows with each other. There were of course some mingling of the three groups making the proverbial border between them blur, but so far, no hostility was in sight, any potential fights before hand, the staff were breaking up before it could be noticed, with magic if need be.
Eventually a giant platform was set up at the dead center of the arena, a golden rectangle in the form of a pedestal with three golden pillars upon it, two of equal to the left and right, with two small golden bowls atop them, and larger pillar in the center with a much larger golden bowl atop it. The students of Ishtar and Marduk were instructed - and in some cases forced - to return their respective areas of seats on opposite sides of the stadium as the staff dispersed, their job now finished.
The crowd all around began to grow loud in unison, for they knew what this meant. from the top of the twisted spires of the stadium shot out blasts of fireworks of a myriad of different colors across the sky, and loud orchestral music began to play as a multitude of dancers from both sides of the field moved to the stadium's field. The western group of dancers were motionless in the dark, as if waiting, but the eastern dancers began their dance to the melody of the orchestra, reminiscent of ballet, as if to represent a sense of nobility and order as a certain female singer of Marduk sang. Any civilian of Illiad would immediately recognize the lyrics, for they are the overture of light within the Epic of Making, the Motto of Marduk.
"In the white light, a hand reaches through.
A double-edged blade breaks your heart in two.
Waking dreams fade away,
Embrace the brand new day.
Sing with me a song of Birthrights and Love,
The light scatters to the sky above.
Dawn breaks through the gloom, white as a bone.
Lost in thoughts, all alone."
As the song played and the dancers danced, a single student carrying a torch lit by her own magic walked to the eastern-most bowl, placing the torch inside the container and watching as the flames filled it up, with sparks lighting up the underside and lighting a trail of gasoline towards the center bowl, whose eastern half lit up in flames.
As the instrumentals reached their end, and the dancers called themselves back to a stand still, the beating of bongo drums could be heard to replace the violins, and in place of a orchestral song of orderly sophistication was a song of chaotic passion and heat as the dancers on the west side began to move now. If Marduk's dancers were more akin to ballet, Ishtar was exotic to symbolize fluidity and freedom, as if to become the fire to oppose Marduk's water.
Like Marduk, this was a song that also had its own lyrics, and like Marduk, they would be easily recognized, sung by not just any singer, but one of its more famous idols.
The Bolero of Darkness within the Epic of Making, the Motto of Ishtar.
"Embrace the Dark, you call a home.
Gaze upon an empty white throne.
A legacy of lies, a familiar disguise.
Sing with me a song of Conquest and fate.
The black pillar cracks beneath its weight.
Night breaks through the day, hard as a stone.
Lost in thoughts, all alone."
Near the end of the song a fire-using student ran over towards the bowl, performing front flips before diving headfirst into the Ishtar bowl, combusting its interior as the torch did in Marduk's. The boy stood in the bowl, and raised up both fists, both as a sign of victory and a sign of being ok, despite being in the middle of an inferno.
"Show off..." some of the audience and most of the Marduk students whispered, while most others cheered him on.
As he hopped out of the bowl, the dance and song reaching its end, the Ishtar flame made its way to the center bowl and merged with Marduk flames, the fusion exploding into a flash of multi-colored lights shooting up into the sky.
The crowds cheered, the ceremony was over, and the rainbow flames of the center bowl marked the beginning… Of the Iliad Grand Flyte Games.
Up in the Skybox, a man dressed up in an ironed black suit, a rather large chin to complement the slick brown hair on his head, sat down and flipped a switch on the computer, generating a live video and audio stream for tv and radio broadcasts across the world.
"We now turn you to my partner at Ringside, Jordan Solomon, as the Opening Ceremony concludes, and the first roll of the slot of games is about to be underway. How's it lookin down there, Sol?" Al asked. The TV would then switch scenes from the skybox to the ground floor of the arena as a well-built middle-aged man in a Teal suit, with brown slick back hair in contrast to a rather bushy beard and blue eyes looks towards the camera nervously, as people in the background behind him started to fight once again, albeit in smaller quantities in comparison.
"Well let's just say I wish I was in there with you two, Al. The opening ceremony just ended and a couple of hot heads from the two schools decided to try and fight each other again. The staff are breaking up the fighting once more and things are calming down for the roll is about to begin, but it's definitely lookin' like both schools are out for each other's blood. ...It looks like the slots for the first game is about to begin." Jordan "Sol" Solomon said in response as he looked behind him during the pause. The Camera turns over to a giant monitor showing a 4-part wheel. The four parts have four marks on it: a wing for Flight, a sun for Light, a moon for Night, and a pen for Write. Atop the wheel is an arrow that seemed to serve as both the stopper for the wheel and the winning area. The screen shows the number 5 and starts counting down, and as it did, the cheering crowd began to countdown along with it. When the countdown ended, the wheel began to spin, the arrow on top eventually causing it to slow down to a stop.
And the arrow points to....
The Pen.
The audience cheered loudly as the pen came off the wheel and became a giant logo that covered the screen.
"There you have it, folks, the The first competition of this year's Grand Flyte Games will be the Write. The crowd seems to be really excited, as are the students seemingly getting fired up for the Orpheus Duel. The Staff is now prepping up, I'm being told the competition will be ready to begin in about 30 minutes. Back to you, Al."
"Thanks Sol, and good luck out there you trooper, I do not envy you one bit." Al said as the camera turns to him, smiling and containing a giggle at the potential harm that could befall his partner.
"I do though, I'd like to go down there and kick some [BEEP]-ing Ishtar [BEEP]." Madame said with a smile of her own, cracking her knuckles as she did, once again making Al give her a slight look of composed worry.
"*Ahem* You heard it here folks. The Write competition will begin in about 30 minutes, and of course we here in Illiad City Arcanum will be broadcasting the whole thing as it happens. For now though, we'll be right back after these messages." Al said. The camera fades out of the sky box to a view of the stadium itself for about 5 seconds, a footer at the bottom of the screen showing the Pen logo and the word "Write" before it fades to black and cuts to commercials.
Letter Bee’s Portion
Participate in the Competition or I cut off Jacob from the Inheritance, William remembered his mother saying as a last-ditch attempt to have him join Marduk’s side in the Tournament. It worked - Gilgamesha Ascot had counted on her son’s desire to reconcile their family in order to get him to fight for her cause one last time before William picked his own path - Not that William was going to wait for her assent.
He looked at the bandmates he had for the ‘Write’ Competition - Nika, Lizzie, the two Magical Girls and perhaps one other student - who were outnumbered by the Ishtar students who had chosen to participate on the opposing side. A sigh, Wiliam had expected to be the underdog before, but as his own faction, not a part of his mother’s. Didn’t she see how her part in the rivalry between Ishtar and Marduk was leeching off promising students from the latter?
Then the boy grit his teeth, and said to Nika and Lizzie, “We are going to need to use a loophole in the rules - Nothing says that all of us have to sing - The rest of us can work on setting the stage and increasing our song quality. I dislike how mother insists on ‘cheating without actually breaking the rules’, and I’ll be open with it - She’s become corrupted by vengeance.”
A pause, as he handed a packet of acorns and a bar of high-calorie food to Lizzie and said, “I need you to grow oak trees around our stage to focus the sound from both bands to the audience - Call it sportsmanship.” Then to Nika, “As for you, I need you to ward off our opponents’ own attempts to prevent our song from being heard - I know Nergal told them to cheat.” Then to the two Darvon sisters, William handed them a note saying, “Here are the lyrics of the song I want you to sing. Use any tone and melody you want as long as you leave the words themselves unaltered.”
He then turned to the one remaining student, assuming she had not just vanished, “As for you, I need someone to guard me while I observe, copy, and forge into an item every enchantment that our allies and opponents are using. But if you don’t want to do that, I can’t fault you - After all, I have ulterior motives..."
In dawn, the light of morning reached the city from across the sea, rays slowly creeping across the piers of Leviathan Port, its bay guarded by two enormous forts whose guns were always pointed outwards as a gesture of strength. With its vast rows of warehouses and machinery to move the shipments of trade, the port alone could be a city worthy of its name.
Just beyond the port, the spires of Ishtar School glow in the morning's light, close to the prison and morgues of the city. Across the city, almost equidistant and angled from its center, the towers of Marduk Academy mirror the splendor of its sister establishment, orphanages and artificing workshops around. Both of them are reputable bastions of learning in the city of magic and the rest of the world, While a multitude of smaller schools litter Iliad, those two stand out even beyond their headmasters.
The city of magic stands alone, though its historic isolation is less felt by its populace today. But walls still surround it on three sides, towards the west, their continuous enemy, the Hermannreich is still active even as the hills and forests to the north and south provide some measure of additional protection.
While there is a countryside outside the walls, with farms and livestock which feed Iliad City, a lack of other civilization gives the impression that it is alone in the world.
Iliad is like the rest of the world in miniature, one moment, it seems you are in an urban city center with apartments stacked in neat skyscrapers rising towards the sky, then one goes to the area next to it and observes single floor houses with backyard gardens arrayed in cul de sacs secluded by groves of trees. Magic can be felt all around for those who know to see, lifetimes spent pouring wonders into the city. Sadly magic does little to stem the ills of segregation and discrimination, your heritage and political influence, be it through money, might or magic a leap ahead of hard work even here.
Throughout the old city of magic, reaching higher and higher towards the sky the further into its center you travel, a few things nevertheless differ from the world at large. The heritage of the illuminated poet has shaped the path of his descendants and their fellow citizens, the pursuit of artistry, be it from magical craft or other expressions, Iliad is a beautiful city to wander.
Likewise, the philosophical and theological implications of knowing that there is a God who has actively gifted the world shape the people. Both countless places of worship towards the One Deity, and places of learning to understand the world are never more than a street away.
Like the city nation it is, Illiad has those that rule it, and where else would the power in a magical city built by and for descendants be but in the old houses of Illuminated Blood, akin to nobles. While commerce and world politics has seen new houses rise and fall, those with magic will endure. Estates appearing more often closer to the heart of Illiad. One who lives in the city will learn to know them on sight, by name and repute.
Those with bloodlines connected to the Illuminated Poet himself - The houses of Enlightened Blood - As if they are rewarded for carrying the burden they inherited, stands at the top of the city's hierarchy and are treated like the closest thing to Royalty. Though only a few hold official positions of power, most descendants, otherwise known as the Enlightened, take an indirect approach to being at the top of the food chain, such as owning essential businesses or advising those with official power from the shadows.
Like most on top, these particularly powerful families among the Enlightened tend to ensure their stay at the proverbial summit by kicking off anyone else closing in on it, making them both praised for their nobility, and scorned because of it.
It is still a rarity even among those with magic to see someone not of Enlightened Blood take a position of power, and such is done with skill and cunning, and not always through playing by the rules.
Which brings us again to the two academies: The Marduk Academy for the Mystic Arts, its headmaster an Enlightened one, Gilgamesha Ascot, and The Ishtar School for Creative Minds, heading a non-enlightened magic user known simply as "Nergal".
Like the stark contrast between the metropolis and its countryside, the cityscape and the suburbia, or the magically gifted and the non-magical in nature, the differences between these two schools is of night and day, almost literally.
For a myriad of reasons, reasons of ideology, of class and status, of the magic either school teaches. And by their differing view on the looming threats that the world places upon them. From enemies like the Hermannreich, to shadowy urban legends of those looking to slaughter and kill the Enlightened for the very thing they are burdened with. These two schools could not be more at odds with each other than they are. Theirs is a great rivalry of Light and Darkness, of the orderly and imperial, the chaotic and free. One that has lasted for many years and only now, with looming threats on the horizon has finally begun to reach a boiling point.
---
To the northernmost section of the city, as if above the rivalry of the two academies to the east and west, lay the one place where they could settle their score. An oval-shaped coliseum of marble, supported by a foundation of ebony and ivory, laced with strands of silver which wrapped around the whole stadium and unraveled near the top, looking like a vortex of silver from a bird's eye view. The crowds of hundreds of thousands cheer as they sit around the massive interior, ground level where its many events take place being 62 acres in size. Too large to see from the back rows? Giant monitors are planted above the audience section in the four cardinal directions to assist with this. Those events that happen within this stadium are usually so grand, that even those in the very back can see some of it more often than not.
Today was no exception.
The audience was restless as the sound of their voices, their cheers, and their yells came in endless waves from all directions around the stadium both inside and out, not a hint of silence to be had unless you're either within the stadium's catacombs or the commentator's box atop the north side of the stadium, and even in those you can hear the excitement as a ghostly echo.
On the ground level, many were gathered all over the area, and while there did seem to be some mingling between them, the divide was very clear. Staring at it from the north side looking south, where the horizontal length of this stadium was more clear than the vertical width, there were three very clear groups that filled the area:
To the east - the left side from this perspective - were a group of people dressed in uniforms of whites, cyans, yellows, and magentas, - bright colors to represent the school of Marduk.
To the west - the right side from this perspective - were a group of people dressed in uniforms of blacks, reds, greens, and darker shades of blue - colors to represent the school of Ishtar.
In the middle area of the field, dressed in myriads of colors with no particular uniform, were the staff of the stadium setting things up for the opening ceremony, while simultaneously making sure the bulk of the other two didn't come to blows with each other. There were of course some mingling of the three groups making the proverbial border between them blur, but so far, no hostility was in sight, any potential fights before hand, the staff were breaking up before it could be noticed, with magic if need be.
Eventually a giant platform was set up at the dead center of the arena, a golden rectangle in the form of a pedestal with three golden pillars upon it, two of equal to the left and right, with two small golden bowls atop them, and larger pillar in the center with a much larger golden bowl atop it. The students of Ishtar and Marduk were instructed - and in some cases forced - to return their respective areas of seats on opposite sides of the stadium as the staff dispersed, their job now finished.
The crowd all around began to grow loud in unison, for they knew what this meant. from the top of the twisted spires of the stadium shot out blasts of fireworks of a myriad of different colors across the sky, and loud orchestral music began to play as a multitude of dancers from both sides of the field moved to the stadium's field. The western group of dancers were motionless in the dark, as if waiting, but the eastern dancers began their dance to the melody of the orchestra, reminiscent of ballet, as if to represent a sense of nobility and order as a certain female singer of Marduk sang. Any civilian of Illiad would immediately recognize the lyrics, for they are the overture of light within the Epic of Making, the Motto of Marduk.
"In the white light, a hand reaches through.
A double-edged blade breaks your heart in two.
Waking dreams fade away,
Embrace the brand new day.
Sing with me a song of Birthrights and Love,
The light scatters to the sky above.
Dawn breaks through the gloom, white as a bone.
Lost in thoughts, all alone."
As the song played and the dancers danced, a single student carrying a torch lit by her own magic walked to the eastern-most bowl, placing the torch inside the container and watching as the flames filled it up, with sparks lighting up the underside and lighting a trail of gasoline towards the center bowl, whose eastern half lit up in flames.
As the instrumentals reached their end, and the dancers called themselves back to a stand still, the beating of bongo drums could be heard to replace the violins, and in place of a orchestral song of orderly sophistication was a song of chaotic passion and heat as the dancers on the west side began to move now. If Marduk's dancers were more akin to ballet, Ishtar was exotic to symbolize fluidity and freedom, as if to become the fire to oppose Marduk's water.
Like Marduk, this was a song that also had its own lyrics, and like Marduk, they would be easily recognized, sung by not just any singer, but one of its more famous idols.
The Bolero of Darkness within the Epic of Making, the Motto of Ishtar.
"Embrace the Dark, you call a home.
Gaze upon an empty white throne.
A legacy of lies, a familiar disguise.
Sing with me a song of Conquest and fate.
The black pillar cracks beneath its weight.
Night breaks through the day, hard as a stone.
Lost in thoughts, all alone."
Near the end of the song a fire-using student ran over towards the bowl, performing front flips before diving headfirst into the Ishtar bowl, combusting its interior as the torch did in Marduk's. The boy stood in the bowl, and raised up both fists, both as a sign of victory and a sign of being ok, despite being in the middle of an inferno.
"Show off..." some of the audience and most of the Marduk students whispered, while most others cheered him on.
As he hopped out of the bowl, the dance and song reaching its end, the Ishtar flame made its way to the center bowl and merged with Marduk flames, the fusion exploding into a flash of multi-colored lights shooting up into the sky.
The crowds cheered, the ceremony was over, and the rainbow flames of the center bowl marked the beginning… Of the Iliad Grand Flyte Games.
Up in the Skybox, a man dressed up in an ironed black suit, a rather large chin to complement the slick brown hair on his head, sat down and flipped a switch on the computer, generating a live video and audio stream for tv and radio broadcasts across the world.
"We now turn you to my partner at Ringside, Jordan Solomon, as the Opening Ceremony concludes, and the first roll of the slot of games is about to be underway. How's it lookin down there, Sol?" Al asked. The TV would then switch scenes from the skybox to the ground floor of the arena as a well-built middle-aged man in a Teal suit, with brown slick back hair in contrast to a rather bushy beard and blue eyes looks towards the camera nervously, as people in the background behind him started to fight once again, albeit in smaller quantities in comparison.
"Well let's just say I wish I was in there with you two, Al. The opening ceremony just ended and a couple of hot heads from the two schools decided to try and fight each other again. The staff are breaking up the fighting once more and things are calming down for the roll is about to begin, but it's definitely lookin' like both schools are out for each other's blood. ...It looks like the slots for the first game is about to begin." Jordan "Sol" Solomon said in response as he looked behind him during the pause. The Camera turns over to a giant monitor showing a 4-part wheel. The four parts have four marks on it: a wing for Flight, a sun for Light, a moon for Night, and a pen for Write. Atop the wheel is an arrow that seemed to serve as both the stopper for the wheel and the winning area. The screen shows the number 5 and starts counting down, and as it did, the cheering crowd began to countdown along with it. When the countdown ended, the wheel began to spin, the arrow on top eventually causing it to slow down to a stop.
And the arrow points to....
The Pen.
The audience cheered loudly as the pen came off the wheel and became a giant logo that covered the screen.
"There you have it, folks, the The first competition of this year's Grand Flyte Games will be the Write. The crowd seems to be really excited, as are the students seemingly getting fired up for the Orpheus Duel. The Staff is now prepping up, I'm being told the competition will be ready to begin in about 30 minutes. Back to you, Al."
"Thanks Sol, and good luck out there you trooper, I do not envy you one bit." Al said as the camera turns to him, smiling and containing a giggle at the potential harm that could befall his partner.
"I do though, I'd like to go down there and kick some [BEEP]-ing Ishtar [BEEP]." Madame said with a smile of her own, cracking her knuckles as she did, once again making Al give her a slight look of composed worry.
"*Ahem* You heard it here folks. The Write competition will begin in about 30 minutes, and of course we here in Illiad City Arcanum will be broadcasting the whole thing as it happens. For now though, we'll be right back after these messages." Al said. The camera fades out of the sky box to a view of the stadium itself for about 5 seconds, a footer at the bottom of the screen showing the Pen logo and the word "Write" before it fades to black and cuts to commercials.
Letter Bee’s Portion
Participate in the Competition or I cut off Jacob from the Inheritance, William remembered his mother saying as a last-ditch attempt to have him join Marduk’s side in the Tournament. It worked - Gilgamesha Ascot had counted on her son’s desire to reconcile their family in order to get him to fight for her cause one last time before William picked his own path - Not that William was going to wait for her assent.
He looked at the bandmates he had for the ‘Write’ Competition - Nika, Lizzie, the two Magical Girls and perhaps one other student - who were outnumbered by the Ishtar students who had chosen to participate on the opposing side. A sigh, Wiliam had expected to be the underdog before, but as his own faction, not a part of his mother’s. Didn’t she see how her part in the rivalry between Ishtar and Marduk was leeching off promising students from the latter?
Then the boy grit his teeth, and said to Nika and Lizzie, “We are going to need to use a loophole in the rules - Nothing says that all of us have to sing - The rest of us can work on setting the stage and increasing our song quality. I dislike how mother insists on ‘cheating without actually breaking the rules’, and I’ll be open with it - She’s become corrupted by vengeance.”
A pause, as he handed a packet of acorns and a bar of high-calorie food to Lizzie and said, “I need you to grow oak trees around our stage to focus the sound from both bands to the audience - Call it sportsmanship.” Then to Nika, “As for you, I need you to ward off our opponents’ own attempts to prevent our song from being heard - I know Nergal told them to cheat.” Then to the two Darvon sisters, William handed them a note saying, “Here are the lyrics of the song I want you to sing. Use any tone and melody you want as long as you leave the words themselves unaltered.”
He then turned to the one remaining student, assuming she had not just vanished, “As for you, I need someone to guard me while I observe, copy, and forge into an item every enchantment that our allies and opponents are using. But if you don’t want to do that, I can’t fault you - After all, I have ulterior motives..."