Vode

I arrived in the Plains Realm covered head to toe in purple scarves.

The few stares I recieve urge me to walk faster through the rambunctious campsite. This crowded place is where I am to live for half a week and so far I dislike it.

To be candid, it is horrifying as people turn at the very sight of me. Their voices drop low as I pass them like a phantom. Some people even gasp, openly pointing at me in astonishment. I am used to this much attention, the way eyes look at me with speculation and judgemental attitudes. Yet it still makes me feel like I have been hollowed from the inside out. 

I stroll through the campsite with forced confidence until I reach the end of the tournament grounds where the orange registration tent stands. I pass the fabric then finally release a long breath, allowing my shoulders to slouch for just a moment before forcing my back straight once again. I approach one of the woman working registration behind a wooden table and try to speak with assurance. She watches me with speculation along with a handfull of other resiterees and registrars who are in the tent.

"Hello," I force my voice an octave lower in the language of the kingdoms. "I am a warrior who would like to participate in the tournament."

She calmly hands me a paper to fill out while she scans my attire.

She must be wondering why I'm hiding my appearance in so many scarves especially in such warm weather. I just hope it isn't apparent how much I am sweating.

After I finish filling the form and hand it back to her she scans through it, her face becoming as pale as hemlock flowers.

I know what this meant. 

The woman quickly stands up, takes two steps back then turns to run. She stops at the exit spinning on her heels. "Please wait a moment while I finalize this." She utters.

I watch as she runs through a set of marmalade curtains behind her.

I knew exactly what her reaction would be but it still felt strange to experience. Seeing something play out in front of you is completely different from experiencing it. It is seeing the fine lines of a person’s face change, feeling your hands tense and your shoulders go up just a bit with a ready position to move. As much as I told myself not to get nervous I still do.

I force myself to be at ease and stare at the curtains which she ran behind.

She must have seen that I was a representative of the Mountain Realm. I have heard the stories surrounding the rest of the Realm’s view of the Mountains, but I also knew of many Mountaineers who moved to other Realms with no problems whatsoever. Then again they may have never told anyone of their original home.

The oh so horrifying, life threatening Mountains where the fearless, barbaric Mountaineers resided. Yes I was slowly realizing just what the Mountaineers were like to these people. I suppose my Aunt’s letters were not all that dramatized like I had assumed them to be.

Although the Empress had eased the image of the Mountaineers with her frail image and delicate composure there are obviously many who biasedly remain in the idea that the Mountaineers are to be feared.

I watch as the woman rushes back now accompanied with a man.

He stands straight and speaks sternly. "The Healer will have to inspect you." He clears his throat. "To guarntee you do not have any Mountaineer characterstics which would deem you more powerful than a normal human."

"Of course," I agree.

Without any further questions they sent me to the medic tent where my Aunt, the Healer Sapt was inspecting others. Her eyes widened at the sight of me but there was no kind gestures no exchange of words just the simple inspection of my body and the smooth signature she placed on my sheet of paper to approve my acceptance into the tournament.

There was no time to talk to her about my journey or how I am unsure of how to handle all the stares I continued to receive. Instead she gave me a nod of approval and then sent me off. She had yet to want to tell people that we were related. She feared I would be met with rumors of being a humanoid when I won. Which is partly true.

Once that was completed I returned back to the woman and the man who looked to still be debating about my entrance form. They stopped at the sight of me.

"A tent has yet to be prepared." He informs me. "We were not anticpating a Mountaineer."

I glance at the other warriors who are signing up and they quickly avert their eyes as if they never saw me.

"Return in the evening and it should be prepared."

I turn my attention back to him and return the information with a simple nod.

I didn’t want to be looked at anymore. Truthfully, I really wished I could have my tent but I suppose that would be too much to ask. As he said they didn’t even think a Mountaineer would join the tournament so I would give them the benefit of a doubt and hope they are prepared when I return otherwise I will be forced to sleep outside. Not the best option when it is so hot and I am desperately trying to hide my face. 

I quickly rush to find an outhouse which unfortunately took me an hour.

Just how big was this tournament?

I entered the more than disgusting outhouse and slid my one and only burlap sack that was tied to my back around. In it’s confides were a multitude of things but what stood out more than anything was a brown haired wig which had long bangs. I placed it on and then continued with the rest of my disguise that consisted of brown eyes and a simple black dress. A color that would not distinguish my Realm

I would have preferred to be a man but wearing so much makeup to cover the scars on my face as a man would draw just as much attention then if I were to let the scars on my face show. 

Without a proper mirror it was hard to determine just how well I did with the makeup but as I exited it became transparent that I did a very good job as no one even glanced at me. My heart filled with joy as I realized I could now explore the grounds and the Imperial City without an ounce of attention and so I did.

I felt so ecstatic as I passed the vendors who set up a wide array of products. There were gems of every color, toys for every age and animals of every species placed on display to be sold to anyone who called out the right price. Of course I was not going to buy any of these. My money was rather limited since my Aunt would be the one providing everything for me and the currency of the Mountains meant nothing to the currency of the Plains they were far too different in just about every way. So in the end I just watched as men bought jewelry for their lovers, children begged their parents for toys and just about everyone betted for a new shepherd puppy.

It is a pleasant sight that reminded me of the largest festivals of the Mountain Realm. 

After wandering the tournament ground I explored the Imperial City that was far larger than I had initially believed. It is so large in fact that I nearly got lost twice in the cobblestone streets and the swarms of people.

People could be found perched atop wagons screaming at one another to move out of the way. There were families who sat upon their high roof homes drinking afternoon tea or eating pleasant snacks and if you were to glance down the dark decrypt alleyways, one could even see women and children stringing laundry lines full of clothes.

It is lively as I watch the buildings tower high with every step to the city square. 

The square opens into a large center that is just as busy as the rest of the city with vendors lining the outside and people picnicking on a grassy island in the middle. On this grassy island there is a ginormous fountain of mythical beings who spew water from their mouths and hands. It is quite magnificent, so incredible that I cross the street and the grassy island to sit upon the fountain and watch the people go by. On occasion there was one or two passerbyers who looked at me but as soon as they saw the faint scar on my lip they averted their eyes before I could meet theirs. 

Scars are not typically a shocking feature but mine were. With so many scattered on my face alone it would attract too much attention and raise too many questions. This is the only reason why I cover them.

I look up to the sky that is turning a hue of pink and decide this is my signal to return to the camp. So I begin to return to the tournament grounds which unluckily is a two hour walk.

I did not realize how far I walked when I was exploring and now greatly regretted treaking so far.

As the stars begin to speckle the sky the amount of people who were once out on the streets dwindle to crowds of two or three who walk side by side. I hurry a bit faster now as I realize I am the only person who lacks a companion or an entourage of friends.

When I did return to the tournament grounds it had become a ghost town. I felt that I had imagined all the people that were once there, as the booths that held merchants were now empty and dark. Granted the occasional bar which was open serving only a few parties. 

I ignore the few groups returning back to the outhouse to change into my normal attire. Once done, I peer my head out first pleased that there is no one around to see me leave as a new person. Although there is a peculiar crow who perchs upon the top of a nearby tent. I ignore it treaking to the registration tent covered head to toe in scarves yet again. The tent appears green in the dark night except on the inside where one sleepy man sits in a chair, the light of a few candles shining against his dark eyes that fought to stay open. 

I stroll in and he sits straight up folding his hands on the table as if he had not been dozing off just a moment before.

“Ah,” he says standing. “Are you perhaps the Mountaineer?” He takes a step back* while I adjust the bag that droops over my shoulder.

I am suddenly feeling on edge. “That is right.” I nod.

He fumbles with his clipboard and pen in a hurry. “You must be back for your tent?” He says, forcing his lips to pull into a smile.

“Aye,” I nod.

He seems momentarily thrown off by the word aye and I correct myself. “Yes, sir.” I nod again.

The sudden formality puts him at ease and he runs to the back of the tent to retrieve a tightly wrapped bundle of fabric and seven wooden poles. Six were eight feet long for the hexagonal tent and one nine foot pole for the center.

It is going to be a bit of weight but nothing I couldn’t handle. I hope.

I sling the tent over my shoulder along with the poles and turn away being careful the poles do not hit the table the man is standing beside. 

“Wait!” The man calls.

I turn my head over my shoulder as he runs into the tent returning with a shovel. “I will help.”

I lift my hand signaling him to stop. “There is no need.”

His brows furrow as the shovel in his hand droops. “Are you sure, I will be happy to help a young boy like you.” I lower my hand and inspect him. 

He is short in stature with olive skin, his eyes wrinkle with age and his tight curls speckle with white. It is hard to distrust such a kind looking man that just wants to help. It is especially difficult when he believes I am just a child who has travelled halfway across the Mountain and Forest Realm to prove his strength in the Plain Realm. Though I would like to speak to this man longer, I know what I have to do.

I bow, seeming to surprise him. “There is a saying where I am from, Fobr yp rboz smf vpzr nsvl hppf.  It means a virtuous man will dive into evil and not drag down those who are good.”

The man tilts his head confused. “I don’t know if I understand?” he says, stepping closer. 

I approach him and give a smile I hope he can see in the crescent of my eyes. “There is a man watching in the Desertian tent to the left.” I whisper. 

The man glances up and notices. 

I gently pull the shovel from his grasp. “I would much rather the warriors approach me with questions then bombard you with speculations of me.”

The mans eyes crescent as he gives a true smile and nods returning back to his seat without giving further assistance. “I understand,” he nods. “But should you need assistance, do not hesitate to ask Mr. Devo.”

I tense at the name, not expecting him to know it at all. “I will be sure to.”  I nod. “Thank you.”

I turn away, noticing the Desertians are not the only ones peeking out from their tents. Their are Coasties and Junglians peeking out of their own colorful tents, their eyes piercing into me. A Plainian covered in red is even bold enough to leave his tent. He passes by me, his eyes sparkling in anticipation as he gives a small nod of his head. I am sure to nod my own head in greeting and he hastily runs away smirking, proud of the fact that he so confidently approached me.

I take a breath and hope no one will be too much of a bother. I already have too many things on my plate considering I have to win the tournament to be a proper Dire to the Gladio. I could have been recommended to be the guard of the Prince but it seems that my aunt, the Healer Sapt, wanted me to prove my worth to her as well. 

It feels as though I am never good enough no matter where I go.

I take a deep breath dropping my supplies at the very edge of the tournament grounds. “Why would she do that?” I whisper to myself.

She knows that there is someone who wants me dead in the Realms but maybe she hopes this person has moved on from her vengeance or maybe she has a plan for capturing her.

I look over to the castle in the distance, noticing in one of the highest towers to my left is a small window that glows orange from an unseen source. It is one of the only windows lit and for a brief moment I wonder if the Prince is awake amongst the stone walls, his nose stuck in a book perhaps or maybe he is a horrendous beast chasing maids throughout the castle.

Not likely from what I heard. The book was more likely. 

Yes, he is probably sitting up there reading a book about something he just can't put down and has to read deep into the night hours. That is the kind of Prince I want to protect. An ambitious man who only has an interest in expanding his perspective of the world. Anything less and I would be dejected but I had no choice but to still protect him with my life. 

I ignore the ideas, deciding I will set up the tent and sleep comfortably for the first time in over three weeks.