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Skye returned his smile; “Aye, we’ll be fine. Don’t fret over us. Ye need to focus on the demonstration.. Have fun, husband.”

The two kissed, then went their designated ways. Tidas had to hurry and change, and Skye needed to make her way to the balcony; where the king and his party were.

They’d come in through the competitor’s entrance. It split for accompanying trainers, family, or friends to go to the arena, and those competing went towards the prep area.

Tidas entered, and went straight for his black undersuit and armor. He imagined how it must’ve been for competitors thirty years ago, before they had unlocked the ancient’s technology. No one had died during the trials in twenty years, thanks to Alcon’s top scientists.

It took them a decade to study and design the suits Tidas was familiar with. As he dressed; the prince’s mind drifted..

Tidas had never been very good at history, but he remembered things that interested him. Like how a bunker had been found forty years prior, but the seal had been damn-near unbreakable. Once opened, a treasure trove of technology was discovered; all intact and operational. Including the power source.

Though the undersuits had originally been designed for some type of ‘full-dive, virtual game system’; Alcon’s scientists had developed training equipment from their design. Equipment that drastically cut down on injuries and death during training. They also gave far better data than simply evaluating the competitors with their eyes.

The black undersuits had build in sensors that registered whenever someone’s weapon or magic hit you. If the hit landed was ‘damaging’ in any way, tiny electrodes emitted an electric shock that numbed the area that was hit. If the hit landed was meant to be critical, you were disqualified.

.....

Sensor wraps were put on all physical weapons, such as swords, axes, and shields. They not only sent the damage signals to the suits upon contact, but they also blunted the weapons. Manics and Tanks that use guns and other projectiles, had special ammunition that splattered upon contact; much like a paint ball.

Tamers had limitations to the animals that they were allowed to use. The specifics of the trials determined the size and capabilities of the animals and weapons used. A Tamer may see their animals as companions, but they were still essentially tools. And one needed the right tools to get the job done.

Even elementals had limitations. For example: an earth user couldn’t just open up a giant pitfall and bury the other teams. Doing that would not only infuriate the crowds, but make it impossible to properly evaluate the competitors.

Initial positioning and ranks within the RMC were given based upon scores received during the trials. Most members went through additional training before, and after their trial placement. Even those placed in leadership roles were still trained in their position for six months to a year. Their position and rank were nearly guaranteed, so long as their final training went well.

The trials were generally based on the topography of whatever kingdoms Alcon was currently in conflict with. While the Sync Kingdom was always considered a threat, this year, the obstacles and terrain were centered around the highlands.

Jagged rocks like cliff sides jutted out in every direction from the walls. With random low spots for obstacles and other teams to attack from.

The course was divided into six rows, for six teams. After about a quarter of the track, three rows combined into one. Leaving two rows that were divided by the main wall. It ran down the middle of the track until about three-fourths the way. After that, it opened up completely. Meant to create a final showdown between the competitors heading for the finish line.

The field was just under ninety thousand square feet. Technically, it’s base was made from an ancient structure. It was oval-ish in shape, and had an odd, two-pronged poll at one end of the field. Based off of the information from ancient tomes, it was the venue for an ancient sport called ‘football’.

Historians still argued over which type of ‘football’ the field was meant for. Most believed it to be the one lesser known one involving an oval shaped, brown ball that one hardly kicked. Causing great confusion over why the ancients had named it as such. Especially when a different game already existed with the same name; one you generally only used your feet for.

It was a silly topic, but one the prince found himself lost in as Zas came up from behind him. He locked his arm around Tidas’ head, startling the prince into reacting. In a flash, Zas was flipped over his shoulder.

The general slammed down on the bench in front of the prince; smashing it, and sending pieces flying everywhere. The commotion drew the attention of the competitors who were still loitering about in the locker room.

Zas hadn’t been expecting Tidas to react so quickly, or at least so harshly. He’d let out a cringe-worthy yowl when he’d landed on his tail. Other than that, he hadn’t been hurt. Shaking his head and flicking his ears, Zas glared at the prince before snarling at him.

“What the Hell?! It was a joke, Das! You nearly broke my tail!”

“Oh shit! Sorry! Sorry! I was thinking-wasn’t thinking! Sorrry, Zas! I didn’t even realize what I was doing!” Tidas took his friend’s hand, and hoisted him to his feet, tripping over his words the whole time.

The general dusted off his suit and armor, then smacked the prince in his shoulder hard; “It’s alright.. Isn’t the first time it’s happened. I should know better than to sneak up on you by now.”

Everyone around them stared and whispered. Some smiled and laughed about their obvious friendship. Others compared them. None were stupid enough to say anything negative. Most knew of General Zas’ excellent hearing, considering he’d interacted with most of them already.

Unlike Skye, most who had magic were indoctrinated into the military shortly after their trait showed. Parents could decide to keep their children until fourteen, but only if they didn’t possess a rare trait. The law originally said sixteen, but Magnus had changed it about six years ago.

Supposedly, research had been done stating that the earlier children were trained, the better soldiers they made. Tidas had later found out that the so-called ‘tests’ were done on children purchased as slaves. One of the leading medical researchers in the kingdom had been secretly experimenting on slaves of all ages and variations, for decades. It was the prince’s first large-scale operation, and had put a major dent in the slave trader’s pockets.

Even with the source of the research brought to light, Tidas’ father still refused to change the law back. He’d always suspected that his brother had a hand in his decision. Marco saw people as their statistical value. He didn’t care how cruel it was to separate a family. If it benefited the kingdom as a whole, it was worth it. At least, that was how he’d worded it..

Once indoctrinated, a minimum of three to four years was required before a soldier could attempt the Mage Trials. Until then, unless they showed extraordinary talent; the recruits were classified as Infantry Mages. They could be assigned to both the regular military, or the RMC, at any given time. Depending on the soldier’s rank and position, they might be attached to both simultaneously.

Tidas had been assigned as a division general as soon as he’d passed the Mage Trials at fourteen; they youngest person to pass the trials in Alconian history. It would’ve also been the largest rank jump, too, but for his ancestor, Tiberius’ record.

Being the future king and winner of the Mage Trials had elevated his ancestor quickly to the Third Pillar. And the only reason he wasn’t moved to the First Pillar was due to lack of experience. Even though most still treated him like he was in charge anyway.

“Are you ready? They’re about to announce us,” Zas called to Tidas as he attempted to clean up the broken bench.

Tidas huffed as he cleared away the heaviest pieces; “Aye, just need to get these pieces out of the way, at least. They’re too heavy for the servants to life alone.”

“It’s great that you’re such a nice guy, but the king will have our heads if we’re late. Clean it up later!” Zas grabbed Tidas by the back of his armor, and yanked him backwards.

The prince bantered back and forth with his friend until they’d reached the entrance to the field. Shasta was leaning against the wall as they’d approached. She straightened up right as they stopped a few feet from her. The VC wore the same black sensory suit that everyone else had on. She had a scowl on her face, and pulled at her suit in various places. Seeing her discomfort, Zas commented; “It’s so cute when house cats wear people clothes.”

Shasta stared daggers at Zas before rebutting; “Shut it, you flaming furball! You know I Hate wearing clothes like this! It’s itchy, and it messes up my fur!”

The prince chuckled; “If you want, we could have you shaved..”

Scratching at herself furiously, Shasta glared on final time at Zas and Tidas; “I can’t wait to punch you two!”

“Sorry Shasta, just having a bit of fun. If it makes you feel better; I flipped Zas again. Onto a bench this time!”

Shasta paused a moment before she replied; “Ok, I’m good then.”

“Really?! So my pain gives you peace of mind?” Zas’ voice voice was lined in fake outrage.

Shasta smiled devilishly; “Yep! Your head is like my own little zen garden. It’s fun to push your rocks around.”

Right as Shasta finished her last jab, horns began to sound off in the closing distance. It was a signal for the Three Pillars to enter the arena, for their demonstration. Shasta flicked her ears irritably as she pulled at her collar. A small growl escaped her as she asked; “Does anyone else feel like a damn circus monkey for doing this?”

The two exchanged a look and replied simultaneously; “Yes.”

“Good.. So long as it’s not just me,” Shasta added as the group headed out onto the field...