Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn! 52 Tournament Registration

Lars walked down the street at a brisk pace.

He had his hood up and covered his face slightly to keep his fair skin from too much sunlight. He had to take good care of his complexion...

He had decided to head to the Gorun Stadium to register first as it was still early. He didn't know much about the tournament, only smatterings of conversations from here and there. He wanted to check out the tournament details and make sure he was prepared before he met the quest awarder.

However, as he headed over quickly towards the stadium, he began to grow apprehensive. Just why were there SO MANY crowded around the area? It almost felt like the selection competition had already started! As he walked towards his destination, he began to congregate with more and more people seemingly headed in the same direction. He listened in a little to their conversations and found out that it was true - they really were bound for the stadium!

'But why...?' He pondered over it as he continued onwards.

As he grew even closer, the crowd became ever larger. This piqued his curiosity even further - was there something going on at the stadium this early on? Weren't there 2 more days before it started? He noticed that the majority of the people were around his age; especially many! So so many! Without needing to observe closely, it mattered not whether the young people were foreigners or locals, the majority looked to be around his age...!

If he just made a count based on an eyeballing of the youths he saw dressed in battle-ready garb, there should be more than a thousand young men and women going towards the stadium!

Well, mostly teenage boys... He had his suspicions but decided to find out and verify his hypothesis. Nonetheless, he did feel slightly concerned - had he missed out something by coming only today? Could it be that...

His heart beat faster, feeling like a cold claw were gripping his chest.

Could it be that the registration was actually much earlier? Could it be that the applications were already closed...? Could it be that...

He had already missed the selection tournament...!??

He consciously quickened his pace, trying to squeeze past and overtake the already fast-moving crowds. His jostling and pushing caused many to shoot daggers at him along with angry frowns and various colourful "praises". But he turned a deaf ear and blind eye to those; he had a bad feeling about things...

By this time, he could see the magnificent, monumental Gorun Stadium looming over the horizon and every other building in its vicinity. Even from far away, it was a towering building maybe 20, 30 stories high, gargantuan even for such a large city!

In fact, it didn't look like that much like a stadium; it looked more like a cross between an incredibly large palace and an office complex! The stadium was so high and wide that it felt like it extended endlessly in every direction including aerially, rising up to blot out the sky and casting long shadows in the morning sunlight. The orange sheen coating the outside of the complex looked to be from the baked clay bricks used in its construction; and he could hear some cheers every now and then from the stadium compound.

Based on the outward appearance, the maximum capacity was like upwards of 20 to 30 thousand spectators...

Lars felt a shiver of excitement and passion run through his veins. He didn't know why, but he felt energised and a sense of ardour when he thought of the upcoming competition where he would be pit against other young experts in a battle for supremacy! He could already visualise the scenes of hot-blooded battle, head-to-head conflict, the moments of truth and courage, and the crazily intense rush of emotions as he imagined stepping into the ring to vie for the title of champion!

The sounds of a crowd roaring and cheering his name resounded in his ears, to an envisioned chant of, "LARS! LARS! LARS! LARS!!!!!" followed by jubilant cries and thunderous applause!

A smile crept onto his face as he approached the 15 metre wide and 10 metre high entrance to the sprawling monument that signified the valour of the city of champions, a dwelling that was built upon blood-shed and bravery fighting against both the forces of nature and enemies on the north and east borders.

When he reached the entrance, he saw that it was well guarded with more than a dozen well-armed, well-built warriors standing at attention, surveying the crowds and denying entry to anyone who looked suspicious.

He saw also many people standing around idly, some trying to peer in to the compound, watching and waiting expectantly for some anticipated arrival and good news - or bad. He saw some older couples who looked just like concerned parents, as well as those with several young children in town - perhaps the younger siblings of contestants.

There were also many youths and some older young adults as well as middle-aged persons heading in and out of the arching entrance. Some looked delighted while others appeared dejected, even despondent at whatever result they had received.

But through all of these observations, the important question was this - didn't the tournament only start in 2 days?

...What was going on with the stunning crowd already gathered here and the uproarious noises emanating from the compound of the stadium?

"Doesn't the tournament only start in 2 days?"

Lars was surprised as he heard an older voice echoing exactly his thoughts. He looked to his side to see an equally astonished man stroking his medium-length greying beard. Despite Lars' axiom of not judging a book by its cover, this was one case where he felt outright off-put by the man standing beside him.

Long flowing white hair, thin and wispy despite no bald spots. Sharp, sword-like eyebrows. Cruel and callous eyes shaped like savage cuts across the man's already gaunt and haggard face. Sunken cheeks with high cheekbones. A hawking nose. Fine, thin and almost white lips, barely the lightest shade of pink. A thin, pointed chin. Tall, lanky frame, but with long and gaunt fingernails along with sharp nails.

'A dark arts practitioner?!?' The man gave off a sinister feel, and it seemed like there was more to him than meets the eye. This was even despite the man bearing a neutral expression and looking well-groomed in a set of clean white robes.

'...Kid. Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this guy, he smells... Off...' Kizorik, usually silent, chimed in to support Lars' own impression.

'Kizorik... Do you know what's wrong about this guy?' Lars attempted to flash a smile to the man who merely tilted his head slightly towards him and nodded, before turning forward to face the stadium again. They both kept a steady pace and a constant distance of 3 arm's lengths between them as they proceeded in step to the gateway.

'No... It's just... I don't think he's more powerful than you, it's just... Bah! I can't put my finger on it, just... Just don't get on his bad side, okay!' Kizorik blurted the words out exasperatedly and then withdrew back into wherever it was he liked to hide in Lars' mind.

He headed towards the entrance and queued up behind some others in a line to a counter that said, "Registration", right behind the gaunt man with a dangerous appearance. He noticed also something odd - there was no one else behind him in line!

As he moved further and further in the line, he heard something that made his heart beat faster in anxiety.

*Ding! Ding!* He heard the ringing of a bell to draw everyone's attention before an announcement was made.

"Registration closes at 11.00 AM! Registration closes at 11.00 AM!"

He quickly glanced over the people lined up in front of him and made a mental estimate - good, from the rate the line was moving, it looked like he would be just in time to register!

Nevertheless, a sense of nervousness came on him as he tried to peer over everyone's shoulders to catch a glimpse of the registration counters. He couldn't really see clearly, but it looked like the people in front all pulled out a form which the stadium workers would examine then affix a stamp of approval on before ushering the registrants in.

He was worried. It looked like there was some sort of pre-registration needed? He looked around quickly - true enough, every single one of the applicants in front of him, without fail, had an application form already!

'Shit... I won't have time to get the form and come back... And it seems whatever details are in it are already filled in... Shit!'

"Damn..." He heard the man in front of him cursing, apparently he had noticed the same thing.

And as they were worrying over what to do, their turn in line grew ever closer. The legendary mage began to sweat, wondering how he would solve this; as this tournament was his only avenue to bypass the insane cost of teleportation!

"Erm... Sorry to intrude but..." Just then, he was snapped out of his reverie by a polite and kind sounding voice from before them.

In front of the white-dressed man in queue was a rather decent-looking blue-eyed teen, whistling cheerily what sounded like a bar song. Odd for his age - he shouldn't even be old enough to drink yet! He had brown hair and clear skin, and appeared to be dressed in simple brown shirt and pants with black boots - standard quester's garb. The badge pinned on his chest confirmed Lars' observation - he was a Bronze-ranked quester, not bad for a youth appearing to be 16 or 17 years old at most!

The blue-eyed boy stepped closer a half-step and bowed slightly before he spoke, "But do you two need some help...? I noticed that you guys haven't brought your verified registration forms..." His eyes darted back and forth between Lars and the threatening-looking man dressed in white as he spoke, slightly nervous about speaking to these two strangers for the first time.

Both Lars and the gaunt man raised their eyebrows in shock at his words, then spoke nearly simultaneously, as if they had coordinated their speech, "Registration forms? Verified? How should we--" Then they looked at each other in shock, realising that their speech was too synchronous, seeming like a married couple.

Lars' face turned slightly flush in embarrassment while the older-man scowled, then stepped towards the helpful boy and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Tell me! How can I get this registration form and get it verified! Hurry! It is *very important* that I join this farce of a tournament!" He spoke raspily and with an acidic tone.

Taken aback but still managing to maintain his bright and positive demeanour, the boy nodded enthusiastically, saying, "Certainly, certainly Mister...?"

"Hmmph. You may address me as Wesley. Now hurry up! Tell me what we need to do!" The grey-haired man demanded impatiently.

Lars stepped back but kept his ears perked up, listening intently.

"Alright! My name is Charley! Well... You just need to get a form, which I happen to have some extras of right here..." He dug around in his cloak pockets, prompting Wesley to let go of his shoulder, then Charley took out two ragged looking pieces of paper - forms that were folded haphazardly, but still looked usable.

"And? How about the verification? Be quick! I don't have all day you know!"

The brunette flashed a sunny grin at the rude man, then said, "Simple. Just get a registered member of a guild to vouch for you and get to sign in the little box--" He pointed at the bottom right corner of the form where a signature line was located, "--Right there, and you're done! Oh, but you can't sign for yourself. So... 2 silver coins...?" He grinned cheekily, then held out an expectant hand to receive payment.

But he was only met with a questioning raised eyebrow from Wesley, which made the cheerful boy begin to grow awkward.

'T-two silver!?? Ridiculous!!' Lars began to shake, heart-aching as he couldn't bear to part with any of his hard-earned coins! Money was precious, precious and difficult to earn, you know! Money was his love, money was his life! Oh, not forgetting Moira; she was a close number 2 after money...

Just then, Lars got an ominous feeling, one of darkness and as if though a volcano was about to erupt. He looked at the man dressed in white - it seemed that he was about to lose his temper and probably cause a great commotion right here and now!

Lars froze, then launched into a coughing fit. If the man made trouble here, wouldn't he be implicated too?? What would happen to the tournament???

So he sighed then decided that he had no choice. If he wanted to win the tournament and earn more money with the fame, he needed to act decisively.

And at the same time, he could perhaps get closer to and find out more about the mysterious Wesley.

He chose this moment to interject and tossed two silver coins into the boy's waiting hand. "Will 2 coins be enough...? For the both of us, I mean!" He quickly added, before the enterprising young boy could claim that it would cost 2 silver coins EACH!

The boy frowned for a moment, before his grin grew even wider, smiling slightly shyly as he secreted the coins away somewhere on his person as he said, "Sure, Mister...?"

"Lars."

Then the boy flashed a cheeky grin again and looked slightly embarrassed as he asked, "I don't suppose the both of you want to rent a pen too, do you...?"

Lars and Wesley were stunned. They had just paid a whopping 2 silver (or at least Lars had paid) and they still wouldn't be able to get their forms settled? What was this, daylight robbery?

But without a choice, a disgruntled Lars once more held up his coin pouch and asked, "How much for the pens...?"

Charley put on a sad look, then said, "Well... I just happen to only have the last 2 pens here with me sooooo... It'll just cost you, oh, I don't know... 2 silver coins...?" He flashed another conman's smile, which for some reason made Lars very, very angry.

Lars sweated at those words, but could only sigh and pull out two more coins with a trembling hand...

"Okay, thank you my dear customers! Here, as an added service, I'll even help you fill in those forms..."

* * * * *

When they reached the counter, Lars almost fainted and wept from heartache, even as he heard the merry boy whistling happily behind him.

There was a pile of registration forms, an abundance of pens... And a ready-and-waiting guild staff on duty to perform verification of their registration.

Even the white-robed Wesley nearly popped a blood vessel from anger at that sight, gripping his pen so tightly that his fists and knuckles turned as white as his robe! He slowly, ever so slowly turned around to place a glowering glare at Charley, as if he were ready to eat him.

Despite his usual bubbly personality, this time the brunette boy backed away nervously, hands waving frantically as he said, "M-M-Mr W-W-W-Wesley!!! No violence, no violence allowed here okay! You can't-- wait! No!!!"

As the grey-haired man vented his anger on the little trickster, the swindlers words of protest turned into unintelligible cries of pain, including shouts of, "AHHH!!! THAT DOESN'T BEND THAT WAY!!! NO!!! THAT, THAT DOESN'T FIT IN THERE, NO, IT CAN'T GO IN THERE!!!"

Meanwhile Lars swayed in horror, almost fainting from the shock and pain of the swindled money!

"My money... My precious money!!!!" Lars wept, swearing never to be tricked again.

Chapter end