Disembarking was mostly uneventful.
Naroki had to pull Goji away from the purple starfighter he recognized from before. It was a single-occupancy ship with armaments intended for war. The pilot must have landed hours ago. They were here somewhere, and Goji couldn't wait to meet them. "Purple. That's from the jungle planet, right? Tappy something?"
"Tapferkeit," Naroki offered, long-sufferingly. "Yes, the jungle planet. Look for someone wearing an animal mask; that's their thing."
"Why?" Goji asked, genuinely curious.
"Their Avatars are human/animal hybrids, so to honor them—" Naroki realized he was slipping into explanation mode with a boy who never listens anyway.
Sumitsu let her boys be boys while she managed the paperwork and ensured their luggage made it from the shuttle to the tram. They would mature someday. She was sure of it.
The spaceport employed technology to tackle the challenges posed by a sun that never sets, including a magnetic rail system that connected the spaceport to the city. Security systems were implemented to deter nefarious acts and prevent careless individuals from harming themselves or others. Goji continued to push his luck to see what else he could uncover.
None of the technology surrounding them was native to Vechnost. Akahita, the moon of Insular, was renowned for the Muse of Science. The entire infrastructure of space travel, without divine intervention, originated there. Refueling stations, trams and monorails, gravity and pressure simulators—all designed to accommodate interplanetary travel for everyone else in the Celestium.
Goji and Naroki marveled at the wondrous variety of people from across the seven worlds who gathered here to witness the tournament firsthand. Massive crowds organized themselves in seemingly random order as they filtered from the shuttle bays to the many terrestrial travel options.
Naroki noticed a distinct segregation of responsibilities between the Akahitan peoples managing the spaceport and the Vechnostian elves who ushered them to the monorail tram that was to take them on the next leg of their journey. He pondered this separation and wondered what might have caused it, whether it was labor unions, trade secrets, religious affiliations, or something more sinister lurking beneath the surface.
Once inside the tram car, Goji couldn't help but stare out the windows once more. Seemingly endless fields of golden wheat swayed around them. The barren, rocky landscape of his home had never been this fertile.
Goji was also fascinated by how fast he was traveling. The nearest stalks of wheatgrass zoomed by in a blur. Never mind that, relatively speaking, this was the slowest mode of transportation he had been on since leaving his home planet.
Naroki, meanwhile, was gaining a clearer view of the other passengers in the tramcar. He recognized a few familiar faces from his time on the starliner, but this train seemed to be filled with soldiers, monks, and warriors. It finally dawned on him: they were no longer traveling with onlookers. This was his competition. These were the Templars who had come to compete. He noticed eyes glancing at him, appraising him. He felt somewhat self-conscious. He wondered if they could see right through him. Then he realized that the eyes weren't solely on him. Every single person in here was competing with everyone else.
Throughout the tram, Templars employed their theological intimidation tactics to unsettle one another. A Vechnostian elf remained stoic and proud, indifferent to the imposing display of a Tapferkeitan berserker wearing a bear mask. A shark-headed merman from Caitar flashed razor teeth whenever he locked eyes with another competitor. Warriors from different moons of Insular wielded a variety of tools: mechanized armor, innovative ninja gadgets, and weapons that also served as musical instruments—all remarkably inventive. Naroki found himself successfully intimidated by all of them. He didn't know that his training was superior to many of these showy tactics.
Towering over the crowd, Naroki spotted a figure clad in armor that seemed to absorb the light from the air around it. The armor encased the Templar's entire body. He couldn't identify the occupant or how they even put the armor on. Then it dawned on him. Was this a Dark Worlder? What else could it be but a being from the Dark Side of Vechnost? Why was he here in the Light? What sort of creature was this Templar? A Vampire? A Demon? Something that sunlight didn't agree with, but what?
Naroki was well-versed in the history of the Twilight Wars of Vechnost. To see a Dark Worlder here on the light side was either a declaration of war or an envoy of peace. In either case, this was a monumental event. This Templar came to the tournament to make a statement, and it seemed the best course of action was to keep his distance. He was witnessing history in the making, and he felt more unprepared than ever before.
The other Templars maintained their distance from the Dark Worlder. Everyone felt uneasy—everyone except Sumitsu. She sat regally on her bench seat, breathing deeply and lost in her meditative state. The odors of musk and sweat permeated the car. While the scent was generally unpleasant, it was just another experience for Sumitsu. She hadn't had a sense of smell before, making this her first time experiencing the aroma of the Tournament.
The transition through the divine bubble called the Sun Shield was so sudden, you could miss it. Sumitsu felt it. The divine power had a signature. She could feel it. A familiar glyph. Red. The magic of the Goddess of Life and Death. The magic was ancient and eternal. Sumitsu's nervous system responded with goosebumps. A sensation both new and familiar. She adored every sensation her body gave her, no matter how uncomfortable.
Naroki joined Goji at the window, and they both admired the wonders of the city. Naroki patted Goji on the shoulder. Sometimes, his impulsive friend had the right idea: experiencing life firsthand is far better than burying your nose in a book.
The tram came to a stop at the station entrance of The Templar Pavilion, and all the passengers disembarked. The center of the pavilion was decorated with the symbol of a sun from which emerged seven roads, each of a single rainbow color. This basic color coding directed the Templars to their various lodgings, segregated by their planet of origin. The ornate design, constructed in ancient times, continues to serve as a symbol of unity during the tournament.
Goji jumped off the tram and started enthusiastically throwing punches and kicks, not aimed at anything specific. After being cooped up in tight spaces for too long, he felt a strong urge to move. He paid no mind to the amused glances from his future opponents; their opinions didn't matter to him.
Naroki left the tram and assisted Sumitsu as she descended the stairs in her long, flowing dress. He viewed Goji's antics as just another familiar sight. First, he noticed the lack of anyone walking down the indigo path. He was about to comment on that when he saw the Dark Worlder exiting the tram from a different door. The sight of the imposing figure sent a shiver down his spine.
Sumitsu noticed Naroki's discomfort and turned to look at the shadowy figure. She looked deeper, her Avatar eyes glowing gold for a moment. She could see a red magic circle which bore the crest of the Daishinigami and the mark of the Five Kingdoms. Not only was this figure a Dark Worlder, but he was also a general from the Kingdom of the Bloodfey.
He was incredibly daring to come here. A being of his kind would not venture into the Light without a very good reason. Direct sun exposure could kill him. This is why he wore the light-absorbing armor: to protect himself from the light of the sun.
Goji spotted the figure as well and, predictably, approached him directly. "You look awesome! Are you here to fight?" The figure initially regarded this silly boy with suspicion but then nodded. This enthusiasm brought a grin to the Dark Worlder's face, one that only Sumitsu could see, concealed behind the light-blocking armor. "Sweet! I hope I get to fight you!" Goji's excitement was unmistakable and infectious.
Several nearby templars exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unsettled by this casual exchange between the Bloodfey General and this little boy. Naroki and Sumitsu simultaneously suppressed the urge to roll their eyes. Naroki gripped Goji's arm and pulled him away, not wanting to make eye contact with the imposing figure.
The boys scanned the announcement board for their names. They were confirmed to be registered and accepted to compete, but they didn't know who they were up against. Sixty-four templars were paired off in the final brackets.
In previous tournaments, there were elimination bouts and battle royale events with hundreds of templars across all seven worlds. This tradition faded away after the death of Kamoshami. An entire seventh of the competition was missing. New templars were few and far between in correlation to the rationing of sunberries.
"Hey, look!" Goji shouted and pointed. "There you are!"
Naroki looked, and sure enough, his name was there on the left-hand side. He pumped both fists in triumph, then looked around to see if anyone noticed him. Goji didn't care; he was still looking for his name. Naroki helped him search, and sure enough, they found Goji's name too. It was lower down on the right-hand side.
"Wait." The wheels in Goji's head were starting to smoke. "If I'm down there, and you're up there, then the only place where we could meet is…"
"In the final." Sumitsu finished. "In the match that decides the champion."
"Well, then, we'll just both have to get to the final," Goji announced, without a hint of doubt in his mind.
Naroki chuckled at his friend's complete lack of a sense of reality. Each of them would have to win five straight matches apiece to make it to the final. And they'd be facing off against experienced opponents. Some of these templars were centuries old, granted unnaturally long life by their patron deities for their service, but their minds and bodies were still in prime condition. How could they hope to compete?
"I believe in you both." Sumitsu smiled warmly at them and melted all of Naroki's doubts away. That's right. This is the Tournament of Templars. Faith and discipline are rewarded here. Honor your god, and through you, they will show their might.
Goji still wore that same stupid grin that suggested he never had a care in the world. Naroki smiled back, eager to knock that smile off his face in the final.
Just as Naroki was about to ask about the vacant indigo path and why no one walked it, he noticed the emerald halo of divine light surrounding a vacant space in the figure of a man. Sumitsu seemed to be talking to an Avatar of the Goddess of Wisdom who chose to mask his physical appearance. But just as soon as Naroki had noticed the figure, it disappeared.
"Is everything alright?" He asked her, concerned.
"Yes. Nothing out of the ordinary." Sumitsu replied, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy, which Naroki picked up on. "I am to attend the Council of Avatars immediately. Do see to it that our things are brought to our suite? Thank you so much."
Goji pouted as he realized he was being handed chores. Naroki didn't mask his concern at Sumitsu's tonal shift. Both boys just stood and watched Sumitsu as she backed up into a swirling portal of gold and emerald magic and vanished from view.