While the courtyard steward drew a fresh twenty-pace ring of white lime chalk across the frost-cleaned granite flat stone slabs of the central terrace, Seyun walked to the measuring table beside the scales. His body inventory was far from fresh.
Two days of rest and Mina’s salve had closed the deep splits across his palms into tough pink seams. But the five-day-old sword cut across his right thigh—taken during Vaska Ren’s courtyard test at the Hollow Summit—still pulled tightly against its linen bandages whenever he dropped into a low crouch. Beneath his chest bone, Nara Soth’s third mark sat sensitive to heavy axial shock. Beneath his left collarbone, Ilyra’s Deeper Bronze echo pulsed at Day 5 of 7, two sunrises short of arrival.
He was at Dual-Route Flame, facing a seasoned twenty-six-year-old keeper who had stood in consolidated Bronze for six winters. Preparation couldn’t erase that realm difference—but as Seyun looked down at the three standard charter vessels laid out on the measuring table, he knew preparation could determine whether he had a fighting chance to survive thirty breaths.
Under the wording of Article Four, the challenger had the right to select any one of three traditional two-pound measuring vessels kept in the weights pavilion. On the left sat a deep, narrow-necked jar of thick glazed fine china.
