Madeline had visited the coliseum hundreds of times throughout her life, yet the view never failed to take her breath away.

  The coliseum could seat two hundred thousand, and today every seat was full. The stands stood twenty stories tall, forming a walled ring that encircled the arena below. Each brick, step, and arch, was created by the world's finest stone mages, and hand carved to perfection by an army of chaffling slaves.

  The arena was a flat battleground of sand, so expansive, it looked more like a section of walled off desert than anything man-made. Rising from the sand all the way to the top of the stands stood the clocktower. The six hands on its clock face ticked ever closer to twelve o’clock. A dozen gladiator matches wet the crowds pallet before the exam, sating their bloodlust just enough to last the first trial. A dozen mages cleaned the blood from the sand as the crowd waited eagerly. Twenty minutes left until the first trial.

  At the bottom of the stands sat the nobility with the best view of the action. The entire bottom level was sectioned off so that each of the great houses had their own assigned seating and decoration. From there, the higher the seating the cheaper the tickets, so that the stands formed a gradient of colour. The nobility in their vibrant silks and robes at the bottom. Above them sat the merchants and tradesmen in their dyed robes. Above them sat the commonfolk, in their muted colours. Finally at the top stood the chaffling, in their dull greys and browns, or in nothing at all.

  The one exception was the Skull. It was a large balcony that jutted out from the stands, reserved exclusively for the dragons and their entourage. It was made of stone, carved into the shape of a giant dragon's skull that faced the arena. The lower jaw hung perpetually open, forming the balcony base. The upper jaw formed the ceiling and roof, providing shade from the heat. The open mouth granted the best view in the coliseum, decorated by the stone fangs that lined it.

  Madeline pushed aside a silk curtain as she stepped inside, and Remus followed behind her. The Skull was expansive, layered in lavish Qaziri carpets. Accubita couches formed a ring around a banquet table that was covered in food. Incense candles lined the walls, wafting sweet smelling perfume. The pink clouds of incense wafted from the room, smoke billowing from the Skull’s mouth.

  Her father Sebastien, King of Belm, lay on one end of the couch. Golden hair rolled past his shoulders in long waves like fields of grain. The green in his doublet made the red in his eyes shine as he greeted her. Seeing his smile helped her relax.

  Lying on the opposite end was Malira, Sultan of Qazir. She was a giant of a woman, with dark skin and darker hair. She was dressed in layers of black silks that did little to hide her muscle. Her left eye was blood red, marking her as a dragon. Her right eye was covered in a black eyepatch, painted with a white, stylised eye.

  “Princess.” Malira said with a rigid nod. Malira had only ever been polite to her, yet something about her had always been unnerving.

  At the front of the couches lay her favourite of the dragons. Vikramendra, Raja of Suradesh. Master of flesh magic, he took on a different face every time she saw him. Today he looked Suradeshi, with dark skin, long, curly black hair and a short trimmed beard that framed his giant grin. He was dressed in so few silks he may as well have been naked. The only way she could recognise him between faces was because of the golden circlet he always wore, and his red eyes. He was surrounded by a dozen chaffling slaves that fanned and fed him at his beck and call. They were dressed even lighter than him.

  “Madeline!” He said, with a smile too wide for his face, jumping from his spot on the couch.

  “Uncle Vikra, it’s been too long.” She said with a curtsy.

  “Your mother would be proud, but you can drop the Belmish manners here.” He said, sweeping her into a crushing hug. “Your father tells me you're entering the exam.”

  She gave her father a scowl and he simply shrugged in reply.

  “You against all those sorry commonfolk.” Vikramendra grinned as he sank back into the couch. “It will be quite the show.”

  A roar bellowed somewhere above them, like the rumble of distant thunder. She peered through the mouth of the Skull, scanning the sky. A giant shadow swept over the audience, painting them in a dark cloud that moved with blinding speed.

  With another roar it appeared. A body was the size of a house, wings the size of roofs, its shadow eclipsed the arena below. Its scales glittered like rubies in the light of the daystars as it circled the coliseum like a vulture circling a corpse.

  A dragon.

  With another roar, the dragon dove into the coliseum like a gull diving for fish. It fanned its wings, catching the air as it sailed in a spiral above the stands. She watched its shadow sweep over the audience like a tide, the crowds cheering as it went.

  She stepped back as it flew for the Skull. The dragon's body burst into flames, blazing an arrow's path through the air like a shooting star. Flesh melted into light, its massive size shrinking like a closing fist. The dragon turned into a stream of flame, a serpent made of light that slipped between the stone teeth of the Skull before coiling upon the floor.

  Madeline watched as the light grew into the form of a man, light giving way to flesh, flame to skin. The dragon transformed into a man, standing at the front of the Skull to the raucous applause of the crowds.

  The man turned to face her. He was tall, with the olive skin of an Orthosi. His hair was grey with age, but he was no less strong. He was barrel chested, his wide shoulders like boulders, a cape of red satin pinned to them like a waterfall of blood over rocks. His face was stern but as he smiled his wrinkles gave way to a warmth underneath, patched in a shaved salt and pepper beard.

  Amar stood in his human form. A god made flesh.

  “Quite the entrance.” Vikramendra remarked with his mouth full of grapes.

  “Vikramendra, I thought these exams bored you.” Amar teased. Her uncle feigned boredom, and was quite good at it, but she could see Vikramendra tense at Amar's arrival. All of the dragons did.

  “Not enough blood at these things I’m afraid.” Vikramendra replied, toasting him with a chalice of wine. “I’m just here for the princess.” He grinned as he took a sip.

  Amar looked at her with a raised brow. Questioning. She felt her stomach knot and stepped forward.

  “Grandfather.” She said with a polite bow. “I wish to ask for your blessing.”

  “Anything for my favourite granddaughter.” He said with a warm smile.

  “I wish to enter the exam, alongside the commonfolk.” Remus and her father had already agreed, but Amar’s permission couldn’t hurt.

  Instead, his face soured.

  “Come.” He said with a sigh, beckoning her forward. She joined him at the front of the Skull, looking out over the arena through the gaps in its stone teeth. “Madeline, why do you think we host the four trials?” He asked. His voice was deep, soft, yet no less authoritative. “We already have the pre-assessment, so why not just accept the highest scoring participants into the academy? Why the show?”

  This was a test, she realised. A test she had to pass. “Entertainment.” She said, “A distraction.”

  “Gladiators are a distraction, yes, but not the exam.”

  “If you wanted entertainment you could start with more killing.” Vikramendra commented.

  “We can’t very well go killing children now.” Her father rebuked.

  “At least not on purpose.” Malira added, her tone sardonic.

  “Headmaster Remus, as the inventor of the four trials, why don’t you explain?” Amar gestured to Remus, who had been silent until now. As the only human here, he wouldn’t speak unless spoken too first.

  “The four trials, the exam, it’s a story.” Remus began. “It teaches the people that if they just work hard enough, if they just put in the effort, if they just have the dedication, then just like the little mages fighting to pass the exam, they too could one day reach the top. If the exam were just a group of spoiled nobles, an untouchable elite, there would be no crowd. The four trials are popular because they are commonfolk children. Because the audience can see themselves in them. ‘One day’, they tell themselves, ‘that will be me’.”

  “So you can see the reason for my reluctance.” Amar said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “A girl of noble, privileged birth, treading all over the commonfolk. Well, it ruins the story.”

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  “Maybe that’s what we need.” Vikramendra interrupted. “The people grow restless, arrogant. The people speak of revolution.”

  “Whispers.” Her father scoffed.

  “Maybe the story needs to be ruined.” Vikramendra continued. “Maybe we need to remind the people of their place. Remind them why they should fear us. Madeline will tread all over the commonfolk not because she is a noble, but because she is a dragon.”

  Amar considered that for a moment. Vikramendra gave her a wink, and she nodded in thanks.

  “She… is a dragon, yes?” Malira asked. “Her eyes are blue like a human's.”

  She looked down as if that would hide them.

  “Of course she’s a dragon.” Her father sneered. “She’s my daughter. By blood. Her eyes will redden with age.”

  “I’ve fucked half the women in Suradesh and none gave me children.” Vikramendra said. “Trust me brother, if we could get humans pregnant I’d be the first to know. There isn’t a drop of baby batter coming from your little pecker.”

  “Speak another word…” Her father warned.

  Vikramendra put his hands up in mock surrender “Fine, fine. We’ll take your word for it.”

  “All that matters.” Amar interrupted. “Is that the people believe she’s a dragon. Remus, if you please.”

  Remus smacked the head of his wand in his hand a few times before passing it over to Amar, who lifted it to his lips.

  “My people!” Amar said, his voice amplified a thousand fold by Remus’s spell, rebounding across every inch of the arena. At the sound of his voice, the crowd of two-hundred thousand roared, and with the wave of his hand, the same crowd fell dead silent. “It is that time of year once again. A thousand brave children shall try their hardest, but only the best will make it into Mirion academy. Let us cheer for their courage, for their determination, and for their hard work.”

  The crowd roared.

  “And this year, we have a special guest joining us.” He gestured her forward, and she stood beside him at the balcony edge, placing his arm around her. “Princess Madeline has come of age. A true dragon, the first new dragon in centuries. It is time for her to take her place at the academy. But she is no noble, she is a dragon. Thus, she must earn her right to attend.”

  The crowd cheered again as Amar waved to them, passing Remus back his wand.

  “You have my blessing Madeline.” Amar said, looking at her seriously. “Ensure you not only win, but prove beyond a doubt your superiority. Remind them of the power of dragons. Understand?”

  “Yes grandfather.”

  “You best hurry.” He said, pushing her gently toward the door. “The first trial will be starting soon.”

  She left with a nod, but just as she pushed aside the curtain, Remus grabbed her by the arm.

  “Remember what we discussed.” Remus whispered. “Only fire magic.”

  Hugo held his breath.

  Six hands on the clock struck twelve o'clock.

  The bell rang, the war drums rumbled, and the crowd cheered.

  At once, a thousand children stepped over the starting line.

  Hugo didn’t even realise he was running before his legs moved on their own. Eli looked back at him, yelling something, but he couldn't make out the words. His ears were ringing, his heart beating, his breath heavy.

  At once, sound returned. The banging of war drums, the grinding of moving walls, the yelps and gasps and curses of the other children, all drowned out by the deafening cheers of the audience.

  On his left and right, hundreds of children ran beside him, pressed in together by the shape of the arena. They sprinted across a small stretch of sand that lay before the maze. Each wall was two stories tall and an arms span thick, rivalling the defensive walls of a castle. Half the walls remained in place, while the other half moved. Fast. Some moved across the sand faster than he could run, others slower, passing and intersecting each other in a frenzied dance.

  He watched as entrances into the maze opened and closed with the shifting of its walls, vanishing as fast as they appeared.

  “This way.” Eli shouted, pointing into an alleyway that ran between two unmoving walls. Hugo followed, and clenched his fists and he leapt into the maze.

  The shadows of the walls thrust him into darkness, as if he just jumped from day into night. The other children vanished from view, lost behind stone. His view of the audience became blocked by the walls, but what rose above them all was the clocktower. A minute had passed.

  “Left Hugo! Turn left!” Eli screamed, snapping him alert. He followed Eli and Arin as they took a left, sprinting down a static alleyway. He saw flashes of other children as walls moved in and out of view, blocking pathways and revealing new ones. One wall spun in an arc, hitting an unsuspecting girl and sending her flying. Another wall shot in front of them, blocking their path. Eli twirled his wand, catching the wind as it whistled. With a stroke of his hand, he thrust aside the wall with ease. With the path clear, they continued forward.

  How much progress had they made? He looked behind him only to see that the entire maze had changed. He could no longer see the starting line. Through the shifting gaps he could make out a few children ahead of them, but far more straggled behind. That could be a sign that they were making good progress, or it could be a sign that this was a hard trial. A trial that didn’t care how many of them passed or failed.

  Eli’s mind raced. Between every shift and turn of the walls he had to find a path forward. Every second he saw a viable route open, it would close almost a second later. Alone he might've made it, but wrangling Hugo and Arin through the maze was like trying to herd blind sheep.

  He used the clocktower like a compass, guiding him towards the finish line, else they would've gotten lost long ago. A set of gaps opened. Which path? Left? Right? Forward? He took a right.

  Wrong choice.

  It was a dead end. With no easy path forward, he would just have to make one himself. Moving such a massive amount of stone was a ridiculous strain on his mana, so instead he focused on the gears beneath it. He closed his eyes, pushing his consciousness forward, feeling his mind press against the outline of the stone. He forced his mind inside the gap between the wall and the rail it connected to. A set of stone cogs beneath the wall were what allowed it to move in the first place, linked into an interconnected network of gears and cogs and engines that gave the maze its motion. He thrust out his wand, turning the stone cogs with his mind and sending the wall flying aside along its rails.

  It was tempting to brute force his way through everything the maze threw at them, but it was wiser to conserve his mana for now.

  They continued forward until they reached a large clearing. Stone ruins lay scattered across a patch of sand, and a sinkhole revealed the labyrinth of subterranean tunnels that ran beneath the coliseum. Various children emerged from different exits beside them, making their way across the clearing.

  “It looks like an explosion.” He mused. “A big one.”

  “Maybe someone gave up trying to find a path and just started destroying everything.” Arin added.

  “One of the other children did this?” Hugo balked, watching as sand flooded the giant sinkhole.

  “Yes, but it probably cost them a lot of mana–” He froze mid-sentence as something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A girl hopped across the outcroppings of broken walls, dressed in lavish clothes too expensive for a commoner. The curls in her long golden hair gave her away immediately.

  It was the princess.

  An idea emerged. A bad one. A selfish one.

  He looked up. From the clearing he could make out the stands and its crowds of cheering voices. At the front sat the great houses, and from their view this clearing would stand out. An empty space amidst a vast labyrinth. It was the perfect arena.

  If he could fight the princess, if he could defeat the princess, the great houses would see it with their own eyes. House Vallier would become famous overnight. Under any other circumstances, attacking the princess was punishable by death. But if he followed the rules, if he formally challenged her to a duel, from one noble to another…

  “Why are we stopping!?” Arin gasped between heavy breaths.

  “You two go on ahead.” He replied.

  “What? Without you!?” Arin balked.

  “He’s going to fight the princess.” Hugo surmised. So he recognised her too.

  “I’ll be right behind you.” He said. “If you get in any trouble, light a firework and I’ll be there before you can blink.”

  “Eli–”

  “Go!”

  “You’re mad.” Arin frowned in resignation, patting him on the shoulder. “You better be there when we cross the finish line.”

  “I will.” He replied.

  Arin nodded, and with Hugo they ran ahead.

  Madeline made her way between an outcropping of stone ruins when a wall suddenly shot in front of her. She could’ve whipped it aside easily enough if it weren't for Remus. He and her father demanded she only use fire magic throughout the four trials. Of human magic, dragons could only use fire and if the people were to believe she were a true dragon, using anything else would give it away. But… she was a true dragon wasn’t she? Her father had always said so. So why…? She stared at her wand when another wall shifted.

  She turned around to see that several walls had moved to block off any entrances from the clearing into the maze. She had been penned in. This wasn’t the randomness of the maze, this was the work of one of the other children.

  A wall to her left slowly slid aside, revealing someone standing on the opposite end of the clearing. She almost laughed when she recognised him. It was the noble boy from Applemouth. What was his name again?

  “Princess Madeline, I, Elias of house Vallier, challenge you to a duel.”

  Ah Eli. That was his name. The boy spoke into his wand, amplifying his voice so it could be heard by the other noble houses in the audience. Dammit. She didn’t have time for this farce, but it would look bad if she turned down a formal duel. Amar’s words repeated in her mind. Ensure you not only win, but prove beyond a doubt your superiority. Fine then. Are you watching Amar? Let me teach the people to fear dragons again.

  “Elias of house Vallier.” She called, speaking through her wand. “I accept your duel.”