The red-gold haired warrior sat on the ancient bed, sighing solemnly and looking down at his hands. His bright blue eyes were filled with sadness as his thoughts wandered aimlessly about his head, all revolving his guardian. The black haired wizard noticed him in such a state, grasping the young warrior's shoulder firmly, he handed him a cloak with a hood.

"It's time to get going." Hastings said. "Put this on, Jack. We don't need everybody to know you're alive just yet."

Jack took the cloak grudgingly, throwing it over his shoulders and the navy blue tunic, he pulled the hood over his face, making no effort to talk to the wizard. Hastings sighed, his green eyes lingering on the warrior.

"I didn't know Amen would take matters into her own hands," Jack flinched at the sound of the guardian's name. "She's rather impulsive sometimes."

"You knew she was my guardian," Jack said in an angry voice. "You knew she wouldn't let anybody down, even if it meant dying. You wanted this to happen. You're manipulative and she hates you for it."

"She hates me for other reasons," Hastings said. "Let's go."

Jack stepped out the door and followed Hastings out of the stone cottage where they stayed and out to the main fields. Tents either colored red or white, some emblazoned with a white rose or a red one, sold food and other souvenirs. Venders shouted over the excitement of the crowd to get their messages out to the buyers. The real group was gathered near the Weirstone, also known as the Dragon's Tooth, where the gamesmaster and the premier wizards of each wizard house were seated. This is where warriors were registered for the game. People crowded around the arena of bloodshed to catch an early glimpse of the competitors. On the far right, Wylie, Red Rose wizard, sat in the wooden chair, a savage smile on his face. His face was still badly burnt from when Amen had given him what for. On the far left, Jessamine Longbranch sat, stone still, looking out at the crowd. Her long, dark hair was tied back with bouquets of white roses. Her dress was black, dozens of white roses pressed to it. The Tournament Cup stood next to her. In the center was a man with dark hair, a large, leather bound book in a stand in front of him. No doubt, the Rules of Engagement, large-print. He had dark hair, stubble lined his face as if he hadn't slept in days. This was probably Claude D'Orsay, lineal gamesmaster. He cleared his throat, the sound reverberating through the crowd as a motion for silence.

"A tournament has been called by the Red Rose," D'Orsay said in a loud voice. "On the 21st of June, the summer solstice. Anyone who wishes to put forth a champion must be present for examination of their champion."

There was a murmur through the crowd, which instantly silenced. Some looked at Hastings and Jack, two cloaked figures in the middle of the crowd. A third wandered around the back, looking at the stage, arms crossed over their cloaked chest, a disapproving stance.

"Red Rose, do you have a champion?" D'Orsay asked rhetorically.

"What do you mean do I have a champion? I called this bloody tournament!" Wylie exclaimed. After a glare from D'Orsay, he crossed his arms. "Yes, I have a champion."

"Please bring forth the Weirbook." D'Orsay said.

After proving that their warrior was a legitiment heir, stopping some time in the late century, D'Orsay turned to Jessamine Longbranch, a bored expression on his face. He obviously didn't take his job very seriously.

"White Rose, do you have a champion?" D'Orsay asked.

"The White Rose is unable to put forth a champion at this time," Longbranch said, a hint of anger was present in her voice. "He took his own life while training."

"According to the Rules of Engagement," D'Orsay said without even looking in the book. "If you are unable to put forth a champion at this time, you forfeit your position as Holder of the Tournament Cup."

"I understand." Longbranch said.

"Is there anyone else who would like to put forth a champion at this time?" D'Orsay asked.

Hastings kept quiet, clutching Jack's Weirbook tightly in his hand. Jack cast a glance his way, wondering why he hadn't said anything. Suddenly, Hastings threw back his hood and raised his hand.

"I would like to put forth a champion!" Hastings called proudly.

"And what house do you belong to?" D'Orsay asked.

"The House of the Silver Dragon." He said.

"And who is your champion?" D'Orsay asked.

"You can't seriously be thinking of letting him compete, D'Orsay!" Wylie argued. "Leander Hastings is a traitor to the Wizard Guild! Besides, this tournament is only for the Roses!"

"Where in the rules does it say that?" Hastings asked.

"Well, uh . . . it's," Wylie stammered angrily. "It's not in the rules. But it's tradition!"

"It says that if a sponsor has a warrior to put forth, then he may compete." Hastings paraphrased.

"Well, who is your champion?" D'Orsay asked.

"Jackson Downey Swift," Hastings said. "Son of Rebecka Downey and Thomas Swift."

"That's impossible!" Longbranch shouted, pointing a nailed finger at Hastings. "Jack Swift is dead!"

"Jack Swift is very much alive."

Hastings proceeded to pull out his Weirbook and opened to the last page, his family lineage. After proving he was a legitiment heir tenth century a courier appeared next to Longbranch. He leaned down, put up a hand, and whispered something in her ear. She listened with great interest and a wicked smile crossed over her face.

"Is Jack Swift present?" D'Orsay asked.

Hastings pulled down Jack's hood, revealing him to Longbranch and Wylie. Wylie was in flames about the whole ordeal, probably because he expected and easy win. Longbranch was merely smirking waiting to speak.

"If I may, Gamesmaster," Longbranch spoke up. "It seems there's been a change in the status quo. The White Rose will have a champion to put forth!"

"What?!" Wylie was positively red with anger now. "That's not possible! Jack Swift is for the Silver Dragon! What did you do? Create another mongrel Heir to play?"

"No," Longbranch said, a cloaked figure appearing by her side. No doubt her warrior. "I haven't created any others but Jackson Swift."

"Who is your champion?" D'Orsay asked.

"Me," The cloaked figure answered.

A hand appeared from inside and unlatched the golden clasp holding the cloak in place. It blew away in the wind, revealing the warrior in a black tunic, white roses embroidered across the chest, tan leggings, and knee high boots. A loose, white collared shirt lay just underneath the tunic, the long sleeves stretching past the shorter black sleeves. The string of a pendant lay around their neck, but whatever was on it was kept safely behind their shirt. Longbranch gazed at her champion with a happy expression.

"My champion is Amen Cross." Longbranch said.

Amen rolled her eyes at the dramatics. Immediately, a cheer rang up from the crowd. Amen's green eyes flashed in Jack's direction, her black hair blew in the slight breeze. She looked at the crowd that chanted her name, and Longbranch who nodded approvingly. Wylie was speechless, a dumbstruck expression on his face. His fingers traced the burns given to him by the White Roses Champion. D'Orsay himself seemed a little star struck.

"Very well then," D'Orsay said. "If there are no more champions, will the warriors move to the arena for examination."

Amen merely walked off the side of the Gamemaster's box, landing on her feet in the arena below. The earth groaned with the suffering of a million warriors. She felt as though she'd be sick just stepping on it. Jack walked onto the arena, a stupid look on his face, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing. The Red Rose's warrior still wore a cloak, hiding their identity among two star warriors. A single wizard came down before them, holding a silver cone in his hand.

He examined Jack first. The pressed the cone against the fabric of his tunic, but Jack felt the cone burning as though it were against his skin. The examiner listened to the stone behind his heart and turned to the wizards.

"He has a warrior stone. He qualifies!" The examiner exclaimed.

He moved next to Amen. He pressed the cone above her heart, listening intently to the stone within. He paused for a moment, looking up at her, and listening again. He turned to the crowd. The moment of truth, Amen and Longbranch were both looking very tense.

"She has a warrior stone. She qualifies!" The examiner proclaimed.

Amen and Longbranch both let out a sigh of relief. Amen cast an indifferent glance at her sponsor, who beamed at her pet. Amen sighed and waited for judgement on the third warrior. The examiner was listening intently to the stone within. He looked confused for a moment. He turned on his heel.

"There is a stone. She qualifies!" He declared.

More uproar from the crowd as their rats for viewing the next day were chosen. Instantly, they could hear venders setting up betting scales and charts. The two warriors, though, we caught up staring at the third. Amen knew who it was immediately.

"Hullo, Jack." The warrior said. "Amen."

Ellen Stephenson pulled back her hood, her chestnut hair falling from the hood. Jack was dumbstruck for the second time. Amen wasn't surprised.

"I knew there was something about you." Amen said. "You were well trained to keep a handle on your powers. I almost wasn't able to tell what kind of Weir you were."

"Ellen?" Was all Jack had time to say before Hastings came and wrenched him away.

Wylie came and placed a withered hand on Ellen's shoulder. Ellen made a face, but didn't move, rooted to the spot. Longbranch came behind Amen, smirking evilly at Wylie. He didn't have a chance.

Without a word, Ellen followed Wylie away. Amen turned and left, following her sponsor. Amen couldn't help but notice how much shorter the wizard was and how easy it'd be to take her down. But Amen pushed the thoughts away, knowing she had to play along. She arrived at her room and was instructed to put on some different clothes for the feast. Amen examined the clothes disdainfully.

A dress, Amen thought. Yeah right. She burned them with wizard fire, leaving no smoke in it's trail. She'd wear the tunic to the feast and Longbranch would deal with it.

--

The feast would take place in the castle at Raven's Ghyll. The sponsors and warriors sat at the great table in what looked like the ballroom. There was a large table at the head of the room, two arms jutting out from the ends in a U-Shaped setting. At the head of the table, D'Orsay and many other wizards sat with pride, watching their new pets glare at each other. The White Rose took up an entire arm by themselves, and who wouldn't, in spite of their champion. Jessamine Longbranch sat, gazing happily, or evilly, at her opponents, full confidence in her warrior. Amen sat next to her, looking very unhappy about the whole thing. She stared down at the table looking miserable. Alicia Middleton was sitting next to her, watching Jack carefully.

The other arm sat the Silver Dragon supporters and the Red Rose. At the Silver Dragon section sat Iris, Blaise, Nick Snowbeard, Linda Downey, Jack, Leander Hastings, and Mercedes, in that order. Linda kept an eyes intently on Amen, as if she couldn't believe what was in front of her own eyes. Jack cast a few sad glances, but paid more attention to Ellen. Hastings completely ignored her, but what did she care? The warrior downed in misery looked up only once, taking the full scene of Jack and Linda before looking back down. The Red Rose was represented by Wylie, Paige, warrior master to the Red Rose, some wizards, and Ellen, who was seated as far away from Jack as possible.

Needless to say, neither of the three warriors ate much.

--

The feast had ended and the three houses were retiring to their chambers, preparing for their fight. The Silver Dragon house was leaving the castle, obviously having quarters elsewhere. The Red and White Rose were staying in the castle, in separate wings. Amen was walking through an empty hallway, hands stuffed in her pockets, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, she unsheathed the two knives hidden under her tunic, grabbing the other in a hold with one dagger to the throat and another to the back of the neck. No escape.

"Amen!" The other said, quietly, but filled with surprise.

"Oh," Amen sighed in relief, lowering the blades and placing them back in their scabbards. "Sorry. I'm a little . . . on edge."

"I can tell." Linda said, worry in her eyes. She looked pained with sadness in seeing the warrior like this.

There was a long silence. Amen stared into the blue-gold flecked eyes with her own green, not saying a word or motioning to. Within the next second, Linda was against her chest, arms wrapped around her mid-section. Amen didn't have anything to say.

"I hate seeing you like this," Linda said. "You look so sad."

"I am." Amen replied.

"You know tomorrow will only make you very unhappy." Linda said.

"I'm already unhappy." Amen said.

"Amen, please, I beg of you," Linda said. "Don't do this."

"Well, well," A voice came from behind. "What do we have here?"

Linda immediately let go and Amen spun around quickly, putting up an arm protectively. Longbranch was tapping her foot, the sound echoing throughout the hallway. Amen's teeth clenched and her fists turned white from gripping so hard. Jessamine looked unimpressed.

"A wizard/warrior and an enchanter?" Jessamine's brow furrowed. "Together? And of different houses? What a scandalous romance!"

"Shut you mouth." Amen said through gritted teeth.

"I must say, Amen, I'm very disappointed." Longbranch examined one of her long fingernails. "Not that we can't put in the breeding program, I knew you were like that from the start. You'd never mate, even if it were for your own guild's survival. But an enchanter? That's pathetic."

"I said shut up!" Amen said, her eyes wide with anger. They weren't the deep green they were before, they were pale and seeping with loath.

"Wouldn't want an distractions while your tearing throats out tomorrow," Jessamine pointed her nail at Linda. "Maybe I should just dispose of you now."

Amen held up a hand, crackling white, which was normally blue, with power. The intense light only made her eyes paler.

"I'll blow you to fractions if you so much as think about it." Amen said venomously.

"Try me." Longbranch dared. She'd called her bluff.

Amen's weight shifted on the balls of her feet. With her hand, she waved and arc behind her, Linda disappeared into thin air, leaving crackling power in her place. Longbranch hide her amazement behind an indifferent face.

"Transport magic?" She said, intrigued. "You're a powerful wizard, and an even better warrior. Maybe you'll be useful as a wizard after this fight."

Amen walked right up to her and stared down, hard as stone.

"You're not my sponsor," Amen growled angrily. "I'm your champion."

The angered warrior walked past the wizard, leaving her alone to contemplate the words. Amen locked her room shut and slammed a fist uncontrollably into the wall, cracking it apart, groaning from the weakened state. Amen grit her teeth and clenched her fists snow white. She hated everything about Longbranch. Especially the fact that she was right.