“What?! You got rid of the rhea division?!” Rhea Fighter exclaimed. Wizard Boy frowned but managed not to say anything.
They were at the coliseum in the capital, which was big enough to dwarf anyone, even without reference to rheas. Eighty arched gates surrounded the place, each reaching a height of 160 feet, as tall and as imposing as a giant.
But this place was not called the coliseum, nor comparable to giants, simply because of its size. No, it was because in the past, there had been a massive statue called the Colossus outside it…
Or anyway, that was what Wizard Boy told Rhea Fighter, who kept begging him for factoids about the capital. Registration for tournament participants was taking place under one of the arches. The line was obscenely long, and while they waited, the girl pestered him endlessly with the question: “Hey, what’s that?”
Still, it was better than being stared at as he stood there with a donkey wearing patchwork armor and its rhea minder. So he’d indulged her by answering—but when they had finally gotten to the front of the line, this was what they had found.
“Ah, orders from above, y’see…” Even the coliseum worker (who wore a wooden sword at his hip, evidence that he was a former competitor and victor himself) seemed bemused.
“So I can’t be in the tournament?” Rhea Fighter asked.
“No, no, you can. But this year’s tournament’s to be held without divisions. Without discrimination, see.”
“Discrimination?” Rhea Fighter said, as if the word was unfamiliar to her.
“I get it,” Wizard Boy broke in. “So humans and rheas are going to be in the same group?”
“And elves and dwarves and padfoots and every other people you can think of.”
“The hell? That hardly even makes sense.”
“Sure doesn’t.” Rhea Fighter looked at Wizard Boy, her face full of questions. But oh well. If she could register, that was good enough. There wasn’t an actual problem, as far as it went.
Having silently established this understanding, Rhea Fighter reached for the registration paperwork. Wizard Boy couldn’t help thinking it might be better for him to fill it out, though, and went to take the pen from her…
“Huh! For all your vaunted learning, it looks like you still need a dose of enlightenment, Wizard.”
A metal gauntlet reached out and stopped him.
“Guh?” The red-haired boy turned and glared at the interloper, who turned out to be a handsome man so tall Wizard Boy had to crane his neck to look at him. He wore pure-white armor (in the middle of town? Who did he think he was, that guy?) and was clearly a knight. The insignia of the sword and scales implied that he was perhaps one of the guardians of the halls of the Supreme God—a paladin.
“You can’t assume she can’t write just because she’s a rhea. Go on, young lady. Go right ahead.”
“Uh, no, I…,” Rhea Fighter started before confessing in a mutter, “I don’t write so well.”
The knight held the pen out to her, but she only looked at the ground. Here was a handsome, obviously well-intentioned man trying to help her in front of a whole crowd of people. It was hard to say no to him. So with many an uneasy look at Wizard Boy, she began writing hesitantly in the register.
Her chicken-scratch scrawl stood out like a sore thumb among the names of the knights. It must have been humiliating.
“Do you understand now? Holding preconceptions about people based on their race is nothing but bias. Bias we must undo! In other words…” The knight seemed deeply gratified to see Rhea Fighter write her own name. He crossed his arms, hmphed, and nodded. His eyes held Wizard Boy in place from well above the spellcaster’s head. “We mustn’t discriminate based on race nor think ourselves better than our fellow Pray-ers! We should all stand and compete side by side!”
“Uh…huh.”
“It’s called equality, boy. If we want an even playing field, where no one is persecuted and everyone can live comfortably, then equality is essential!”
Wizard Boy almost demanded what in the hell the knight was talking about, but he managed to keep the words down. This wasn’t the Sorcerers’ Academy nor even the hut of that accursed old rhea. The man before him was no sage, and he wasn’t that bastard “master.” In other words, this wasn’t a debate.
Hell, even if it was…
The guy was obviously completely uninterested in anything Wizard Boy might have to say, which didn’t make for much of an argument. That much, Wizard Boy had learned from reflecting on his own past behavior.
“And you, young lady. You needn’t force yourself to use a human sword. You can embrace rhea equipment without shame!”
“Huh?”
Rhea Fighter, however, reacted differently. The knight’s gaze happened upon the large blade she carried. She, for one, responded with fury. Wizard Boy guessed she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had chopped up the man in front of her.
Rheas didn’t know much about politics. They were simple farmers who lived in their shire, smoking their tobacco and tending their fields. But this rhea was an adventurer now, and she was uncommonly sensitive to mockery. One of the things she’d learned from her grandfather who’d come back from deep under the mountain. She didn’t care if she was dealing with a mad sorcerer or a soul-consuming necromancer.
I’ll kill anyone who makes fun of me! That’s being an adventurer.
The girl’s eyes narrowed, and a cold light entered them. Her right hand was a blur as she grabbed the hilt of her sword.
Wizard Boy slapped his hand over hers before she could draw her weapon and exclaimed, “I understand what you mean, sir! I’ll let your words inspire me as I seek to gain the knowledge I so sorely lack!”
He hoped his outburst would curtail the girl’s moment of rage, and indeed, it took the wind clear out of her sails. He stood squarely in front of her, almost pressing her small body back. “But I think that’s enough tutelage for today. We have more paperwork to do, and there are many people still waiting in line.”
“Ah yes, of course. Mm! Very good, boy, let yourself be inspired. I take my leave!”
The knight in the white armor, once again looking quite satisfied about…well, something…turned on his heel with a click of his spurs. Rhea Fighter watched him stride away, growling like some frumious beast and staring daggers at him.