This… [i]college[/i], as the two called it, seemed to be one of the strangest places Saria had ever laid her eyes on. As far as she knew, a college was a place of learning and study. However, this “college” was built like a castle, but still didn’t exactly seem like one. 

“Follow us, please.” The man motioned towards the building. Saria did, however reluctantly. She was wary of these magic-using individuals, who seemed to carry technology that surpassed anything she had ever seen before. She saw that others, accompanied by their own pairs of guides, were making their way towards the entrance of the college. 

“Oh, and I almost forgot. My name is Doctor Jace Merkenheimer. The gun-lady is Ms. Emil Jackson.” Saria realized that Ms. Jackson was still pointing that strange device at her, what Doctor Merkenheimer referred to as a “gun.” 

[i]Maybe it’s some sort of projectile device? Like a sort of hand-sized crossbow?[/i]

Her interest wandered elsewhere, however, as they finally entered the college itself. The interior of the college was, well, clean, to say the least. No rats crawled about, no piles of refuse and trash littered the floors, and there seemed to be no discernible smell. Merkenheimer was in front, leading them through what seemed like miles upon miles of twists, turns, ups, downs, and circles. It was truly disorienting. All the while, Ms. Jackson followed from behind, and Saria could almost feel the barrel of the gun brushing against her armored back. It gave her an uneasy feeling, like she was being herded as cattle was.

[i]No matter. If this is a trap, they’re trapped in here with me, not the other way around.[/i]

Finally, after rounding another corner, they came to a peculiar door. Merkenheimer stepped aside, and motioned towards it. Saria realized that this was her cue to proceed. She pushed open the door and stepped into a massive, circular room which seemed to be the place the other participants had filed into. Each contestant stood on top of their own podium, and Saria noticed two empty ones, each next to the nearly sixteen-foot tall brute, who could barely fit onto the thing. She took her spot on one of the podiums next to him, intending to show that she wasn’t intimidated by his bulk. 

[i]Worst come to worst, I could just cut the tendons in his leg; good luck catching me then.[/i]

It seemed that all of these contestants, in some way at least, were all warriors. The first combatant who caught her attention was the knight who wielded a halberd. She’d fought and killed her fair share of knights, and for some reason, knights in general seemed to annoy her. They possessed their faux code of “honor”, which they hid behind in order to perform deplorable acts of cruelty. However, this knight seemed different somehow. He seemed… tired, exhausted, distant from such tales of heroism. 

[i]Interesting, a knight who does not behave as a knight. I wonder if he still fights like one.[/i]

The next contestant who had peaked her interest was the lady who seemed to surround herself with a permanent aura of ice and frost. Or maybe that was just her personality. What had interested Saria, however, was that this lady seemed to be the complete opposite of herself. Her flowing white clothes contrasted Saria’s black armor, and she seemed to be the cold, analytical type, which clashed with Saria’s fiery temper.

[i]Ah, she must be quite the fighter, refusing to wear armor. Either that, or she’s just foolish.[/i] 

Another contestant who had caught her attention was a strange, armored figure across the room. He looked like a knight, especially the helmet, but not quite. For one, he seemed to carry almost no melee weapons, as far as she could see. Instead, he seemed to carry larger versions of the “gun” Ms. Jackson had threatened her with earlier. Another peculiarity was that his armor was not that of a knight. It seemed to be made of some other material unknown to her. He was most certainly not from her time, and as Saria continued to look around, she wondered if any of these combatants were from her own world, and how many had heard of the Blood Devil. 

She tightened her grip on the Red Blade, feeling its strange energy flow through her. It gave her a sense of power. Maybe that was the blade itself, its fabled Jogun construction working its magic on her. 

An old woman had begun talking, and Saria had only picked up little tidbits of words and phrases, at least the ones that caught her attention. 

“There may be dragons, demons, gods, or giants, treasure or torture, but I do know there will be fighting.” 

[i]Good, that is all I need.[/i] 

She was directed to pick up a strange heart-shaped object, which was bound to a wire to act as a necklace. She cautiously picked it up, and slipped it on beneath her armor. Apparently, their souls were connected to the things, so they had better protect them. A thick mist began to fill the room, and Saria struggled to see through the dense fog, which even obscured the massive brute who still stood next to her on his podium.

Saria took a deep breath, as she usually did before an important task. Even with a raging personality such as hers, it did help to calm down and clear her head once in a while. As her visibility decreased even more, she hung onto her blade, and exhaled.

[i]It’s time to begin.[/i]