Torva's ears twitched at the words Hagumi let slip ever so silently from within her mother's grasp, his fur standing on end as the temperature plummeted before returning. He had no idea what these tests would really be about, or how hard they might really be, but if there was no way to stray from the path that had been chosen for Hagumi, then there was only one thing for Torva to do....

“Hagumi is the most talented seraphim I have ever seen.” Torva said, placing a large hand on her mother's shoulder, “and I have faith in her abilities. You've raised a talented daughter, so if you're going to bet on anything, bet on that.”

Hagumi's mother jumped at first, a startled look in her eyes upon seeing Torva's hand on her shoulder. Tolerance aside, she had never been so close to a daeva and she felt embarrased at her reaction. Her eyes quickly softened as his words though, and she released Hagumi, wiping a tear from her eye as her other hand touched Torva's. It was warm, and surprisingly soft, and even though she could feel the power in those hands his touch was gentle on her shoulder. “You're right,” she said, standing upright. “If anyone can do it, my daughter can. Thank you. Hagumi, you've found yourself a fine man, and I'm happy for both of you.”

Blushing slightly, Torva was relieved to follow Hagumi outside, and even as the whispers and stares resumed, something about his previous encounter put Torva at ease enough to brush off the assumptions of strangers, at least for now. Approaching a fountain, the gentle babbling of the water drowned out most of the hushed whispers anyway, and as a calming breeze blew through the trees the rustling seemed to settle the remaining doubts in his heart. Still, he couldn't help but worry for Hagumi, and although he tried to hide it, their time together had opened him up to the seraphim like a pop-up book. 

Grinning sheepishly as at being discovered, he slid closer to Hagumi while she reminisced, trying to imagine a younger, smaller version of her hiding among the branches trying to sneak in a few pages of her favorite book before being discovered. “The inventor's competition, huh?” he repeated to no one in particular as he gazed towards the heavens, a lone cloud passing under the sun. “That sounds like a great idea, and I'm sure Cadogan will need the support.” Torva added, knowing how tough the crowd would be if HE entered into any competitions in the city. A lone feather danced in the air as a gust blew past, finding rest on his muzzle. A sneeze and a shake later, and it was gone, as were they, on their way to the Colosseum. 

Waving to Cadogan and Chii, Torva wondered where Neon was, or if she was having any luck talking with the Council. He knew there wasn't anything he could do personally to convince them, so he may as well take in the sights and enjoy the brief respite from battle while it lasted. After wandering slightly, the unlikely pair were able to find seats relatively close to the front. Torva wasn't sure if they had belonged to someone else, but nobody was making a move to approach the daeva, so he might as well take advantage of his undeserved notoriety. 

The crowd was already uproarious, seraphim of all shapes and sizes shouting out the names of various mages and inventors, although Cadogan's name wasn't among them. As it came closer to the beginning of the events the sound only grew louder, one particularly obnoxious seraphim beside them shouting drunken obscenities in the name of someone or another. Eventually even Torva got into the mood, shouting “Come on Cadogan! Show these featherbrains what you can do!” which only caused the drunken seraphim to shout even lounder. The two went back and forth, each trying to drown out the other. Finally having had enough, Torva lost himself in the moment and took a deep breath, bellowing in a voice that echoed throughout the stadium. “GO CADOGAN!”

The entire stadium fell silent, all eyes on Torva, and realizing that he had perhaps been a bit too excited, suddenly found himself wishing he could vanish into a puff of smoke. It was the drunken seraphim, of all people, to break the silent. Slapping Torva on the back, he stood and stretched his wings to their fullest before yelling what sounded like a battlecry. Instantly the stadium erupted into shouts as everyone realized the master of ceremonies had entered the arena, signaling that things were about to begin.

“Ladies and gentleman!” he said, magic enhancing his voice like a loudspeaker, “Welcome, to the inventor's games!”