Filler

"One of the 'comrades' that stole your mother pendant?" Questioned Mark.

"Yes," Amelia responded curtly.

"That's quite coincidental, but we're busy right now, aren't we?" Mark asked.

"*Mm hmm*," Amelia hummed back. "I was just surprised that one of his subordinates were attacked."

"Maybe it was one of his enemies? Or even a different race," suggested Mark.

"It could be. Most likely it would be the later, because only an insane human would attack one of their own during this tournament. I mean, who wants to lower their chances of victory unless their insane?" Amelia said back to his conjecture.

"There are a lot of strange things, but does who killed his subordinate really matter?" Mark said.

"It could, but for now, we can ignore it," Amelia answered.

"Where do we go now. I don't want to just stay here staring at a dead body," said Mark.

"You should pay more attention. I have already told you before that, after we come to the Imperial capital, we will look for the prince that was gathering materials. If we can't find him, then we will pay to enter the Tournament of Races and look for him there," said Amelia in a pestering voice. "Next time listen to me when I tell you something."

"I was, but I became dazed and forget," Mark said.

"Why did you become dazed?" Amelia asked.

"Because…" he stopped and said in his mind, 'I was talking to Pass,' but the words he said out loud were a little different. "You looked too beautiful," he finished.

Amelia blushed at that and said, "Come on, if we don't find him in a week, then we'll leave for the tournament." Amelia then started walking away to gather information like normal, completely oblivious to what Mark thought.

"Wait up," Mark said as he ran up to her, whispering to himself, "I don't want to be left alone."

...…

The week of searching for the prince bore results, but they didn't actually find him. All they got was bits and pieces of information about a man resembling him having been here. He was rather famous, for his attitude was very regal and confident.

His confidence could be mixed with arrogance, but not to the point where he would offend somebody. That is, if the person in question wasn't weak. The prince held no mercy for the weak of his race, going as far as to take everything they had.

Amelia had experienced his view on life personally, as one of his subordinates had taken the only thing she had left of her mother just so that the prince could gain a little power. Perhaps her view of him was distorted compared to what he was actually like, but the fact remained that he had stolen something very important to her.

"I guess we'll have to go to the tournament," sighed Amelia.

"Yes sir," said Mark.

"It's Ma'am, knucklehead," Amelia said. She felt better after talking with Mark. At least she had someone to share her troubles with, she thought.

"Okay then, ma'am, what's the tournament like?" He corrected himself sarcastically and asked.

"*Sigh*, I don't know what you were doing this entire time," Amelia complained.

'Obviously,' Mark thought, 'I was looking at you.' "Just tell me what you know, would you?"

"Fine, fine," she answered, but then complained, "You'd already know if you didn't stand around doing whatever it is that requires you to stare at nothing."

"Face gazing," Mark answered.

"What's that?" She asked.

"An art," answered Mark.

"I've never heard of it," Amelia said to him with a questioning gaze.

"Of course you wouldn't have heard of it," Mark said, "I made it up."

"So your doing nothing all day, every day?" One of her eyebrows twitched.

"No, I just told you. I was face gazing," he corrected her.

"So what exactly does that entail?" Amelia questioned again.

"As I told you," said Mark, "art."

"If you don't want to tell me that you don't do anything all day, then just say so. There's no need to make up some random excuse," said Amelia as she stopped walking. They were now in front of the teleportation diagram for the Tournament of Races.

"It's not random," Mark said.

"Yah yah, let's go," Amelia ignored his statement. "There's less than a week left until the tournament starts, and I don't want to be late because you were trying to make up an excuse for a week straight."

'It would only take that long because you won't accept the truth,' Mark thought. "Okay, ma'am, let's leave then."

The diagram that they were now in the center of is only used for one thing. It has never been used for anything else, and it probably won't be. Every one hundred years it was used to teleport someone to the gathering place of the Tournament of Races. Well, technically, it teleported humans to the teleportation diagram that would take people to the actual location of the Tournament of Races.

There was a dome surrounding it, and the only entrance was guarded. To enter, one had to pay the entrance fee. Amelia and Mark had payed and entered together.

"Hey Amelia," Mark spoke.

"Yah," she responded.

"I'm looking forward to are journey together," he turned and smiled at her.

"Me too," she answered. They both smiled, each having their own unique thoughts and feelings, yet they felt like they were connected.

They, with a smile still plastered on their faces, activated the diagram.

...…

"That marks three," said Mark.

They looked around them, like they did every time they teleport. This time the scenery was similar to the rooms on the Teleportation Line in Ventus. They couldn't see outside of the room, but they guessed that it would be similar to Ventus. This seemed to be the makeup of places where people would teleport from different places.

"Hey Amelia," Mark asked Amelia, "now will you tell me what you know about the tournament."

"Not much. It only happens every one hundred years, so there's no way for me to know that much about it. From what I do know, though, it should be a group battle between all of the races that participate," she answered.

"You really don't know much," Mark said.

"I know, that's why I want to get my mother's pendant without going to the tournament. If we could find the prince before the tournament starts, then that would be nice," Amelia spoke her hopes.

"Well, we can only try. If all else fails, and the tournaments not an option, then we can try and get it from him after the tournament," Mark spoke his thoughts.

"Let's test our luck then," Amelia said as they walked to the door of the room.