“He is also blind in one eye.” Jora’h grinned at Nira’s expression of shock. “A laser spark caught him in the cornea. But though it darkened his sight, he claims it improved his overall vision.”

The jousters furiously fired their lances, tilting and slashing with their mirrors, rotating shields to prevent the lasers from blasting through the transparent patches. A flurry of beams crisscrossed the misty air. Nira was astonished that no spectators were killed by stray reflections.

“You will read about our jousting when you study the Saga of Seven Suns. I am no rememberer, but let me tell you a tale from our history.”

Nira laughed. “Surely the Prime Designate of the Ildiran Empire can spin a story as well as anyone else?”

“It is about another Prime Designate from the past, so I am familiar with the poignancy and the political relevance.” He looked at her, questioning. “You understand that before he becomes Mage-Imperator, a Prime Designate is required to have many offspring? These then become Designates on other colony worlds as well as noble leaders of the various kiths. Long ago, however, the firstborn son of a Mage-Imperator was incapable of siring children. When a Prime Designate has so many mates, it becomes apparent very quickly if he is sterile.”

“That’s terrible,” Nira said.

Jora’h’s vibrant gold hair flickered around his face. “If a Prime Designate were unable to bear a successor, then the future of our political rule would be in doubt. Rather than letting the other Designates intrigue and squabble over who should be the replacement heir, the sterile Prime Designate called a tournament of Ildiran jousting. All sons of the Mage-Imperator could compete to see who was best equipped to become leader of the Ildiran Empire.”

“You used a… a game to decide a matter of dynastic importance?” Nira wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

Jora’h’s smoky eyes gleamed in the light. “Ildiran jousting is no simple sport, Nira. It requires athletic ability, as well as speed of thought, strategy, learning how to cooperate with your enemies against a third foe.”

In the arena below, Cir’gh scored another tremendous blast. He scorched a reptilian steed so badly that its rider bowed his crystal lance and raised his mirror-painted shield in surrender, backing out of the competition. The defeated knight returned to the side of the arena so that the two remaining jousters could battle out the championship.

Jora’h continued, “The sterile Designate wanted his jousting tournament to be a grand event, a spectacular pageant that would be remembered for centuries to come. Unfortunately, it ended in tragedy.”

Nira was listening now, paying only slight heed to the laser battle going on below. “Why? What happened?”

“The sterile Designate’s most beloved brother was in the match when a mirror-shield broke in half, and the fragments sent beams flying into the audience. It killed him, his opponent, and three spectators.”