Lastborn of Forsaken Roses

by Thomas Green

  The lord of Slupsey slid into their group. “Since Mr. Palcher has yet to grace us with his presence, I believe the honor of the announcement should fall upon the shoulders of the vice chairman, as we had agreed beforehand.”

  Without Palcher, the potential vote was six lords against six slavers and Salazar’s was the deciding one as the vice-chairman. Now, the question was, if anyone would challenge him.

  Collward smiled. “That would be a reasonable course of action, which is why we have the vice-chairman, after all.”

  Salazar nodded, hiding a smug smile. “That settles it. Do we have a prepared speech or should I make my own?”

  “Prepared, but Mr. Palcher has all copies.”

  Excellent. Now, Salazar needed to figure out what Lucas did, so his words fit the moment. He rubbed his chin, wishing the instructions he received were a notch less cryptic. He turned his gaze toward the curtain that hid tonight’s grand revelation. Beneath it stood massive, gold-railed stairs, which despite being built for the festival, looked like a natural part of the hall.

  As the time neared, Salazar scaled the stairs to stand in front of the curtain and turned around. The humongous crowd within the hall started falling silent to let him speak.

  Salazar put on one of his most radiant smiles. The wall beyond the curtain was etched with the brackets and names of the teams, revealing the pairings for the first round and the entire tournament schedule. With this in mind, he reasoned Lucas could either use this moment to send a message, to make a grand declaration or to perform sabotage. Yet he could not craft a speech to fit all three themes.

  As the room fell silent, Salazar started speaking. “I am Count Salazar d’Ielle, the ruler of Xona and all its holdings, the vice-chairman of this tournament and I hereby welcome you here. We stand at a historic moment, for this is the first time since The Upheaval that an event is to be held across city-states. I am blessed to have the privilege of standing here today. I am honored by the presence of you all. May our joint effort inspire and unite the people of the continent. May you all find that which you seek.”

  The crowd erupted into applause.

  Salazar turned to the curtain, grabbed it with his hand and spun to tear it down, revealing the wall hidden beneath.

  The curtain fell as planned, yet a loud thud echoed from behind him. The crowd's ovation died within an instant.

  Salazar peered over the crowd, seeing the faces of people became pale, and their eyes went wide. As some fainted, shouts filled the air. Salazar stood in his spot, sheer victory, and dominance reflecting in his eyes. I got it right.

  Behind him, a massive symbol shone painted in blood over the entire wall, the symbol of a sword with wings, the symbol of Palai, the God of War. Above the emblem sat a text, FREEDOM IS FOR ALL.

  Salazar turned around. As he glimpsed the corpse that lay behind him, he donned his best face of a surprise to hide his smirk. Farewell, Palcher.

  10

  Luna

  As Luna watched the grand reveal, her insides tied into a knot, her throat became stuck, and her heart hid in her stomach. This is bad.

  Using the shock to wrestle from his crowd, Raven slid to her, grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her forward. She stared at him, eyes wide as she let him drag her to the Rapacious Reavers, who stood by the side in their white and pink suits and dresses.

  Luna met Raven’s gaze with hers. “Do you realize how bad this is?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Think it will be alright.”

  “No, it won’t. This is a declaration of war. The Holy Order of Palai has declared war on all of us in here.”

  “Why is that so bad?”

  “We are on the wrong side.” Luna frowned, wondering what side was she on. Reasoning that a probable death was better than a certain one, she decided she would be on whatever team that contained the silver-haired murderer.

  Raven shrugged. “You are free, so you can’t be forced to participate in this.”

  “That means nothing since I’m already working for the slaver prince.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What will you do then?”

  She knew it didn’t matter as much as she would have liked it to. Luna shook her head and motioned to the wall containing the brackets to pivot the topic. “We fight the team from Slupsey in the first round. They should be the adventurers with brown and yellow uniforms two teams to our right.”

  Raven gazed around the room. “Do you know what type of contest will it be?”

  She scanned the painting illustrating the first competition, seeing it displayed a labyrinth, a set of arrows, a guillotine, a clock, and a stone. “A race through a maze… full of traps?”

  Raven nodded. “Trap run. These are boring.”

  She took a moment to bite back the surprise that shot up her throat. “Boring?”

  Raven turned to the leader of Rapacious Reavers, who was standing nearby. “Finubar, have you ever done a trap run with your team?”

  “We have a history of running through real mazes filled with real traps, so yes, we have a general idea.” Finubar adjusted the pink tie he wore over his white shirt, hidden beneath a pink suit. “You can leave the match to us.”

  Raven nodded. “Is there anything you would need from Luna and me for that?”

  Finubar kept a fake smile on his face. “It would be best if you didn’t get in our way. No offense but we know what we are doing.”

  “Alright. We will leave the maze to you and your people.”

  Luna grabbed Raven by the hair to drag his head down to hers. “What are you doing?”

  He shrugged. “Preparing for the match.”

  “So, you plan to sit it out?”

  “Haven’t made the plan yet.”

  Her cheeks flared up. “How about asking me before you decide what will I be doing?”

  “Will run the plan by you once I have one.”

  That’s not the point, dumbass! She raised her chin and pursed her lips.

  The festival staff cleaned the wall, and the introduction of the tournament organizers started. As they took away Palcher’s body, Luna noticed his head dangling to the side, suggesting his neck was broken while the blood came from the sliced throat.

  Anyone could have done that. Luna kept tapping her fingers on her thigh, for next were the team introductions.

  Once the event started, each team walked up the stairs and posed for a moment as their names were read. Luna paid it little attention. The turn of their team was awkward as the announcer missed her since she was unnoticeable among the heavenly beautiful Raven and the pink-suited Reavers.

  It was now the turn of the team of Xona. The announcer waved his hand over the mixture of soldiers and adventurers. “Captain of the team is Mrs. Katherine d’Airelle, members of the team are Count Salazar d’Ielle…”

  Wait, what? Luna froze in her tracks. The entire hall fell silent.

  She turned to Raven. “Did I hear right?”

  Raven arched an eyebrow. “Which part?”

  “The part where they announced Count Salazar as a participant.”

  “Is he someone famous?”

  What world are you from? She sighed. “Whatever.” She waited for the end of the team introductions. Afterward, she left her team and went for a hunt, deciding she needed to know if the silver-haired asshole was behind this.

  Luna kept cursing as she was advancing up the stairs to the higher balconies of the grand hall. While the tight dress with a long skirt did make her appear almost lady-like, it was not tailored for walking at a faster pace.

  Once she reached the upper floors of the mansion that held the festival, she started sniffing, searching for the distinct scent of blood. The corpse was fresh, and she figured there was no way the murderer could have not gotten stained by blood when arranging the body atop the curtain.

  Her sense of smell did not fail her, and she soon sensed the faint fragrance of blood in the air. She followed its invisible path. The trail led her to the highest levels
of the building.

  The stinging stench of pepper punched her nose, making her cough. She looked around and found a bloodied apron and gloves thrown into a corner of a supply room. Pepper covered the entire area. No trace that would hint her to the next step presented itself.

  Where did he go? Think! The roof. She retraced her path and soon noticed a ladder to the roof standing in another maintenance room.

  I can’t climb with this dress. With a frown, Luna reached for her dagger and cut the bottom part of the gown to loosen it, which freed her legs for wider steps. She hoped it would look like a skirt that was supposed to be wide anyway.

  Pain shot through her with every move as she scaled the ladder, but the fear of missing the meeting with the man who almost killed her made her continue. The small door on top was locked, but the hinges were rusty, so she forced them open and climbed onto the roof. She earned herself an explosion of blinding pain for her effort.

  The cold winter wind overcame the heat of the festival beneath within a second, freezing her mind and soul. Snow covered the tiles while a large garden filled with tall trees surrounded the mansion. At the back of the greenery stood the arena complex, a massive round shadow looming over the surrounding city. Within the moonlight, all seemed calm and peaceful. She saw no movement and heard no sound other than the pleasant music of the orchestra playing in the halls under her.

  With her teeth clattering and entire body trembling, she sought for tracks within the snow. She found none. Luna scanned the surrounding area once more, mapping the disposition of the mansion within her mind, hoping to get an idea of what to do.

  A male voice echoed from behind her. “Fancy night, isn’t it?”

  Her heart froze and her insides clenched while goose bumps covered every inch of her skin. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Would you stop acting like I murdered you?”

  Ha… ha… ha. Luna tried to turn, but her body refused. Terror paralyzed her very core. An eternity passed before she managed to pivot her head to see him.

  The silver-haired man, dressed in a black tunic, sat on the roof, leaning against a chimney and holding a large jug. “Name’s Lucas.”

  Luna’s tongue lay dead in her mouth. “L… u… n… a.”

  “Cheers to that.” He raised the jug to his lips. “Catch.” He tossed it to her.

  Luna tried to make her hands move, but they didn’t listen. The jug hit her in the chest, bounced off and crashed onto the roof. Wine splashed around like fresh blood, staining her dress.

  Lucas shook his head and made another jug appear in his hand. “This is getting awkward.”

  She focused on moving her hand. She couldn’t.

  He kept drinking, unfazed.

  She had no idea how much time passed before the feeling of terror turned into mere dread. When her mind regained its function, she muttered. “Sorry.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Drink?”

  “Yeah.” Luna stretched out her hand.

  Lucas tossed her the jug and made another one appear in his hand.

  She caught it to down half in one go. Cheap wine.

  He smiled. “I will give you the basics. I let you live, for as long as you are useful, which is kind of me, I know. By being useful, I mean you will do tasks for me. There will be about one to three tasks at each site of the tournament. Here in Grimdawn, I need you to find where they hold the crystal they use to power the arena barrier that protects the audience during the match. On top, the amount of supplies they move into the arena doesn’t match its size. Find whatever hides beneath the complex.”

  Luna gulped. “Okay.”

  “Your match is in two days, so we meet at midnight of the day after. And when I say midnight, I mean midnight. You were here an hour early today.”

  “Sorry.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I allowed you to ask questions.”

  Luna did her best not to stutter. “Since this makes me an agent of the Order, is there anything I should know about it?”

  Lucas laughed. “There’s not much to it. When you don’t know what to do, stand and fight. The rest is mere hubris.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I once heard teaching of a Palai priest, and he spoke of harmony and peace.”

  “Yes, Palai is the God of War and Peace alike. But we’ve got it split. The priests engage in the peaceful part of the religion while we, the military, focus on the war part. Till next time.” He vanished.

  Luna blinked, but he wasn’t there. She finished the jug, preferring the free alcohol to nothing before returning to the festival. Marks of red wine stained her white dress all the way to her waist. I need to find Raven.

  As she slid down the ladder down into the mansion, her muscles gave out, sending her crashing to the ground, screaming in pain. Her entire body felt frozen from the combination of the backlash and the icy wind. Her feet, wet from the snow, were so cold she wondered if they wouldn’t fall off and everything hurt, especially the left arm she fell on.

  Nobody heard her over the music. She lay on the ground, hoping somebody would pass by and help her. Nobody heard her whimpers, nobody saw her, leaving her lying on the ground like a pile of misery. Dozens of minutes later, she gathered enough strength to crawl to her feet and return to the main hall, limping all the way to the bar. Raven was gone.

  She paid him little thought and ordered a drink, a large and strong one.

  A familiar male voice disrupted her thoughts from straight next to her. “Glad to see you are enjoying the evening.”

  “Enjoying? This event is horrendous. Even your shitty sales parties were better, Jean Pierre!” Wait… She turned around to face him. “I am so sorry,” she whispered when she saw his clean-shaven face.

  Jean Pierre was tall, had medium length and black hair that fell on his shoulders in perfect cascades. His eyes were gray and suit luxurious. He smiled at her without a sense of irony. “Don’t be, for we all need to become an adult at some point. Although I would have preferred being told that you desire to leave rather than finding out you staged your own disappearance.”

  She almost shouted at him for not being angry. She was used to those taking angry beatings, verbal or physical. That was easy. The gentle kindness wasn’t, making her guilty on top of freezing and in pain. “I… didn’t know what to say or how to say it. I am sorry.”

  “It is all right.” He pulled his chair closer, ordering them each the most expensive drink the menu offered. “How’s your adventure going, so far?”

  She peered into her glass, enjoying the brown liquid splashing around as she toyed with it. Everything she had tried since she left from the smithy backfired or failed. She had no money and slept in a prison cell next to a slave. Oh, and she was doing the bidding of a lunatic, for else he would kill her. She forced out a fake smile. “It’s going fine. What brings you here?”

  If Jean Pierre caught the desperate tone of her voice, he didn’t signal noticing. “The need to sell my wares and I am looking forward to how my new product line promotes itself.”

  She didn’t like the way he said that. “New product line? Why do I feel it involves me?”

  He laughed. “Because it does. I had the new equipment for you and your friend’s delivered to your cells. I am confident neither of you will have any complaints when I use you as my walking advertisements in exchange.”

  Always the businessman and no, I cannot say no to this. “How will you call it? And how did you find out I would be participating in the tournament?”

  “I haven’t decided yet, for I need to see how the first match goes before I name it. In any case, I expect you to perform a show worthy of my craft.” He smiled in a calm, professional manner. “And I know from James.”

  Luna’s eyes narrowed. “Will I get a share of the profit?”

  “Yes, so make sure you do sufficient jobs at making my wares look like something everyone must possess. I shall deposit your share into the Bank of Xona under your name.�
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  Luna chuckled. “I have the feeling you won’t have what to deposit.”

  “You underestimate me. How is your team?”

  “It’s alright. Raven is good, and the rest is… acceptable.” Except for Samantha, for she was not acceptable in any meaning of the word. The mere thought of her running her fingers by Raven’s wounds made her want to grab a chair and smash someone’s head with it.

  “What hides behind the word good?”

  Luna stretched her neck, thinking of what to say. She wanted to lie, but his gentle smile convinced her otherwise. “He may have gotten trashed by James, but he’s either unbelievably strong, or I’m so weak I can’t judge the difference between us.”

  Jean Pierre offered her a compassionate smile. “The world is bigger than it looks. And a lot more dangerous than the stories say.”

  She sighed. “I’ve found out. I always thought I would be this awesome, invincible hero who changes the world. But I’m barely strong enough to be the sidekick of a slave gladiator.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “To start is always difficult, but if you keep going, you will be fine.”

  “I don’t think I will.” She cleared the tear from the corner of her eyes. “I’m not good enough.”

  He pierced her veil of sadness with his genuinely happy laughter. “Nobody ever is. After all, this Raven might be good, but James delivered him a lesson in mortality without needing his armor repaired. You are underestimating yourself.” He reached into his suit to pull a large pouch, handing it to her. “Which reminds me that James asked me to deliver you this.”

  Luna stared at the leather pouch, breathless. She leapt up to hug him. “Thank you… for everything.”

  Jean Pierre grunted in pain as she almost broke his bones.

  Sorry! Luna loosened her grip and bit back her sobs. “Thank you. Say James I thank him.”

  Jean Pierre smiled and rose to leave.

  Luna sat down, overwhelmed. The combination of words caring father and James didn’t belong into a single sentence, yet that’s what she thought of right now. While it would not have improved her life, a pouch full of money was enough to get her drunk tonight and perhaps allow her to purchase the calming toxins instead of having to steal them.