Epistem- Rise of the Slave King's Heir

by Jani Griot

  The boy knew what was coming next and assumed his brother did as well.

  “Am I to assume the ritual confirmed your suspicions?” asked the Sky Father.

  Khalif only nodded in response.

  “Purge the land. Send them to the highest realm and its light. If you can traverse Pandora, this should be a trivial matter for you, Thinker,” said the Sky Father before his image faded.

  The words echoed through the armory and the boy focused on bringing his brother another sword. The boy hoped he would soon gain a name of his own. He stared at Khalif as he approached. His brother’s head was still pointed upward.

  “Yes, Father, it will be.”

  Service Secrets

  I had never eaten at a table before. Almarine was feeding me Honorborn food in the kitchen, completely disregarding etiquette with both the kitchen slaves and the new cleaning slave. She fed me eggs and fruit. My taste buds swirled at the unexplored flavors. She handed me each new item like a wrapped present, cupping each food group individually. The bread and butter were my favorite.

  Once I was done, she pulled me back down to Ochloc’s quarters, squeezing my arm tightly. For a moment, I thought I'd done something wrong, but every time I looked at the woman at my side, she stared back at me with a smile. I wanted to return that smile, but I knew even then that I was different from her and the rest of them. That even if I could curve my lips in such a way, the gesture would lack sincerity. It would never reach my eyes as it did Almarine’s.

  The scandalous looks we received from others as we walked together were unsettling. Royal guards moved out of our way, as if we were lord and lady among Honorborn. Almarine's face went cold as she saw Ochloc and Ezra approach from the open doorway of his grand library.

  “Lady Silence,” came Ochloc’s rough voice. “Thank you. That will be all. I will take the boy from here.” He leered at Almarine through squinted eyes, as if daring her to question his command.

  Her grip on my upper arm grew tense before she released me. She remained at my side briefly before walking five or so paces behind me. Ochloc and Ezra didn’t notice her lingering presence, no doubt excited to join the ongoing festivities outside.

  Ochloc strode quickly. I no longer struggled to keep up as I once had. “Okay, boy, this will be hard for you to understand so I will bridge the gap.”

  The words were followed by images exploding into my mind. Men and women walked from the manor toward one of the jungle oases in the desert to the east. This oasis was the closest, and its eastern perimeter could be seen from the high tower of Vassilious manor. It was where the Honorborn would comfortably watch the next event.

  Ochloc continued to watch me closely as he pulled something from an inside pocket of his robe. It was a picture of the Sun Lion Diamond. The image was identical to the one Ezra described to me. It was made even more beautiful by the artist's attention to detail.

  Fetch! Ochloc snapped.

  I know now that the man thought this would be hard for me to understand. It was. The more I looked at the picture I was given, the more I felt drawn to the east. Some sort of internal force drove me, influenced by the memories implanted in my mind, like a compass directing me to my goal.

  He had shown me exactly where I needed to go and what I needed to get. I looked forward and walked straight out of the manor's eastern gate. Other slaves from the other families were already gathered, equipping themselves for the task ahead.

  I guess I was supposed to wait for a signal to go. Almarine pulled me backward as soon as my sandal touched the hot sand. She handed me a rucksack. I peeked inside and saw it was full of more Honorborn food and water skins.

  Lord Avery emerged from a nearby crowd of the Honorborn, all of whom walked toward the oasis. A beautiful woman trailed him, her auburn hair swaying gently in the wind.

  “He might be able to fight, Ochloc, but he doesn't seem to have much sense otherwise.” Avery laughed and stood at Ochloc’s side. “If it hadn't been for that old one there, he would have left with nothing to sustain him!”

  “Yes brother,” the pretty lady spoke. I’d never seen her before, but her words revealed who she was. Dara Vivek, Ochloc’s sister. “I may not have been present for the now fabled first event of the Slave Games, but this can’t be the same slave, can it? This boy seems to be on the slower side, doesn't he?” She brushed a bit of dust off her dress. “Isn't that your head slave, handing him a sword and shield? How odd. Why did she hand him the practice instruments? Does your slave not know he will be going into the jungles for this?"

  The Honorborn chatter grew distant as they headed back inside, gathering in the tower to watch. Almarine stared up at me, her face tight and lined with emotion.

  Do not let your blood devour your purity, my little light.

  A trumpet sounded behind me, signaling for everyone to start. I looked back to see five slaves running toward the jungle. The sun beamed down, heating the sands, and there was much ground to cover.

  I walked off. I’d scarcely experienced traveling the desert. My every day had been inside the manor, scrubbing and washing. The sun's relentless heat was excruciating. I tucked myself promptly underneath the cloak I wore.

  I caught up to the slaves who had departed before me, and passed numerous groups, noting a lone traveler to the south who far exceeded my pace. I looked back at the keep and grew apprehensive as I saw how small my childhood home had become. Whatever dangers I was walking into did not matter; I knew the punishment for not completing an order.

  I took one last look at the keep, then pressed forward into the unknown.

  Real. Not Recognized

  The blonde hair was not what set her apart from the girls who surrounded her. It was her height—in addition to her penetrating stare. The four other girls stood like pillars of refined muscle. Altogether, they made for an intimidating spectacle.

  She smirked while she spoke to her companions. “Welcome back, ladies.” She didn’t have to look between the girls who surrounded her to know they were still grim-faced. Their demeanors never changed when the eyes of their masters were upon them. They would never chance being caught in a joyous moment. The blonde, however, would.

  She came from the land of waves. Unlike the slaves around her, who came from the sands, or the rarer individuals who came from the skies; she was Oceanborn.

  “Don’t worry. We’ve have survived the diamond hunt twice. I’ll be surprised if they even choose us this year,” lied the young blonde. She knew more than most slaves. Far beyond how to form words, or rudimentary academics. She knew secrets. Secrets worth trading luxuries and lives for.

  She appraised her small group. The four who stood directly near her displayed the years’ worth of changes that encompassed them all. They were exceptional warriors, and after the victories of the past three cycles, they’d become fiercer.

  She looked at the twins first. The two stood in front of her, always scanning their immediate surroundings for danger. They were the youngest service members in the kingdom and for good reason. Either girl could kill a grown man single-handedly in a multitude of ways. They were worth a hundred slaves working in hospitality or any other trade. In any kingdom.

  They wore their black hair shaved close to the skull, a style that suited their short muscular frames as they guarded their friend and leader.

  The blonde’s eyes then drifted to the brunette and redhead at her back. The two couldn’t be more opposite than they looked. The brunette was potentially a genius in tactics and large spectrum warfare, while the red-haired girl was… angry.

  “I hope they pick us,” said the redhead. She was owned by the Clock family. One of the many families trying to claim the throne of Vassilious. The matter was bloody by nature, leaving the girl soaked in its essence.

  “It’s always fun picking off the idiots sent into the jungles by Ochloc and the rest of the lowborn families. Maybe we’ll at least see some competition this year,” said the redhead as she looked at a slave boy who walke
d past the courtyard wearing a cloak trimmed in white gold. The blonde looked from her companion’s hungry features, knowing exactly how deep the girl’s thirst for killing was, and toward the boy.

  The brunette stared at him. Murderously. “My lady Dara says he killed three slaves with wooden practice instruments.” This drew the blonde’s attention only slightly. It was hard for her to listen to some of the details the brunette whispered in her ear, as they were seemingly never ending and sometimes weightless.

  “Anybody can crack open a skull if they beat it long enough.” The blonde girl paused to scoff. “Probably took that lanky fool the entire day to pull it off.”

  The group stared the boy down as he passed them with a beautiful manor slave at his side. The blonde looked around the courtyard to see that not only was every slave around them looking at the two as they passed, but so were the Honorborn. She looked at the boy once more, wondering if his downward gaze and cloaked features held more than she could capture in a single glance.

  “Two closed throats and a cracked skull,” said the brunette. The blonde looked back at her with her eyebrows raised. Her mouth fell open slowly.

  The brunette leaned in, closer to the blonde’s ear. Too close. “I know what you’re thinking, I think, and he never hit a single opponent more than once. The first one he killed was not only a head service slave but was a supposed leader of the rebellion.”

  The Honorborn began to select which slaves they wanted to use in the next trial. The blonde’s attention fixed on the slave boy once more. This was the slave her master instructed her to kill. No matter the cost.

  “Dara wants him, dead or captured,” said the brunette. The blonde looked back at her to see an absent-minded look roll over her face, knowing the brunette would plot endlessly until Dara Vivek’s wishes were fulfilled.

  When the blonde tried to track the boy down again, he was gone. In his place stood two young men. One was finely dressed, as the other looked to be a manor slave. The blonde’s brow scrunched as she noted the silver hair of both. A direct sign of being born in the higher altitudes of the Sky Kingdom.

  “Who are they?” asked the blonde. More to herself than her compatriots.

  “You’ve heard of the tall one, trust me, they call him the Thinker, or the king of Pandora. He’s the one who—” started the brunette.

  The blonde’s excitement escaped her as she realized who she was looking at. “Khalif, son of the Sky Father.” She watched the two as Khalif and his young accomplice approached Ochloc at the far end of the courtyard. Their silver hair glimmered like blades as their presence split the crowd. Brothers, the blonde thought. She could see it in their strides, though Khalif had far more confidence in his gait, he and the silver-haired boy beside him seemed to step forward in tandem, in a sort of march that only those close either by nature or by blood could share.

  The group froze with the surrounding masses when the young men approached the king. Without thinking, the blonde was on the move, headed to where the conversation was being had. Her master would not forgive her if she failed to report on common knowledge of the court. Avery was close by, but his current politics drew him away from the regal and more toward the underhanded. A type of individual who found themselves far from the center of any crowd.

  Tension grew thick in the air around her as she closed in on the king and prince of a foreign land. All she could feel was her heartbeat and the subtle rhythm of her silent steps.

  “It seems I have lost a fair bit of money to you, my king,” said Khalif as he raised his left hand in greeting.

  The king glanced at the prince’s hand before baring an exceptionally toothy smile. “You and many others. Don’t worry, we have more trials ahead, many an opportunity for us to gain glory.”

  Khalif dropped his hand with a smirk and a small nod. Then looked to the boy at his side. The blonde noted that the young man stared at the floor with his fist clenched.

  “To be completely honest, my lord, I have come to pay my debts,” said Khalif. The young man stood in front of the king, with a faraway look in his eye.

  “I know this might be a trifle uncustomary, but I assumed, in the land of slaves, that trading slaves for debts wouldn’t stray far from tradition,” said Khalif. The king’s eyebrows rose then he looked over the boy at Khalif’s side.

  Khalif spoke up after the king took another long look at the boy. “I know a man of your stature would never make a purchase without verifying the caliber of the weapon,” stated Khalif.

  Ochloc only nodded. The man stood analyzing the boy so thoroughly, the blonde wondered if he could see right through him. “What sort of test would you suggest?” asked the king. Strong slaves were invaluable, especially from the Sky Kingdom.

  “It seems we are about to enter the trial that continues the search for the Sun Lion Diamond,” started Khalif. “I know the influence of that flower intimately. I’ve used its nearly endless power to open gates to realms I would never dare enter, alone or with companion.” The crowd grew silent as the man spoke on.

  “Regardless, I don’t have the numbers to send into the jungles this cycle,” Khalif said. “So I suggest the boy is given to you freely for this trial, and if he proves himself and returns with the flower or your entered slaves are all alive in the end, my debt to you is paid and we continue through the trials of this cycle’s games.”

  The king nodded. His brow creased. “And if the boy fails?” responded the king.

  Khalif smiled. “I’ll still pay my debt.” His voice was soaked in a false kindness; a transparent veil common in the political dealings of the court.

  After a long pause, and moments that dragged like cycles, Ochloc agreed to those terms, and the two shook hands. The surrounding crowd began speaking again, leaving the group of slaves to resume their murmurs in the courtyard.

  The Honorborn’s steward spoke beside the king in a loud and boisterous voice, continuing the festivities with an announcement. “My dearest Honorborn ladies and gentlemen, all alliances have been made, and the hunt shall begin in short order.” Then the man’s eyes shot toward the blonde, who stood a bit apart from the group of slaves.

  “It seems our reigning champions are still alive, and their leaders have already placed their wagers in the pool. All alliances must be documented before the trial begins and remember all outside arrangements hold no value or weight within the games.”

  The blonde shuddered and closed her eyes, as if doing so would block out the reality of what lie before her. Though she expected this very deception, it still had a sting to it worse than that of a sharp blade. Avery had lied to her again. She had been told that she and her teammates would be kept out of the games. The god of waves’ son was not known to be a man of his word, but even so, she had hoped.

  “Looks like we are being sent out to slaughter once again,” said the redhead, salivating for a fight. The blonde shook her head slowly, gritting her teeth against the rising anger in her chest. The heat of the sun shone down as she scanned the area, looking for Avery.

  She took in everything. From where she stood, she could see nearly every corner of the courtyard. At the center of the massive rectangle of sandstone walls were all the slaves being sent for the next trial. She counted approximately a hundred but knew most wouldn’t make it out of the opening skirmish. It was common at the start of the hunt for many to be trampled or killed by other slaves.

  Immediately within the walls stood the Honorborn families, all situated beneath a shaded walkway. The canopy of black tents lined the walls and powerful party members filled plush seats in every direction. Avery walked none of the pathways nor did he fill any seat.

  The blonde cursed. This gained her enough looks from the surrounding nobles for her to slowly retreat, stepping back into the mob of slaves.

  She sneered at the thought that she had to hide from anyone, but even the youngest of their masters could wipe away the assembled crowd of slaves as easily as they could wipe the sweat from their brows.
She continued to search through the Honorborn, only to come across the young boy who had been proffered to Ochloc moments prior. The boy expertly blended in with the back of the group, walking with a stiff and unyielding posture. It was as if he felt her eyes on him, stopping and looking directly at her as the group passed the entryway to the keep’s manor.

  He smiled at her before another small group passed between them. By the time the groups were gone, so was the silver-haired boy, leaving the blonde both interested and confused.

  “Nothing is real, and even less is realized,” whispered the blonde to herself. The words strengthened her will to see through the different magics cast all around. From the auras of the Honorborn to the even more powerful core of energy that sat below the throne of Vassilious Keep.

  She closed her eyes before taking in her surroundings again. The courtyard was inverted into a distorted color spectrum.

  The sky above flared an immaculate golden white that made her wince and look down and away from the sun’s power. Anything holding a life force within would reveal itself to her when she used this ability. She looked around with a sigh at her fellow slaves—powerful auras swirling with multicolored brilliance, like testing galaxies. Points of univers glimmered like stars throughout their bodies. A direct sign of the true potential of those who surrounded her.

  Then she looked to the Honorborn. Their power shined more distinctively because their auras were monochrome. Only a few Honorborn broke this trend, including the king and his daughter. Their auras were exactly like the slaves they ruled over, only theirs were in motion. The stars moved around what seemed to be black holes at their centers.

  It wasn’t until she looked to where the silver-haired slave from the Sky Kingdom had been standing that she froze. The strain of her ability made her nose bleed, but she pushed through the pain.

  The boy’s aura was a multicolored storm; where red lightning intermingled, flashing throughout the stars, the black, dusted clouds that held the stars, and the invisible chaos within.