by J. A. Ludwig
Aya fears what these strangers may want from her. These men have worse plans for you than the Arena. Aldur’s words echo in her head as the presence of the men on either side of her makes her heart pound. She understands the implication.
On occasion, when healing with Iria, they’d come across a woman in a neighboring village with injuries Aya couldn’t understand. The pain was physical, yes, but the woman’s mind was also deeply wounded. There was a soul pain here. She bothered Iria for an explanation for hours, until he relented and explained. “Some men only view women as useful in one way,” he told her. “Whether the woman wants to or not, men with a specific mindset would force themselves on them, leading to these sorts of unusual injuries.”
Were these two men with such a mindset?
“Who are you?” the one to her right asks, curiosity tinged with excitement like a child discovering a new toy.
She stays silent.
The one on her left leans forward, trying to see her face. “We’re not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” His voice is calm, soothing.
She swallows but raises her head a fraction, so her voice isn’t muffled. “Aya Flandeen.”
“Where are you from, Aya Flandeen?”
“Foula Valley,” she says, turning away from his pale blue eyes.
The one on her right leans forward to see her face as well, with golden eyes. She finds it strange they’re twins yet have different eye colors.
He smiles gently. “You’re a long way from home, Aya Flandeen.”
The one on her right holds out his hand. “My name’s Kylii Lakiin.”
The one on her left holds out his hand. “My name’s Daniil Lakiin.”
Aya lifts her head up. If they had ill intentions, would they bother introducing themselves? She hesitates, staring at each brother’s hand before placing her hands in theirs. They smile and move to sit in front of her, so she doesn’t have to keep turning her head.
“What kind of mage are you?” Daniil asks.
She looks at him confused. “I’m not a mage.”
“Of course you are. They wouldn’t put you in here with us if you were anything less,” Kylii says.
Daniil slaps his brother on the shoulder. “Maybe they aren’t called mages in Foula Valley. What did they call you when you arrived?”
“Rare Kind.”
“No, no, what did they call your magic?”
“Life Healing.”
The brothers whistle, impressed. “Haven’t seen one of those before. Heard stories though,” Daniil says.
Kylii leans his head to the side. “Unlucky for you, though. Healers are usually the first to die.”
“Easy targets.”
Kylii faces his brother. “How many healers do we have left after that last big bout?”
“In this block?” Daniil crosses his arm to think. “I think there’s three left...maybe four. Didn’t we lose...what’s his name?”
“Ferjord I think? Yeah, got his head smashed in by a mace.”
“That’s right. I almost forgot.”
“How could you forget? It happened right in front of us.”
Aya’s heart drops. She doesn’t have much experience fighting, but hearing the brothers’ talk makes her even more nervous about tomorrow.
Daniil senses her unease. “You’ll be fine. We’ll take care of you. We Rare Kinds need to stick together.”
“Like you took care of Ferjord?” Aya snaps. Her eyes widen and a blush fills her cheeks.
Kylii laughs loudly and nudges his brother. “I like her! Sharp tongue.”
Hitting his brother hard in the side, Daniil smiles at Aya. “We’ll do our best to help you, but you’ll have to learn to protect yourself, too.”
Aya nods. “How long have you been fighting here?”
Kylii raises an eyebrow and thinks. “Well, we’ve been in the Arena since we were ten ages old.”
“Ten?” Aya stares at them in shock. “How?” Seera said people usually die almost immediately. Was she just trying to scare us?
Daniil shrugs his shoulders. “Our mother died when we were young, our father was missing most of our lives, and Arena slave traders picked us up. We learned how to survive.”
“Our magic is unique. Daniil is an ice mage.”
“Kylii is a fire mage. We’re opposing mages who, unlike others, gain power from the other instead of losing it. When we’re apart, we’re weak.”
“When we’re together, we’re strong.”
“I didn’t know that. About opposing mages, I mean.” Aya looks from one to the other. “Thank you. For being kind to me.”
Kylii snorts. “Did you expect us to attack you?”
Daniil gives his brother a look, before smiling at her, comfortingly. “Like we said, we Rare Kinds have to stick together.”
Aya smiles. A wave of relief flows through her, but now she peeks across the cell at the magic user with silver eyes. He’s been silent this whole time. She can’t make out the expression on his face.
The brothers move back to their beds and soon fall asleep, snoring lightly. Aya stays sitting on the bunk, slowly drifting off to sleep.
Chapter 23
Screaming snatches Aya from sleep’s sweet release.
Fresh flesh in other cells are crying out in fear, waking from nightmares of death and violence. They call for the gods to save them or beg for the workers to release them. Some of those who’ve been in the Arena for years yell at them to be silent, but the cacophony continues.
Aya glances around and spies the silver-eyed magic user still sitting on the floor. He’s peering through the bars of the cell, unmoving.
She wonders why he never reclaimed the bed. Is it pity? A chance for me to have a little comfort before dying in the games in the morning?
She hears movement from the other side of the cell and sees Daniil and Kylii are awake. Daniil is sitting up, leaning his back on the bars of the cell. Kylii remains lying down, but his eyes are open.
They all listen as the voices down the hall shred the silence. Aya wishes she could do something to calm the terrified slaves, but she doesn’t know how, being trapped in a cell herself.
A solemn voice sings from one of the cells across from Aya. The resonance fills the cavern, overpowering the cries. It’s an older slave, his hands shaking from old age and his face covered in wrinkles and scars. He sings with his head leaning back on the wall and his eyes closed.
The words are in a foreign tongue, but even the harsh consonants don’t change the soothing power of the melody. The old slave fills his voice with emotion to emphasize the message he’s trying to send. Slowly, the sobs and voices calm.
As she listens, a memory rises in her mind. A time when she’d been very sick, and her parents feared the worst. Even Iria could do nothing to ease her pain. She remembers her mother singing a song similar to the one she hears now. The words are different, but the melody is the same.
A slave in the same cell with the singer joins in, no emotion on his face. They sing in duet for a while, their voices blending seamlessly. A third voice from farther down the hall joins in, followed by a fourth from the opposite end. The three new voices sing softly, allowing the older slave’s voice to lead them. But all four voices echo throughout the cellblock, bringing a sense of calm.
Aya rises from the bed and moves to the bars. One of the slaves singing sits in the cell across from her. A new voice joins in with the song and her eyes move to the next cell. A man kneels against his bed and prays as he sings, tears rolling down his cheeks. Sitting behind the man is Rava, stroking her sister’s hair, dried tears on her cheeks. Mava’s head is on her sister’s lap and she stares out into the darkness of the cellblock. They mouth the words at first, then find their voices and join in the song.
“What language is that?”
Daniil walks to Aya’s left side and leans close to her ear. “They’re singing for the gods to watch over them as they fight. It’s a rare gift the survivors giv
e to the fresh flesh. A chance for hope and calm before they die.” His expression is grim as he stares at the elder slave. “Guvie is the oldest slave to survive the games. He’s been fighting since the Blood King took the city and bastardized this Arena. He started singing for the fresh flesh many years ago. He sees it as a way to honor those who die in this place.”
“He’s survived this long?”
“Don’t let that old bastard fool you with those shaking hands. He’s brilliant with a sword and stubborn as any man I’ve ever met. He’d probably be able to fight death himself if he had to.”
“They all know that language?” Aya asks, gesturing at the others.
Daniil shakes his head. “You’d have to ask those singing along or Guvie himself. Kylii and I aren’t from these lands.”
Aya presses her face to the bars enough to see the silver-eyed magic user’s face. It’s empty of emotion, but his eyes prove he’s listening to each word of the song as much as the fresh flesh.
“Do you know what they’re saying?” she calls to him.
He turns his head away. His brow furrows.
Kylii walks to Aya’s right side and leans close to her ear, keeping his voice low. “You saw him fight today, didn’t you?”
She nods, facing Kylii. “Who is he?”
“Yme Gurek. He’s an Elemental Mage. He controls all of the elements of the world. Water, air, and earth.”
“And fire?”
“He lost that magic when he was brought here,” Daniil says. “The Blood King had it taken away from him.”
“Part of his magic was taken away? How?”
Daniil shrugs, eyeing Yme. “Probably one of the King’s few loyal mages. It was too dangerous to let him continue using it.”
“Even with the bars blocking magic?” she asks.
The brothers make impressed noises.
“You sense it, too? The fear is always that a Rare Kind may be immune to the blocking magic in the metal. I don’t think they took the fear seriously until he was brought here.” Daniil taps the bars. “His full magic must’ve been amazing, to scare these workers. They increased the magic in our bars as a precaution.”
“If they were so afraid of him, why didn’t they just kill him?”
“They tried! But he survives everything they throw at him. Yme is the champion of the Arena, a real crowd-pleaser even without his fire. Everyone comes hoping to see him fight.” Kylii walks back to his bed and lies down.
“The Blood King only comes to see him...and fresh flesh. You’ll probably see him tomorrow. He likes to watch the newcomers die,” Daniil says, walking to his bed.
“Why?” Aya asks, facing the brothers. Their empty stares urge her to go on. “Why does the Blood King want us dead? What’s the purpose of this Arena?”
“Power, mostly,” Daniil answers.
“But also fear. He likes to keep people afraid of him. Makes them easier to control,” Kylii adds, yawning. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you alive until you’ve grown used to this place.”
Aya wants to talk with them more, but the brothers fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows. She moves back to the third bed and lies down. She listens to the singing, letting the calm words soothe her back to sleep.
Yme stands and makes his way to the back of the cell, away from the light of the torches. He sits in the darkness, crossing his arms and legs. He struggles to conceal it, but she catches the tears rolling down his cheeks, even in the shadows of the cell.
Chapter 24
I stand in a desert.
The sky is black, and the wind is cold. I can’t see anything in the great expanse of nothing but sand.
The ground around me trembles, slowly moving up and down. The earth rolls like waves creating vast hills. It stops, leaving me standing on top of one of the newly created hills.
The ground beneath me trembles again. A large mound rises from the earth directly in front of me. Light creeps through cracks in the mound and an orb emerges. It shoots up into the sky as the earth where it escaped heals. The orb flies higher and higher into the sky, becoming a star.
The quaking intensifies, throwing me to the ground, and more mounds rise around me. Orbs of light explode from the mounds and join the first in the sky. Some rise quickly, shooting into the sky while others rise gradually like smoke.
One orb rises from the ground before my feet. It rises to my eye level and stops. Images move inside of it. I stare deep within it and see an unknown city burning. Flames tear through the homes of dozens. Figures run through the flames, grabbing any who flee and leading them to safety. Others line up, their arms moving in tandem, magic throwing water onto the fires.
I reach out to touch the soon-to-be star, but it shoots up into the sky, joining the others rising all around me.
Inside of another star, men on a large ship sail through a terrible storm, working ferociously to keep the ship afloat. The captain of the ship stands at the front, stoically staring ahead. Next to her, a younger man laughs into the face of the storm, waving his hat over his head in excitement. A small smile forms on the captain’s lips at the young man’s enthusiasm. Then this star rises, and is gone.
A man’s battle-worn face floats inside another, and I see he is fighting against a number of soldiers in dark red armor. Their faces are full of jeers and mockery. The man’s anger is palpable, seeping from the star like a perfume.
Still another shows a woman, her skin wet with sweat, working a great forge inside the belly of an old and powerful volcano. She works the fires with a tenderness that shows respect for the power in her hands. She waves a young boy forward to help her. His eyes widen with awe at her strength. She places him in front of her and helps him hammer the metal.
Floating, the remaining stars rise from the earth. Each star is one of a million different lives at different points in time and place. They rise to the sky, filling the darkness with hope and pain, life and death. The land below is cast in a beautiful array of colors and light.
A sudden great earthquake knocks me to the ground. I manage to land on my knees and steady myself as the earth rumbles beneath me.
Hills in the distance grow into mountains, penning me in. A second earthquake splits the mountains in two and a large, dark shadow emerges from beneath the earth to stand high above the land and me.
I know this shadow. I’ve seen it many times in my dreams, in my nightmares. The shadow’s eyes are so black they stand out against the dark of its body.
The shadow gazes up at the stars in the sky and moves slowly towards me, but I can’t tell if it’s aware of me yet. A star rises in front of the shadow’s eyes. The sound of laughter echoes from the orb of light. Reaching out, the shadow grabs it and pulls it close. Curious, the shadow leans its head from side to side.
Then it crushes the star in its immense hand, the sound of laughter changing to screams of pain before quieting. Opening its hand, the star falls to the earth as dust. The shadow watches it fall, then reaches out for another.
My heart drops in my chest. I felt it. I felt the lives of those inside the star disappear. So easily the life was taken, with no warning and no effort.
The shadow reaches out for more stars, crushing any unfortunate enough to rise within its reach. Its black eyes are attracted to the first star that emerged from the earth. Even after it reaches the sky, it continues to grow. What’s inside is obscured from the ground.
Growing tired of trying to reach the large star, the shadow’s gaze lowers to the earth below its feet...to me.
It walks towards me, each footstep shaking the land, staining the earth black.
Reaching for me, the shadow bends down to the ground. I try to run, my mind filling with images of those immense hands crushing stars. I know if I am caught, I’ll be crushed into dust.
The shadow’s heavy footsteps crack the earth and a familiar sound enters my ears: the sound of chains. Rising from the cracks, chains move with the shadow like serpents, slithering towards me. A chasm o
pens in front of me, trapping me. I turn to the shadow, its hand and the chains moving closer and closer.
An explosion of light fills the night sky as the first star falls from the sky. The shadow tries to turn as a giant fist of light smashes into its head. The shadow is thrown to the ground with such force that a great wind slams into me, knocking the breath from my lungs and throwing me into the chasm. I scream and claw the air, trying to grab onto anything, but I’m falling in a black pit of nothingness.
A warm hand catches me and lifts me gently back to the surface again. I gaze up at my savior.
The figure of light leans down to my eye level. I see the life of the star in its brilliant eyes made of white flames. This is the other figure from my dreams. The reason nothing could be seen in the first star was because it wasn’t a life. It was a being of immense power.
While the being of light assures itself of my safety, the shadow attacks from behind, catching it off guard. The two titans crash into the ground. Hills are flattened beneath them. I try to gain distance, but the shaking earth keeps me off my feet.
The shadow overpowers the being of light and lifts it high above its own head. Its black eyes spot me, and it throws the being of light towards me. I know I can’t escape as the glowing giant lands on top of me, the pressure crushing out my breath.
Chapter 25
Aya sits up gasping.
I can’t see! Why can’t I see?
Her heart threatens to burst from her chest, her lungs tightening and her gasps turning to wheezes. She reaches in front of her, feeling nothing but air. Turning sharply, her hands hit stone and she traces the cool rock with her fingers. Her mind races, she strains to remember where she is.
The darkness is disorienting, but her sight adjusts slowly. Light from torches casts shadows on the walls, and everything rushes back to her. She’s in her cell beneath Bloodfall Arena. She wasn’t crushed, it was a nightmare. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she sighs. It’s the first time the two large shadows from her nightmare have been separate from the others.
