“We can do this one of two ways H777. You let him go, we sit together peacefully, you’ll answer some questions, and then be returned to your grouping.”
One of her eyebrows begins to rise, she tilts her head to the side ever so slightly.
“Or - these soldiers will forcibly sit you down and mop up the poor doctor’s blood, right alongside your own. Your choice, I’m not particular either way.” She says, her voice nonchalant. Turning now to examine her nails, picking something off one.
There is little choice here, I do not want them to take the weapon, not when the Warden is so close at hand. Releasing the man, I slide the laser scalpel up into my sleeve and approach the chair. He scampers to the ground and runs into the room behind us, the door slides closed after him, a metallic click as it locks.
“See, that wasn’t so difficult.” She says pointing to the chair, still not looking at me. It does not bother me though; I do not want to see the filth those eyes must hide. To me and some of the others, she is worse than the masters, a traitor to her people.
Reluctantly, I decide to sit – only after checking the arms of the chair, making sure there weren’t any hidden tricks. I will play along for now, wishing to know her questions, Ulima must always gather information, it is part of how the forsaken survive.
“First, congratulations on setting not one - but two records on your first official challenge. I must say, there has been quite a lot of intrigue surrounding you.” She says still picking at her nails, her tone sounding bored.
There is something strange about her demeanor though that I can’t quite place, she doesn’t seem hostile to me, not openly. I think she is more interested than she is letting me believe. Nail picking is some kind of distraction to feign disinterest, one I will not fall for, she would not have brought me here just to watch her groom herself. Something else did strike me though, struck within the depths of me more so, she said first official challenge, was the slaughter of our people not worthy of such a name? I feel the slumbering demon of anger starting to stir in the recesses of my mind, the hot breath of it rising.
“You’re not curious?” she asks, her tone almost playful now.
“Not really.” I say, I do not want to play into her hand – even though there is indeed curiosity in me.
She turns to look at me now, her gaze pierces me, almost unnervingly so. Her eyes do not seem natural, there is more hidden in them than just sin.
“You’re lying.” She smirks - my jaw tenses.
Turning from her gaze, I look at the soldiers who stand guard and see they have not moved, I study their armor as I have little chance to look upon it. I look for flaws but see none readily. I ponder if the laser scalpel can cut through the metal, regret filling me for not testing it more while I had the chance.
“Alright, I’ll tell you anyways, since it’s related to why I wanted to speak with you.” She says with a sigh, going back to picking her nails “You, H777 have set two records thus far, surviving the first wave of the Grand Hunt being the first, and…” she begins but my mouth betrays me.
“The other waves of hunters…” I begin, clenching my mouth shut, I have shown weakness. I know she has seen it as well because her eyes search me now, the musings of a grin forming upon her cruel lips.
“I am getting there, patience H777. The first wave is designed to not be possible to survive. Yet here you are, and subsequently the other waves fared better than expected as well.”
My ears perk up at this, as I did not see Nekam or his children Neeba and Nevari on the field. I almost speak again, but I hold my tongue. She sneaks another glance at me, then returns to her nails.
“Would you like to know why they fared so well, or why it’s designed to be impossible?” she asks, now turning to look me in the eyes “Or is there a more pressing question you have?”
I stay silent. Hoping she may reveal more in her frustration, it is a tactic Artemius once taught me - although I seldom have had the chance to use it.
“The silent treatment, not as much fun.” She groans.
She waits for a full minute before she speaks again, letting the silence soak into my marrow, her eyes searching past the flesh.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Well, we can’t just keep sitting here waiting for you to speak.” She says looking back to her nails “If you’re not going to talk, I guess we can do this the old-fashioned way.”
The statue soldiers move suddenly towards me in unison, but I am ready for them - I expected this. I leap from the chair onto the desk, running straight at the Warden, she is within my striking range, her soldiers too far to protect her. As I cross the midway point of the desk, a shield of light emerges, smacking me, sending me toppling backwards. Sekat what was that? I look closer and see it is similar to the one they had in the Colosseum.
One of the metal soldiers grabs me and slams me back into the chair holding me in place, I flick my wrist and the laser scalpel comes out - I press the buttons in quick succession until a small red blade appears, thrusting to slice the metal hand. The other soldier grabs my wrist as it moves, slamming it down, prying the weapon from my grasp. As he does, I notice something about their armor, but I will need a closer look.
“My - that was exciting.” She says with a smirk still playing with her nails, not once did she look up while I tried to claim her. Anger rising now with the defiance.
One of the metal soldiers punches me in the stomach, the other in the nerve bundle of my leg. They strike for pain, not injury. I am accustomed to pain, this much I can endure. I know that I should speak, but the defiance in me is soaring, the anger hanging on its tail feathers. They continue, punching and striking. There is purpose to the pain though, more than just anger that holds my tongue in defiance; it’s the first time I’ve been able to truly look closely at their armors, and my Ulima eyes have finally found a fatal flaw. There is a grin forming through the blood running down my face, I cannot help it. She raises a hand turning her gaze to me now, the soldiers stop.
“The physical pain doesn’t seem to be motivating, let’s try something else.” She says waving her hand lazily.
A holo appears before me, it is of Arrum. My blood rises, the rage clawing up past the defiance. It threatens to show itself; it calls for the lullaby of a blade, the only song to make this beast sleep. I try hard to swallow it down so she does not see, but seeing now the smirk rippling across her face - I know in an instant she can read me like an open book.
“Again, this can go one of two ways.” She begins but I finally speak.
“Ask your questions.” I say, I do not hide the anger in my eyes, they glow without restraint.
“Oh, I will.” She grins going back to her nails.
Looking at the holo, Arrum appears to be training in a place much like my assembly hall, only a few minor changes to it. I try to take in the details as best I can.
“Where were we?” She says playfully again “Right, want to know why the first wave is…”
“Yes.” I interrupt. She smiles then pulls it back again. She is enjoying this.
“It’s to encourage sponsorship for the next waves, once the patrons see it’s impossible without them - they tend to lighten the purse strings. Wanting to feel in control of the fates of others, etcetera.” She says.
My anger is coming up in my throat now, the bile wishing to spew. They meant for all of us to die? For what, money? Do they not already have enough luxury? My mouth begins to move even as I try to fight it.
“So - our suffering is a commodity, you its merchant… you are worse than the masters, you disgust me.” I say to her, spitting blood from my mouth upon the desk. She turns to look at me, a strange look upon her face as though she’s deeply offended. It takes a moment, but she recovers her composure.
“Needless to say, you and your friend created quite the upset. The subsequent waves of hunters somehow also did well, despite being separated.” She waves her hand, several holos appear, showing a series of images of hunters working together in larger groups than my wave.
“Upon investigation, we have determined the reason behind the unfair advantage the other waves received.” She says flicking her wrist again. A new holo appears.
“Unfair advantage…” I say shaking my head. She wants the blade, practically is begging for it.
Looking at the holos now, it is the small rooms the pod took us before we went into the Colosseum, after we left the armory. The same rooms that the soldiers pushed everyone into after the challenge. The image shows a man carving deep into the stone, his hands bleeding from the exertion. I recognize him almost immediately, the fire of hope begins to burn in my chest, it is the man I had beaten - who tried to kill me, the one I embraced instead of killed. He is the one that caused the change in the waves, the one that risked himself to help the next groups.
On the sandstone, words are carved, and I see a cloth wrapped blade shoved into the cracks between the stones. One of the words in particular catches my eye. A smile forms on my mouth once more, hope passes the anger and pushes it back into the cave of suffering inside me. The word that causes the hope to climb is etched the deepest.
T’Akor - We rise.
“It’s interesting, usually hunters don’t help each other.”
She shows more images and the wave after leaves more words etched in stone. It is like a wildfire of information being passed down. There is pride in my chest, my people can rise, they will rise.
“Seeing as the Grand Hunt doesn’t end until a certain number are eliminated.” She says, picking at her nails again.
My eyes become hollow as she says this, there is a changing of tide inside of me. The hope inside turns to the demon of anger now, offering it a hand, bidding it to rise back as its equal. My gaze grows colder as she speaks again. I fight against the metal hands that bind me, if I had the strength…
“And so, you can imagine that as the Warden of the challenges this puts me in a predicament.” She says turning to look at me again.
There is no change in her demeanor, no anger where I expected it to be. I do not care, my blade sings for her and the masters - a song that only the dead are permitted to hear.