The silence took hold of the Crowd's tongue as Damian stood wobbling, finally the accumulated damage striking him like a hammer. "W-WE HAVE A WINNER!!" Flint Howled, drawing the crowd from the shock. Slowly, clapping simmered from within the masses, raising to a rain of cheers. Suddenly a gate opened, beckoning Damian to enter. Flint pumped the crowd with rantings about the upcoming match while motioning Damian to leave the arena, who gladly complied, dragging himself away.
"I have to say I was impressed with that human. He managed to put up such a fight" Cluym expressed, "to tell the truth I was rooting against him at first, but I switched sides without noticing." Sargon rested his chin between his index and thumb, glued his eyes to the empty arena as if rewinding the events in his mind "-impressive indeed. Even though Haemir could have easily dodged that, he just froze as if hypnotized.. could that boy be... I wonder-"
After crossing the gate to a corridor, the boy was met by the usual bushy smile of Garrik and an upset Teran. "After all that training, and this is what you come up with?" the young elf looked at Damian's state with a mix of concern and anger. "I have trained you better than to put such an embarrassing show. whatever should I do with you?" Teran facepalmed as he shook his head theatrically ", but since I do not want you to hold me back during my training, I asked Master Garrik to train you in my place."
Damian slowly realized it. Teran now understood his condition, whether old Garrik told him or Teran found out himself. Damian couldn't be sure. Either way, he's helping him improve without trying to seem weak. This outcome was more than he hoped for since recently he's barely getting any stat points from sparring with Teran, but now since he's going to be under Garrik's direct guidance, it's a whole different situation.
"I'm sorry for putting such a poor act, and I will do my best to make it up to you" Damian bowed his head slightly with a feeble smile. "you better. Now be grateful for the opportunity I just gave you, and do not shame me in front of Master Garrik" as Damian raised his head, the ground seemed to approach at an alarmingly increasing rate.
As usual, the boy opened his eyes, finding himself in the infirmary, only to get his head chewed by Kimara. "How can you be so reckless!?.. you are lucky that you sustained only minor injuries." Kimara hissed, "it's not like I did this on purpose, you know. How should I know his ugly ass was part of the carnival? I was practically forced into it" Damian growled back "still, you could have surrendered in the first match, but noooo you just had to win."
As both of them quarreled like ally cats, the infirmary door opened. An individual barged in the room accompanied by one of the guards "well, well, what do we have here?" a Croaky voice rang through the room. Damian turned only to meet a well-trained mass of muscles that towered him noticeably. "-and now wha...-" Damian's thoughts were cut short as the pony-tailed blond elf. Leaned forward for a better look at him.
Name / Level Kuskyn Nyaalsir / Level ??? Rank / Title Diamond prisoner / bloodbath Kyn
"So you are the human that old geezer is training this whole time?" Kuskyn spoke while still sizing the boy up. What stopped Damian from reacting wasn't the information on the tag. But the unmistakable bloodlust seeping through every pore on his body. Either Kuskyn was doing a poor job hiding it, or he simply doesn't really care at all. "so far, I am not impressed though you still look tender enough to eat" the blond elf exclaimed, his eyes refusing to part away from Damian's own, giving the boy a chill down his spine.
"If you are not injured, then would you please stop harassing my patient and leave the infirmary?" Kimara spoke to Kuskyn with a stern look. The elf looked at her momentarily, then returned gaze to Damian, straightened his posture before turning to leave "tell the old man if he wanted to defeat me he should either train you harder or find another candidate, not that it matters either way and do not think of cowering from our duel. Because if you do, I will hunt you down myself" he expressed before laughing as he left. "what's his problem?" Demian asked with his eyes still fixed on the now-closed door.
"he is always like that when it comes to mister Garrik" Kimara replied with an aggravated tone right before she sat on the stool in front of Damian, taking a closer look at the wound on his head. "And what did the old man do to piss him off?" Kimara paused as she heard the question, then quickly resumed as if not wanting to get involved before replying, "you have to ask mister Garrik yourself. I do not understand how you always get your self in these situations" before Damian could utter another word, she stood up heading to a desk filled with vials "your wounds are all healed you can leave now."
After returning to his cell, Damian sat in front of the old elf with one question in mind. Even though he already knew the answer, there were blanks that had to be filled. "why are you helping me, Mr.Garrik?" Damian asked as soon as their eyes met. "is it to defeat Kuskyn?" after a moment of silence, Garrik replied with a voice as cold as a winter breeze, "no, I do not want you to defeat Kuskyn... I want you to kill him."
Damian's eyes widened. He never had a problem with killing as long as it was for survival, but this is for vengeance. The way those words deliberately came out from him. There was a relationship, a history between Garrik and Kuskyn, and something changed, of that Damian was certain. But what "why?" another question popped up. So many questions required answers if Damian is to go on with the old geezer's plan. Garrik rested his hands on his cane after sitting on the bed facing the boy.
"Years ago, I was a Diamond ranked prisoner." after a long and deep breath, Garrik spoke, "under the Warden, I ruled over the other prisoners as the strongest, and no one challenged me. Not many anyway" before Damian could protest Garrik cut him off "and no I do not want to kill him because he took that rank from me. That rank was merely a name to me. At the time" the boy calmed down as he realized this was a story, surely there's a point behind it.
"One day, a young inmate came to me, asking to be taught how to fight and defend himself wanting to be a strong individual. I was pleased to have a pupil to train since there was nothing better to do for an old man such as myself. As time went on, the inmate became one of the strongest inmates under my guidance. As a teacher, you strive to push your pupils higher and higher, but he was different."
"Not satisfied as his lust for power as well as his arrogance grew every day, he finally decided to follow that hunger and challenge me. In our first duel, he was utterly defeated. I thought it would be a good lesson to humble such a man, but I was wrong. Each time we fought, he grew more desperate for the victory and resentful towards me. Till one day he came to challenge me like the other times, but this time I sensed something different about him, he was too confident."
"Like many times before, I fought determent not to let him win. Suddenly I found myself lying on the sands with one missing leg, and Kuskyn stood towering above me victorious with a sinister smile. Till I have a clue how he managed such a feat" regret surfaced on Garrik's lowered face while his hand clasped on his thigh as if reliving the event that rewarded him with his wooden trophy.
"Other than me, everyone who challenged Kuskyn met a slow and painful death while he enjoyed every bit of it, earning him the title of Bloodbath Kyn. I can no longer rechallenge him... he made sure of it" his bony grip tighten even more as his voice slightly quivered. "but you can do it, Damian. I understand that I have no right to ask someone else to do my bidding for me. Still, if you ever have the chance, I want you to kill Kuskyn, or else he will keep butchering inmates every chance he gets" Damian kept his silence a few moments longer as he processed the situation he is now in.
"I need to think about it before giving you an answer." Damian said as he stood from the creaking bed "fair enough. In the meantime could you go check on Teran in the shower room? He should have been back by now" the old elf spoke with a more relaxed expression. Yet, his gaze stayed on the stone wall facing him. "yeah, sure I need a shower as well" Damian replied as he headed for the wooden door knocking it several times.
After being escorted by one of the guards, Damian enters a large stone room with warm water pouring from certain parts of the ceiling focusing near the room's edges and ignoring the middle part of it, with pebbles decorated handsomely into the floor giving a somewhat luxurious feel to it. On his first day, Damian was relucent to enter this room since he was forced to go in naked as a baby, as did every other inmate, but now that he used it on a daily basis, he was used to it.
The shower room was only occupied by Teran, who took his time cleaning himself with soap as he faced the exit. A trend every inmate tends to learn as not to get ambushed since this was a frequent occurrence in the showers. "Well, it looks like you're enjoying yourself." Damian said while he kneeled near the entrance looking between the rubble of soaps. Complimentary of the Shatterdbone prison, "oh, you are back from the infirmary sooner than I thought. did you speak to master Garrik yet?" Teran asked while he switched to washing his chest in a circular motion.
"yeah, and he asked me to check on you since you haven't returned yet," Damian replied as he picked a bar of soap that wasn't used yet. Then he stood next to Teran, busying himself with cleaning. "I must have lost track of time" The little elf responded with an innocent smile. While the two continued chatting, two more elves entered the shower room. Damian noticed a third elf placing what seemed like a coin in the guard's hand before motioning him to leave the premises. The guard simply nodded and temporarily retired as the third elf joined them.
"Nice day for a shower, am I correct, human?" the elf on the left of the bunch smiled as he randomly grabbed a bar of soap while his other hand remained hidden. A poor job, Damian thought, as it was obvious he was concealing a small weapon of some sort. "If you are looking for an easy win, I assure you it will not be here." Teran hissed, ready for a fight " oh would you look at that. A human lover, well it is not surprising since you two make quite a good pair. I do have to say he is well equipped for the job" the elf jibed and snickered pointing with his words at Teran's hairless body and almost girlish face, and Damian's private parts.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Of course, that was all meant to agitate the both of them. And it worked marvelously on Teran. Suddenly he felt Damian's hand on his shoulder. "Teran, why don't you go head to master Garrik while I have a nice chat with the three jokers" Damian spoke with an innocent smile, yet his eyes showed caution. "I do not think so. We would hate it if your little friend tattle-taled on us to the old elf, now would we. So taking the both of you out of the picture is our best option" the other elf said as he stood in the way barring Teran's exit.
The situation was not in his favor "-unarmed and outnumbered, yet I still need a way out, and keep Teran out of harm's way or old elf Garrik would rip me a new one-" Damian pondered, squeezing the soap in agitation. Suddenly it dawned on him, he was never without a weapon, and he already wanted to try what's on his mind. There is a solution, but it would be a gamble at this point, a bet that counted on Teran. It will either go too well in Damian's favor or backfire like a hand grenade. Nonetheless, he has to do it, or they might both die here.
"Teran, on my mark, you take the one on your right, and I'll deal with the other two." Damian hummed in Teran's ear "and how are you planning to deal with the armed one?" the little elf asked with eyes still on their opponents. "I got a plan, but if it doesn't go well, you run like hell to master Garrik." Damian tightened his grip on the wet soap, turning it into mush.
Damian took a deep breath willing the fire to rotate in the center of his palm. "Well, let's hope you're ready for a good fight, then" Damian spoke while raising his right hand. The water on it evaporated as fire emerged. It was all a bluff to scare them away. He knew it could barely cook a marshmallow on it before he got exhausted. "A WEAVER!?" one of the elves in the back hesitated as he tried to back away. Even Teran looked at Damian with awe.
"-Good, it's working-" Damian forced a smile while still focusing on keeping the fire as strong as he could. "Like my friend here said, this is a fight you're not gonna win" He took a small step forward, hoping they took the bait. If they got scared and left, this would be a win. "Do not worry, he might be a weaver, but in this room, fire is useless" the elf in the middle spoke, rallying his comrades "-shit time for plan B-"
"Teran, NOW!" Damian shouted, and both of them catapulted to the front. Teran, focusing on his target while Damian headed to the one in the middle. dodging the first punch by ducking, and just when the distance was right Damian shoved the soap in his left hand into the elf's face, thanks to the added water it was heavily effective, as the elf squealed from the burning in his eyes "-one down, two to go-"
The armed elf aimed for Damian's left side with a makeshift shiv but miserably missed, as Damian used his blind assailant as a shield and running to the other side and -Dashed- at him to keep his momentum. Once he was close enough, his left arm grabbed the elf's right wrist, pushing him to the wall, and jammed his flaming arm into his opponent's face hoping the fire would singe him enough to let go of the weapon.
But the result was not what as well as Damian hoped for. He was strong enough to pin him to the wall, but the armed hand was slipping thanks to remaining mushed soap, and the fire was being hissed away by the water spraying from the ceiling. If his hand got free, this would end badly for Damian, and he might not get enough time to jump away "-shit its weak I gotta make it stronger-"
(Flashback)
"Why the fuck is it still so weak?" Damian growled as he stood in the empty training arena. After every sparring with Teran, and after everyone left, Damian took this chance to train the magic abilities at his disposal. Luckily Garrik didn't question him, thinking that the boy wants to train more by himself. He was not wrong, either. It was just a different kind of training. "No matter how much effort I put in it, the fire never goes more than this." Agitated, Damian looked disappointedly at the fire sprouting from his hand like a dim torch about to die out from a breeze.
Even after LEVELING the -Pyrokinesis- several times, this was all he can muster from it. "-This is pointless, I can't even use it to light my way through a dark alley, and my match is two days from now.-" The boy thought as he released his focus from the flames allowing it to dissipate. Something was amiss. He could feel it but couldn't put his finger on it. After cleaning up and ridding himself of the sweat, he rested on the bed, letting the exhaustion consume Damian until sleep's embrace claimed him.
A dream occurred to him, or was it a memory? he couldn't be sure. Either way, it was a long time since he had one. He was little again, rustling the books in his backpack. His mother shouting something as she waited in the car, and as he rushed in the passenger seat, his body enjoyed the message his mother's car provided in the morning. "oh dear, I forgot to refuel the car last night. I hope the station isn't crowded at this time, or I might really be late" Samantha muttered as she adjusted the seat belt on Damian.
"Mommy, why do you need fool for the car?" he asked while hugging his bag. She giggled at his innocence before replying. "Honey, the car needs fuel so it can move around. Just like a campfire needs wood to stay lit, the more wood we put in the campfire, the bigger and stronger it will be" suddenly Damian woke up, finding himself back in the cell. "-fire...something about fire... what was it-" the dream providing him with shambled answers, fading away in his drowsiness " Damian wake up, you need to prepare for training."
(flashback end)
At that moment, it dawned on Damian as he looked at his mana bar. How could he be so blind to the simple fact that all this time his mana never went down, not one bit. "-Fuel, I need Mana to fuel the fire-" with no time to waste, Damian willed every fiber in his being to boost the widdling flames. To his surprise, he felt a massive pulse in his chest, almost like a second heart that was dormant for years come to life. A warm stream rushed from the center of his chest, coursing through his arm till it reached his palm in an instant.
What was a dying ember spitting its last breath is now a roaring flame so bright it illuminated the shower room, evaporating the water and drowning the place in a dense cloud of mist. The elf on the receiving end felt the full force of the fire pushing itself all the way into his lungs, as he screamed in a muffed agony till he fell to the ground with peeled skin and scorched flesh, choked and lifeless on the hard wet ground.
Teran, who was wrestling on the ground with the other elf, both froze in place as they were startled from the whole event. Moments of silence in the mist-veiled room. Before another burst of light came and went like lightning, a scream emerged and dissipated just as fast instead of thunder. Forcing them to jump in place before the elf swiftly managed to free himself from Teran's grasp, putting him in a chokehold. "keep your distance, human, or your little friend will not be leaving here alive." words came from him while his eyes struggled to look for a target to run away from.
More silent seconds went by, before a hand abruptly emerged from the colorless cloak, wrapping its fingers around his pale face allowing only the eyes to peek through between the gaps, slowly the upper silhouette owning the hand appeared from the mist with raging eyes. "let him go" the calm voice alone sent chills down his spine. Without objection and filled with regret, he released his only chance for safety in hopes of a lessened punishment.
"M-Mister Weaver, I beg of you to let me go, and I will act like nothing of this ever happened. I promise to speak of this incident to no one" more pleading might milk a few more drops of mercy since he hasn't killed him right away. A few singes here and there are way better than being spending his life with a burned face or even scorched to death. "well, we can't have you go tattle tale about me being a weaver and such. So I can let you go if you promise to keep your mouth shut" Damian spoke with the same calm voice.
"N-no sir, not a whisper," the elf replied, not daring to show his relief. "but the thing is.." Damian's voice grew heavy while his eyes seemed to change color, alternating between blue or purple. In fact, those colors began seeping and mixing with the mist. "..you made fun of my little friend" words that sunk the elf's heart into the abyss of despair. heat growing immensely, and nothing to do but hope for it to be quick and not so painful.
"Damian, wait" Teran spoke, delaying the fireworks by drawing Damian's attention. "he promised not to speak of this. I think we can forgive him just this once." in Damian's mind letting him roam free might be risky, but killing him now might Make Damian look like a bully. "He just saved your life" Damian growled while relaxing his grip and backing away slowly "leave" the elf stumbled his way in a hurry out of the shower as Damian's gaze traced behind him.
Now alone, Damian switched his attention to Teran, who resembled a pale corpse. and stared at Damian in shock and horror as his eye returned to the usual black. "what's a Weaver?" a question that came out so calmly from Damian yet managed to shake the young elf even further. "I... think Master Garrik is more suitable to answer that question."
(Sometime later)
Sargon sat on his wooden desk, filling a paper with words of ink from a Quill pen till a slight knocking echoed from the other side of the door. "..enter" the Warden answered, still focused on filling the paper with contents. Zol, who was standing next to the door, opened it. Allowing one of the guards to enter, accompanied by the prisoner who managed to flee from Damian's grasp. "you may leave him here." the Warden issued, still busy with the document."Yes, sir." The guard naturally turned around and left.
"Mister Sargon you--" his words cut short by a simple finger from the Warden's free hand, signaling that he is not to speak without permission. A minute later, Sargon placed the pen aside and stood up to further his chair from the desk "so. What is it you need to speak to me about?" after taking a few steps, the Warden now stood in front of the desk with his hands resting on his back, half-closed eyes and a faint smile as he usually does.
"Ye-yes sir, you told us that if we ever found anything suspicious about the human boy to inform you right away for a reward?" the prisoner stuttered. "and did you find anything of interest to me?" "oh, indeed, sir, we found out that he is a Weaver" hearing the comment, Sargon's smile widened menacingly, but it only lasted for no more than a second. "a Weaver, you say. That is truly interesting" The warden quietly returned to his seat with his smile back to normal as he continued his paperwork ignoring the prisoner who is left standing in the middle of the room.
after a brief scribble, the warden looked back at the prisoner. "oh, you may leave" Sargon shooed the prisoner with a gesture of his free hand "umm, about the reward, sir?" the prisoner embarrassingly asked. "oh right, your reward, yes yes..." Sargon paused as if recalling something before asking, "however, if I may ask, how did you identify that he was, in fact, a weaver?" "w-well sir, we had a skirmish with the human and old Garrik's boy, and it caused us the lives of two of my best friends as he burned them to a crisp. I barely escaped with my life."
"oh... that is unfortunate, and was there anyone else who witnessed your.. skirmish?" The Warden asked, seemingly intrigued "none sir" the prisoner replied, uncertain of where this is heading. "well, in that case, I guess you alone get a reward after such a horrifying experience. Zol, be a dear and give this man his reward" rejoiced in the mention of a prize, the prisoner brushed his hands together greedily "oh, thank Sargon sir-- ugh."
A hand suddenly coiled around his neck, clasping tighter, preventing the air from accessing or leaving his lungs. There was no mistaking it. This was Zol's handiwork. Even as he struggled with all his might to claw his way through the large fingers, his efforts were in vain. He was like a mouse trying to escape the embrace of a snake after being caught. "oh, do forgive me, I would have killed you myself, but I do not want blood all over the floor." the Warden expressed to the now foaming elf.
His mouth foamed the moment his neck snapped, forcing his head to be tilted unnaturally. Only then did the clutches loosen, allowing his body to collapse on the floor like a ragdoll, now lifeless. "I really hate it when dogs act without the permission of their master."