Alo’aharu clutched their gold bracer to their chest, curled up in a ball on the cold, stone floors of their cell, as if trying to defend themselves against the scornful gazes of those around them.
For days, it had been like this. They didn’t know how many days, but Alo’aharu had lost count around the twelfth hour of the third day.
All the hours seemed to blend after that. So in the meantime, Alo’aharu did nothing but regret.
The elemental’s mind returned to the world around them when a collection of footsteps on the dungeon’s stone floors preceded Andar Callione and a few accompanying guards.
Alo’aharu watched Lord Callione intently as he hobbled down the rows of the cages.
A spark of excitement jolted through them as Lord Callione came to a stop in front of their cell and turned to them.
“L-Lord Callione,” Alo’aharu gasped. “Am I forgiven? Am I being released?”
“Do not be so presumptuous, wretched slave.” Andar growled. “You are not yet forgiven for your failure.”
Alo’aharu scrambled across the ground of their cell to get close to the door. “Then I beseech you, my lord. You know I am a loyal servant. I will not fail you again. So please, allow me the opportunity to prove myself. If you only give me this one chance, I will never-never-take your gifts for granted again.”
Andar hummed, considering. “You will prove yourself by serving your punishment here. You have not yet earned the right to do even that much.”
“What?” Alo’aharu muttered. “What do you mean I haven’t earned it? Lord Callione, I insist-”
Some horrible tendril made up of blackness and death shot out from Lord Callione’s form and grabbed Alo’aharu by the throat, slamming them against the back wall of their cell.
The tendril vanished, allowing Alo’aharu to fall and feel the pain blossom in their back.
“You will insist on nothing!” Callione roared. “Because you are a wretched, lowly creature who dares to question the higher authority that allows them to even conceive of the idea of participating in human society! You are an arrogant, selfish, ungrateful wretch and you will rot in this cage until I decide to let you out! I am the master! You are the slave! Now, fulfill your role and remain silent. I only came down here to take that bracer back.”
Alo’aharu’s heart sank as they instinctively clutched the bracer closer to them.
“Give me the bracer, elemental. You may not wear it. This amount of gold is worth more than what your life ever will be.” Andar said.
Alo’aharu didn’t speak, but they didn’t move to hand Andar the bracer. It was all they had left. All they had to remind them until Lord Callione released them.
“If you don’t give me that bracer, I will never release you. You will die in this cage.” Andar said.
They didn’t move. They couldn’t move.
Andar’s guards started forward, but stopped them.
“Still won’t give it to me? Fine. Let us see if you believe that bracer was worth it after being reminded of the way a lower slave lives.” Andar growled. “Put it to work like the others. There’s bound to be some freak in this city who wants something like you in bed with them. If not that, then you’ll be a labor slave again.”
Andar and his protection left without another word, returning the way they came.
Once they were out of earshot, Ukhaua snorted. “All that for a bracer?”
“I...I didn’t mean to…” Alo’aharu stuttered.
“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Zakiti croaked. “You’re in deep trouble.”
“Why?” Alo’aharu snapped. “I—Just...can you not talk to me?”
The Nightborn around them heeded their request.
What had they done? Why hadn’t they given Lord Callione the gods damned bracer? What was so hard about doing that?
Anxiety rose like a tide of black muck in their chest.
But as they berated themselves in the confines of their mind, one question permeated.
Why was all of this happening? Why did Alo’aharu have to give up the bracer? Why did they have to be locked in this cage?
And there were no reasonable answers to these questions. Only frustration laid in trying to answer them.
No matter what they did, said, or tried, it never seemed to be enough to satisfy the Calliones. Even when they wanted to please and to show their loyalty, they were denied the chance. There was no room to be anything more than what the nobles said they were.
Why were they loyal to these people?
The Calliones defined Alo’aharu before they ever got the chance to do so. They told them who they were and asserted themselves as the absolute authority of Alo’aharu’s worth. And according to them, Alo’aharu would always be something inhuman. Not a person, but a creature.
Alo’aharu looked at the bracer in their hands.
The Calliones even gave them this precious reminder. It was a symbol of the freedom they once had. But, a reminder of a freedom the Calliones gave to them.
It wasn’t freedom, then. It was a reward for obedience. It kept them leashed. Displayed that they were “tame” to the fearful masses. And that wasn’t enough. How could they have thought it ever was?
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Alo’aharu’s eyes flared with a surge of energy, drawing the attention of the Nightborn around them. They stood and lifted the bracer, giving it one last look over before they swung their arm, bashing it into the stone walls.
The bracer warped, being gold. But the damage wasn’t enough. It still resembled the shackle that Alo’aharu had cherished.
With a roar of exertion, they violently smashed the bracer against the walls again.
Then they smashed it again. And again and again and again.
Alo’aharu didn’t deserve this. They couldn’t deserve this. How was it that this was justice?
They bashed it against the walls until the gold was all bent out of shape.
Alo’aharu screamed in frustration as their crusade against the bracer continued until the guards broke into their cell.
They took the bracer and shoved Alo’aharu to the back of their cage. They left after telling them to shut their maw.
But Alo’aharu didn’t care about any of that. They just seethed.
A fire raged in their chest, unlike anything they’d ever felt before. A wellspring of mana was located right inside their body and the iron collar around their neck cut them off from it. That only seemed to fuel their fury.
The only person who knew their worth—the only person who they could trust to have their best interests at heart—was Alo’aharu. No one else. After all, no one else could understand who they were and what they needed.
The only person they could trust was themselves. And the downtrodden Nightborn sat next to them.
***
Mattiew sat alone in the Callione house library, his eyes unable to leave the ground. He couldn’t bother showing himself to Adriana. Though he didn’t know why.
What he’d done...his choices during the Trial were sound and logical. Anyone in his situation would’ve done the same, especially with what was at stake. Khemti shouldn’t have been so naïve this far into the tournament.
But no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t convince himself it was true.
His chest tightened, still reeling from the wounding stare Khemti had given him from the ground. Mattiew had trouble sleeping from the day he recruited his former crew to fight with him. It’d be a miracle if he could even get in bed now.
The end of the tournament was nearing. He was never meant to get this far. He wanted to trust Adriana. He really, really did. But what in the Eight Empires was taking her so long? At this rate, Mattiew would be once again at Semiramis’s mercy before they were free.
Mattiew’s head contained a roiling storm with lightning flashes of coherent thought among a mess of dark, intertwined clouds of the many problems facing him. The vast majority of which he could do nothing about.
The piercing clack of a wooden cane on stone floors was the only thing to return Mattiew to the present. The sound preceded yet more dread that only added to the torrent of grief and guilt.
Andar Callione shuffled past the entrance to the library, accompanied by two young maids. Andar glanced at Mattiew. He half expected the geezer to grin at the torment on his face.
“You look troubled, Nikoliades.” Andar croaked.
Mattiew only glared at him.
Andar limped into the library and sat himself on one of the many lounges in the room. He waved his maids away. “Go fetch a platter for each of us, girls.”
“As you command, Lord Callione.” the women bowed out of the room.
“Tell me what plagues your mind.” Andar said.
Mattiew clicked his tongue. “Why do you care?”
“Well, I can’t have my champion growing demoralized, can I? From the looks of it...you betrayed someone.”
“I’d figure that’s a common hobby of yours.”
“If I did it so often, I wouldn’t recognize your sleeplessness. You may think me a monster, but I too am human. I have regrets.”
“I doubt that.” Mattiew scoffed.
“Despite my facade, no man can truly wish for his daughter to despise him as Adriana does.” Andar said. “I don’t know how I would’ve done it, but I wish I could’ve been a better father.”
Mattiew prepared to fire back with a petty remark, but the weight in his chest seemed to push him back into his lounge.
Andar looked behind him as his attendants returned with platters of meats and cheeses. One girl sat next to Andar and began feeding him in a typical show of opulence.
Mattiew declined the other maid’s offer to do the same to him and simply took the platter for himself.
“But this is no time to be looking into the past. You have two trials remaining,” Andar said between bites. “Next is Conviction, yes?”
Mattiew nodded.
“Guru Ramachandran called it the one thing that commoners would have and nobles would lack. Growing up in harsh conditions hardens us. It makes us strong, and it makes us willing to do what needs to be done. Not for a lack of empathy, but for a presence of willpower. Something sorely lacking in today’s noble youth. My father knew this when he came to me and offered to make me his heir.”
“Is this another strategy you’ve come up with to convince me to be your heir?” Mattiew asked, chewing on a bit of cheese.
“Just listen to the story. Think whatever you wish.” Andar muttered. “I had a choice to make. Initially, I refused his offer. I was bitter towards him for abandoning me. My comrades agreed with my choice. But they revealed an insight that caused me to change my mind.
“I was angry. But anger is the inherent core to Conviction. Without anger, there is no determination. Rage made me strong. Rage motivated me to take up my father’s offer, not to be his perfect heir, but to humiliate and punish all the nobles who’d grown complacent.”
“That’s why?” Mattiew scoffed.
“Yes.” Andar said without a second thought. “The rage I feel towards the lazy and entitled slugs who share my rank motivates everything I’ve done and everything I do. Hatred, rage, and conviction are all earthly attachments that must be let go of to be free. However, they can truly only be forgotten once you do what needs to be done. Much like a loved one. If you had to let go of my daughter, could that realistically occur while she was still alive? Of course not.”
Mattiew felt the urge to argue, but...Andar wasn’t wrong. Rage against Andar and a desire to succeed in the tournament to spite the nobles motivated Mattiew’s valiant efforts and bravery. Rage motivated his ruthlessness and merciless crimes committed against nobles during his sailing days.
And no...he wouldn’t be able to let go of her. Irkalla, he couldn’t even let go of his two-week-old friendship.
“You must learn to destroy what binds you with absolute conviction. Everything from your own instincts to the noble houses. Only then will you be able to turn your attention to that which cannot be seen. And only then will you open yourself to a new reality.”
“Is this all according to that guru of yours?”
“No. For all his greatness, Guru Ramachandran could not see the necessary role violence plays in securing freedom.” Andar said.
“In that case…” Mattiew launched his platter at Andar, nearly hitting the old geezer on the head and causing the maids to scream.
Andar cackled, looking at the spot where the platter almost hit him. “That’s what I’m talking about, boy!”
Mattiew’s breaths became heaves before he grabbed a table in the middle of the library and threw it. He let himself calm a little afterward.
“That’s better.” Andar grinned. “Happiness is but a temporary state of satisfaction with the status quo. True satisfaction comes from complete autonomy. It comes from control over your entire being. So revel in it.”
Mattiew hesitated for a moment, choosing whether to respond. He ultimately remained silent before starting out of the library.
Though he stopped for a second.
“You know...I think I’ll actually take your advice for once. But you know what this means, right?” Mattiew asked.
“Try to destroy me. Give it your all. I look forward to seeing what you’ll do.”