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Chapter 21 - Tre
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As Tre swam underwater past the wooden bridge, the muffled sounds of the guard’s feet stomping one after another and wood creaking under their weight diminished the closer he got to land. He never could breathe underwater, but he had suspicions about what other supernatural powers he was given at birth through his genetic bonds with nature. Any mortal would have drowned or been captured at the bridge, but Tre found that he could hold his breath for much longer than the average Navy seal. The murky waters hid him well, and the advantage of a crystal clear sight made his way through the waters that much easier, but he was running out of oxygen. The risk of being seen as much less problematic if he passed out and floated to the water's surface. At least, if his location were revealed he would have a better opportunity, a sliver of hope to make it to the end of the lake before the guards could surround him.
Tre slowly ascended and managed to keep his body in place as his face broke the water’s surface. He took a couple of deep breaths, then slowly turned his head so his face was back in the water. Before he resumed heading to shore, he brought his ear up and over the water to get an idea of the distance between him and the guards. At first, he heard only the leaves on trees rustling as the wind blew and nothing else. “I’m assuming the guards believe I am under or near the bridge, preoccupied by their speculations.” Tre felt it was safe enough to replenish the oxygen reserves in his body so he wouldn’t have to risk coming back up to the surface for air until he reached the shore. He turned his head back to his face parallel to the sky and took in one last deep breath, but this time, the sounds of two objects entered the water, one after the other.
In a panic, Tre descended to his previous depth, then carved through the water with every stroke, ferociously kicked his legs to propel himself forward, putting as much distance between him and his pursuer. He didn’t dare waste time or energy turning around the opaque waters concealing him, but to what extent? The shoreline became visible after a few minutes, and his heart began pumping harder and harder, louder and louder, until he finally broke the surface. The sting of the burning muscles in his arms and legs hindered his progress to dry land. “I just have to swim a few more yards and be scot-free!” Tre searched deep within himself, tapped into his reserves, and expelled whatever energy he had left. When he reached shore, his hands felt the mud, so he dug his finger into the ground and pulled his body out of the water.
He got up on one knee and exhaled, “What a life. I go to sleep, wake up being dragged out of a tent in my underwear, get thrown in a cell, chased by dozens of men, jump out a window, run through the streets of Portum, and then dive into a lake with no contingency plan.” Tre shakes his head, chuckling. “What a time to be alive.” He rises, then shakes as much of the mud off his hands as possible. He lifts his chin to the sky while closing his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief. Tre steps forward, and suddenly he hears a loud splash behind him. He quickly turns around to find a man standing on shore breathing heavily with shoulder-length black hair covering his eyes. The man’s upper body flexes as he balls his fists. “I hope you enjoyed the fresh air while it lasted…”
Tre’s heart stopped, the man’s gravelly, but there was something more disturbing about his aura. It made him feel worthless and hollow as if life itself had no meaning. Every pessimistic thought he’d ever had was swallowing him whole and rotting him from the inside out. A sharp pain developed in the back of his head, his hands shot upward, holding his head as he was brought down to his knees. He started yelling uncontrollably, “NO! STOP!”. Tre’s pain increased tenfold as it traveled from his head to his hands and to the rest of his body. “WHAT’RE DOING TO ME?!” the man chuckles, and a grin develops. “I’m bringing hell to you!”
Tre removes his hands from his head, and the pain subsides but then flares up again. He opens his eyes and sees the flesh on his hands melt away, from skin to muscle to bone, like acid was doused over them. The pain intensifies but is nothing compared to the former experience. The man laughs with a sadistic undertone, “Feels good, doesn’t it?” “Uh, I guess that is one way of putting it.” The man frowns, sighing, “That was rhetorical, half-blood!.” “Maybe for you, but not for me.” The man waves his hand across Tre, and the pain evaporates. He looks down at his hands, and the once-melting flesh returns to normal as if the entire experience was a hallucination.
“I can bestow peace, or I can bestow pain. What you call reality is mine for the taking. Some call me the devil, some call me a Saint, but I am neither. I am—” Before the man’s grand reveal, another figure emerged from the water, and the asshole without a shirt had a sword 2-foot blade sticking out of his mouth. The man’s teeth flew out into the air like shrapnel, following his tongue, which landed, then bounced off my left cheek. His eyes widened as the blade ripped through his right cheek, and he fell to his knees. The figure behind him stood in a drenched white robe, sticking to his skin and holding a blade with blood dripping off the tip. He tossed his sword to the opposite arm, gripping the hilt, then in one fell swoop, decapitated the kneeling man.
“God, I hate the Cavae—such a braggadocious breed.” The figure flicked his sword as he moved towards Tre; the blood of the Cavae flung off his blade, and then his sword dematerialized. The figure kneeled by the headless corpse and took out a vial, collecting some blood from the Cavae. Tre tilted his head in bewilderment, “What’re you doing?” The figure continued to fill a couple more vials before answering him. “A potent ingredient when concocting potions, but what most people don’t know when taken orally, their blood releases a toxin that poisons its victims, and there are only a few things in the worlds that provide the cure.” He stayed silent as he watched the figure place the three vials of blood into a pouch strapped to his left thigh.
Tre was apprehensive about the situation and who his savior was. A part of him felt like his life was spared, not saved. “Are you going to take me back to my cell now?” “No.” “Why did you save me then? I don’t know you, much less you don’t owe me anything.” The figure nodded and then approached Tre, kneeling in front of him. “Luna. She is the reason I am here.” “Luna?” He lowered his head and chuckled, “Yes, she is the daughter of a brother I lost many years ago, and when she reaches out, I’m there.” Tre nodded slowly but still didn’t get an actual answer to his question. “Well, then... who are you?” “My name is Sapien. I’m here to rescue you and your friends, Tre.”
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Chapter 22 - Abel
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Abel wakes up lying in the dirt with an incredible wave of pain from his recent introduction to the City of Portum. “Great, another dark room with four walls to keep me company.” He gets up, wincing from the pain, but this time free from shackles, and the room doesn't reek of death, blood, and guts. This room still smelled like piss though “From death chamber to Urinal. God, I love this City.” Abel scoffed, shaking his head and thinking about when the guards would drag him back for another round of interrogations. He recalled his last conversation with the Burly Man and his last words. “Let’s see how long it takes for "The Via to Patiens" to crush that rebellious spirit.” Luna had never mentioned “The Via to Patiens”; he could only assume the worst.
Abel found himself pacing, his anxiety continued to heighten the more time he spent roaming. Something peculiar was going on, he felt the room's walls and the touch of coarse stone nothing but stone. He assumed there was a door or some opening because how else could the guards have thrown him in here? Another plan would be to escape through the vents, whatever ventilation system they had. This option withered and died, once he realized no air was entering the room. The temperature had been rising just slow enough for him to disregard, but the sweat trickled down his body meant he was on borrowed time.
As time passed, Abel became increasingly aware that this room was his tomb. The Burly Man wasn’t sending his guards to retrieve him. The interrogations were over, and the trials had begun. “Yeah, optimistically, I have a 5% chance of survival and a 95% chance of post-mortem defecation.” Abel chuckled. He found his current situation was filled with irony; his whole life felt identical to being trapped inside the four walls of his mind. He was suffocating; there was never enough time to decipher the endless riddles that accumulated, leading to the culmination of trials without substantial meaning. Unlike his past, Abel wasn’t fighting for himself anymore; he’d been given two more reasons, two lives to protect and persevere for. Tre and Luna won’t be names added to the list of people who’d cared and protected him and who perished senselessly. At that moment, he decided his life did have meaning. The path traveled was worth the suffering; they were worth every ounce of it.
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Chapter 23 - Luna
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Miles and Luna evaded the flux of guards running in and out of buildings as they made their way to the rendezvous point. Sapien and Miles arrived at Portum the same day Abel opened the secret passage to the City. They’d been hiding in plain sight as a couple of farmers. They entered the city to sell crops and hire workers for the upcoming harvest. Miles certainly looked the part with dirt streaks on his face; his forearms and hands were covered in dirt. There was mud underneath his fingernails, and his jeans were faintly stained green from mowing the pastures around the farm where Sapien and our family were raised. Lies with bits of truth sprinkled throughout make them much more believable.
It didn’t take long for Miles to lead us back to the wagon with their crops and the few extra horses they had for “the workers” they were to hire. “Sapien wants us to meet him outside of the city. You and your friends getting caught erases the anonymity we had in Portum. The only safe place is home.” Luna sighs. “Alright, I guess we have no choice in the matter.” As they saddle up, she begins to think of a different plan, wanting to come up with a more proactive approach, but too many scenarios lead to them being captured or killed. Begrudgingly, she agrees to leave the City and meet the guys at the rendezvous point. Miles ties the horses up to the wagon and set off for the city’s gates.
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Chapter 24 - Abel
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After a time, maybe a few hours, or days even, Abel found himself being beaten and knocked unconscious again. He couldn’t remember how the guards entered the room, but he was sure it didn’t matter because this time, he woke up in the middle of nowhere with sand lying all around him. Disoriented and riddled with pain, Abel began to stand up. He blinked several times before his vision cleared, his surroundings were filled with rows and rows of stands. The entire arena was empty, but the ominous feeling of dread only began to grow. Confusion clouded his next move; there wasn’t a clear decision to be made to escape his predicament.
Abel slowly turned around and scanned the entire arena until he saw a single gate. Without hesitation, he ran to what he believed could be his only chance at escaping; there was no time to waste. The hot sand burned his feet with every step. The closer and closer he got, the more euphoric he felt relief was beginning to wash over him. A few moments later, the euphoria drained from his body as he felt the ground trembling. The gate was slowly creaking open; you could hear the metal bars lifting from the sand and the gates groaning louder and louder toward their destination. He continued moving forward, peering into the opening, the abyss that lies ahead.
“Great, what do I do now?”Thoughts and images of the worst possible scenario slithered into Abel’s imagination. As fast as they came, they went; he shook his head, refocusing in time to see people entering the stadium above the gates. In a matter of minutes, the seats in the arena were half-filled; it wouldn’t take much longer before the arena was at full capacity. The only unoccupied seats were nestled in the middle of the stadium. The headrest, arms, and legs were golden with red cushions and an elegant pattern imprinted on them. Fear began to make Abel’s body tremble as the audience’s chatter grew louder. Conversations swirled and echoed around him.
“What’s going on here?” He questioned his current predicament as the crowd went silent. Abel was startled when he heard someone making an announcement. “The Good People of Portum! Thank you for joining us today. We appreciate your time and urgency for the event that will shortly be unfolding before us.” “What the fuck? What is he talking about?” Abel thought before the announcer finished. “Without further ado, I present to you our savior, our Lord, our God… King Plaga Caligo!!!” The audience goes wild; they stand up and applaud their King. The amount of love and admiration was overwhelming to witness. “I could never, will never experience an abundance of love like this.” Abel began to shed a few tears; he wiped them away just as the King arrived and made his way to the Throne.
The King walked up to his seat and spoke aloud, “My people, my children!! Today is a glorious day, one that I always look forward to.” The King raises his arms as he continues to sway the audience, “Before us, today is a half-blood, the most vile of our species.” The crowd gasps, “Yes, but believe me when I tell you this vermin will be put to the test and won’t live long enough to spread his disease throughout our Kingdom.” The King waited a few moments, building up the tension in the stadium. “For we have our most treasured gladiator to get rid of this atrocity.” The crowd begins to chant a name, “Kosan! Kosan! Kosan!” The King raises his hand, and the crowd goes silent.
“My Children. I know what you want; I know what you need. I provide for you, and I bleed for you. This Kingdom is ours, and on this beautiful day, I bring you the highest form of entertainment. I bring you all a gift…” The King looks over his shoulder and nods at a bald man painted in gold. The man walks down past the podium. Another servant rushes to his side and kneels while lifting a curved object on a cushion. A few moments later, the gold man picks it up and places it on his lips on one end. A deep, eerie sound rings out, and a silence accompanied by dread. Abel stands there, palms sweating, fearful of what lies next because he knows the games have begun.
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The gladiator’s owner watched as a servant placed the chest plate onto Kohan. The man tightened the straps around his body, making the armor sturdy and ready for battle. “Do you understand Kohan?” “Yes.” The owner gracefully stepped out of his litter and unsheathed his dagger. “Kohan!” He walked up to the gladiator and put the knife under his chin. “Look at me when I speak!” Kohan grits his teeth and reluctantly turns his head, meeting his master’s eyes. “That’s a good boy.” His master smiles devilishly. “The King is paying us a handsome sum for this creature’s head on a platter.” “And what do I get in return? The same wage for meaningless sex, even cheaper thrills?”
The owner removes the dagger underneath Kohan’s chin and begins pacing back and forth from one side of the room to the other. “No. This time, you will be fighting for your freedom. If you succeed, I’ll pay you double and burn our binding contract. You get to go home to your beautiful wife and child, and I get more money than I could’ve dreamed of purchasing, as you say, ‘meaningless sex and cheap thrills.’” The master noted the life brought back into Kohan’s eyes and the faint relief that flashed across his face. “Yes, now I have your attention.” His master pivots and stands in front of Kohan with a stoic posture. “Whether you are ready or not, the games have begun.”
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Chapter 25 - Tre
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Sapien and Tre find a way to exit the city and wait for Luna and Miles to meet them at the rendevous point, 25 miles from the city entrance. After their confrontation, they snuck around the outskirts of the city. The pair bought wool robes from a nearby shop and walked out the entrance with their hoods covering their faces. Sapien led the way as they tread the path to the grand oak tree. Neither initiated a conversation because Tre was exhausted, and Sapien wasn’t too keen on making small talk. They both traveled with their minds filled with questions and no answers to quench them.
After about an hour or two, Sapien broke the silence, “Why is he so important?”. Tre was startled; he hadn’t expected to converse with Sapien and hoped the silence would last until Luna arrived. “He’s a half-blood.” “Well, so are you. What makes his life more valuable than yours?” Tre paused for a moment; he didn’t have to think hard on the answer to Sapien’s question, but his answer would be tough to swallow. “His innocence is still intact… I’ve done too much harm to those I love, directly and indirectly.” “Mm.” Sapien thought while stroking his beard before answering. “I find that to be debatable. He might be of more value to whatever cause, but you have just as much.” Tre looked over but didn’t make eye contact with Sapien. “Recognize that half-bloods are usually killed at birth, let alone surpass the age of 15 when their powers manifest. You and Abel are cut from the same cloth, and I have a feeling your life has just as much value, if not more, than his.” Tre finally made eye contact with Sapien and nodded.
As nightfall approached, their brief conversation ended. There was still no sign of Miles, Luna, or Abel, so they both decided to camp under the Grand Oak Tree. Sapien was in charge of building a shelter to keep the light from the fire as dim as possible, and Tre would go into the woods to find Tinder and food for the night. When he returned, Sapien had found several branches from a pine tree and created a half-dome shelter. The curved side faced the City of Portum while the front stared into a manmade fire pit and the beautiful open field with the stars twinkling above. Sapien had started a fire, and Tre went on to skin and prepare the deer for dinner. It was a pain to drag it out of the forest, but he knew a few rabbits wouldn’t feed all five of them once Miles, Luna, and Abel arrived.
Before Tre began, he got down on his knees, bowed his head, and spoke a prayer of sorts, “May you find rest on your way to the next life. May your fur provide us with warmth and your meat with strength. I ask you to remind us to be grateful for all life and your sacrifice here today. Thank you for this offering, and forgive me for my trespasses. Never forget that you are loved as I once was.” Sapien was taken by surprise by Tre’s grace. As Tre began to gut the deer, Sapien broke some of the silence, “Do you always say a prayer before prepping a kill for dinner?” Tre kept on slicing the meat; there was no disturbance in his rhythmic cuts as he answered, “Yes.” “Why do you feel the need to honor the dead or what would only be presumed as food, someone’s next meal?”
Tre quit cutting for a moment before answering, “Because all life is sacred, which means it should be appreciated, especially when one’s life is ended abruptly.” He looked up from the corpse, and his eyes met with Sapien, who believed he saw tears welling up in Tre’s eyes. “Just because someone doesn’t believe one’s life is worth something doesn’t mean I have to believe it too.” Sapien kept eye contact with him and nodded his head. “That is enough of a reason and I imagine that reason gives you meaning,” Tre smirked and looked back down, continuing to prepare the deer for tonight’s dinner.
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