We share a look and a small smile.
Another two or three hundred steps and we’ve arrived at a different area. Rocky, barren and quite inhospitable.
Ahead, a cluster of openings carved into the rock comes into view.
The guide stops in front of them. “Accommodation assigned.”
He gestures toward one of the thresholds. There is no door, only a faintly glowing line etched into the stone where an entrance begins.
“Space will remain allocated until termination or reassignment,” he adds. “You and your registered mortal are the only ones allowed to step into this space.”
“Reassignment? What does that mean?” Moe inquires as she steps forward to inspect the square-like structures.
“This is an entry-level accommodation, suitable for low-level combatants. Mid and high level combatants receive new lodgings according to their point earning.”
Entry level… I don’t even want to imagine what I’m going to find inside. I’m not even sure it will be able to accommodate two people.
I must be one of the few ones to have someone registered under me. I can’t see other species having a mortal side kick accompanying them…anywhere.
But that will only bring unwanted attention.
And the only one likely to suffer for it is Moe.
Just thinking about the fact that she’ll have to live in these deplorable conditions for the foreseeable future guts me.
It’s all my fault?—
No. Stop! I can’t drown in this guilt forever. The only course of action I have is to turn all my emotions into actions and get us the hell out of here.
My lips pursed, I step forward into the room assigned to us. Moe is right behind me, while the wraith simply appears inside out of thin air.
The room is small. The edges, carved from stone, are hurried and uneven. A low bed sits at the center, layered with wornblankets that soften its edges. We’re clearlynotthe first to live here. Luckily, though, the bed is big enough for two people.
“You are fortunate,” the wraith interrupts my thoughts with his deadpan voice. “As the possessor of a registered mortal, you are assigned a double-room.”
“Oh,” is all I say. Now it makes sense why the bed is a double.
Nice of them, I suppose—aside from the entire battle to the death thing.
On either side of the bed, there are simple wooden tables. A few candles are strewn around the room, lighting it up and making it semi-hospitable. There is a small alcove half shielded by a curtain that appears to be the washroom—a small toilet, a sink and an even smaller shower space.
At least we won’t die due to our stench…
“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Moe mutters, a forced smile on her lips as she tries to make the best of the situation.
“I guess it’s livable,” I say with a sigh. “Although we’ll have to share a bed.”
I give her a grave look. We might have shared a tent before, but it was under the assumption it was a finite time. This, however…isquiteinfinite. We don’t know when we’ll get out—ifwe do.
“He just said you must fight to the death and you’re concerned about sharing a bed?” She rolls her eyes at me.
“I’m not concerned forme. I’m concerned for your sake. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
She shrugs. “I think we’re past comfort, in any shape or form. We’re lucky there’s enough space.”
“Yes, but?—”
“I will be fine, Nyk. You’re really overbearing sometimes. I won’t drop dead because I share a bed with you. In case you forgot, I’m your property now.” She wiggles her marked wrist at me.
