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KAIO
Bloodworm had me lead the parade of gladiators. I was specifically told not to look back at the line behind me. I was not told why, only that I needed to play into the spectacle.
I was dressed in completely inadequate armor, created more for aesthetics than actual protection. On my own world, I would not be caught dead in the overly embellished crown. Heavy gold, ornately wrought, brimming with moonstones. We kept things simple. We did not show off our wealth because we simply did not have ‘wealth’. We had a community sharing resources so that every individual could be sustained. Yes, I lived in a palace. Yes, I had guards. But I ate what my citizens ate. I wore what my citizens wore, with the very rare exception of holidays when I needed to be dressed for ceremony.
Not once since my coronation had my grandfather’s crown touched my head. I was a man of the people.
It fractured my soul to be strutting like this into the bonding chamber, leading thrill seekers and prisoners behind me. The universe had all eyes upon me, and I looked like a peacocking dictator.
“Kaio Targen has taken his place. It is my understanding, dear viewers, that the King will get to handpick his human companion for the games. Let us hope he chooses wisely!” Jorell Rube… how I loathed him. He was a caricature of a sentient being. Artfully designed for entertainment.
I gazed around the cavernous room, wondering where the humans would make their appearances. Bloodworm had personally arrived at my chambers shortly before the bonding to prepare me for the women. He made it clear that there were a few bad eggs and showed me several photos. “Be wise and steer clear of these ones. They’re rotten. Back on the farm, we’d have killed ’em young like piglet runts and buried them in shallow graves. I plan to pair them with some of our least promising gladiators. They’ll be dead just like that.” Bloodworm had snapped his fingers, emphasizing how quickly the women would hopefully die.
One of the images had been Gwen.
Bloodworm was going to be disappointed by my choice…
I watched with interest as the guards, former gladiators who’d survived, came around to each active gladiator to chain them to the rocky curved wall. As a Banda approached me, I gave him a look that said if he dared touch me and chain me, then he would not make it out of this cavern alive. The Banda, to his credit, gave a furtive glance up into the commissioner’s box and then walked away from me quickly.
Bloodworm’s voice boomed to life across the speakers instead of Jorell Rube’s. “King Kaio Targen, we will now present you with the human women. You must choose the female best suited to help you survive. We afford you this courtesy due to your royal station.”
The world tilted and split, the floor opening slowly to reveal a large circle leading down to a bottomless pit. A mechanical whining split through the now quiet cavern. It seemed to take forever until something appeared in that hole.
Twenty-five human women were chained to a platform. They were all dressed in the protective uniforms. They all looked so similar.
“Choose, King Kaio Targen!” Bloodworm’s impatient voice came again.
Where is she? Where is she?
I scrambled to find her, stepping away from the wall and debating closing the gap between myself and the huddle of humans.
But then I saw a flash of red. A bright crimson scar in the sea of black and blue clothing.
And I knew, beyond a shadow, that Gwen belonged to that anomaly.
“I choose the human woman with the red on her shoes!” I spoke loudly, my voice carrying easily around the domed space.
“Red…” Bloodworm’s voice sounded a third time. “What human woman is wearing something red? Stand up! You have been chosen by a King!”
I watched with satisfaction as Gwen stood. The footwear she wore made her several inches taller than she had been when she’d invaded my rooms. I didn’t care if Bloodworm was annoyed. I’d found her. I’d chosen her. I’d keep her safe.
The Banda who hadn’t chained me moved to Gwen and undid the shackle around her ankle. He took her by the arm and yanked her impatiently toward another woman and then switched their places. Now that Gwen was closer, I could see bruises across her face. She’d been beaten after leaving me. Beaten more than the slap from the yellow-haired human.
Anger blossomed in my chest and my hearts felt too large and uncomfortable. It was irrational to feel so protective toward this strange alien. But I did.
“And there you have it, my viewers! The King has chosen! Let the bonding ceremony begin!” Jorell Rube again, his high-pitched voice slicing into my ears. How anyone found him pleasant to listen to, I’d never know.
A violet fog flooded into the space, rolling across the floor in waves that seemed alive before rising upwards. I steeled myself, knowing the psychedelic affects this gas would have on my senses. Maybe not being chained to the wall was a bad idea. If I could not control myself, then I could not choose my mate. I needed to be clear headed.
Prismatic light came next, flashing around the room and further disorienting.
Even as my senses began to fail me, I fought to stay focused.
The women were being yanked by their chains toward their intended gladiators. I had only taken the first step toward saving Gwen. I’d kept her from being paired with a weakling that would cause her a rapid, excruciating death.
The world grew silent, so quiet that it was like we’d all fallen into a black hole and been cut off from the rest of the universe. Gwen slammed against me, the softness of her body crushed against the hardness of mine. She felt glorious. I wanted to bask in the feel of her and study the way her pale skin glowed next to me.
Yet seconds later it felt like every sound on every planet in every galaxy came rushing into my head. It was like the universe was screaming, crying for release. Crying to be both freed and captured. A sharp aching built in my head. A Lordian Scythe ripped through my gray matter, slicing it into wet useless mush.
