AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Rhyan’s eyes narrowed as he lifted his arms, his wrists twisting in a dramatic flourish to prove how willing he was in that moment. The mage moved his stave, directing the glittering ropes around Rhyan’s body to snake toward his arms and wrists until he was bound to the pole.
“He comes!” the herald screamed, running out into the arena, his voice amplified by magic.
I had to cover my ears from the volume. Rhyan winced in pain, unable to move his arms or hands.
The entire stadium sank to their knees, the floors creaking, as the Emperor entered the arena.
I bent down, sinking onto the cold, frozen ground, my heart pounding. I took a quick glance behind me at Rhyan, bound and unable to bend a knee. Instead, he’d lowered his head, his chin pressed into his chest, his bronzed hair wild and wavy from his struggle.
The field of the arena quickly filled with the Emperor’s men. They surrounded him along with the Imperator and the Blade. Aemon entered the field from a separate door. Turion Dairen and three soturi I recognized from the guard at Aemon’s townhouse followed, their hands resting on the hilts of starfire blades. I braced myself against the Ready’s dark anger blazing through the arena.
The Emperor’s eyes fell on me, then with a look of disdain, they moved to where Rhyan stood bound behind me. He shrugged, his velvet cloak shining in the torchlight with every shift of his body, and then he turned, looking up at the filled stadium.
“Welcome.” The Emperor’s voice had also been spelled to amplify, but it still maintained that eerie, quiet manner. “On Auriel’s Feast Day, we celebrated the God who brought the Valalumir to Lumeria. The God who saw his people suffering on the earthly plane, our ancestors who were losing battles under the leadership and weakness of the seductress Asherah, the goddess who fell, the goddess who wanted the Valalumir for herself. And on that day, as was tradition, we celebrated the Revelation Ceremony, welcoming a new class of soturi and mages, future Lumerians who would protect our Empire and bring us into a new age. Her grace, Lady Lyriana Batavia, Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Bamaria was amongst the initiates with plans of becoming a mage like the many esteemed arkasvim in her bloodline before her.”
My chest heaved. So on top of my having to suffer through whatever this test was going to be, I had to be bored and humiliated by a long speech.
“Unfortunately for her grace, she was unable to produce any magic. A fact that was confirmed by nahashim. We desired to be fair and uphold the law of our lands, the laws that unite us, the laws that keep us safe, that keep us from reliving the mistakes of the past that led to an Empire drowned. And our laws clearly stated that her grace was to be exiled from Lumeria Nutavia. But,” the Emperor turned to the Imperator, his nephew, his face suddenly full of indulgence, “Imperator Kormac has a soft heart and a deep respect for Ka Batavia—as do we all.”
“Shekar arkasva!”
The shout came out of nowhere and was immediately silenced. I couldn’t find the source in the overcrowded stadium, but a black seraphim mask appeared in the distance before vanishing. I narrowed my eyes, seeing another appear in the corner of my vision, though just as quickly, it, too, was gone.
“And in his kindness and intelligence,” said the Emperor, “he foresaw an opportunity. A chance for her grace to prove herself. Not as a mage, for she was without magic. But with her own hands, her own strength. After all, akadim remain the greatest threat to our safety, and yet are the one aspect of Lumeria impervious to magic, a fact her grace was eager to remind everyone of during that fateful meeting when she convinced us to allow her this indulgence. And so tonight, the perfect opportunity has arisen. Her grace may prove herself as a soturion once and for all. And tonight, we shall put to the test just how impervious akadim are to mage magic.”
I turned back to the Emperor.What?
The sky darkened, and snow began to fall anew as the arena was cleared of the Emperor’s men and finally the Emperor himself.
I glanced back at Rhyan. He stared straight ahead as another door of the Katurium opened into the arena and a silver metal box was pushed through it. It stood over six feet tall with no visible opening in sight. What in Lumeria? Was it just solid silver? Four soturi were needed to pull it out, the box grating and creaking as it was pushed forward. Once it had fully cleared the door, they rushed back inside, and the familiar hum of a door being magically warded sounded in my ears.
The snow continued to fall, the frozen ground starting to dampen beneath my boots as the Emperor took his seat, surrounded by his men.
“Fear not for our bound guest,” said the Emperor, now seated high the stands. “We’ve all heard the rumors of Soturion Rhyan’s strength. Despite his reputation and past crimes, Soturion Rhyan has killed two akadim in the past four months alone.”
Rhyan seemed unmoved by the underhanded praise and insults. Instead, his face had gone white as his gaze remained fixated on the silver box. His good eyebrow had lifted in alarm.
“If Soturion Lyriana is unable to stop the threat tonight the way a proper soturion should, then, Soturion Rhyan, your bindings will be released so you might finish the work. My personal mage is on standby to free you on my command.”
“One hopes,” Rhyan yelled into the crowd, “your command is swift.”
The Emperor chuckled. “And we hope your binding doesn’t chafe too much, but we couldn’t risk Soturion Lyriana calling on kashonim, now could we? That would hardly be fair. This test is to assure us that she has soturion strength acquired through sheer will and muscle, and not a simple siphoning of the power of her apprentice.”
My entire body began to shake as realization dawned. They knew. They knew Rhyan had given me kashonim before the habibellum, they knew we had cheated.
“If Soturion Lyriana fails her test, then tonight, at least, we shall finally bear witness to Soturion Rhyan’s ability to slay an akadim.”
The crowd roared, and a blue spark of mage magic shot from the stands, hitting the front of the silver box. Flames of red and blue hissed their way around the border, creating the outline of a rectangle. A door.
The flames vanished, and the door began to slide off the box, slowly, the sound metallic and grating until it finally fell with a heavy thud on the arena’s snowy ground.
“No!” Rhyan yelled as the crowd filling the arena cried out in horror and disgust.
I stepped forward, my heart pounding, as tears filled my eyes.
A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, a figure with far too familiar curls of brown hair, the exact shade that adorned the heads of those in Ka Grey.
Haleika. Haleika in her forsaken form.
