Ghosts

[Therin]

Light flickered, then flared into a glaring brightness, dying my closed eyelids red. Red, like blood. Like the blood of...No. Not now. I needed my faculties now. I opened my eyes, blinking, trying to adjust to torchlight after infinity in darkness. When I finally could see again, what met my eyes blew all thoughts of mental alertness out of my head. I launched myself forward, hands coming up to wring, to tear, to snap, to-
Chains stretching from manacles on my wrists to iron hooks that had been bored into the solid stone dungeon wall snapped tight, and I froze, straining with all my might, the muscles and cords in my arms standing out visibly.
"You."
It was a grunt, barely audible, but it carried a lifetime of hatred and agony. If looks could kill, my eyes would have blasted a whole in the wall behind him. It had been many, many years, but I would never forget that face, once handsome, now scarred to a permanent scowl. If I could have smiled, I would have; I had been the source of those scars. But he did not deserve a smile.

He gave one, though. A smile that didn't touch his eyes, his cold gray eyes. As though his mind and his body were two different people, nothing ever touched those eyes.
"I'm glad you remember me, sewer rat. I would have been exceedingly dissappointed, after all the hardship I entured to acquire you, to have you forget those days. You fought well, you know. Very well, indeed. Few could have survived those tunnels."

"I fought as hard as I needed to." My voice was flat, my face deadpan, but that was a lie. I hadn't fought hard enough to save them. Katrine, Emara, Jephry, Feiran...Little Caeldra...I forced myself to stop at Caeldra, even as her face flashed in front of my eyes, blue eyes screwed shut in mirth, dimpled cheeks grinning for all they were worth...Then beaten. Half of her face had been completely annihilated, nothing left but oozing gore. And she had been the only one to die quickly.

"Did you," he said flatly, his smile warping into a smirk. That was all.
I stepped back, let the chain, and my arms, shaking uncontrollably from the continued strain, fall slack. My eyes never left his face. He had seen all that I had; he had a way with things like that. He raised an eyebrow at me, and jumped to another subject, still smirking. "Aren't you going to ask me why? Why, Lord Thyron, did you endure such unspeakable hardships, such undreamt of horrors, just to lock me down here in this dungeon? Aren't you even the least bit curious?"

"Don't care," I spat.

"Oh?" He looked put out, but that was no surprise. He took no greater joy than in gloating over things. No point in giving him undue cause for enjoyment. "Well, you will, soon enough. Or you'll find out. Either way, I'm sure you'll find it a generous offer, if you puzzle out what it is in time to think it over," he finished lightly, tipping an imaginary hat to me as he turned back to the cell door, "Until then, I bid you goodnight."

As soon as the door closed, I lunged against the chains once more, straining with every bit of strength, until sweat popped out on my forehead. The guards had heard me do this many times before, and had long since stopped looking in to find out what was going on. Maybe this time, the chains would break, and I could kill them the way they had killed my family. Or maybe not this time. I let the chains to slack long enough for my arms to stop shaking, then lunged once more, snapping them rigid. Maybe the next time. Or the time after that.

[Therin]

I jerked awake, eyes quickly scanning the room out of habit. In the tunnels, you slept with one eye open, or you died. Here, however, was the opposite.

The rear wall was still solid stone, gray green, plus the occasional luminescent lichen, the partition sidewalls were still there, still made of huge granite blocks cemented together, the door was still solid oak. The chains on my arms remained the only thing in the room besides myself, and they remained embedded deep into the rear wall. This entire row of cells had been carved out of a mountain, and I had woken to the same sight every morning for the last...I didn't know how long. In the prison beneath the mountain, there was no day, no night. The world was outside, moving forward, but I was here, and here was nowhere.

A key rattled in the lock of the cell door. By the time the door cracked open, I was on my feet, standing just forward of the back wall. This time, when he entered, I remained motionless, giving him an unblinking stare even before he turned to face me. When he did, it was with thoughtful deliberation. At least he wasn't smirking. At first, he didn't look at me, instead fixing his gaze on a point six inches below my feet as he ran his fingers over the thin bristle on his chin. When he spoke, his voice was also thoughtful.

"I wonder, Slave, if perchance we got off on the wrong foot, so long ago. Do you think?"

I remained silent. I knew him better.

"I mean, it is intriguing, is it not, how you seem to survive things that would send a Newblood twice your age into gibbering madness? Things that most of us do not even have nightmares about."

I still hadn't blinked.

He stepped closer, still deep in thought, gesturing slowly with one hand while the other cupped his chin. He still hadn't looks up at me yet. "Where could a mere Slave have gotten such strength? Such determination? Your life is destined to be worthless, no matter how hard you try, yet try you do. How did you recieve these gifts?"

One more step, and that was the end. I shot forward like a trihorned gorbal in a killing leap, my hands clapped around his neck, I bore down with all my strength...and froze. My hands dropped to my sides, chains clanking metallic laughter. My eyes narrowed. Dangling from his hand was a pendant on a thin gold chain: a gold ring surrounding a five-pointed star, which was missing its topmost appendage. It seemed, to my eyes, to glow with an unnatural light, filling the room with brightness. My cornier.

"Where did you get that."

The smirk slid onto his face as he slipped it back up one voluminous sleeve and began to circle, eyeing me up and down. "Where, indeed? One wonders these things. One wonders. One wonders, as well, why it holds such power over you? Why you," he continued, stepping daintily over the iron links behind me, "Chain yourself to such an insignifigant object? The old gods have long been a subject of interest to me, but I must confess bewilderment at this particular custom."

I remained silent, waiting for him to get to the point. He completed a full circle and came to a stop, looking up at me, his sharp blue eyes meeting mine. He was tall, for a Newblood. Now I was about to find out what he wanted. He leaned forward, grabbed the collar of my tattered sleeveless shirt, and tore it apart, ripping the entire garment to shreds, and began running his fingers across my chest, over the tight, corded muscles in my arms, down to my torso. I gave, and felt, no reaction. When it burns hot enough, hatred sears everything else to ash.

He stepped back, ran his toungue around his lips, as though in anticipation of a tasty meal. "Fight for me, Kyle."

"You have guards. You don't need another."

"Oh, no, you mistake my meaning. I want you to play our sport, in my name."

"Sport."

"The greatest of all time," he said, grinning widely, "Death."

"I get enough of that already."

He frowned, and reached into his sleeve as though to show the cornier again. "I hold your life. You must obey!"

I almost smirked. Almost. "You hold my life. I can't touch you. Obedience, you have to earn."

He paused, then smiled, stepping up on tiptoe to whisper in my ear. "Think of it as...payback. Blood for blood."

My eyes narrowed, still fixed on the door. "The only blood I want," I growled, "Is yours."

"We shall see." He stepped back, then turned and left. I heard the key turn in the lock, and turned to stare at the lichens that glowed on the walls as the list began to scroll through my head again.

Jon.
Kiera.
Feiran.
Tyne.
...Caeldra...

[Akanari]

Very nice ^^ I want moreeeeee

[Sketch]

^^ Well written I could see everything very clearly ^^

...But I do have a question if you don’t mind? ^^
Why was this man after Kyle and his family in the first place in the beginning?

heh I guess I’ll have to be patient and wait for the answer ^_^+2

[Daijaga]

This is remincient so far of the story with the prison guy - we're repeatedly taken back to a limited scene with little in it but two men playing a verbal spare back and forth. Its really interesting that you can keep the intensity up in a situation like this with only a limited amount of descriptive items to work with. As always, your style impresses me, thanks for sharing with us.

[Amberhosen]

pretty cool. It's amazing how you make the story seem so incredibly deep with only two pages(ish) put into it. Write mooooooooooooooore!

[Therin]

I was already awake when the key turned in the lock, and four guards came into my cell. Two stationed themselves on either side of the heavy door while the other two bent over the hooks embedded in the wall behind me. I ignored them until I feld the chains go slack.

Then I put all that long practice finally to use, lunging forward against the chains, yanking the two newbloods from their feet and dragging them across the floor. I got to the door, and shouldered through it, ignoring the yells behind me. The other two guards dove on the chains as they reached the doorway to the cell, and I was brought to a halt when the four of them got stuck. I pulled harder, one foot in front of the other, slamming forward with implacable strength, and broke free of their hands all together, and into a run. I got three steps, and ran into a sickening miasma of fumes, the air was thick, like walking through porridge, and though I wasn't breathing heavily, every breath threatened to empty my stomach onto the stone floor at my feet. I kept going, and my eyes started to burn, tears welling and coursing down my face. My lungs began to itch, sending me into racking, choking coughs that felt as though my chest was being forcibly turned inside out. One more step. Another. Another after that. Something slammed into the back of my head, and I toppled. My last thought as blackness circled over my eyes was that, if this was any example, fighting in a newblood arena was going to be easy.

If those guards had been forced to survive even a single month down in the tunnels, I'd have been dead before I reached the door.

I awoke to blackness, tested the chains. They held. I was bolted to the wall again, then.

"Ahh, welcome back to the world of the wakeful." His voice, soft and mellifluous.

I staggered blindly to my feet, lunged forward against the chains, strained until my arms burned.

"That sunt you pulled was foolish and obnoxious, and it cost you your first fight. You escaped, driven mad by fear, and were unable to be caught in time for the fight. Most of the crowd laughed."

I grunted in response, still straining. I could hear the chains rattle as my arms shook against them, knew he stood behind me, to the right of them. He knew nothing of fear. I would teach him, soon enough.

"You will not do that again. I do not have the patience for your childish tantrums."

"Get better guards." It was a quick exhalation between heavy breaths. If I could see, I would be able to look down and see sweat coursing down my arms, over the bulge of tight muscle and tendon.

He stroked his fingers across my cornier. I knew, because it sent shivers down my spine. "Escape is pointless, Kyle. Where would you run? You don't even know where you are."

I almost laughed. He thought I was trying to escape. No, my friend, escape would indeed be pointless. I would rather be close to you, so that when you feel the blade coming for you, you will know it is I who drive it.

[shadokastur]

Wow, Therin I'm very imrpessed. excellent writing my favorite parts were:

" A smile that didn't touch his eyes..." excellent line.

and

"Jon.
Kiera.
Feiran.
Tyne.
...Caeldra..." like a haunting refrain.

Very well done.

[Chrysia]

Great stuff, Therin. I like the imagery and the word choices that you use. It just adds a little extra style to it. Great job! Keep it up.

[Therin]

I waited. The cell had been empty mere hours ago, now its steel bars had been reinforced with newblood sorcery. He was taking no chances. I didn't care. This cage would open of its own volition when the time was right.

Jara, my wife, had told me stories once, of the unimaginable vastness of the Grand Arena. I saw them confirmed now, as I looked out through the bars, across what seemed like a solid mile of open sand, ground fine and pounded flat by rollers in perparation for the coming wave of chaos. The cell across the arena from mine was so far away that I could discern no more detail of its occupant than a vague man shape, crouched in wait behind the bars. Cells were spaced in intervals around the entire perimeter of the arena. Enough cells to house an army.

I wished Jara could be here, wished the twins were here, my mother, father, my neice...They would have been amazed. I could almost hear them gasping in awe as they stood outside the mammoth ring of stone and metal, and stared from the ground up the twenty or so stories to the upper balcony.

The old tunnels had a way of destroying wishes.

Then the bars into the ceiling, and I was unleashed.

The first thing you learn in the tunnels is never to stop moving. I blasted forward, legs pumping like pistons, eyes scanning the surrounding arena as the ground flashed beneath my feet. Fifteen. Fifteen newbloods. Fifteen magic users, and one truehuman. And only one would survive. I angled toward the nearest one, a tall, whiplike man with a scar that jagged from his temple across his nose and cheek. His eyes were on the other casters, his hands glowing with elemental energies when I slammed him into the wall with enough force to smash his chest. Casters couldn't cast while running. I glanced off the wall to retain my speed, and charged at the next one. He saw me coming at the last minute, and redirected his spell, but not soon enough. I leapt over a blinding bolt of lightning, which tore a hole in the wall behind me, and landed on him, shattering his skull against the ground with a wet crack. My eyes searched for the next target. He already had his eyes on me, hands stroking the air like a lover, burning with fiery power. I leapt forward, and was launched into the air by the explosion that incinerated the body where I had been standing. I landed, rolled long enough to change direction, and launched myself at him, tackling him hard. I slammed folded knuckles into his throat, heard a crunch, and leapt forward, eyes scanning again. Three down, five dead by the hands of others, seven left. The fourth saw he wouldn't be able to hit me from afar, conjured a heavy sword in his strong arms and hefted it as I came on. I slowed, jogged until I was in range. He raised the sword, and died. I darted forward, slammed my elbow into his nose, ripped the sword from his hands, whirled, and severed his neck in a spray of blood, bone, and spinal fluid. I continued the motion, whirled again, and launched the sword sidelong at the fifth combatant. It whistled through the air and exploded through his torso, misting the air with red. I looked around. One left. His eyes were red with battle light.

I started walking, circling the perimeter of the arena, eyeing him up and down. He stood in the middle, and turned to watch me. Suddenly, his hands came up, and I dove forward. A huge stone spike slammed into the ground where I had been. I came to my feet, and to a run, sprinting along the wall. The earth heaved in my footsteps, rippling and cracking behind me. I pushed harder, strained for speed, the wall whipping by my shoulder in a blur. A huge sphere, shining with flame, soared up from the center of the arena, arced high over head. I saw where it was going to land, ran faster, every muscle screaming as I raced forward. The massive sphere began to fall with deceptive speed, seeming to move in slow motion even as it streaked toward the ground. I ran harder, feeling the heat even from where I was. I dove forward at the last second, rolled underneath, scorching my skin on the heated sand, felt my fingers close on metal, and with an explosion of powerful legs launched myself up and away. The explosion blasted me high into the air, and I was able to look down and see the arena the way a bird might; a large circle filled with midgets. I landed in the stands, with a crash. The spectators had seen me coming and moved as fast as possible, but they backed farther away now, watching the smoke rise from my heaving shoulders and from the sword in my right hand. My head came up, and I dashed forward, performing a graceful spinning leap from the balcony over the arena. I let the sword slip from my hands, saw it bury itself in the sand, saw him ignore it and keep his attention on me, take careful aim. Good. I landed and was in the air again, bouncing like I was on springs, watching the volley of spikes rattle under my head. When I hit the ground a second time, I rolled forward, felt something whoosh past above me. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I jumped once more, ripping the sword from the sand in my way up. When I came down, I slammed the sword down hard enough to bury it hilt deep in the sand. I froze there, crouched, breathing hard. His left half toppled to the side. His right half fell forward, drenching me in fluid. I brushed it to the side and came to my feet, raising the bloody sword into the air.

Silence greeted the victory of a truehuman.