Godspark

EREBOS

Pyrrhus

"Again," the doctore shouts as Kane stands up and tries his form for the sixth time. In recent weeks he has impressed his masters with his performance in the pits and they have come to see the possibility of elevating him to higher station, if there is ever such a thing for a slave. 

Kane moves with swiftness that defies belief, his body seems to glide through the air like a feather on the wind. Even the doctore is astonished by the young man's agility and skill. Initially deemed too fresh for the rigors of the arena, Kane has swiftly roved his undeniable talent.

"Enough. You are light on your feet, that is good but you are not yet ready for the great colosseum. Take rest and break bread," "Yes Doctore," Kane says and gives a light bow. 

He sits at the back of the open courtyard where some of the gladiators still train, against the hot walls of the compound's fence, heat that he has become accustomed to. 

"Here," a man comes along, offering a bowl of steaming soup and a crusty loaf of bread, "Thank you, Emmet" Kane replies.

"You are looking sharp on the sands," Emmet says, "The sharper I look, the more I received glaring gazes" Kane says while taking a quick glance at a few slaves who glare at him.

"Can't blame them. This is Pyrrhus, land of slaves and you are favoured amongst slaves. Of course, they will resent you," Emmet sits beside him and begins to eat from his own bowl.

Kane's gaze flickers to Emmet's pointed ears and rich brown hair, "But not you," he says, his voice tinged with a weary resignation. "Please, I'm part elf. I am looked upon as an outsider by both man and elves, forever caught between two worlds" Emmet says.

Kane scoffs, a hint of amusement in his eyes, "In a world where beast people exist, that's a bit rich" he says.

Emmet shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips, "None are more prejudiced than the elves, my friend. Yet, even our kind are not immune to slavery", his gaze drifts towards an elf slave attending to Lady Frieda, the mistress of Grimstone, a stark reminder of the hypocrisy that pervades their society.

"You have a thing for her?" Kane notices, "I have a thing for all women," Emmet laughs.

"But you are the one that attracts the most venomous of women," Emmet says while using his eyes to convey a silent warning. Kane, noticing Raven approaching, immediately understands. "Fuck," "That is the right word," Emmet says and leaves before Raven arrives.

She walks straight covered in her crimson and black attire. Kane has come to know the women of uniform to be called The Sith. Women trained in heinous knowledge of combat magic, loyal to their masters and torturous to those considered anything else. Raven's braided black hair lies on one side of her shoulders as her gaze stays on Kane whom does his best to finish the soup before she arrives.

Alas, he cannot as hot soup on his wet tongue has never been his strong suit, a common foe his past and present life shares.

"Slave," Raven calls him as she always does. Kane, mid-meal, rises, bread still clutched in his hand, his bowl abandoned on the floor. "Come with me, slave" she commands, "Lord Barabas will have words with you," "May I finish my breakfast?", he requests. 

Her response is swift and brutal. A vicious backhand sends the bread flying from his grasp, followed by a searing beam of red light that obliterates his bowl of soup, "Breakfast is over. Now move or bleed," she says.

"Is there a third option?" And with that he receives a punch to his gut, "I will not repeat myself slave," she says. 

Kane spits and stands up, "I would say lead the way but the view would be terrible," "What did you say?" "Nothing," he says and hastens in his walk. Amongst the Siths, Raven is the only one that seems to hold a grudge against him since the day he was bought at Slave Harbour; for reasons he does not know.

He walks instinctively toward Lord Barabas' chambers but she stops him and redirects him to the public chambers where they find Barabas, Memnuh, Lady Frieda and a few unknown faces discussing. 

Kane stands aside, awaiting his masters' summons. Barabas gestures for him to approach. His gaze immediately seeks out the woman shrouded in hooded garments at the room's rear. "Emilia", he whispers, some joy lifts his heart to see her but he must return his mind to the present.

"Yes. Felix, I'd like you to meet a slave I hold dear. His name is Kane," Barabas says as he introduces Kane to the man. Felix, bald and portly, exudes an air of wealth. His skin is smooth as a newborn's, though his hands betray the passage of time with a network of fine wrinkles, "He is quite young," Felix observes, a calculating glint in his eyes, "He will be an easy picking in the arena. He would not last," he says.

"Your wife would say otherwise" intrusive thoughts that do not escape his lips, "He has potential Felix, he has only been introduced in the pits but he has eight victories to his name already" Barabas says.

 "Trust Barabas, my brother has a good eye for these things," Memnuh says, "I don't blame Felix for not seeing what Barabas sees. I too, find it hard to believe that this one can make much of an impression in the colosseum. He is far too young," Frieda says while her eyes observe the slave from head to toe. 

"He is a fine specimen, I honestly don't see how you can turn him into a gladiator. There are other ways he can be put to use," she says and takes a sip of her drink, her dark eyes watch him with subtlety. 

"I couldn't agree more," Felix says while licking his lips, "You are not fucking my slave Felix," Barabas says to him, "Come to the pits tomorrow, you will see what he can do. Besides I'm not prepping him for the coming games, it is true he is still inexperienced but he learns fast" he says and waves his hand away for Raven to take Kane away.

Kane's belly rumbles but he dares not to speak, not while his masters have company. He walks with seethed feelings in his chest, since the day he and Emilia landed on the shores of Pyrrhus but he has kept calm, watching and learning. 

So far, he has learnt that Pyrrhus is on the continent of Erebos, one where slave trade and thuggery is a norm. 

Almost every free man in Pyrrhus is equipped enough to rob and kill you but it is the slaves that have it worse. People with no human value, sometimes even used as bait to hunt wild beasts.

Of course, Kane and Emilia are spared from such fate. He has the goddess to thank for that as it his looks that first makes him stand out and then his character as an ill-tempered man, a quality that quickly saw him to the pits. 

He feels this world changing him, with absence of his old memories and a wash over character inherited from past life. Like the man he was, slowly dies and the man Kane is begins to wake. A truly strange feeling.

He walks out of the mansion and is reminded of the dark clouds that act as blinds against the sun yet they do nothing for the heat that plagues Pyrrhus. "I hope they put in the arena so do well in the pits," Raven says, not out of support he is sure.

"So that all of Pyrrhus will call my name and I will be worthy of your affection," he says and he can see the Sith clench her fists as her face turn to a frown. "You require correction you insolent…" before she can finish those words, a blast has her and Kane flying to opposite directions.

Balls of fire rain down on the compound as flaming birds fly over them. Kane has discovered that the most unpredictable aspect of Pyrrhus is the constant threat of monstrous encounters, particularly the fiery creatures that emerge from the volcano bordering the nation. One of such beasts descends upon the mansion's rooftop. Birds adorned in flames, yet seemingly impervious to their scorching touch.

The bird screams and spreads its wings, fire spreads and flies out of its wings at different directions, burning the unfortunate. 

"Take cover," the guards shout while The Siths try to fight back the monster with their magic. Kane just stares, eyes fixed on the battle as The Siths find their way to the top of the mansion, throwing spells at it while dodging attacks of its own. Debris fall off from the room as the beasts talons tear at the brick.

It takes a hit and falls off the roof and down to the grounds where gladiators train, they charge with the excitement of glory, for killing this monster would be a feat to command, a madness Kane himself refuses to participate in. 

When he arrived this country he saw monster in cages at Slave Harbour but he never thought he would face one, at least not yet. The bird spits flames on a few gladiators before The Siths join the battle on the ground. 

A fiery maelstrom erupts around them, licking towards Raven and himself. Temptation surges through him as Raven, still disoriented, struggles to regain her balance. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he effortlessly lifts the Sith out of harm's way, the flames now lapping at the walls. 

Raven, finally regaining her senses, unleashes a powerful punch to Kane's abdomen, forcing him to release her and crumple to the floor.

She doesn't hesitate, breaking free from his grasp and rejoining the fray. He watches, his hands instinctively clutching his abdomen, as her comrades dispatch the beast. Blood trickles down the creature's wounds, the air thick with acrid smoke that rises from it, the crimson liquid shimmering with the iridescent hues of molten lava.

Kane suddenly feels a headache, he groans and falls on one knee. Knees to the ground as his vision takes a brief blurriness but with sight returned, he questions his sanity as he finds himself kneeling in a field of burnt flowers and corpses. 

He looks up to see a moon shaped object stuck in the walls above. Encased in the earth above his head like the skies, he knows this place. How is he here?

ELSEWHERE

In the shadows away in unknown kingdoms, secrets brew and evil lingers, waiting for the right time to present itself. In a chamber of oppressive stone, where an altar of the same grim material dominates, a man stands rigid. Clad in Stygian armour, his short white hair stark against the gloom, his red eyes gleam with an unsettling intensity.

A black cape drapes from his shoulders and his gloved hand traces the rough-hewn surface of the altar, a testament to countless rituals performed upon it. A curious glyph, etched into his forehead, adds to the air of enigma that surrounds him.

He feels the presence of magic as a vortex appears in the dark room, the man turns and places his focus on the portal before him. Anarchy walks out of the portal, walking ever so bold before stopping, he goes down on one knee and bows his head. 

"Rise Anarchy, what news do you bring me?" "We have ravaged Eden, there are no dark elves anymore. Their race almost extinct as the little left have been turned to slaves. I intend to send them to Erebos for sale," he says.

"I see, but you must know that I do not care about the elves. What of my prize?" "Well my lord, Mani is hard to pry from the earth. My men have dug and reached a point when they can touch it but still they are unable to pull it off the earth," "You have magic Anarchy," the man raises his voice, "My powers have no effect on the underground moon my lord. That is why I have come to ask you for your aid," Anarchy says.

The man rolls his eyes, "Open the portal and let us be on our way,".