He groaned when the last contestant – the prince – was announced. When the prince saw Res, the prince turned livid and he began to shout one obscenity after another at him. Res ignored the spit flying his way and continued his calm meditation. Another part of the colosseum's wall opened and three elderly men and a woman stepped out. Several servants pushing carts accompanied them. One of the male alchemists announced.
"Thank you all for coming today. It is good to see that the next generation has some talents as well. The council has decided that instead of the usual alchemy duels, we try a new form of testing. The gracious inventor of this method, Evudor, has named it 'social alchemy test'. We alchemists often need to banter with other alchemists for recipes and ingredients. It is a very important part of our work. This is why today you will be assigned one cartful of ingredients and utensils. You will have to create a potion within four hours with random ingredients. All the cart's contents are your possession which means they can't be stolen or damaged, but they can be traded. We will draw lots, now. Please, Master Ada, please pull a lot for candidate number one."
His hopes soared at the announcement as he could trade ingredients for a recipe. He had had already resigned himself to throwing random ingredients into a pot. The female alchemist drew the first lot. One by one, the participants received a cart full of alchemy equipment and ingredients. Finally, it was Res's turn.
"Candidate number five gets cart number four."
When the woman announced that Res would receive wagon number four, she smiled. Judging by the reaction, it didn't bode well for him. When he opened the top cover to his wagon, he was greeted by the sight of a sea of nuts. Just nuts. When he reached deeper into the sea of nuts, he felt nuts, nuts, and more nuts. He dug his way down to find anything of value until he finally pulled out something metallic.
Res stared at the small nutcracker in his hands. The other competitors had received a veritable mountain of different alchemy equipment. Some even had literal herb racks and everyone was trading with each other.
"Bro, what the fuck! The prince even fucking has a full alchemy bar with fucking stickers. He fucking has a recipe painted on his hands and now he has all the necessary ingredients? BULLSHIT."
For once, Res agreed flat out with Jason's assessment. As he always did when he didn't know a way out of a situation, he cracked a nut and sat down on his platform to think. The scornful mention of his name pulled him out of his contemplation and he turned to the source. When he saw it only was the prince on a tangent, he turned to his mind, but was stopped by Jason:
"That fucking bastard! Shit! I will fucking KILL HIM!"
Res had never experienced such rage from Jason, so instead asked the prince.
"Can you repeat that again for me please?"
The prince grinned and rested his jaw on his hand.
"So that is your way of coping with problems? Denying their existence? I have them all. ALL. Each one of those cute little puppies you call 'The young revolution'. I took each one of their delicate little cute faces into my hands … AND CUT THEIR HEADS OFF. I know that you love them, so I have thought: 'Why shouldn't I bring some of your little friends along to watch the tournament?'. You have to know that it was very expensive to reserve places at the highest point of the colosseum."
Time slowed down as he snapped his gaze up to where the elite guards had stood. Now, there was a spear propped up next to every elite palace guard.
"Is that …"
Res circulated aether in his eyes and the world turned crystal clear. At that moment, he wished that he hadn't circulated aether to improve his memory too – The image would haunt him forever. Impaled on the spear of the elite guard in front of him, was the head of a boy about ten years old. He watched as the blood dripped down from the head and collected in a small red pool on the floor. He couldn't tear his gaze away from those innocent eyes, those clever eyes, those … The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
"Elia.", Res gasped out. "Those eyes … It … " He swirled his head around and stopped when he saw a girl who was four years at most. "Why did they … Children?"
His breath came in shorter and shorter bursts. The analytical part of him realized that he was hyperventilating, but he didn't care. His eyes swiveled around the entire colosseum and he only saw impaled children's heads. The blood … The violence … Jason screamed in rage in the back of Res's mind while the prince continued his mocking laughter. For the first time in his life, the dark abyss of his mind enveloped him.
"Death … What is Death? Killing? Is killing a human being wrong? Killing in war? Killing to save yourself? Killing to save someone else? No, killing isn't wrong on itself. Should I have helped Brent in the sewers?"
Like a branch in the middle of a rushing stream, Res was swept away by a torrent of thoughts and doubts and he let it. His thoughts began to circle faster and faster. He only realized with a small part of his mind that he was building a mental prison for himself. The pull of the current got stronger and stronger and Res started to lose parts of himself. A voice called out to him and pulled him away from the tempting nothingness of the vortex in his mind. He was torn between the easy way out and the relentless shouting of that voice. The voice stopped its efforts and whispered.
"Please don't leave me."
The mental vortex in his mind didn't vanish, instead, he was pulled away. In an instant, he found himself back in his body with his eyes still closed.
"Bro, you were about to fucking go batshit. Not in a good way."
Res found a piece of his previous rationality and threw it away. Rage like he never felt filled his every word. "I am going to crush them. All of them. The royal family, the elite guard, and the council."
The only way the royal family could know about his hidden identity would be if they worked with the council. He opened his eyes and let them burn with all the rage he felt. What if the entire world was against him?
"Fuck yeah bro, that is the mentality. Show those fuckers what it means to mess with us."
"Jason?"
"Yes?"
"I don't fancy cracking open nuts. Let's cultivate. Let's prepare for war."
Through their bond, he could feel a mental war cry from Jason.