The sound of soft knocking pulled Kaiden from restless sleep. He opened his eyes, groggy and disoriented, to see the sunlight bleeding through the cracks in the window shutters. The scent of freshly brewed tea wafted into his room as the door creaked open.
A woman stepped in, her figure framed by the soft light. She was beautiful in a way that didn't seem forced—her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders and her hazel eyes warm with kindness. She carried herself with an air of quiet strength, her simple dress doing little to mask her natural grace.
"Good morning," she said, her voice soothing yet firm. "Lady Seris asked me to wake you. Breakfast is ready downstairs."
Kaiden rubbed his eyes, sitting up slowly. "Who are you?"
"Elira," she replied, offering him a small smile. "I run this inn. Now, get up before the food gets cold. Lady Seris was very clear about you eating before heading to the coliseum."
Small Talk and Realizations
As Kaiden followed Elira downstairs, the inn bustled with activity. The tables were filled with travelers of all races and backgrounds, their conversations blending into a lively hum. The sight was jarring compared to the cold, calculated world of the coliseum.
Elira set a plate in front of him and took a seat nearby, observing him with curious eyes. "You're not like most fighters I see here," she said after a moment.
Kaiden raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"You still have a softness to you," she said. "Most fighters lose that after their first few matches. But you…" She tilted her head. "You're different."
He scoffed, poking at his food. "Different, huh? Don't let Seris hear you say that."
Elira laughed lightly. "Lady Seris isn't as complicated as she seems. She's just doing what she needs to survive, same as everyone else."
Kaiden frowned. "How do you even know her? You don't seem like the type to work with someone like her."
Her smile faltered slightly. "Lady Seris is one of the seven low-class nobles in this region. They're responsible for funding villages like this one. Without her, this inn—and this village—wouldn't exist."
Kaiden froze. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Of course Seris would know where he was if he tried to escape. This was her domain. She didn't just own him—she owned everything around him.
Elira noticed his change in demeanor and leaned forward. "You're thinking about running, aren't you?" she asked softly.
He didn't answer, but his silence was enough.
"Don't," she said firmly. "Lady Seris doesn't make idle threats. She has eyes everywhere."
The System of Control
Elira stood and began clearing the table, her tone turning somber. "The nobles… they're not like you and me. They play a different game, one of power and control. Lady Seris is one of seven low-class nobles in this region."
She listed their names one by one:
Lord Ventarion, a cunning tactician who controlled the largest port in the region.Lady Dravisa, known for her ruthless dealings in trade and smuggling.Baron Halkor, a brutish figure who ran the region's mines.Countess Velira, infamous for her cruel experiments with magic.Lord Kasir, a charismatic manipulator with ties to the black market.Dame Rianya, a warrior who ruled through intimidation and fear.Lady Seris, the weakest of the seven, whose only strength lay in her ability to secure fighters for the coliseum.
"The nobles use fighters like you to gain more influence," Elira explained. "The coliseum isn't just entertainment—it's a battleground for their power struggles. The stronger your performance, the more funding and control Lady Seris gets. But don't think for a second they care about you. Fighters in bronze are disposable unless they show potential to reach the golden ranks."
Kaiden clenched his fists under the table. He had never felt so trapped.
Thrown into the Fire
After finishing his meal, Kaiden made his way to the coliseum. The registrar greeted him with his usual smirk, handing him a small token to signify his next match.
"You'll be fighting every day until your quota is met," the man said. "Lady Seris left specific instructions. Don't disappoint her."
Kaiden's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
A male slave, barely older than Kaiden himself, approached hesitantly. "I'm here to show you around," he said, his voice trembling.
Kaiden followed him through the labyrinthine halls of the coliseum. The boy's thin frame and hollow eyes spoke volumes about his life of servitude.
"Do you… fight too?" Kaiden asked, his voice softer than usual.
The boy shook his head. "No. I'm not strong enough. They keep me around to clean and run errands."
Kaiden felt a pang of empathy. He had never thought much about the other slaves under Seris's control.
When they reached the training room, the boy handed Kaiden a small towel and a flask of water. "Your next match is in three hours," he said. "Good luck."
Rediscovering the Flow
Alone in the training room, Kaiden finally had a moment to himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the tension in his body dissipate.
The flow.
It had been months since he'd felt it. The grueling training, the constant battles—it had dulled his connection to the instinctive rhythm that once guided him.
He gripped his short sword and began moving through the stances Garin had drilled into him. The movements felt foreign at first, his muscles stiff and uncooperative. But with each swing, he felt the flow returning, like a river slowly breaking through a dam.
The flow wasn't just a technique—it was a state of being. It was clarity in chaos, a quiet mind amidst the noise.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Kaiden felt a sliver of control over his fate.
The Chains Remain
As he prepared for his next match, Kaiden couldn't help but think about Elira's words. The chains binding him weren't physical, but they were no less real.
Lady Seris's control over him was absolute, but for how long?
One day, he thought, these chains will break. And when they do, I'll make sure no one ever binds me again.