Pain. A pounding, splitting pain in my head drags me back to consciousness. My throat feels raw, and the damp chill of stone presses against my skin.
What the hell happened? We were dancing, laughing… drinking.
I try to move, but my arms won't respond. The clinking of chains echoes around me, cold and metallic against my wrists. Panic surges as I open my eyes, the dim light revealing the truth. Magick-blocking chains.
"No… no, no, no…" I pull against them, my breath coming in frantic gasps. "Not again..."
Dezirae. Was it her? Did she betray us?
Flashes of Alondra's face burn in my mind, a cruel reminder of how trust ends in betrayal. My chest tightens, a scream building in my throat. But nothing comes. Instead, tears blur my vision.
This world is merciless. And I'm the fool who keeps falling for it.
-----
The heavy echo of boots pulls me out of my spiral. My tears have long since dried, leaving only a dull ache in my chest.
The cell door screeches open, and two guards stride in. Without a word, they hoist me to my feet.
"C'mon, the warden wants to see ya," one says, dragging me forward. My legs barely manage to shuffle along, the cold floor blurring beneath me as I'm led down winding corridors.
We stop at a large wooden door, its surface scratched and warped with age. It creaks open, and I'm shoved inside, stumbling to my knees. I don't bother getting up.
"Stand, boy," a gruff voice commands.
I remain on the floor, staring at the scuffed boots in front of me.
"If you want your swordsman friend to live," the voice growls, "you'll stand."
Tsuki. He's alive.
Something flickers inside me—a shred of resolve. Gritting my teeth, I push myself to my feet, swaying as I face the man in front of me.
The warden is a mountain of a man, with a thick beard and a smile as crooked as the golden tooth gleaming at its center. His clothes are finer than a commoner's but lack the extravagance of nobility.
"I am Warden Jacques," he says, his voice dripping with smug authority. "And I have a proposition for you, boy."
He settles into his chair, gesturing grandly as if performing for an audience. "The Kingdom of Saxumidian has had a… reputation problem. We're surrounded by barren lands, and monsters litter the outskirts. Visitors? Rare. Business? Scarce."
I say nothing, my fists trembling at my sides.
"Simply put, we're bored." Jacques leans forward, his grin widening. "Our kingdom is strong—walls unbreachable, magicians unmatched. Even the great King Saxumidian could conquer the other kingdoms if he so chose. But what's the point of strength without a little fun?"
"Fun?" The word escapes me, low and bitter.
Jacques ignores my tone, spreading his arms theatrically. "We created The Game. A spectacle for nobles from all five kingdoms! Travelers like yourself, and the occasional slave, are pitted against each other in glorious combat. Blood, sweat, survival—it's all very entertaining."
My chest tightens. "And if someone wins?"
"They're free to leave," he says with a shrug. "Assuming they survive, of course. The odds aren't exactly in your favor." His tone is light, as if he's explaining the rules of chess.
"And Dezirae?" My voice shakes, anger bubbling beneath the surface.
Jacques chuckles. "Ah, yes. She's one of our village scouts. Clever, that one—until she failed, letting you and your friend beat the king's men to a pulp. She'll be… dealt with."
So the bandits were his. And Dezirae…
My stomach churns. I trusted her, danced with her, and she drugged us. For this.
"The villages on our outskirts," Jacques continues, "are rewarded with lifespan for every traveler they deliver. It's a fair trade, wouldn't you say?"
His words blur into the pounding in my head. My hands clench into fists, nails biting into my palms.
"You have two choices, boy." Jacques's voice snaps me back. "Enter The Game and fight for your freedom—or refuse and be worked to the bone as a slave." He leans back, mock sympathy twisting his features.
I glance at my timer: a little under 40 days left. Not much, but enough to see the end of this fight.
Images flash through my mind: Tsuki, loyal despite my failures. Dancing the night away with Dezirae. Alondra, smirking as I cried.
I won't let this world break me again.
Blood trickles from my palms as I lift my head to meet Jacques's gaze.
"Put me in The Game."