Mud all around, all over my body. In my mouth, covered on the rags I wear. I'm thrown into it day and night. I hate it. Forced to fight as a slave in the pit, as the cheers of amused spectators fill my ears.
Born a slave and to die a slave, never knowing freedom. I long for it the most. But why must I suffer so, while the pig spectators enjoy lives of luxury, finding enjoyment in watching a child fight grown men and beasts?
After the fighting is over, they return to their luxury islands. I'm thrown into my cell, a small, cold, and dark room. A bed? What is that? A warm meal? I haven't heard of it. So cold... I've gotten used to it. At least I pretend I have. Here, comfort isn't meant to exist.
Lying down on the cement floor, I dream of freedom, hoping one day a miracle will come, knowing in my heart it won't.
There are no miracles here.
Morning comes. The sun shines subtly through the cracks of my cell. Another day... sometimes I wish I'd never wake up.
They drag my small body in chains, throwing me into a bigger cell. The "mess hall" they call it. It's just another pit to me. Several other slaves are thrown in, as well as a bucket of slop. Cold, disgusting slop. A mixture of the guards leftovers. And we are to fight over it... how pitiful.
The men rush to the bucket, they have become nothing but mindless beasts. Completely given up on gaining freedom.
They beat and bite each other in a savage manner.
A pale boy, I've never seen before stands in a corner, scared. He will learn soon enough... this place doesn't care if your afraid.
My black eyes shine with blue radiance.
***
After having my fill with the bucket of slop, I toss it to the pale boy. He looks at it, then at me, confused. I tilt my head "well are you going to eat or starve?", I ask him. "T-Thank you..." He replies, weakly.
The bucket is smacked out of his hand before he could eat a single bite. "Time's up" the guard says, coldly. The pale boy bites his bottom lip and clenches his fists in anger, in all his life he had never received anything from anyone. This was the first time... and this bastard just took it away.
He's angry but his also weak, so he's beat bloody by the guard.
I like this kid.
It's time to fight in the pits. Dragged once again in cold chains. I'm thrown into the mud. Earthy, damp mud. The smell penetrates into my nostrils. I'm sick of it. The crowd has gathered. All noblemen. They are at the top of this broken world, at least that's what they'd like to think.
In truth the world belongs to the sea and that which dwells within it. Long ago the sea decided that it had enough of the human scum who polluted it and simply rose higher... and higher. Wiping out entire continents. With the seas rise came sea monsters. Leviathans of all shapes and sizes, flood the seas, as if to protect them.
The seven seas... I'd like to explore them someday.
The spectators cheers grow louder as a huge sea serpent slithers into the mud filled pit. It's big enough to fill my small cell. The serpents fangs are sharp, it's eyes fierce. It raises it self higher as to intimidate it's small prey.
The protective iron cage prevents it from rising any higher. Guards stand ready with stun darts, either that or flintlocks, though they'd prefer not to kill the entertainment.
I stand still, staring up at the beast. Not in terror, rather I find sea monsters rather interesting. I'd like to write about them one day... once I learn how to write.
The spectators grow impatient and begin throwing small stones at me. Pigs. Someone accidentally threw a small candy at me.
The owner of this fine establishment frowns at my lack of performance and grips his leather whip tightly in his meaty fists.
Sigh. I should get this over with. The serpent lunges at me before I can do anything. I simply fall into the mud, disappearing in it. The serpents fierce eyes search for me, frantically. Poor thing must be starved as well.
Let me put you out of your misery.
Blue flames of my own making engulf the inside of the pit. The flames are cold... at least they are to humans. Sea monsters on the other hand, incinerate under the flames pressure.
The serpent squirms in pain... reduced to nothing but a worm. The crowd grows louder. Cheers all around. Not for me. For themselves, happy with themselves for betting on the winner.
The flames dissipate. So does the cold that consumes me when I use them. The chilling cold, as if I was plunged into an ice bath.
Shackled in cold chains once again. I'm dragged back to my cell. Before reaching my cell the guard stops, suddenly. Throwing me to the floor, he begins bowing his head slightly.
The owner has come to punish me.
His guards dump buckets of cold water on me. Washing away the mud, not completely. My long black hair is still covered in it.
The owner stands over me with a frown. "You've upset my guests, boy... you know what that means.", he lashes the whip in the air, creating a sharp sound.
My bare, olive-skinned back infront of him.
Breath in. Breath out. I calm myself.
'One' The whip strikes.
'Two' Again.
'Three...' Again...
It goes on until his satisfied.
***
I lay on my stomach in the dark cell, as I cannot lay on my back. It burns so I summon my flames to cool it. Somehow it only makes it worse. Though I don't put it out.
I play with it in the palm of my hand. I loath this power of mine. The power that attracts greed.
The power that I will use to gain freedom.
The power of my "Bloodline".