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My victory in the pits, my claim over Grace — it was all anyone could talk about.
Yet, amidst the chatter and the usual sounds of prison life, there was another melody — a soft, melodious tune that only I could hear.
It was the song of freedom, of a future outside these walls, with Grace by my side.
I couldn’t help but replay the moments with Grace in my mind, drawing strength from our shared determination.
With each step I took, the dream of a future outside Ikmal became more tangible.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t just a prisoner of Ikmal; I was its potential conqueror.
With Grace by my side, the impossible seemed within reach.
And as the lights dimmed, signaling the beginning of another night cycle in the prison, my heart was light, filled with dreams of tomorrow.
* * *
The routine of prison life continued.
Stepping into the commons, the cacophony of voices and the clank of prison-issued trays hit me first.
“Tix!”
The voice belonged to Mirek, a tall, lanky Aridian with blueish skin and three eyes.
He approached me, tentatively holding out a small pouch filled with credits. “For the dreams,” he murmured. “You’ve been a real lifesaver.”
The weight of the pouch in my hand was familiar.
Since discovering my abilities as a dreamwalker, I’d been helping many prisoners with their nightmares, a service for which they willingly paid.
The coolness of the credits was reassuring, even if their use was limited within the confines of the prison.
“You’ve been having them less frequently,” I noted, referring to Mirek’s nightmares.
He nodded, relief evident in his three eyes. “Thanks to you.”
Next, a cluster of prisoners approached, their eager faces familiar. “Tix, who are you betting on today? And are you entering the pits again?” Dalgor, the most talkative of the bunch, asked.
Dalgor and his group liked to bet on pit fights, always looking for an inside scoop.
With my recent reputation in the pits and my occasional foresight in betting, I was their best source of information.
Taking a bite of the food — the fish-nut taste hitting my taste buds simultaneously — I pondered for a moment. “I’ll be entering the pits today,” I began, relishing the intrigued expressions on their faces. “As for winning, it all depends on my opponents.”
Murmurs of anticipation rose among the group.
I was a new Champion and one that might just be worth betting on if yesterday was anything to go by.
Korvin, another prisoner, hesitantly approached, holding out a small container.
Appetizing Nylla fruit wafted towards me, a rare treat in Ikmal. “For helping me last night,” he said, keeping his voice low, gratitude apparent.
“Thank you, Korvin,” I replied, taking the container.
The smooth, soft skin of the fruit felt cool against my fingertips.
Biting into it, the juicy sweetness burst in my mouth, momentarily transporting me to memories of my home planet.
