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They come into view, one holding a small tray of food, or at least that’s what it is supposed to be. The slop is gray in color, and the smell is vile, but I cannot be picky in my precarious predicament, still needing nutrition, whatever form that may arrive in.
They are not the same guards from last night, both still tall enough to tower over me, though one is slightly shorter than the other. The one gripping the tray holds nothing but suspicion and disgust in his eyes, something I’ve come to expect from all the Caligo guards, so I am surprised to see a look of confusion and intrigue in the one behind him. The suspicious one has a small scar on his neck. The wound is still red, identifying it as a recent injury. His thin lips are pulled back in a sneer, and he’s holding the tray so tightly he is possibly imagining flinging it over me.
His dull brown eyes and hair remind me of the murky sludge in the fields. Whereas his features are sharp and harsh, the other guard’s are gentle, though no less hardened. His deep blue eyes betray a wealth of emotion, which I do not desire to discover.
The guard with the scar bends down and snarls at me, his sharp eyes never leaving mine as he slides the metal tray across the filthy floor. It stops a few feet in front of me, and the guard who deposited such a feast raises an eyebrow, waiting for some sort of reaction. One he won’t receive, not yet at least.
Foul food does not bother me. I have lived on worse before, sometimes barely scraping by on stale bread and water alone.
I scent it for any poisons, not smelling any, and soon wolf down the slop, using the hard bread and water to wash down the lumpy texture.
The guard sneers at me, annoyed I have not given him an excuse for a beating.
“Be quick about it.”
While drinking the last of my water, I keep an eye on both guards, mindful of their nature, especially the one who looks on intently. His curious glances carry nothing but trouble.
Once I have finished my meal, the scarred guard steps forward, ready to release me from my cell. I watch as he reaches behind his back to retrieve keys.
Just as he places the key inside the lock, he hesitates. “Do not try anything stupid, or you will find yourself at the end of my blade.”
I am not bothered by his threat but more interested in the fact that they have me trapped inside an average cell. One that opens and closes with a simple key, not sealed by any form of power. I had heard of the Caligo cells that could lock even the strongest of Caligo inside, their powers only useful as a parlor trick to pass the time.
With watchful eyes around my arrival last night, I didn’t get the chance for a proper inspection to check the limitations of the cell I was in.
I keep my smirk to myself as he drags me out, while the other guard walks a step behind me.Clever man.
The scarred guard shoves me as he moves in front of me, effectively blocking me in with the other guard. We walk along the same corridors they brought me through yesterday but take a different turn at the end, coming out into a long entrance hall full of doors. I count each one as we pass them, finally reaching the end, where two big white doors with thick golden hinges stand closed.
The guard behind me steps forward, knocking on it twice before giving me a look. One meant to caution me to behave.
I ignore him, tracing my eyes over the pattern on the door. It takes a minute before they swing open from the inside.
A grand throne room, one impressive in size and luxury, greets me. The guard with the scar moves behind me and givesme a hard shove, jolting me from my perusal. The room is so long and wide it could house half the Sidus townspeople alone.
Gold chandeliers glisten above us, their jeweled decorations twinkling in the light, sending shimmers across the room. I glance around the hall, the detail and work that must have gone into its extravagance, with lush red fur carpets, lavish crystal ornaments, and a white marble floor leading up to a raised throne area.
The long hall acts as a parade to showcase its beauty and riches. Though impressive in structure, no amount of splendor could conceal its true foulness.
I glance around, noticing no one fitting the description of the Breaker is present, which is a small mercy.
Hushed whispers have seeped into the Sidus town about a special guard who enjoys inflicting pain and torture on those deemed traitors or disloyal, with a twisted ability that enables him to cause pain without touch. I only hope I can avoid him as long as possible.
Though I know he will seek me out soon; of that I am confident.
A few guards are stationed around the room, keeping watch. The only threat seems to be me, however, based on their harsh glares all directed toward me.
The rest of the competitors arrive, all Caligo, both men and women. They are dressed well, with luxurious coats and boots and look to have had the fortune of a good night’s rest.
A few curious glances are aimed my way, but I ignore them to focus on the real threat that has just arrived.
Lieutenant Amaro strolls into the room with a smug expression on his face. He takes a seat beside a tall, lithe man with long black hair. The man welcomes the lieutenant before stepping up to the center of the throne area and calling for attention.
“My fellow comrades, this year’s competition slightly differs from the rest. This year, the royals have requested that it take place in the palace. As I am sure you will all agree, it is a privilege to be here.”
Murmurs of agreement sound out around me, with each competitor wearing a proud smile as if honored to be here. I hold in my scoff, desperately wanting to roll my eyes at their ignorance.
The lithe man nods, a smile on his face as he continues. “The first competition will be held in three days’ time. This should give you enough time to sharpen those skills and train for the first trial, which will be hand-to-hand combat.” He glances around the room, eyeing each competitor.
