Episode 6 (part 2) New Beginnings

The world is much brighter on the other end of the veil, but the cold feeling of an empty void still remains. I thought I left that feeling behind at the abyss. Even inside the great walls and among the peaks, the emptiness clings to everyone's souls. Everyone wears the expression of fresh trauma on their face. Being groped in the dark with pain and forced to exhort your mental and physical essence is absolutely not on the list of things you'd want to experience in life.

Zara stands tall, slender, and sleek in her dark blue, skin tight uniform. There are several others like her, commanders, gathering the attention of the new students that have passed the veil.

Zara: The veil has thinned out the bare minimum out of each of you. Now, we need to elevate the candidates with the maximum potential. You are reach ranked with a number on your badge based on how well you performed in the veil. There are currently one thousand eight hundred and forty four students. We only accept five hundred. An arena will open up in a few moments full of enchanted weapons, armor and also ghouls. Your goal is to be the last 500. We are watching you. Make the peaks proud.

What the devil is this game? I really hate how often the peaks are willing to throw human lives away. For what? I look around for Burb. He should be easy to spot, compared to all these phony students, he looks like a Greek god. I spot him chatting it up with Zara. His smile is contagious and a giggle escapes Zara's mouth as she puts a flirtatious hand on his shoulder. Wow. I guess I'll leave him to that.

I check my badge for what number I got. Uh oh. I got a two. That brings up several problems for me. Who is the one above me? How did they rank me this high? If everyone here is that weak, I am going to stick out like a sore thumb. Attention is bad. Very very bad. My markings are demons and I pose great threat beyond the inquisitors. If they find out my true identity and find out I killed four of their highest ranking soldiers as a child they would send fleets after me.

I give up on Burb and look for that number one guy. The minutes go by as I struggle to swim through the crowd of nervous teens. I git glances from people staring at my badge as I walk by but I keep scanning up high for the big guy. I trip and stub my toe on something incredibly hard. That sort of hurt. I look down and see a child with black hair and white tips. One eye lash is white, the other is black. His eyes are also mismatched with the opposing color.

Akira: Watch it bitch!

Titus: What did you call me little bro?

He floats up to my eye level and I can see the maturity in his eyes. This kid is my age or even older. Just short as fuck is all.

Akira: I said, look who's number one... bitch.

He taps his badge that sits on his collar. Something is definitely making this kid tweak because he thinks he can step up to me. I'm sure he's formidable but I barely tried and got a two. I could wipe my ass with this guy if I wanted to. Burb steps between us and breaks it apart.

Burberry: Now, now gentlemen! We have a match approaching us in minutes, you can have a go then. What do you say lads?

He winks at me. The short guy mutters and floats off.

Titus: Who is that brat anyway?

Burberry: He comes from a higher royal family than ours. They are known to be vessels of the elemental gods: fire, water, air and earth. It can be terrifying for even you to face. Normally gods don't do covenants with humans under the age of eighteen. It's the demons play to get children when they're young and naïve to accept their deals. Akira was said to be a vessel since birth. He is menacing in battle. Best to avoid.

Titus: Wait until the age of eighteen? So then most of the kids here aren't vessels?

He nods. I want to ask about the potential of Akira being a demon marked like us but a loud siren blares and the ground shakes beneath us. Everything around us just materializes into a beautiful architecture of an ancient roman structure. The colosseum. I hear roars all around us coming out of the gates that are currently closed. When it opens, all hell will break lose. We are the bait, this is a spectacle, but I am a warrior.

I search the panicked crowed for Akira's face. Burb catches my eye and shakes his head. I wink at him. His face goes paler than it already is. I'm sorry big man. I need to test myself against a royal monster like that bastard. It can't be too hard. Besides. This little game? I only need to make it into top 500. If it was necessary for me to be top 5, it would be just as easy.

Akira finds my glare and returns his own. Oh that's too enticing. We're like bulls, locked in, ready to tear each other apart. Nothing and no one will stand between us. The ghouls will be too busy feasting on the helpless, regular, non vessel humans that will desperately fight each other to grab an enchanted weapon. The sound of a gun shot in the air triggers the gates to open and the screams of ghouls and humans alike to fill up the air.

All the space around me is filled with the roar of scared and brave humans. I breath it in and zone in on the target. I use that frantic, dire energy around me as fuel. I make it tissue. I make it mass. I make it my drive. My own roar joins in as a collective harmony. Akira floats at frightening speeds at me. He is stiff. If I bring up my knee to counter I should be able to snap him like a board. 

His skull collides with the tip of my knee bone. I hear the snap before pain settles in. My knee cap is shattered, but so is his nose. No blood though. That's odd. We don't leave room to relish the pain and get back to the attempt of slaughtering each other. All the training we did at the mansion involved a weapon so my stance hand to hand is still rudimentary. 

Thankfully, even though this little man is a royal, he seemed inexperienced as well. Part of me thinks it is because he is flying but I'd also like to think that it is related to him having to face someone that won't crumble at a moments contact. We exchange a series of blows, neither of us trying to block each others attempts. Several shots to the head, slashes to the gut, bite marks at the jugular. 

Both of our souls are unwavering. Neither wants to quit. My flesh seems to be a bit more durable than his. His skin breaks apart in crumbs, mine bends and bruises. Every cut I leave doesn't produce blood, but dust continues to seep out of his wounds. We entangle in maddening fury and the arena pays the price of two great vessels battling in full force.