As Ty pondered whether he could trust the old man, the ship suddenly jolted hard to the right, causing everyone inside the cages to crash against one another before being thrown back in the opposite direction. Once the turmoil ceased and the boat stabilized, Ty realized they were finally moving.
"I suppose we're on the move, huh?" Ty vocalized, trying to make sense of the chaos as the low hum of groans and discomfort filled the space around him.
"Seems like it," Gears replied, his tan tunic robes fluttering in the wind that swept through the area.
Ty, curious about their destination, asked, "How long do you think it'll take to get to the... third continent? That's where the first arena is taking place, right?"
Gears nodded, "Yeah, from what I understand. It's not too far. Probably about a four to five-hour boat ride, assuming no Pantsankes decide to show up."
Ty, unfamiliar with the term, questioned, "What's a Pantsankes?"
Surprised at Ty's ignorance, Gears explained, "How do you not know what a Pantsankes is? Anyway, it's essentially a furred serpent, very aggressive towards anyone entering its territory. It's hard to predict when you'll encounter one, but they usually make their presence known."
As the door opened again, four guards entered, carrying a large conveyer tray down the stairs. They slamd it onto the wooden deck with a heavy thud, rolling it to the front of the jail cell area. Unlocking it, they announced, "Everyone is ordered to eat. If you refuse, you'll be spending the entire trip cleaning the latrines."
Ty, intrigued by the procedure, comnted, "I wonder what they cooked up."
Gears, equally unsure, said, "Honestly, no idea. This is a new one for ."
The guards then slid the cart into the cell and removed its top, releasing a cloud of aromatic smoke that quickly filled the air beneath the deck. As the smoke dissipated, revealing the pre-plated als, Gears leaned in for a better look and began to explain to Ty what lay before them.
"Ah, this here's a bit of a delicacy on the seas. It's roasted kelp-wrapped sea bass, seasoned with a mix of ocean herbs and spices unique to the third continent. And here," he pointed to a side dish, "is a serving of pearl barley risotto, cooked in a rich seafood broth. They've even included a side of grilled sea greens, probably harvested from the coastal beds of the area.
Surprisingly opulent for a prisoner's al, wouldn't you say?"
Ty, impressed and sowhat surprised by the rich array of food described, couldn't help but agree. "Sounds like a feast fit for a noble.
Gears, still savoring the rich flavors of the al, paused to consider Ty's question. "Strange, indeed. But honestly, this level of cuisine? I'm not about to question it too much," he replied, managing a bite despite the shackles.
His voice dropped a bit as he leaned closer to Ty, "You know, I've actually been thinking about trying to escape if the opportunity presents itself. There are old tales of folks who've managed it, slipping away amidst the chaos."
Ty, intrigued, took another careful bite of his al. "Really? That does sound like a risky plan."
Gears nodded, "Yeah, it's definitely a long shot. My ability might give an edge, but it's all about timing. The arena's massive scale and the mix of powers at play do make it seem like anything's possible. My plan? Stay out of the spotlight, avoid drawing attention. If I can do that, maybe I can slip through the cracks while everyone's focused on taking down their opponents.
Making it to the second round without drawing a fight would be the ideal scenario."
Ty couldn't help but admire Gears' hopeful strategy, albeit fraught with danger and uncertainty. "Laying low might just be the smartest move. With so much at stake and so many looking to make a na for themselves, the shadows might just be the safest place."
Ty, fighting against the drowsiness that seed to envelop him after finishing his al, shared a thoughtful remark with Gears, "No matter what you've lost, you still have the mories of them and what they dread of to carry on. So don't let it go to waste."
Gears, echoing Ty's yawn, took a mont to sit back and reflect. "I guess you're right. I ought to at least give it a shot. And hey, if things don't turn out well for , maybe I'll share their stories with you. You can keep their mories alive," he said, half-jokingly.
As both n settled down, Ty couldn't help but wonder aloud, his voice heavy with fatigue, "Did they put sleep pills in the food or sothing?"
Gears chuckled lightly at the thought. "What's a sleep pill? But yeah, I'm feeling pretty tired myself," he admitted before drifting off to sleep.
In the quiet that followed, Ty's consciousness slipped into a different realm of awareness. He found himself sitting on an empty, ethereal floor within the confines of his own mind. Before him, an image that mirrored his own form appeared, but with one stark difference—the eyes glead a deep, vibrant red instead of Ty's calm blue.
The entity's declaration was a chilling ultimatum, its voice resonating with a sense of entitlent and a hint of desperation. "I want your body. I'm almost done repairing the damage Erebos inflicted, and then, I expect you to cede control of this body to . The powers you wield are of my granting. It's only fitting that I reclaim the vessel that houses them."
Ty's response was a mix of defiance and incredulity. "And why would I ever agree to that? Because I allowed you a montary control? No, that's not going to happen—not now, not ever. Maybe once I figure out the transition from those bones to this body, I'll understand better. But I highly doubt you're interested in any sort of alliance here."
The red-eyed reflection's tone sharpened, "I don't seek to ally with you. But understand this: without my intervention, you'll perish. Once I've fully recuperated from the havoc Erebos wrought, I can easily assu control over this 'dead' body, detaching my essence from your soul to end my own suffering."
User Comments
0 comments from readers