“Syneisforá, sharing the blessings from the Stone with another.”
It's been five days. He has been fighting for five days.
The King's birthday celebrations were still ongoing. Not that he actually cared about that. But still, he didn't earn a single response from him.
They've been moving his matches in the most bizarre way that he was sure he was going to get pulled off his floor in the middle of the night to fight whoever.
He even earned himself a title. 'The Ice Boy' He rolled his eyes when Beer mentioned his new arena nickname that he overheard from the Ringers.
"How original," he grumbled.
"Mine is 'Bad Bear'. They mistook my name." he said. Jodeus snorted at that.
Beer was the only one he liked in this place. And his brother, Bard, who had told him where the Treatment Room was on his first day, was a bit distant but still quite soft. Apparently, they had broken into someone else's house to steal and ended up killing the owner. Got caught and now they have to get over a hundred pardons. Which would take years.
Jodeus would rather distance himself from them because of that but they were the only ones who were willing to converse with him, rather than punch him in the face. They seemed rather nice, anyway.
The champion which he had beaten had been sending him glares but ultimately did nothing, much to his delight. Jodeus would send him the occasional eye roll every time he'd 'accidentally' bump Jodeus into a wall as the Ringer Guard watched over them.
The more wins he had, the better food he got. And better armor. Apparently, he was the only one who got massive amounts of fans who'd send him letters and other stuff that he'd never find out because the Ringers tend to take it for themselves. He once got himself a love letter, which he had thrown away in some corner.
Every single night he'd flopped down to his floor with a wince. Hoping to get an Imperial Pardon after the match. To his surprise, the King had always been present, but every time he'd win there was no indication that he was even paying attention to him.
And there was another person beside him that Jodeus rarely paid attention to, but he had always felt a sharp look digging at his back and he reckoned he knew who it was from. He was always there for some reason.
Five days, with approximately more than three matches each. He had only lost twice. Which was when he fought the brothers. And yet there was still no sign of freedom.
He hasn't done anything wrong after all so why should he wait for years like the others? To add to his worry, Mera hasn't sent any letter at all about Brytos's well-being.
'What if something terrible has happened?'
He sliced his opponent's leg and used the hilt of the saber to knock him out.
'What if I can't see him anymore?'
He raised his saber as the crowd gave him roaring applause. Not bothering to look at the King on his way back.
…
King Malue hummed as he picked a powdered pastry from the container. He licked his hands clean before getting another. "I reckon he wants a pardon. What is he in for again?"
"Theft and smuggling." reminded Commander Ektes.
"Ah, well. We'll see. Are you up to take in new students under your wing?"
"Depends."
King Malue then turned to look down at the ongoing fight. "When is his next scheduled match?"
"I can put him first tomorrow, your majesty." said the Ringer with a strained smile.
"Good."
…
Jodeus pulled on his armor, which was made of silver. His shield was beaten to a pulp as it was used by someone else. If he had sliced the armor off the champion before, then he imagined this would rip if he pulled on it. But gladly, that didn't seem to be the case. Unfortunately, it was loose on him.
The wall in front of him crumbled. And he walked out in the open.
The sky had a golden hue, something he had never seen before in his life. He looked at it with awe before turning his attention to the audience. Maybe it was his imagination but there seemed to be more people this time around. The crowd cheered and booed at him, so he waved his hands at them with an awkward smile.
They seemed eager with anticipation, looking everywhere just like Jodeus himself. But his opponent didn't seem to be anywhere at all. He kept looking around the ring, expecting someone to come forward as they always did for the past few days, but there was no one.
Through observing the entire area for the first time, he noticed the subtle changes in the Prison Ring. It looked a lot more impressive than it did yesterday.
The torches beside the columns had a cheerful yellow fullness. And as he looked closer, he noticed that it wasn't just fire, but some sort of crystal tied around a wooden torch handle. He stopped when the crowd cheered once more.
There it was. The crumbling of the wall.
To his confusion, it wasn't from the sealed cage in the middle. It was straight across him, underneath the highest column.
He looked familiar but before he could recall, the horn sounded signifying the start of the match.
From afar, this person looked a lot different from all the other inmates, there was an air of silent danger and toughness around him. The sand beneath him swirled with the wind as if it were encircling him for protection. Then before Jodeus could even blink, he vanished.
He felt a significant deal of agony when he collided with the ground, crashing a few feet away from where he was. The crowd cheered at this.
He had difficulty standing back up since his side was pounding and he was still dazed. This would undoubtedly bruise severely.
Then he raised his head.
The man stood at seven feet, dressed in a long dark fur robe, the same material as the king's robes, that covered what seemed to be golden tattoos that were almost visible on his collar. His eyes were golden and razor-sharp, looking as though they could physically cut someone. Moreover, he had the whitest hair Jodeus had ever seen, despite not looking any older than Brytos.
Before he could take another swing, Jodeus blocked the oncoming kick.
"Better." he heard him say.
But his shield had bent inwardly from the impact and it took all of his strength to free his arm from it. He grasped around for his dagger on his waist but there was nothing but air.
'Where?!'
"Ice," he heard from a distance and saw his opponent observing his dagger but didn't touch it. "Cursed," he whispered.
"GIVE THAT BACK!"
Jodeus charged at him, conjuring up a spear of ice that was ultimately crushed against this man's feet. The sand around seemed stronger and thicker but he was too focused on his target to have noticed.
He conjured up another blade and swung it as hard as he could, he gritted his teeth as the man dodged every single swing. Jodeus received a punch and the crowd hollered.
He couldn't see anything else now except for his opponent. They seemed to be surrounded by a cyclone of sand. This change caught him off guard, the man ducked and kicked Jodeus by the ankle, forcing him out of balance and crashing back to the ground.
'That's right.' This man was always seated beside the King but he had never really paid attention to him. 'But what the hell was he doing down here?'
The man straddled on top of him, clutching his neck but Jodeus didn't feel the grip at all, something else was grasping him. "Weak. But promising."
"GET OFF ME!" Jodeus tried to wiggle out but it was like something was pulling him toward the ground.
"The Imperial Pardon will not be given to you. But you will be free after this." the man explained, his golden pupils boring into his azure ones. Jodeus stopped short at that.
'What does he—'
"The King has granted you freedom," he explained further. "In exchange for service."
"Service?"
'I'd be free for real?'
"Further orders will be relayed to you. Leave this city and you will be hunted down. That's all."
The man then stood and turned his back. Jodeus lay there, confused. The sand around them calmed down and dispersed back on the ground of the arena, revealing the audience once more. They cheered as they saw them both, with Jodeus on the ground, one can only assume. He grabbed his dagger and wiped the sand off the blade and knees as he stood.
"One more thing." he heard the man say.
Then he blacked out.
…
Jodeus smiled as the large gates were raised. The gatekeeper snarled at him but he didn't care. He had a black eye but he was free at last. He had said his goodbye to Beer and Bard, promising to send them word and news, they seemed happy for him.
He stepped out and made his way to the bustling city.
…
"DEATH CLINIC"
He snorted at the dark sign before entering, immediately noticing that the place had an odd smell when he stepped in. A familiar one, a welcoming one.
It reminded him of when The Alumnus was still teaching him the basics of being a healer. He had covered his nose but gradually got used to it as time passed by. Now all he could was reminisce about the memory.
"Umm — Madame Mera?" he called out, quite unsure of what to call her. The coffee pot was running and the lights were on (convenient little things, Jodeus thought).
There weren't any other patients there so he was currently alone in the room. He rang the bell at the table and sat at one of the lined-up chairs, waiting for someone to come up. He was sure that he was in the right clinic. If the name was any indication of who owned it.
There was a lot of shuffling at the back and finally, Mera emerged from the doorway, her robes lazily clinging to her. Swaying as she leaned against the frame. She squinted at Jodeus as if she couldn't see him clearly.
He stood up but felt hesitant to approach her. "G-Goodmorning…" he croaked out.
"Is it?" she slurred out.
"A bad one then?" he asked, smiling awkwardly.
"I mean, is it morning already?" she fumbled through her pockets, looking for a watch but there was nothing.
"Yes," he went up to her to help straighten up as she almost fell. "Yes, it is."
She pushed him out of the way and pulled a rope that made the 'CLOSED' sign light up in red. She faced Jodeus, still squinting before letting out a huff.
"So you got free."
He nodded and followed her through the doorway as she stumbled on her foot. She cursed and reached out for the walls for support. The Sun seemed to bother her so she closed the window, and dimmed the lights, leaving them in a dimly lit waiting room.
Jodeus raised a brow, having no idea what she was up to. He coughed. "Miss Mera...Is Brytos okay?"
"HA! Call me Death, that's my name around here and if he was then Alis wouldn't have sent both of you to me," she exclaimed as she made her way to the coffee pot and poured herself a hot drink.
She seemed different from who she was back in the prison. A lot more tired and drunk, her bushy hair even worse than it was. She put her mug down before stumbling past Jodeus who was thinking about how he could possibly approach her.
"I just meant that it's been five days and—"
"Shut up and come with me, Son."
Jodeus followed her upstairs, thinking she'd be showing him to Brytos, however, he was led to an empty room in the attic, it was recently cleaned but it lacked a sense of ownership. He looked at her,
"This where you'll be staying for the time being"
"I hate noises so stay quiet. You'll be working for me as I work on your boyfriend. I trust you know how to deal with patients?"
Jodeus stood on his height and nodded. Of course, he did, 'I was the top student of The Alumnus.'
"Go to town and get yourself some decent clothes. My wallet is in the drawer, downstairs. "
"Can I please see Brytos?" he asked.
She glared at him. "Go to town." and then left the room.
Jodeus frowned and sat down on the creaky bed, placing his dagger down on the gray sheets. Why couldn't she show him Brytos?
'Maybe something did happen.' He shook his head.
"He's fine. He's fine."
The attic chamber was humble; one window, a table and chair, and a lifeless mattress. Nevertheless, he was glad that he didn't have to sleep on the floor anymore.
'This room is enough, I can make do with this.' He told himself. He should be used to a small room and non-silky sheets by now seeing as he slept months at sea, on the sand, and the pavement.
'But still, it is quite small.'
He went downstairs but Mera—er—Death was nowhere to be seen, he sighed and pulled the drawer to see the wallet. He took it and left the clinic.
…
Busy. Everyone was busy.
Lots of people out and about, with lots of music and dances. There were glowing papers in different colors on the air and on the ground from people playing these things called 'Poppers'. The people were dressed most bizarrely as well, one had a hat about his size, and the other was covered in hot pink fur robes.
One week of celebration of the King's birthday and everyone was treating it like it was some sort of festival. Not that he minded, there were loads of food he wanted to try and loads of places that he wanted to check out, but what he needed were clothes. Maybe he'd buy the cheapest one he could find and get himself something to eat.
"Excuse me—" he pushes through the bustling crowd. "Sorry— Moving Through—"
"It's the Ice Boy!" someone had pointed out and there were loads of eyes on him now.
Before he knew what was happening. He was surrounded by people, asking him questions and signatures. He smiled politely as they pushed against him. "Please. I need to be somewhere— Clothes — I need clothes — sorry, I won't sign your breasts— I really need to go."
"Come drink with us, man!" he yelped as he was being dragged away by the collar.
"Wait!"
Then he was put under a robe as he was dragged away. There were loads of bodies as the person who was dragging him, pushed through the crowd. Until finally they were in an open space. Jodeus frees himself from the man's grip and gets out of the robe.
"Learn to respect people's spaces!" he yelled.
"Sorry. Had to get you out of there."
Jodeus stopped and looked at the man under the hooded robes.
'Why?'
"I see your black eye hasn't healed."
It was his last opponent back at the Prison Ring, the man beside the king. It hasn't even been a day since he got out of prison, are they going to take him away for service this early on?
He rolled his eyes at him and looked around, there were in front of a clothes shop. Convenient!
"It was your fault. You didn't have to knock me out. Now move, I need clothes." he grumbled.
The Sixth Commander moved out of the way and followed Jodeus into the shop. "Bathhouse. The King will meet you there, Seven at night" he said calmly.
Jodeus looked up at him before facing the rack of clothes, not looking at anything in particular. "I see. Then I will go," he said.
He approached the woman at the desk and asked if he could have a suit made and when he could possibly get it. The woman snorted at him and pointed at the rack of clothes.
"XS - S - M - L - XL - XXL" he glanced at the letters of the racks and wondered what the hell they could possibly mean.
"First time here?" asked the Sixth Commander. "These are mass-made clothes. Affordable. If you want a suit made for you, then go to the upper town. Although, I doubt you have any money."
He blushed red and opened his wallet. There were a few bronze and silver coins and what seemed to be leaves. He counted them and looked at the prices on the racks. He looked back at the Commander, who was staring at him with a raised brow.
"Well if you know your way around, then…how do I buy clothes?"
…
Jodeus should've been accustomed to extravagant things by now, but the Uvite bathhouse was unique and certainly not anywhere he had been before.
The steam covered most of the walls, which were mountain rocks textured into gravel bricks. The beams were dark oak logs supporting the emerald-colored roof tiles that glowed to give light to the building. Its marble floors were reserved for private rooms, and he had gone the extra mile to pay for them.
By "private rooms," they mean you still get to share, but it's cleaner and nicer to be in. It was big enough for more than fifty people to bathe in it. In contrast to the bustling outdoors, the entire ambiance of this place was more pleasant. He rested his head against the oak logs at the rim of the large tub, his mind drifting off into nothingness, letting the hot springs do their work.
With the tedious waiting for Brytos's recovery he had taken an apprentice position under Meradeath, a name he decided on.
"Enjoying yourself?" said a familiar rough voice.
He slightly parted his eyes and hummed with a smile. He peeked it open to actually look. King Malue and his men had arrived, as naked as the day they were born.
Jodeus tried to stand, but his body had already surrendered to the bliss, so it wouldn't let him.
"Heard you started working as an apprentice at one of the old hag's places. Is that true?"
Jodeus nodded, instinctively hiding half his face below the water. He'd imagined that the Uvite ruler would have his own bathhouse and would prefer to bathe alone, but no. And he just had to take his favorite soldiers with him.
The other men placed themselves in the other tubs as Malue circled around him, making him nervous.
"A warrior and a healer, and with three blessings," he said, with no particular thought. Malue told him to relax and submerged himself in the same tub as him.
He groaned in contentment. "Ah, that's the stuff,"
"So, Jodeus, care to tell me how you ended up here?"
Jodeus hid half of his face in the water, his cheeks red, before discreetly eyeing the leg without the usual metal attachments it had.
"Never seen a severed leg before?" he asked with an amused smile, unbothered.
"I have... but not that serious."
"Serious? This? HA! I've seen a man with half of his face cut off," he leaned in, his voice much rasper than it was before, then quietly laughed in a reminiscent way. "He managed to laugh it off and said he'd be fine."
He leaned his head back and rested it on the log, staring at the ceiling with widened eyes, as if he were seeing someone who wasn't supposed to be there. But no one was.
Then the men's laughter seemed to be no longer there, disappearing as the pleasant ambiance of the room decayed. Jodeus pressed his back against the tub, his expression morphing into a distressed one as the silence around the room ensued.
"Later on…on the battlefield," his voice getting quiet by the moment. "I was on the ground accepting my oncoming death, feeling the burn of what was left of my leg."
Jodeus felt his throat dry as the King clenched his fist closed, the veins popping.
"And as the Carnelian army tore through our frontlines, the idiot stood there... shielding me." The final phrase was mumbled, and he appeared to be somewhere else. Somewhere far. 'Somewhere dreadful.'
He stopped, breathing heavily.
And Jodeus didn't dare respond.
Then the stillness of his thoughts gradually disappeared. The splashing of water, the laughter, and the incoherent conversations emerged in the background. Jodeus breathed out the air he didn't notice he was holding in as the Malue relaxed his shoulders.
"With the Tanzanites being cut off from the rest of the world, I'm sure you're full of curiosity," he said, back to his usual self.
Jodeus nodded, relaxing.
"Is every Tanzanite as strong as you are?" he asked.
Jodeus smiled at that. "I wouldn't call myself strong,"
He'd seen what real strength was, and he knew that it was one of the things he lacked. But he continued with a smile as he remembered the program his parents had put him in.
The young and bright volunteers, like Natiya, were pleasant company. Although they were enrolled at the same time, they were far more skillful, being the child of one of the knights. They helped him when he couldn't get things right or when it was too difficult for him to handle.
"We do have an academy dedicated to training young volunteers, but most of them do just end up continuing their parents' work or paving their own way in life once they're done with their service," he said.
He talked and talked, about his experiences and mostly about how nice the towns were. Malue nodded along, taking mental notes of every word that came out of Jodeus's mouth, and nonchalantly hummed, feigning to look disinterested but not so much that he'd stop talking.
"My parents owned a garden, growing rare flowers from all over the kingdom and often hosted parties for the public, and I brought back some back to Bry—"
He froze.
He remembered when he had stolen a bouquet from the gardens, then escaped the party with it to impress Brytos in the early years of when they had met. Then he burned them, not exactly knowing the purpose. And they fought after that, but Brytos came to him haggardly and placed flowers that he had found in the forest.
"Bry? Who is that?"
Jodeus shook his head. "Nothing. The ceremonies were huge and just beautiful! Each flower was gifted along with the medals for the graduating class in the academy."
"Really? And how many usually stay in the army after they've graduated?"
This whole conversation felt so casual that he felt it was fine to answer but inwardly stopped himself, remembering when he was thrown in prison to fight till death, not so long ago. They're warriors; they won't take you lightly. He noticed the bathhouse in a different mood once more, although slight. Pretending that he didn't notice anything, he threaded lightly.
"We do need the knights to help the townsfolk with giving out food and clothes, especially to assist the sick in the hospital. It's all just volunteer work. Of course, they could come and go as they please."
"Really? You've said such nice things about your home, so why are you here?"
'Because it's my turn to lend a hand to my loved ones.'
"I guess you could say I wanted to see the world. Spent months at sea, and finally found the nearest land." It was true. And it was not the first time he's been under such pressure of questioning, he is a prince after all.
"And where are you headed next?" he asked, looking up at the ceiling.
"I don't know. Wherever fate brings me, I guess."
He laughed at that, the sound echoing throughout the room. "Fate, huh?..."
Then he looked at Jodeus and raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you haven't been anywhere else than here."
"That's right,"
He pointed at his chest. "Why do you have Azurite scripting?"
He placed his hand on the tattoo, suddenly remembering its existence. "This?.. I don't know exactly, but my mother gave this to me,"
"Interesting, that's why you have ice blessings," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"You don't know? It's called Syneisforá, sharing the blessings from the Stone with another. You being a Tanzanite mixed with another power means your mother was blessed by a different Stone, probably from the Azurite Stone. But from that tattoo, it seems to be scripted as a curse."
"An Azurite? She never told me anything. And my mother cursed me!?"
"That's only the general term. With Syneisforá, you can do whatever you want with your magic before sharing it. I'm not exactly sure what that specific scripting stands for, but that's for you to find out."
…
"You're late."
"Sorry. I didn't notice the time…"
"Well go to sleep, we still have work tomorrow."
"How is he?"
"I said sleep." Then she slammed the cellar door closed.
He frowned before finally making his way upstairs to his chamber in the attic. He was unable to sleep that night, though, thinking about Brytos and the Carnelians. Pondering as to what sorts of monsters they were for Brytos to run away and only be targeted for escaping their cruelty.
When he had fought his own father, he saw the pain in his eyes and it made his heart clench.
They didn't want to hurt each other. Nerune could've beaten him in one swift, but didn't. Could've imprisoned him in water, but didn't. He had every opportunity to stop him, but he didn't.
He took a shaky breath before forcing his eyes closed...
'I'll come back and beg for his forgiveness, then I'll officially introduce Brytos.' He pulled his blanket up to his face and drifted off to sleep.
…
King Malue sat across the table from the commanders, his expression as hard as stone.
He had gathered them tonight to hear their opinions on the matter. He had ordered his Sixth Commander to test the 'Ice Boy' a few days ago, and what he had reported back to him was promising. Despite being a fighter, there seemed to be a lack of certain outside experiences in this boy's life from what he had gathered from the bathhouse himself.
"I need to know your thoughts on the Ektes' report and my interrogation. The youngster is hiding something, but I sensed no ill intent, and neither did my men."
"He may seem innocent now, but there's no doubt it's a facade to let our guards down!" the Fourth commander said.
"Execute him, my liege, while we still have the chance!"
There was a round of murmurs of agreement, with only a few who shook their heads. They haven't seen the Tanzanite boy in action, but from what they heard it was obvious that he was by no means a beginner in combat.
Although, he was a little slow with his blessings (as if he had only recently acquired them). And him being a pardoned criminal didn't sit well with most of the people in the room.
The Sixth commander stood. "Proper training and discipline, he'll prove to be a good asset on our side," he remarked, earning several nods.
The Fourth Commander scoffed. "Well, aren't you talking a lot today?" There was a round of laughter but he didn't change his expression.
"You can't base loyalty on strength alone. He could be a spy, and with someone like that in our ranks, all of our strategies will prove useless," the Fourth commander retorted, with half of the room siding with him.
With a firm stance and an unyielding voice, the Sixth commander declared, "If the liege thinks him trustworthy, then so do I. He doesn't have to join one of our forces, he could be a messenger. Form an alliance with the Tanzanites and we'll own the seas; a perfect weapon against fire."
More murmurs of agreement were heard than before. Each commander is now thinking of their own strategies.
The countries are separated by water. It would be a massive advantage to have the Tanzanites on their side. But the Fourth commander still refused. He stood at his full height, facing down the Sixth.
"If you have forgotten your history lesson, the Tanzanites aren't interested in fighting; they'd sooner hide than confront their enemies. They're volunteers who give out flowers for Stone's sake. "
"They don't necessarily have to fight; they just have to defend our lines and provide necessities for our men," he said before facing Malue.
"Please my liege, imagine the number of lives we would be saving. The only reason our mountains are holding up is because of the disappearance of the Phoenix. We don't know when he'll be joining the frontlines again."
At the mere mention of the Phoenix, everyone in the room began shouting. Their individual remarks had become a disorganized and incoherent mess, and no one outside the table of commanders could determine who was in agreement and who wasn't.
Behind Malue, the Uvite Stone sparked excitedly at the ruckus. Everyone recalled the war five years ago. They had lost so many lives even when they had the high ground.
"We lost more men than we should've because you were an incompetent bastard! If you hadn't retreated, then the Phoenix wouldn't have gotten through our defense lines!"
"It was suicide to march my soldiers towards something they could not handle. It was a tactical retreat, and if you had a piece of common sense in you, then maybe most of your men wouldn't have turned into ashes."
"We went there to fight, not to run away."
"We went there to win, and if we don't have a chance of winning, then the best thing to do is to retreat."
The commanders continued their bickering,
"ENOUGH!"
The whole room died down in an instant. King Malue sighed, 'worst birthday ever'.
He cleared his throat. "We won that battle, if only by a margin and we lost good-abled men in the process, but we won. Those who are still alive and able to fight for us today should be grateful." he stood.
"The youngest son had usurped the Carnelian throne. We don't know how he'll move or if he'll make a move at all. Commander Six," he called.
"Yes, my liege."
"Bring the Tanzanite Ice Boy to our side and train him. Have someone else train the enlisters. Kill him if you believe him to be an enemy."
Commander Ektes nodded.
"Meeting adjourned."
The commanders all stood and waited for their king to leave the room before making their way out as well. There were a lot of dirty looks thrown at each other and murmurs of suspicion. Commander Ektes ignored them all and headed out.