Reaper blood

Kyrexiel removed the dagger, not at once because it was stuck but he got it out by almost ripping out part of the skull. 'Fuck! Might as well go all out!

Kyrexiel bent and slowly cut off the head from the neck. It was a dirty, tedious work that included a lot of grey blood and him using his legs to break the neck bone.

Everywhere was silent now and the only sound was the squelching of the body. He raised the bloody thing for the whole to see. Do they want blood? They should have as much as they want. "Once, this was how Rashakas killed their enemies! They raised their beheaded heads as respect and," he dropped the head with a wet thud and then he stepped on it. "Or disrespect to an unworthy enemy!"

Kyrexiel didn't know if that was what Rashakas in the past did but it seems like something they should do. And if they don't before, then maybe they should now.

The crowds were frozen, and he thought maybe he had overdone it but then he raised his right hand, still holding the dagger and their cries shook the underground room.

They shouted and screamed, forgetting briefly that they bet against this fragile Rashaka. It shook Kyrexiel's bones as they shouted 'Reaper blood! 'Reaper blood! Reaper blood!

Kyrexiel raised his dagger even higher and the roar increased until Orso came down from his place. It was the first time Kyrexiel had seen him standing and the man was enormous. Like a grizzly bear on two legs.

He had put a jacket robe around himself, partially covering the bear-like hide that covered his torso. He was smiling, even his eyes showed a hint of it. He strolled to the middle of the platform and bent down to sniff the body.

Everywhere was silent again as they tried to know what Orso would do. Even Kyrexiel was holding his dagger tighter, not like it'd do much should Orso decide to kill him.

Then he stood and raised his hand for silence as if he wasn't already receiving it. "He's dead!" He boomed and the crowd started again, shouting and screaming.

Orso turned to Kyrexiel and said in a low voice. "See what I told you? They like a good show and you gave it to them. I don't know if you are good at that kind of thing."

'Oh shit' Kyrexiel thought. Already regretting his actions. Being 'good at something' means you'll only get more of that 'thing' as work. That's the punishment for being good at anything.

Orso seems to be reading his mind. "You are too good for the Scuridae. Fortunately, I see your worth. I'll make a good fighter out of you, Reaper blood."

'Should I attack him? Maybe my speed will catch him off guard?' Kyrexiel stopped himself. His speed would be nothing and if he should behave rashly then he'll find himself as nothing more than a smear on the ground.

Elyrixa pushed her way out of the crowd. Her hair was standing on her head and her eyes were glowing, the aura that surrounded her made the crowd shy away from her.

As she continued, five of her people, including Urlk, joined her and together they faced Orso. Elyrixa smiled through tight lips. "I'm glad you finally turned the table for yourself, Orso. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, can I have him back now?"

Orso looked genuinely surprised, and Kyrexiel did as well. Because why was Elyrixa so serious about taking him back? It's not as if he was ever joining Orso. He narrowed his eyes. 'Something suspicious is going on'

"You are not worth the drama he brought me, Elyrixa. If he didn't die before tomorrow then his fame as Reaper blood will only just continue," He didn't have to turn before his clan flanked him. "You don't seem to have much use for him."

Elyrixa's eyes turned blunt. "That's for me to decide."

Then they started to stare each other down, their auras swelled, mixing with bloodlust that got the crowd into shouting again. Weapons slowly appeared in the of their clan members as they waited for their leader to call the fight.

'Oh shit' Kyrexiel thought. 'I need the Scuridae clan to get into the castle and investigate Elder Cormac. I can't let them get into trouble here. I have to do something!'

Kyrexiel stepped between them suddenly. He didn't know what he was going to do but he intended to do something. The two eyes of the clan leaders rested on him and it came with an invisible weight of hostility.

"Orso, I thank you for giving me the limelight," he licked his lips as he looked into his dark eyes. "But I have...something going on with the Scuridae. I can't fight for you."

His heart was beating fast as he waited and it seemed the whole room was waiting as well. Out of everything he expected to happen it certainly wasn't the laughter.

Orso opened his mouth and started laughing, a bark of laughter that was torn out of him by surprise. And instead of putting the room at ease it only tightened the tension. "You can't fight for me." He repeated as if it was strange to his ears.

Kyrexiel felt unease on his spine. It only made it worse when he saw that the crowd was leaving, hurrying away pace. 'They must have seen this before. Kyrexiel thought. 'Not good at all! Why did I have to end up between the two clans?!

The rest of Elyrixa's clan had joined her and more joined the Ometra too.

Eyes from both sides burned into him as Kyrexiel straightened. And turned to Orso. "Yes," he made his voice as wooden as he could. "I can't fight for you."

Orso stopped laughing, smiling even. He took just two steps forward and he was standing beside Kyrexiel. "A slave doesn't have the choice to refuse."

Then the hand came out of nowhere and filled Kyrexiel's vision, too fast to even think of reacting. Pain flared from his head and he saw darkness.