People sure enjoy watching others in agony. Who would've thought that I, who solely depended on my brother, became a gladiator of all things?
Prax tears his armor off, leaving a loose-fitting dusty shirt with padded trousers, and drops himself onto a bench nearby.
"Hey, Daydreamer. You seemed pretty lax out there for someone fighting a match," remarked Captain Gulliver, the leader of the Greedenty militia, who examines every match of Prax's in hopes of recruiting him. Although the captain, his youthful and tall but slender stature made him seem an apprentice.
"Why the fuck are you here? No one invites you, yet you always end up at every match," Prax scoffed, turning away from the captain to the other gladiators taking off their armor.
Haa… Captain Gulli sure loves details. Seems there was an obvious difference in my behavior when I was in the white world. But how the hell did he get into the locker rooms?
"That's not how you should treat your guests, Praxy-boy. You should be thanking me above all things for coming to spectate. And for saving you back then from that hellish rampage of soldiers…"
Prax thought back to when his village on the outskirts of the city of Lavishia was destroyed many years ago when he was a child. The soldiers of Greedenty (a neighboring city that was known for constantly rivaling the city of Lavishia for their wealth) had set the crops and houses ablaze by command of Captain Gulliver, causing all of the families alive to flee…
"There's a fire! Run! Get out of your houses and RUN!" People yelled and screamed as Prax and his family ran through the lit village, making their way to the center of the city where wealth and abundance were palpable. Every house in the village was illuminated with fire and many of them already perishing on the ground.
Prax, being only ten years old, had trouble keeping up with his family and fell far behind the others. Suddenly, rubble from a nearby house pinned Prax down, making him face-plant into the dirt road. He screamed for his brother as his family's backs became smaller and smaller, but only his brother heard and turned to look back. It took only a glance to see that his brother wasn't going to help him. Prax froze and went silent as his brother's emotionless eyes stared at him. Lying vulnerably on the ground, Prax fought to hold back his tears as his brother continued ahead with the others.
Huh? What is going on? Why won't you come to help me? Hey! I need you to help me! Where are you going?
is what he wanted to say but he couldn't even breathe at that moment.
Suddenly a rush of emotions came over him and Prax regained his voice. He cried out for help as the village people slowly became specks of dust before disappearing into the smoke that clouded his vision.
Where had everyone gone? There has to at least be someone else left behind, too! I can't be the only one!
Distant footsteps silenced Prax to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Once he realized they were real, he cried out to get the attention of the army of footsteps, soon realizing he shouldn't have.
"Well, what do we have here? Seems you've been left behind, right, little one?" the tall man towered over him as he raised Prax's head with the end of his staff.
After finally realizing that they were Greedenty soldiers from their seaweed-colored coats and muskets strung behind their backs, Prax jerked his head away and scoffed.
"I wasn't left behind! They just…" Prax couldn't answer. He didn't want to believe that he had just been abandoned, so he let his eyes wander elsewhere.
The tall man smirked.
"I assume no one cared about you enough to keep you, but what do you know? We happen to need people like you."
Prax froze.
Why would they need me? Are they going to take me?
He looked up and stared into the man's darkened eyes that seemed to suck him in like a black hole.
"The outcasts, the betrayed, the abandoned are what we want," the tall man continued. "We need people who will do anything for what they want and have greed for what they don't have. We want the people who will build up anger for the sake of letting it out because they lack control over their emotions…the people who will make allies just to throw them away themselves because they hate being the one abandoned… the people who have gone through betrayal and need vengeance because they can't go on with their lives without them."
The tall man squatted down to look at Prax, who was still staring at the man with hostility.
"You seem to be one of them, knowing your family had just left you here."
"You don't know anything about me or my family! They'll come back to get me in no time!" Prax hissed while struggling to get himself free from under the rubble. He quickly gave up when he realized he wasn't moving.
"What do you know? You probably haven't lived a single day without food or clean water! All you Greedenty people are the same. You never do anything yourselves and just wait all day for others' downfall! All you will gain from this is the blood of your people if you're going against Lavishia!"
As soon as Prax finished talking, the tall man grabbed the hair on the back of Prax's head and pulled it back, causing Prax to grimace.
"You call this a declaration of war against Lavishia? Do you know how small this village is compared to the whole city? If you think that the higher-ups of this city will care about such a minuscule village, you're a fool!"
The man released Prax's hair and sighed, letting his head droop.
"Everything that I have done so far has had no effect, whatsoever, on the well-being of Lavishia itself. But that's good! And d'you know why? I plan to take over this city, bit by bit, so the higher-ups won't suspect a thing! Because all they care about is themselves. No matter the citizens' condition, as long as the capital is healthy, they won't take the proper steps to build a stronger defense against outside forces."
The tall man straightened his stance and took a deep breath, seeming to regret losing his energy over the "small" problem.
"So I don't think a minor boy like you will ever amount to much. And I'm sure everyone else will think the same."
Prax turned away and stared at the ground in disbelief. He knew that everything the man said about Lavishia wasn't false, yet he couldn't swallow the truth. Prax looked back and glared as the tall man tried to calm himself, but shortly yelled again.
"What? Why are you staring at me like that? Did you think your face was going to make me go away?"
"Burn in hell," Prax scoffed.
The tall man scowled and struck Prax's head, causing him to faint.
"Soldiers, take him!" Two soldiers came forward and removed the burnt rubble from Prax's legs. One soldier picked up Prax by the waist and threw him over his shoulder, then made his way back to the wagon.