Below Telmus was his pool of warm blood that he could feel slowly congealing around his feet. His body was broken and his bones were sticking out from his skin in a dozen places, but his majesty was unmistakable.
"Listen," he growled, a command, and silence fell across the Arena as the pervading psychic hum of so many Primordial minds clustered in one small space was shut off. The judges flinched as if a whip had swept across their necks.
Telmus turned around slowly, his gaze meeting each judge, and they could not turn away from him. A balance had been shifted, and the tides were going against the pull of gravity.
The King of Silence leaned against the pressure from Telmus's gaze, breaking his nature as he whispered in an airy voice like the last exhale of a dying man, "How?"
Telmus grinned; this was more towards his nature. Deliberately shifting his gaze away from this judge, he began to speak,
