"I suppose it would be best to start with the more complex topic… my home. No… that's not quite right. Our home is ruled by a two-party system that keeps each side in check. We have our Saint, appointed by our God, and we have the council, made up of elders elected by devotion and merit. For the most part, it works well."
I shifted slightly to avoid a door as I followed her, my thoughts drifting as I tried to imagine this Saint figure. I had heard of them before… though only that they had died. That left me with questions about how this so-called government functioned now.
"With our current Saint gone, her spirit taken into the Great Flame, an acting figure has stepped in. But it isn't the same. As for something less complicated… our homeland itself is a blend of rolling mountains and wide plains, with direct access to the ocean. We've never had much trouble with neighboring countries… except for this cesspit. Overall, it's a prosperous place."
I looked at her, frowning.
"What's an ocean?"
The word was foreign to me. At my question, she stopped and gave me a strange look.
"Surely you jest? You don't know what the ocean is? … No, I suppose that makes sense, given what Thorne told me. Well, think of it as a much larger pond so vast and deep that you cannot hope to grasp its end."
I shrugged.
"That's neat, I suppose. Still, I fail to see why it matters in comparison."
"For now, I could give you many reasons why it is important. But if you choose to rejoin us after you accomplish your goal, then I will explain in greater detail the overwhelming strategic advantages of having access to the ocean."
I looked at the back of her head as she continued leading me.
"Fair enough. I can't make any promises about what we'll do, but I don't think we have any plans to remain in this land. A change of scenery would be nice."
I tilted my head, realizing this hall was unfamiliar. A faint rush of wind pressed down the corridor, and suddenly my stomach twisted and churned… just as it had when I first entered the arena. From the shadows of my mind, a voice whispered…. wouldn't it be better to stay here, in your own little world?
I slowed my pace as doubts mounted, moving forward only because of my need to see Heather again and the ever-present weight of not wanting to disappoint Kushim, even from the grave.
"Edric," she said softly, "I should let you know… while everyone from Emberland so far has treated you with nonchalance, that isn't the case for the regular soldiers or citizens. Don't mind the looks. They… they think of us as celebrities, or something like that. I only say this because I know it's not something you might be used to."
I let out a small scoff.
"It won't be a problem. I've developed a bit of a taste for attention as a pit fighter."
Soon, the glow of the city washed into the hall through the doorway ahead, countless torchlights bleeding through the stone frame. Each step felt heavy, my feet like lead, my mind thick as tar but still, I pressed forward.
At last, it was time. I passed beneath the great stone arch and out into the open. The night air touched my face, carrying with it the stillness of silence quieter than the grave. And there it was, a familiar weight… the feeling of being watched.
Instinct took over. My posture straightened, shoulders broad, head lifted high, my expression hardening into steel. I might have been beaten, I might have been broken but I would not look weak before a crowd. I could almost hear Kushim's voice mocking me if I faltered, and the thought made me chuckle under my breath.
Eyes followed us from every angle, every height. At first their gaze fell on Diane, but then it shifted to me. A low murmur rippled through the crowd, soon joined by a sharp clang of steel striking steel in a measured rhythm. One voice, one beat, then another… and then it spread, multiplying until the sound was deafening, swallowed by a wave of cheers.
This was nothing like the arena spectators. No, this was different. The tone in their voices carried something very unusual, something that unsettled me. For the first time in a long while, I felt a flicker of fear. I had never seen men and women act this way outside the blood-soaked sand. It was as if they had just survived the most desperate battle of their lives.
Yet when I looked closer, they weren't broken or bloodied only a handful bore scrapes or bandages. Their eyes told a different story. In those stares, I saw a fire reignite, a flame that had nearly died. Somehow, seeing Diane… and me… had brought it roaring back to life.
As I scanned the crowd, Diane stepped forward. The rows of people parted before her, and as she passed, they lowered themselves, prostrating in reverence. I followed behind. Their gazes lingered on me longer than on her, but in the end, they bowed the same way.
I felt… deeply uncomfortable. This was new… no, not new. I remembered the cultists, how they had bowed in a similar way when I first met Mark.
The rows grew thicker as we advanced, filling every space, slowing our pace. Their eyes weighed on me, and something inside me twitched like it wanted out, an instinct I had only felt after winning a battle. I stopped. Immediately, all eyes snapped to me even Diane paused, curious.
I spread my arms slightly, drew on every ounce of strength I had left, and unleashed a bellowing war cry. Every shard of frustration, every pang of anguish, every scar of rage poured into that sound, making it raw, visceral. This felt like the most cathartic roar I had ever let out, like I was finally announcing to the world that I was free.
When my voice finally broke off, silence consumed the night. The crowd froze, stunned. Even Diane. Even me. Heat flushed my skin, embarrassment prickled as I realized I didn't know why I had done it… well I knew the reason but still i didnt need to do that.
But then… the silence shifted. One by one, they dropped, thousands folding to their knees, hands forming signs of prayer.
They hadn't heard a man's roar. They had heard a divine call.
"Let's move, Edric," Diane beckoned softly. I swallowed hard, and followed.