Shadow Slave

After a while, shrouded in darkness, Elyas suddenly spoke, addressing Sunny in his usual one-sided manner.

In the past weeks, the young Awakened had developed a habit of sometimes speaking to his demonic partner, even though the frightening creature could not respond with anything more than an occasional nod, a shake of the head, or an indifferent shrug. Talking to Shadow was not much of a conversation, but...

Perhaps this was one of the few things that were keeping him sane.

…Sunny could understand why the youth had to do that, since his own inability to talk was one of the things that were driving him mad, that was robbing him of even more of his humanity.

"Hey, demon. Do you… do you think it's true? About the wooden sword…"

Sunny stared at the young man, then shrugged. He had no opinion on that topic, since he didn't know what the wooden sword was.

Elyas sighed.

"Before the Warmongers captured us, I had heard of their cruel Trials. Everyone back home has, really. The horrors of the Red Colosseum is something every parent tells their children, to make them behave."

He grew silent, and then continued after some time, his voice even:

"...But they also say that there is a way to escape this terrible place. If one is brave enough… if they are righteous enough… then they would eventually be given a wooden sword, and earn the right to fight for their freedom."

slightly,

nice

worshippers of War were going to just let them

understood it

as Elyas called them — to understand that they were not evil people, or at least did

the most glorious thing. That was why they were happy and joyful when watching their new

the highest form of glory. Dying by

righteous than being killed by a stronger enemy… was

forced to slaughter each other for the entertainment of the crowd. Instead, they were generously

think that any of the slaves would ever be allowed to walk free of the colosseum. Doing

that would have been the vilest form of

'Damned lunatics…'

followers of War God were this bizarre. In fact, he was pretty certain that this murderous sect had been born here, in the Kingdom of Hope. The slavers he had met in the First Nightmare worshipped the same

of Hope was a very strange place throughout, from what little he had

around a thousand years after the destruction of the real kingdom by Sun God. Now, only the name remained. People inhabiting these lands did not even know who the Demon of Desire was, really, only

that their duty was

the people of the kingdom were led by seven lords. Or rather, five, since two had

been separated from the rest of the isles yet, and remained at the center of the region, surrounded by a large city — the beautiful city of aerial bridges and white aqueducts that he had