Every 5 years, a game unites 10 realms offering the ultimate champion, immortality. Those who are not as successful, will live in wealth and infamy. There is really no loss, isn't it? For sure, there is nothing nefarious about this, right?
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CHAPTER 5 HAR BANA, HRAVAR DOMINION HOLY DOMINION OF ARATH
"Hey, where's the necklace I gave you?" Mikayel noticed his brother's empty neck.
As Manvel held out his arm, a black string wrapped around his wrist came into view, adorned with a small gemstone resembling a pebble. Although unremarkable at first glance, the stone caught the older brother's attention with its subtle glimmer and distinct glint, prompting him to reach out and touch it.
"Our father entrusted me with protecting you, and he left this item for you to look after," Mikayel affirmed as he untied the strand and draped it over Manvel's neck, transforming it into a necklace. "It's more fitting as a necklace than a bracelet," the older brother noted. "This is our father's legacy to you. It's a tangible reminder of his presence among us in the world of the living. His remnant, I would say."
Mikayel nodded "Yes brother." and continued to eat the khinkali.
"Cursed boy, you ain't allowed here!" The brothers looked up as a loud male voice interrupted their conversation. Standing by the table was a taller Arathite, flanked by two equally imposing companions. "We can't have you bringing pestilence into this fine establishment." he continued, his tone laced with contempt.
As the male standing next to the brothers continued to hover, Mikayel narrowed his eyes in annoyance, while Manvel averted his gaze. "Leave us alone, Levan," the older brother's voice was firm, with a touch of warning.
Levan's posture, the way he held his chin high and met others' gaze with a steely glint, all served to confirm his reputation as the local bully. As the son of the chaplain governor of Har Bana, his behavior was often enabled by his family's influence, making him all the more feared and despised by those around him.
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"How dare you talk to me as if I'm some commoner! Leave, Mikayel, and take your damned brother with you," the taller male in the sleek white and teal jerkin retorted, convinced that his reason and the younger boys' condition justified his actions. "And don't you dare take that tone with me, if you know what's good for you."
Levan was familiar with the names of the brothers because the chaplain's family had a strong connection with the orphanage. The facility was funded by the government and was indirectly involved in its operations.
"Let's go, brother," Manvel whispered through tears, and Mikayel knew he had to let it go. He glanced at his younger sibling and saw the pain etched on his face as well as the burden of not wanting to be a further burden to their orphanage. Trying to be the bigger person, Mikayel stood up without a word, left lihr on the table, and motioned for his brother to follow him out of the establishment.
Levan and his companions chortled as if they had won a battle and the brothers' departure was a sign of surrender. "Heathens," one of the companions sneered. "It's no surprise your parents abandoned you," and the three of them guffawed loudly.
