Tempest Rising

Chapter 1

Beneath the twin moons, a city of floating spires emerged from the mist dissolving off of my window— a celestial metropolis that danced between an architect's dream and reality. It's appearance captivated my attention for a good three seconds before my eyes flickered back to the ethereal glow of my holographic display. The light draped my living room in its own celestial blue as I sank into the plush embrace of my worn-out sofa.

In my cocoon of comfort, I became a spectator to the electrifying dance unfolding on the screen—a fierce battle between Apollo Mallas and Nikolas Demetri, each masterful move sending ripples of anticipation through the air. My fingers, coated with the residue of addictive, cheap Nicasan snacks, clutched the controller, coaxing the volume up a measly 125%.

Within the confines of my humble home, the Titus Arena, thankfully, projected their clash for victory into homes across Aurelia. The echoes of the arena's cheers resonated through the screen's glow, or perhaps from the nearby site of the arena itself. Either way, it created a tapestry of excitement that wove itself into the air.

The opening bell for the second round echoed almost twenty minutes ago, yet both fighters remained undeterred and exuberated a relentless storm of fists, kicks, and blocks.

The first round was an equally intensive fight, rendering Niko the winner by split decision after his incredible display of defence. Both men were locked in a dance of skill and endurance, where Niko was a massive figure, branding well over 6 feet of pure, lean muscle. His short, dusty-brown hair was dripping in sweat and blood, resonating with his bronze, tanned skin. He was a literal paragon of evasion, a well-known master in defensive arts. He held a stance of composed demeanour, narrowed eyes focused, and every movement measured against Apollo's relentless attacks.

Apollo, however, did not rely much on his defensive strategies and, instead, focused on targeting specific vulnerabilities. One jab to Niko's nose. A kick to his knees. An uppercut to his jaw. He was genuinely an aggressive display of strategic willpower, and one powerful shot to Demetri's temple caused him to stagger, pulling away from the proximities of the fight. Niko recovered shortly after, and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in.

"Man, that guy's got some impressive moves," a sudden voice piped behind me. My focus remained tethered to the unfolding spectacle, but I didn't need to look to know Mikaela had let herself in my home. The scent of fresh daisies and honey gave it away easily.

In the corner of my eye, she folded her arms and cast what seemed like a confused glance at the violent performance on the screen.

"You and your brutal taste in entertainment, Roxy. I'll never understand it."

"Mika, " I groaned, not willing to listen to her disapproving thoughts for the hundredth time today.

"What?" she huffed out. "I'm just saying. It's so violent, you know. Can't you pick another hobby like a proper Aurelian lady."

"Such as," I mumbled lazily, uninterested in her advice.

"Such as flower picking."

I scoffed, muffling an outburst of laughter.

"If I wanted to be a proper Aurelian lady, I'd become a concubine to a wealthy Tempest man. Besides, it's not just total violence; it's skill... and, you know... strategy," I defended lazily, my words punctuated by a distracted gaze that refused to relinquish its hold on the screen.

Mika shook her head, her vibrant blonde curls bouncing with a sure defiance in the corner of my eye. "If you say so. I'll never get the appeal of watching people beat each other to a pulp. Seems...intense."