"𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡"

Chapter 3: Suna Lowen

Thane awoke to the sensation of cold stone against his skin and the sound of footsteps echoing around him. His head was spinning, a dull throb pulsing at his temples, and his body ached with the unmistakable signs of a recent struggle. As he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, he realized he was being dragged unceremoniously across a stone floor by two guards. Their grip on his arms was firm and unyielding.

Eventually, the guards halted, and one of them delivered a sharp kick to his back. The force of the blow jolted him painfully, and he grimaced, biting back a curse. "Stand up, criminal," commanded a woman's voice, firm and authoritative. It cut through the haze of his confusion, demanding his attention.

Thane struggled to his feet, his legs shaky and unsteady. His vision was still blurred as he tried to focus on the figure standing before him. "Who are you?" he croaked, his voice rough and hoarse from disuse and fatigue.

The woman rose from her seat with an air of undeniable authority, her presence commanding the room. She was dressed in regal attire, her posture straight and unwavering. "I am Suna Lowen, the Queen of Ivonmoure," she declared, her voice resonating with the confidence and power befitting her title.

Thane stared at her, bewildered. The name struck a chord deep within him, as did the mention of the kingdom of Ivonmoure. Though the memories were elusive, there was a sense of familiarity about it all that he couldn't quite grasp.

"You dare to trespass in my kingdom?" Suna challenged, her gaze piercing and accusatory. "Tell me, young man, how do you plead?" Her words hung in the air, carrying the weight of her judgment and expectations.

"I am merely a wanderer who stumbled upon this place," Thane replied, trying to keep his voice steady. He knew he was in a precarious situation, and he needed to tread carefully.

Suna's eyes narrowed, skepticism and distrust evident in her expression. It was clear she wasn't easily convinced by his words. "Then prove yourself," she demanded, her tone brooking no argument. "I challenge you to a duel. If you lose, you will perish. If you win, you shall go free." Her challenge was as much a test of character as it was of skill.

Thane met her gaze defiantly, the fire of his spirit undiminished despite his circumstances. "Bitch, what kind of justice is that?" he scoffed, a hint of incredulity in his voice. "Fine, I accept." He had no choice but to rise to her challenge, to fight for his life and his freedom.

Suna gestured for her guards to escort him to the coliseum, where the duel would take place, while she prepared her armor. As she donned her gear, a thought nagged persistently at the back of her mind. "Where have I heard that voice before?" she wondered, her curiosity piqued. There was something about him that stirred a memory, a connection she couldn't quite place.

The anticipation of the upcoming duel filled the air with tension. Thane, though wary of the odds stacked against him, felt a strange sense of determination rising within. He knew that this encounter with the formidable Queen of Ivonmoure would test not only his skills but also his resolve. As he was led to the coliseum, he steeled himself for the battle ahead, aware that the outcome would determine his fate.