Burning Ashes

Chapter 5: The Birth of a Sorcerer - Part 1

Smile and the world is yours.

A quiet giggle escapes my mouth when, for some reason, I remember my personal motto. To be honest, I don't even remember when I started thinking this way. But I'm not lying when I tell you that this saying contains more wisdom than it may appear. Because when you smile, your enemies don't know what's going through your head. You show your superiority and how no situation can get you down. You become a walking expression of competence, confidence and courage. So, there's never a moment in life when you shouldn't just smile, is there?

The knight who opened the lock is now standing in my cell with four other knights and one of them is tying my hands again. Ah, how I've missed this, the feeling of being tied up. Said no one, ever.

... Okay, maybe there are some people who like it, but I'm not one of them! "We're leaving." With that short order, I'm dragged behind the knights with the rope again. It's dead quiet as we walk. The only sounds come from our footsteps and the occasional whisper between the knights or civilians we pass. Why an execution should take place in a Colosseum is a bit too much for me. I would have expected a block of wood and a basket, until it turns out I'm the Dragonborn and learn a cool shout that sends my enemies flying through the air with seven hundred somersaults.

"Why a Colosseum of all things? Wouldn't just a gas station restroom have sufficed for an execution?" "Gas station what?" Hehe, the knight is confused, mission accomplished. "Stop making up words, sorcerer. It's an honor that you can meet your end in the Colosseum. What's more, Sir Ardent is taking care of you, so show some gratitude!" Uh, this guy is already annoying me. Unlike the other knights who've already wet their diapers around me, this one is acting like Mr. Big Balls. "But I want to tell you, since you still have the right to know why we approach executions the way we do." Well, thank you very much, Baldy. Oh yes, I forgot to mention, but the leader of the little knight troop here has such a shiny head that I could easily check if I had pimples on my face. "Even though it's called an execution, it's more like a fight. You will be put up against an opponent who is vastly superior to you, and he will kill you in front of the people of Avara. This shows the people that they are in strong arms, and they feel all the more secure when bastards like you appear and get their heads cut off in front of everyone. And as a nice bonus, the guilds make a bit of money from people paying to get in."

Interesting interpretation for executions. So, the basic idea is to show the inhabitants that there is no one who could take on the powers in this kingdom and thus provide a sense of security. Since the opponents are always chosen so that they win hands down against the condemned prisoners, the illusion is created that the kingdom has no weaknesses. Or at least none that could be seen.

That sounds like deliberate mass manipulation when you think about it. I wonder if the princess has implemented this idea, I wouldn't be surprised. "We're here." After a comparatively long walk through Avara, we finally arrive at the place called the "Colosseum". From the looks of it, it is located in the heart of the kingdom and is exactly what it sounds like. A huge, stone construction, with stairs for the visitors and a hollow interior for the fighters.

The knights waste no time in taking me to a corner of the Colosseum and lock me behind iron bars again, so that I now have some in front of and behind me. One of them even slips a sword under the small opening at the bottom of the bars and smiles maliciously. The sword is, how do you say this politely again, absolutely shit. Apart from the obvious rust stains, for some reason, it stinks wretchedly. My guess is the smell of urine, but I really don't want to think about that before my stomach turns. Well, at least they removed the rope before they threw me in here. I simply smile at the knight and say goodbye with a raised middle finger. Judging by his reaction, it conveyed exactly the message it was supposed to. How nice, even in different cultures, some gestures retain their meaning.