The Adsertor

The Beginning

Marcus Cervidae, second son of the Duke of the North, stepped into the lunchroom. The mood was dull, which was a surprise because every single one of the Chimaera here should feel honoured. It was a sacred cause after all. Aeron Pantherae Leonis, The Crown Prince of the Chimaera had returned from wherever the hell he had been. The Prince hadn't been seen for more than five years when he suddenly reappeared again and requested a bodyguard. He and the King had asked the Senators to each provide a champion to represent them in a quest to pick the bravest warrior and crown him protector of the Prince. The whole ordeal had been a secret, not a soul in the outside world knew about it. Marcus had always dreamed to be a warrior, not a scolar like his father and older brother and he had seen his chance. At first his father hadn't been to keen of the idea of his son being the Duke's champion but Marcus had begged him and they had made an agreement. If he would fail, which was most likely as he wasn't a professional killer as many of the other Participants, Marcus would come back home and Study at Academy's Peek, just like his Brother Octavius. Marcus had been happy with the agreement but now he was standing in the lunchroom of the Bunker-that's what they are calling the training complex of the championship-he couldn't help but feel as if he maybe hadn't thought his plan through. The lunchroom was already filled with people. He saw the staff working in the back, serving the food. It looked alright, not the type he was used to but he could roll with it. The tables were positioned in different ways. Some could serve more than eight people, but if you wished to dine a little more intimate there were tables for two as well. He sighed. Meeting new people was not one of his strong suits. He never knew how to react to other people his age as there were none but his brother in the North, where he grew up. He sat down at a longer table where a group of young men and women sat listening to the story of a boy. They didn't even acknowledge him and prayed to the gods they wouldn't recognise him. Marcus had wanted to leave home as soon as he possibly could. He had seen his chance and he took it. But he had never imagined how he needed to interact with these people. Most of them looked really buff and capable of killing him in a variety of ways. "Look who joined us!" a Maouri girl said. Her eyes were solid dark brown but no other features indicated her Famillia. He should have known he couldn't be that lucky. Of course they recognised him. "What are you doing here, my Deer Lord?" she snickered "Your estate is more northbound, if you were wondering. I am sure you can ask the staff for a guide." The rest of the group tried to hide their sneers, with the emphasis on tried. Marcus decided then and there he did not like this girl and her little clique but he wasn't giving up that easily. He had honour to defend after all. Marcus hoped his irritation wasn't present in his voice when he spoke: "I was sent here by my father, to participate in the championship along with the rest of you." The group looked at him as if he had sprouted antlers and to be fair he was able to do that. "somebody has daddy issues" whispered someone. He ignored that comment. "This isn't a place for deer," the Maori girl's tone turned a little darker, "I can assure you that you will be hunted down, there will always be a target on your back, my lord." Marcus knew when to pick his fights "I think everyone here wants to be crowned champion, It's only fair you try your best." And with that comment he got up and left the lunchroom to find the dormitory.

"That couldn't have gone worse." He thought. The doors to the boy's dormitory cracked open and a boy sprinted out, almost colliding with Marcus. He quickly apologized and ran off. Marcus sighed, he had imagined a totally different scenario. Luckily the dorm was now empty. There were four bunked beds. "Great" he whispered to the impersonal space. Five of the beds were already claimed so he chose the top bunk farthest away from the rest of them and threw his bag onto the thin mattress. He had not brought any personal items and was glad of it. He did not want these people to see him as soft or scared. It was apparent he would already need to prove his worth. He took out his clothes and refolded them before he put them in his assigned locker for personal items. Toothbrush, toothpaste and a hairbrush were waiting in the locker. He also found a piece of soap. The only other thing he had brought was he sword. It was a long sword, to hold with both hands. It was the perfect length to use on horseback or in his case when he was in his animalia form. The Famillia of the Duke were Cervidae, deer. They were direct descendants of Tammany, the lord of the forest himself, a fact he'd always felt proud of and he was very proud of his shift even if he could only shift to one other form, not the usual three. He could transform his entire lower body into the lower body of a stag and his naturally pointy ears grow longer and antlers grow from his skull. Although he can only shift once, his personal magic is extremely strong. The male has the ability to let every plant, vine, flower or tree grow the way he wants it to, in any form he wants it to. Because he was born on three October but has the powers of the Spirit of Spring, his mother had always called him a child of Autumn claimed by Spring. He lay down on his mattress, one arm supporting his head and let his magic flow. Little vines crawled down from the cracks in the ceiling. They reached his fingertips, circled down his hand and wrist. The calm practise of magic let him blow off a little steam and it wouldn't be for the last time he wondered: Had he made the right choice?

Training scene

Three months, He had been here three months and nothing had changed. The bossy Maouri girl, Nikora Macropi still looked at him sceptically although she turned out to be not the biggest pain in the ass. That would be Gunnarr Hippopotamidae. A giant brute with arms like tree trunks and who never seemed to leave her side. The male was just simply rude. He tried to avoid them most of the time but it is less efficient when you are all sleeping in the same room. At least Gunnarr wasn't that bad when Nikora wasn't there to witness it. The nights he let Vines grow from the ceiling excluding him from the rest of the room and giving him some breathing room. Marcus minded his own business. He trained as much as he could, tried to perfect the moves and the exercises, it was the only time he truly enjoyed. He always ate alone at his table for two. Most of the time someone stole the other chair so they could sit at Nikora's table. She almost looked sympathetic. He was in the training room again. He had a strict schedule. In the morning before the majority was awake he would practise the different moves they taught so as little people as possible saw him fail. After breakfast he would workout his arms and a brake before the lessons start. He would do the mandatory exercises with the rest of the class until lunch. Then he had a two-hour nap before he worked on his legs for a little and weapon training which differs every day. After dinner he worked on the special exercises again so he could fully manage them. Right now a double kick wasn't working and he became more and more irritated. He seemed to twist his body in the wrong way and couldn't figure it out. An advantage of having no friends is not being obligated to socialize, so he could practise more. He had been in the gym for four hours when his stomach grumbled and took it a sign to take a brake and go get dinner. He didn't bother to shower before he went. He was going to train later anyway. The doors opened and he immediately noticed that the room was remarkably quiet as it was usually quite hectic. Now he could only hear the whispers of Nikora's clique. He grabbed his dinner but none of the stares were on him but still he couldn't sense anything off. He walked to his usual table when he noticed all the glances were following him. He snickered, Go figure. When he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a stranger sitting at his table. The entire room seemed to hold its breath. The Stranger was pretty enough, not muscular but lean. It certainly wasn't what you would expect in a competition like this one. He hadn't raised his head yet and he was eating the same dinner Marcus had picked up. The Male's blond hair seemed a bit greasy, he had a rough stubble and his skin was quite pale but not pale enough to be Moezungu. The stranger looked up and the Stag noticed his light brown, almost honey coloured cat eyes. He also had been staring at the male for a solid minute. "eh hey" the stag stammered and sat down. That night when he went back to training he wasn't really focused. He listened to the gossip about the stranger. He learned two things; The male used to be a slave who fought in the Gladiator Games in the South, he had not only fought but had won. It made Marcus feel a little sad that he was now stuck here. It was as much a prison as the Amphitheatre. Also the male had now a name, they called him Nero