Xylia

Twenty Six

It could be worse I mused, trying to ignore the sting of spears that prodded my neck.

"You know the drill Xylia, keep moving." One of my captors barked out. She was older, silver streaks brushed over high cheekbones and thin pointed lips emanated a clear "don't mess with me" vibe. On any other given day, they could have been friends.

Today was not that day.

Somewhere behind me Volkan coughed. I could hear the steady cadence of Drea's gait, her metal leg echoed in the cramped hallway.

My mind buzzed with the influx of sensations. My armor was too heavy, the room was too hot, the knot in my stomach grew with every step I took.

Everest's name was an unwelcome thought, but one that surfaced along with anger, confusion, and hope. The last emotion was warily considered but quickly shoved aside.

Survive first, rationalize later.

Light flared and next thing I knew, I was surrounded by a sea of Cyrans.

There was no warning before the attacks came. Broken snarls and flashes of black zipped through my vision. To my left a cry of pain echoed followed by the sickening tear of flesh.

Did I know them?

I raised my sword, my feet carrying me across the colosseum. My vision widened. Drea huddled by a cluster of survivors by the gate. Volkan and Navin pressed back to back a few yards to Drea's right, their dark eyes unblinking.

The mass of black remained fixed in the middle.

"People of Cyra, no longer do we have to live within these walls." The Commander began, emerging from a platform at the crest of the colosseum.

Mongologing. You've got to be kidding me.

The beast remained hunched, tufts of midnight fur rising and falling with every ragged breath.

"Like our ancestors before us we are survivors."

Trunk like arms connected to a burly frame. Long matted hair, plastered to its face.

His face?

"But we must look further in our history."

The beast- the man, rose. His giant frame eclipsed my view of Drea. I adjusted my sword, trying to remember Bellum's tactics.

"We are heirs to an untamed kingdom. Explorers to uncharted lands. Descendants of divine blood."

The beat's lips parted revealing blood stained canines. Vacant azure eyes drank in the survivors.

Blood red hair, unblinking gaze, the air of danger: War's incarnate.

My lungs shriveled. "Bellum."

As if the Commander heard my revelation, he declared, "Before us lies not a beast, but a disconnected spirit."

My heart stuttered. Only half of Bellum bonded with me. This is his other half.

"Beyond these walls not only dwell these hybrids but other enchanted creatures. Their king speaks of a city across the sea. A nation whose people embrace their divinity."

A distant conversation with Blackbeard Hey surfaced. Half-bonds lose their humanity the longer they're bonded. But there's still a chance...

Hope peaked while common sense roared in defiance at my thoughts.

"Brothers and sisters let us go home." The Commander turned toward the arena, a frown pulled at the edges of his lips.

Asshole probably thought I was dead. I flipped him off affectionately.

"But before we embrace our new identity, we must eliminate those who've held us back." Although we were hundreds of yards apart, I could hear the shiteating smile in his voice.

"The Cyrans before us remain a threat to our salvation."

"They are criminals- " Drea spat out some colorful words.

"- they are traitors -" Volkan rose, a low growl rumbled in his chest.

"-they are unfit to live beside us. So as a testament to our older traditions, I have gathered the so called 'beast' ". His voice became mocking. A nervous chuckle filled the air. The beast sank lower into the ground.

"To finish our chapter in our walled city." He raised his hand to the Cyrans. "Onward and upward," he began.

"For the glory of my people." The arena finished.

I barely recognized Drea's voice. "Xylia," her voice wavered, " I could really go for one of your plans right now."

The beast's frame spasmed.

Let's see if friendship can pull a second win.

I cupped my hands to my mouth. "Hey Bellum, remember me!" Blackbeard groaned. An unfamiliar voice muttered "we're all dead".

I ignored them, my eyes trained on the sarcastic buttface trapped in the monster of a man.

"Its me Xylia! I'm the asshole who you've been stuck with for the past few weeks." The beast didn't move. Encouraged, I pressed on.

"Now if you could all do us a favor and get your host on a chill pill, I'd totally owe you one."

The beast craned it's head, as if considering my offer. And I swear to the spirits his face softened.

"What's going on down there? Why aren't they dead?" Irritation laced the Commander's voice.

"It's called the power of friendship bitch."

A small click, pinged through the arena, followed by a small silver object bouncing across the arena.

"Grenade!" Someone shouted.

My brow furrowed. "What the hell is a gren-?"

I was out before I hit the ground.