Bend Around the Wind by Scyllaya

Chapter 94: Battle Royal Part 2

Chapter Ninety-Four

Battle Royal Part II

Svatea-Acram Nebula

The metal around his wrist was burning his skin, searing his flesh, and yet there was no mark. The chains were heavy, weighting his arms down, but still he could move them and his muscles were not sore. He was hurting, but he was not injured. His eyes stung, but he saw everything with the utmost clarity. But no, why did he care about his sight, when he was warm, too warm, burning.

The sound of something hitting the ground with a loud crash distracted him and he found himself watching how a piece of rock burnt in the crater it had created. Then he turned his gaze on the sky and hated it. More fire, when he was already so warm.

He heard somebody speak, but he paid them no mind, his eyes remained fixed on the the falling, blazing shapes. There was too much noise, a fight... no, a battle. He was aware that it was very close and yet it seemed so far away.

Why was he shackled?

Why was he chained?

What place did he have here where he so obviously did not belong? What purpose...

The man that stood in front of him spoke again, took a step closer and raised his arms slowly, but he did not look like he was about to attack. None of what he said could penetrate the fog that wrapped around his mind. The words were but sounds with no meaning.

His chains were yanked on hard and he almost fell. He remained on his feet by digging his heels into the dirt. He twisted around and pulled on the chains in return. His shackles burnt again, he wanted it to stop, he wanted them gone! So he dug his heels in even more and resisted the pull, because he would not be dragged around, he just... no, he would not allow it.

The chains started thrumming with energy. A second later they lit up with golden light right before his eyes and the metal was soon glowing orange like cinder. And then he felt his limbs grow heavy again, it happened before, but each time was a surprise. His strength drained away rapidly and he wasn't able to resist anymore.

This, he knew it happened before. As the moments passed he could recall things with more and more clarity. He knew how this went. First his shackles grew heavy, then they burnt and glowed, and then his strength slipped away as he was dragged down into unwanted slumber. He did not know how many times it happened for whenever he woke up he could barely recall anything that happened before. If he was dragged down again he may lose this one glimmer of lucidity he managed to grab hold of.

No! He would not succumb again.

He gathered what strength he had to fight the chains, but the shackles burnt too much, too warm, too hot. He wanted to scream.

'Disobedient dog,' a voice snarled as the chains dragged him down to the ground despite his struggle. 'When will you learn your place?'

He froze. Not in pain, not in fear, but simply hearing that voice. That voice made him grit his teeth and clench his fists even harder. It was not even the words, but the voice itself. He fought with renewed strength, pulled on the chains no matter how rapidly they sucked his strength away, no matter how thick the fog was growing around his mind.

'Be still!' the voice snarled at him.

And no, he would not! The shackles burnt so much that he felt like his whole body would be set alight. He could feel sweat dripping down his temples, felt how damp his skin was becoming. He needed to cool down. Cold yes, he was too warm. He needed cold, soothing coldness that would chase away the burning weight of his shackles.

Cold, colder than the ground beneath him, colder than the wind on his skin, he needed real cold. He wanted coldness to seep into his very bones, radiate from his very skin. He needed to be rid of this warmth that consumed him and tossed his mind into darkness and impenetrable haze. He needed the harsh and cold clarity of ice.