The Rust-Stained Earth

II: Number 126,823

The chandelier lit up the study, shining down on the desk in the middle of the room and making it's surface shine. I looked away from the black clothed man, studying the books on the shelves.

"I don't apologise for my hypocrisy by the way." He said in a deep calm voice.

"Of course you don't." I continued to look at the shelves, I don't enjoy looking guys in the eyes.

"I will excuse your backtalk and stick by my earlier claim of getting straight to the point. I know you're secrets, including your reasons for entering the Rustage Arena." He said in a smug tone, still staring me down with his bizarrely golden eyes. "The first and most obvious reason for your enrollment was to get food and money to survive."

"Hmph" I nodded while giving him a sarcastic thumbs up which the prick completely ignored.

"You were in a tough situation as your already poor mother died from the Plague... How melancholic."

Melancholic? That was it I guess, no condolences, no I'm Sorry. Should I have expected anything else from the upper echelon of society? This trash just can't understand the pain people like me go through, we put up with so much shit in our lives while guys like this get slaves to sort out their problems.

"Now for the second reason which is arguably much more important and the main point of discussion."

I finally rested my bent neck to look at the man, he'd decided to wear a malicious grin. His eyes carving a hole through my head, making my body tingle. I won't submit to any cheap tricks.

"I believe you're trying to use the prize money to save your sister."

I narrowed my gaze, Mr. Bigshot was going to have to watch what he said very carefully. Just how much did he know? How did he know?

"You obviously know all the details, as this is your life but for the sake of the discussion... After your mother became deceased your sister got taken by a slave trader and sold to a very rich man. Unfortunately for you; 126,823, slaves aren't bought for cheap. At this rate it'll take you over 10 years to free her. Especially since she's got her life ahead of her, I'm sure she will grow into a good slave. She'll be worth a pretty penny in her adolescence."

Pretty Penny? The eerie coldness in my body vanished, it was being replaced by a. Burning. Hot. Anger. I looked around the room, taking only a split second to identify pencils on the desk, a ceramic pot on a shelf to my left, the wooden chair in front of me.

"She's not an object." I replied in a voice full of hate. "You should watch what you say, there are a lot of things I can use to kill you in this room." I looked into his eyes, making sure he could see my hatred, feel my hatred.

"That is beside the point, also don't think you can scare me. I know what it takes to kill someone." he responded in that calm voice, but I could sense the danger. He was not bluffing.

"The reason for you being called here is that I have an opportunity for you to free her, and it will only take 11 weeks. Very convenient if I do say so."

My mind froze. But my body moved forward till I was standing right in front the desk, looking down on the calm and collected man. I want to desperately ask how, but I don't know if I can trust him. This is making me uneasy. He keeps looking at me with that gaze, that knowing gaze. Is it a trick? There's no way of knowing, I don't even know who this guy is.

He snapped me back to reality. "In 10 weeks there will be an expedition. It will take approximately a week and if you achieve your goal I'll free your sister."

"What? Expedition? Where the hell would you have an expedition in this city? Also why?"

"You'll get your answers soon enough, this is confidential information. I can only give you what's permitted at this stage. To answer your first proper question, It'll be in the pits." He said in the nonchalant voice I've ever heard.