Tides of Fate by Sean J. Leith

Author:Sean J. Leith [Leith, Sean J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781999547615
Published: 2019-01-06T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-five

The Beast Within

Zaedor Nethilus

“It’s been a fortnight since his fight with Gorlin,” Kindro said. “Do you think they’ll pick him again soon?”

“Definitely. They usually wait so they have a comeback after being broken for so long.” Freya sighed.

“Do you think he’s going to win?”

“No clue. He’s got a good heart, and more anger than I’ve seen in anyone for a while. It could go either way. I have hope, but he could get beaten again. Poor guy.”

“I’m awake, I’ll have you know,” Zaedor grumbled.

It was early in the morning, or so they were told. The guards kept time for them and attempted to allow decent sleep schedules. Fighters who slept well fought better. While those who imprisoned them were brutal, they weren’t stupid. Zaedor’s back ached from the awkward sleep, his nose ached from being broken, and his chin still had a strange click when it opened too wide. It wasn’t enough to impair him. ‘Your physical side is fine,’ Freya had said. ‘You need the mind of a fighter, a man in the midst of a vital battle. You aren’t sparring here.’ There was one question he hadn’t asked, that frustrated him since day one. “Why are you helping me?” he finally inquired. Kindro coughed up a laugh, and Freya sighed loudly.

“Because, Mr. ‘Zaedor of Amirion,’ you have a good heart. Despite being a bit of a drake, you do deserve a mourning period,” Freya said, rolling her eyes.

Kindro scratched his scraggly beard. “There’s nothing to do around here, and helping you makes me feel like I’m not just here to die.”

Zaedor chuckled. What an interesting pair. A hairy, funny, scraggly man, and a beautiful, sweet, but fierce woman. It had only been a week, and he felt like he knew them for years. Being locked up in a cage infuriated him; speaking with Kindro and Freya was the only thing not driving him mad. If it were not for them, he would have been dead already.

He lost his home, his leader, his friends, and his beliefs. Part of him wished he’d died in the ring a fortnight ago, but death refused to take him. Why do you test me, Death? Part of him wished to end it all right here. If he had a blade in hand, he probably would have done it already. He sprouted tears now and again, hoping Kindro and Freya didn’t see.

“Listen, you can’t be all frilly, happy-go-lucky in the ring. Use your hate and anger to your advantage. You seethe for revenge, and this is your chance. If we ever get out of here, maybe you’ll get it for real. Just don’t be a moron,” Freya reminded him, playing with her long ponytail.

She was right, but Zaedor didn’t know how to channel it. He only knew what made him angry—but what was he to target? His thoughts were clouded. He knew the event occurred, but he could only remember it in bits and pieces.

The door slammed open. Maroia entered, shooting a creepy grin to the room as he glanced from cage to cage.

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