Corvus sighed in irritation as he tried to pull his clothes off over his sling, but the ribbons stayed firmly in place. He was seriously contemplating either tearing them off or going to fight with his thin, white pyjamas on. The constant ‘encouragement’ from Henrith did nothing to help ease these impulses.

“Come on, come on! We don't want to leave you behind so soon!” Henrith chuckled from the other side of the door.

Corvus knew Henrith wasn’t trying to antagonise him, but he was succeeding nonetheless.

“Just go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”. Corvus called back, scowling at his stubborn shirt.

“Not happening. I promised I’d bring you to the colosseum and I’ll be damned if I don’t!” Henrith laughed. “Then again, I’m not the kind to rush you. Take your time, I’ll be at the door.” The sound of his footsteps got quieter and quieter as Henrith strolled away.

“Tugging at that thing won’t help either of you, cabin boy.” Gilgamesh sighed, lounging on the desk.

“Then what will?” Corvus scowled at him.

“Take it off. There is no nature magic in here, just like the infirmary. It’s safe.” Gilgamesh spoke slowly, as if talking to a child.

“It’s not safe!” Corvus shouted, much to Gilgamesh’s surprise. “It’ll kill me if I do anything wrong. It’ll kill me if I take this thing off.” Corvus’ voice became weaker as he sank to his knees, clutching his restrained arm to his chest.

“It’s no time to act like a scared child! If you can’t learn to accept that you’re protected here, I’ll make you!” Gilgamesh’s voice shattered through the room, his eyes shining like infinite wells of black. He reached out his hand, passing it through Corvus’ head. At first Corvus was confused, staring at Gilgamesh’ focussed and concentrated face.

Moments later, Corvus began to convulse, his throat spasmed and his chest constricted as a word tried to escape him. Corvus clutched the ground, trying to fight back, but there was no fighting a power as oppressive as his.

“R-Re…l…en…t.” The word croaked out of Corvus’ mouth, releasing all the tension in his body. He collapsed to the ground, taking slow, laboured breaths.

“See? Not difficult.” Gilgamesh commanded, taking deep breaths of his own.

Instantly, Corvus looked down to his arm. The ribbons that had once pinned it to his chest were gone, the blanket that had once encased his arm, laid crumpled on the ground beneath him. The blackened, twisted flesh of his hand was just as it had been in the infirmary. The golden bracelet that was protecting his life twinkled at the bottom of his wrist, a few inches from the base of his hand.

Corvus stared at the curse, emptying and refilling his lungs in tense terror. He waited for the purple flames to envelop his hand, his arm, the entire room. He waited for his life to come to an end.

It didn’t happen. The cracking charcoal of his hand didn’t flare up. The purple light in his hand was almost completely gone. It was just the same as the infirmary. He had some breathing room here.

“Breathe later. Get dressed now.” Gilgamesh sighed, snapping his fingers in front of Corvus to break his terrified wonder.

Corvus remembered Henrith, getting to his feet and walking to the still-open armoury.

“Do that again and I’ll kill you.” Corvus spoke quietly.

“You may try.” Gilgamesh waved the comment away, flopping down on the mattress.

The piles of clothes that lay in front of Corvus were, upon closer inspection, black combat clothes, complete with extra stretch for extra flexibility. Corvus threw his thin, white clothes off and threw them back towards the mattress, aiming for Gilgamesh’s head. He picked up the set of combat clothes and began throwing them on. Images of himself throwing on clothes with incredible haste as his name was shouted up on deck flashed in his mind, making him waver slightly.

Corvus shook the feeling off, tying the final strap around his stomach. He reached for his belt and strapped it around his waist, adjusting the knives to point towards his left side. He strapped Raven’s holster to his leg, along with the ammo pouch that he filled with Cleo’s new rounds. He snatched up his cutlasses and slid them into his belt, making sure that he could reach them both with his left hand.

Corvus began to stride to the door, picking up his sling and Raven on the way. He stopped just before the door, taking deep breaths as he wrapped up his cursed hand.

“Support.” The word came out like a breath that had been held for hours. The ribbons snaked their way around Corvus’ new clothes, finding purchase and binding his hand back to his chest. With that, Corvus pushed the door open with his shoulder, stepping back out into the lounge.

With a hesitant glance down to his arm, making absolutely sure that it was safe, he made his way back to the porch. Henrith was leaning against the wall, tapping a rhythm on his knees out of boredom. He spotted Corvus, smiling and hopping to his feet.

“Looking good, buddy!” His beaming smile made Corvus forgive his rude awakening instantly. He was wearing the same black combat gear as Corvus, except he had remembered to wear some armour, with studded leather covering his arms and chest. He reached down and picked up a pickaxe which he laid on his shoulder with ease.

“You too.” Corvus nodded to the pickaxe. He reached down and strapped his boots on in seconds.

“Oh, this?” He lifted the tool, examining it. “What can I say? It’s what I'm comfortable with.” He shrugged, the jovial look on his face deepened.

Corvus reached into his pouch, taking two packaged rounds and tearing the thin cloth with his thumb, clicking Raven’s barrels back in her holster and stuffing the rounds in. Henrith’s eyes widened slightly as Corvus pulled Raven out and snapped her back into place, checking her aim with the new ammunition.

“Yeah. I’m comfortable with this too.” Corvus shrugged, holstering Raven and opening the large stone door, motioning for Henrith to lead the way. Henrith eyed Raven, chuckling nervously, before striding out into the corridor.

Corvus joined him, and the pair began to jog down the long, black and green corridor. The fluttering felias shifted to be out of their path, shifting the green light around them, casting warped shadows across their faces.

“Here we are.” Henrith announced, stopping in the middle of the corridor, looking towards a bare wall.

Corvus stopped, raising his eyebrow in confusion.

“This is a wall, Henrith. We’re not trying to get to a wall.” Corvus eyed Henrith, trying to see if he was serious.

“Well noticed. But this isn’t a wall.” He smirked at Corvus, reaching out his hand and pressing his palm against the rough stone.

Several seconds passed with Henrith grinning at the wall, expecting something to happen. His smile vanished instantly, replaced with a mask of pure confusion.

“Wait. It was here wasn’t it?” He scratched his head. “Oh! Hold on.” He snapped his fingers, taking three steps to his left and placing his hand back on the wall.

Green light spilled from between his fingers, spreading out into several lines, forming the shape of one of the uniform black stone doors. Henrith turned to Corvus, a smug smile covering his face.

“Told you.” He winked at Corvus, shoving the door open and striding into the void that was behind it.

“Where does this go to?” Corvus tilted his head, following him into the darkness.

His question was instantly answered by the blinding green light of the coliseum’s braziers. Corvus blinked the spots out of his eyes. They were at the same door that Corvus had first come through to get there, at the top of the steps. The stands were completely full of whispering people of all ages. Gregory was sat in a black throne opposite Corvus, flanked by Kira and Colton.

He flashed Corvus a smile, full of his usual warmth but with a hint of apprehension in his eyes. Colton stared daggers at Corvus, trying to kill him with his eyes. Kira simply regarded Corvus, no emotion showing whether she wanted him protected or killed. Corvus searched the stands, but could not find Cleo anywhere.

“Come on, before they yell at us.” Henrith chuckled, patting Corvus on the back and jogging down the steps.

Corvus followed, returning a cold stare to Gregory. There was motion out of the corner of his eye, which drew his attention away from the self-assured aura of Gregory’s ego. The motion was a wave coming from the children than Corvus had seen upon first arriving in the halls. They were grinning widely, waving their arms in joyous recognition. Corvus waved back, further building their excitement, which caused their parents to shush them.

Another motion caught Corvus’ eye, to his left this time. It was Daeden, the overenthusiastic blacksmith that was working with Cleo to make his cutlasses earlier. He was bounding in his seat, giggling with excitement. Corvus raised an eyebrow and continued onward toward the centre of the giant ring.

Corvus looked down to the dark sand in the colosseum. Everyone in his group were standing in a semi-circle around two figures in the centre, one of which was familiar. There was the short, chiselled man that Corvus had seen overseeing the last group of trainees, his face still locked in a permanent stony scowl.

Beside him, stood his perfect opposite. A tall, muscled man whose exposed stomach muscles shone and sparkled in the green light. His flowing, shoulder length blue hair flapped out behind him, as if he was being blown by a non-existent breeze. His face oozed vanity and confidence, a self-assured smirk plastered on his face, spreading all the way to his turquoise eyes.

“Stop gawking and get down here, boy!” The short man shouted at Corvus, his red eyes flashing with irritation. All the eyes in the arena turned to Corvus, an air of impatience growing in the arena.

Corvus raised his hand in apology, leaping down the steps three at a time. He reached the sand in seconds, sliding forward a few feet on the warm sand. Corvus straightened, striding forward to join the rest of his friends. Aria and Henrith parted, allowing Corvus to stand between them, playful smirks covering both of their faces.

The short man huffed, turning back to face Gregory, his arms raised, as if to address the entire colosseum.

“To all of Desperius!” His deep, earthy voice echoed through the stones around the arena. “These are your new family members! You will see how they move, how they fight, how they live! See them and see them well!” The stands started cheering at the group, some even standing up and whistling.

The taller man raised his hand, quieting the stands almost instantly.

“My Lord Lias.” The man’s voice was surprisingly high pitched, sounding twenty years younger than how he looked. “As you well know, it is customary for a demonstration of the peak of skill these young bloods may achieve one day. It is your decision as to who is the peak of skill, and thus who will set a target for all of us.”

Gregory stood up, his back straight and his head held up high.

“The peak of skill in Desperius is held by so many wonderful people. My closest protectors and dearest friends, Kira and Colton, hold the best teamwork and all-round skill. Our fastest scout and most versatile blacksmith, Cleo, holds the fastest speed and most adaptive skillset. She is one of the three Swallows in Desperius, and is recognised as our most terrifying warrior, the Dark Cobra.

“You, Alex,” Gregory motioned to the tall man.” “are the most skilled martial fighter in the history of Desperius, not to mention the strides you have helped us make in weapon designs and the fact you are another of the three Swallows. The title of Weapon-Master suits you perfectly.

“And last, but far from least, is you, Odere.” Gregory smiled to the small man. “You are the most experienced fighter without question, and the number of skills and the depth of knowledge you possess are unparalleled. You deserve the title of Spell-Sword more than any man, and the Swallow talisman that you hold is the best reward we have to give you.”

Throughout the speech, Corvus’ group were whispering to each other, gossiping about what kind of ‘lesson’ they will see, and who Gregory will call forth to demonstrate. Jack was leaning in to Lanya, who was clearly not entirely comfortable with it, trying his best to make jokes which didn’t fall flat. May had a flintlock on her belt, while spinning a short, straight iron bar in her hand absently.

Damian was shuffling his feet nervously, darting his eyes around to the many people in the colosseum, gripping his shoulders tightly, digging the shields on his wrists into his arms. Aria and Henrith were trading giggles about Odere’s height and Alex’s hair. Johanna was staring at Corvus, a large great-sword sticking into the ground beside her, along with several other glints of metal underneath the large, black leather jacket that she wore.

“As a demonstration,” Gregory continued. “I believe it would be best for you two to lead the training.” He pointed down at Alex and Odere.

The two men smiled and bowed at Gregory. The colosseum erupted in applause and cries of appreciation for the upcoming spectacle.

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening, what’s happening?” Corvus turned to Henrith, eyebrow raised.

“What’s happening is we have to get out the way, or we’re going to be caught in the crossfire.” His smile was wide and excited.

“Stop talking. Start watching.” Aria nudged Corvus with her elbow, gesturing for him to look at the two men.

Corvus moved his gaze to the teachers, and immediately had to double take. Both men had taken golden objects out of various pockets and began fitting them to themselves. Odere had a golden broach, which he fitted to the inside of his shirt, while Alex had a set of golden earrings which he snapped into place, dangling from his earlobes.

The two men nodded to each other and then to the group, making sure they are safely out of reach.

Then they went for each other’s throats.