Written by Giovanna
Fighting the trembling in her gut, she fought her way through the crowds. She could hear the talk of the people with her shifted ears. She didn’t like what she heard.
“...going to be killed...” “...yes, a traitor...” “...black-robed mage!”
She blanched and made her ears human again as she was swept into the arena where Emperor Ozorne executed his enemies. She found a seat in the first row, and huddled there, twisting her fingers.
Suddenly, trumpets sounded; she, and many others, looked up to the highest seats. The Emperor, along with many of his lords and Varice, were sitting down.
Shifting her eyes into an eagle’s, Varice’s face came into close view. The blonde’s eyes were rimmed in red from crying. Her hair was tousled, and she was pale.
:But she isn’t doing anything to stop this!: Daine’s mind screamed. Shaking, she turned around...
...and gasped when six soldiers - all heavily muscled - led a struggling man into the center of the arena.
:Numair!:
He was fighting furiously; Daine could see, by the limps some of the soldiers had, that Numair had managed a few good kicks.
:It won’t be enough!:
But she held her tongue. :Wait until the right time...why doesn’t he use his Gift to get out!?!: Careful observation revealed that he had an iron collar around his neck. :Ah, that explains it...:
Ozorne stood. Daine counted to ten; she was still enraged at the way he had tricked and drugged her.
“The traitor,” began the Emperor, his voice ringing in the silence. “The traitor Arram Draper, also known as Numair Salmalín, has been found guilty of plotting with our enemies, disobeying our orders, and, in-part, ruining the peace accords.”
Ozorne paused. Daine almost screamed from the tension.
“The sentence...”
Daine clamped her eyes closed.
“Death.”
Varice’s wailing made Daine reopen her eyes and stare at her. Was this the same composed, snobby Varice Kingsford?
Numair was glaring at the Emperor. “You plot with the enemies; you disobey orders, you broke the accords!” he yelled, enraged, struggling against his captors’ strong grips.
“Silence!” snarled Ozorne. “You will -”
“I will nothing!” retorted Numair. It was as if both former-friends had forgotten that they weren’t alone. “You’re stupid, Your Imperial Majesty, if you think that this will be left alone. If you kill me, all of the Eastern Lands will -”
“Yes, yes,” Ozorne interrupted, gesturing. “I’ve heard it all before. But it is you who are stupid, Arram. You are the one who came back to save that girl, even when I proved that it was she who had broken the accords with you.”
Daine froze. What did Ozorne mean? Suddenly, it dawned apon her. It had been a set-up...her for Numair. Why hadn’t she seen it before?
Numair snorted. “No one believed you, Ozorne. So, go ahead, kill me. You’ll be sorry.”
A cruel smile lit Ozorne’s face. “Ah, you don’t understand,” he said quietly. He stopped and muttered soundlessly. A speaking-spell - for privacy - came to Numair. Daine shifted so she could hear...and wished that she hadn’t.
“When you’re gone, Arram,” Ozorne’s spelled voice whispered, “I’ll take the girl for one of my lovers, with her will or without it. And when I’m rammin’ it in her, I’ll think of you, sound fair?”
Numair, his eyes burning, whispered to the spell, “You bastard. You wouldn’t dare.”
“Yes, I would,” the spell replied haughtily. “I’ve just discovered the spells that controls people with wildmagic. So no matter how much she tries, Veralidaine won’t be able to claw me.”
Numair took a shuddering breath when Ozorne went on.
“Have you ever had her?” the Emperor’s spell asked softly. Daine felt sick. “Have you imagined that beautiful hair of hers cascading through your hands; that smooth skin pressed against yours; those soft lips covering you with kisses and -”
“I refuse to listen to you,” hissed Numair. But Ozorne kept on talking; hastily, Daine drew away, thinking she was going to vomit. All around her, she was hearing people say,
“...when are they going to start?” “...this is boring...”
“Bring out the Masters!” yelled Ozorne suddenly. His private conversation with Numair was over.
Instantly, five tall humans - three men and two women - entered the arena. Struggling once more, Numair was dragged to a wall and chained against it, his arms and legs stretched out.
“Ye gods,” whispered Daine. She found it hard to breathe as she moved through the people to get closer to Numair.
“Goodbye, Arram,” called Ozorne, sitting down again. He motioned at the Masters. “Begin!”
One of the women took aim and threw a dagger; it lodged itself in Numair’s thigh. He cried out; Daine moved faster until she was directly above Numair.
Another man took aim; the dagger pierced into Numair’s shoulder. He closed his eyes tight and bit his lips until they bled.
Daine jumped down and landed crouched at his feet as the third dagger jabbed beneath Numair’s ribs.
There was instant chaos. Numair’s eyes cleared as she pushed off her hood and turned around, shielding his body with hers as she shifted her hands into claws and...
...before she could stop herself, the other woman Master had thrown her dagger. With a gasp of shock, Daine doubled over, feeling the cold metal enter her stomach.
She whirled around and collapsed against Numair. She heard Ozorne holler, “No, wait!”
But the last Master had thrown; the dagger went through her back.
“No!” Numair screamed; Daine blinked at him, tasting a bitter substance in her mouth.
Blood.
Her blood.
“I...” she rasped; blood streamed down her mouth and she couldn’t speak. Her head was starting to reel. Closing her eyes against the pain, she reached up and with trembling fingers/claws, picked the lock on Numair’s collar. It opened; Numair blasted himself free, then lowered her to the ground.
She gasped for air, her eyes starting to glaze with death. “I’m...so...sorry. Please...I...”
“Daine! Ah, gods! Not this, not...No!” whispered Numair, his eyes overflowing.
“Numair...” Her eyes closed and she smiled for the last time. Her last feeling was her teacher’s warm lips on hers, desperate to give life.
When she didn’t respond, Numair started to sob, his mouth still on hers. Grief racked through his body; screams of rage and pain tore his throat. “No! Don’t... Don’t leave me...you can’t do this to me! Daine!” He shook her violently. No answer. “Daine...wake up! Come back! Please...” The last was a whisper. Then, he kissed her one last time, and he picked her up and carried her across the arena - regardless of his wounds - where the Emperor waited.
“Give her to me,” Ozorne murmured. “She’ll be buried and mourned properly as one of ours.”
“She was never yours to mourn,” replied Numair in a hard voice. “Never.”