Order of the Alpha #2

30

CHAPTER 30:

In a fight, you have a decision to make. Not just one, but the main one is will you give up, surrender the sword, dagger, or gun and stand vulnerable, kneel to wait for death? Or do you shoot till the last bullet is fired? Slice into skin and bone with silver till the enemies' blood is spread across the floor as war paint stains permanently?

Before...I was afraid. No—I was petrified of entering another set of games. It's why I strongly refused to enter this tournament. This entrance is the only way to get that map, but if there was any other, I would never have touched the surface of these games. Of risking another fight before the last one finished.

The thought of fighting for your life just to provide entertainment, to set a medal on a scoreboard, to make a name for yourself...it's not worth it if death is permanently sitting in the corner, waiting to clutch your life and suck it right out of its place.

I needed time. I needed answers.

I needed a life without war paint streaming like a river around me.

My canvas of life was a messy destruction of levels. The level of birth. The level of the orphanage. For getting into and working for the werewolf council. For believing I saw a man as my father, but never knowing who my birth parents were. For finding too many men in my life, and for turning a blind eye to the dangers of it.

I turned a blind eye to many things before I came here to Nocturne.

That had to change.

Classes became more intense the closer exams creeped in and the real tests based on physical and mental stability was put on trial everywhere. I'd never come across so many students in each class, working over time and curfew in the library, as well as in the gym. Genevieve was running her head in murky, dark waters as her environmental health-based and science-based studies took their toll.

But for me, it was story time.

The true history of the Leviathan bloodline and the house of Leviathan was a rocky one. The land of fire and smoke, as it was named. But it used to be beautiful with a different type of light. Sunlight. Green lands and kingdoms of silver and gold.

History didn't like to write about it, or it was forbidden to write about. Based on reports that weren't exactly easy to locate demonstrated the sheer fact that kingdoms of summer, winter, spring, autumn and the equilibrium—the balance of all four at the High Kingdom were against the ancient houses.

When areas weren't designated seasons, but houses of high families and bearers of wealthy bloodlines that ruled kingdoms and lands. That changed centuries ago. And the houses faded out, slipping from one trend into another that couldn't make room for houses, yet it could make room for Royals, and seasons combined.

The land of Winter. A known harsh environment with temperatures going under twenty degrees in Fahrenheit. The most common temperature for water to ice over in its natural habitat would've been scored below thirty. Alastair and his brother were born of the last Winter line, the Fawn line. The true genders of winter, snowflakes were the sharp end of ninja daggers in the first weapons of winter creations. Until they thought bigger. Chains and skyscrapers of immortal ice.

The land of Summer. An environment for the heated. Warmth and sun soaked sand, apparently the vey land is bombarded with very open and exposed buildings with very little insulation to contain as much air and wind flow as possible. The place is a sauna, made mainly of fire benders who prefer underground mines where water flow can provide service for those in need to create. They're tinkers, and lovers, apparently.

The land of Spring. The season of blooming flowers and probably the prettiest of lands. Water, air, and earth elementals tidy up nicely in this kingdom. Spring appeared more peaceful and safe than most other seasonal lands. No harshness, no sense of rush and a fluidity that was open, transparent, and welcoming.