Magi Games

Battle Task 7: My Entry

Chains bit at Jeythr's raw and bleeding wrists. His ribs throbbed with pain and every breath he took sent agony shooting through him like lightning. Blood oozed down his left side as he looked up at the night sky. Through the smoky haze, which had formed a gray hue over the devasted world around them, he could barely make out silver stars twinkling overhead. By the time he blinked, they were gone, blocked out by massive Dragon Empire ships shaped like metal dragons.

Behind him, a real dragon shuffled around, a low growl emitting from its throat. Jeythr winced at the sound, but forced his eyes to stare straight ahead of him. He was chained to a post with his arms behind his back on a dais with seven other Magi on either side of him. Hanging above them were flags that had been sold for fun and support during the Magi Games, each one bearing their guild symbols.

In front of the dias was a massive crowd. At least, at first glance, it appeared massive. If he had to guess, he would say that two-hundred or less people were squeezed into the square. Once, it had been a marketplace filled with joy, laughter, dances, music, activities, and fun. Now, each one of the faces in the crowd were etched with sorrow, hopelessness, and grief. Those few hundred were all that remained from a world that had been inhabited by millions just a day ago.

Far to the right of the dais stood the marble steps leading into the Kypha Palace. Most of the building lie in ruins - stones scattered on the stairs and in the streets, most of the pillars were blackened from fire, and smoke still billowed out the front. The stairs were currently inhabited by the High General of the Dragon Empire Army. Hundreds of his soldiers spread out all around the palace, holding the crowd in place, patrolling the city, guarding the captured Magi, and perched on nearby rooftops.

The Magi on far the right of the dais hung her head as an Imperial soldier with dragon scales on for skin lifted a torch and began to burn the flag of the guild Knight's Watch. Sobs wracked her body and she would have collapsed if not for the chains holding her. The next was an black animaloid jaguar named Shiazmu from Silent Phoenix and chained near his shoulder was Alex, so small he was almost invisible. As the flames finished with Knight's Watch's flag, the same soldier lit the bottom of Silent Phoenix's flag. Shiazmu closed his eyes and turned his head as if he couldn't bare to watch.

Guild Valkyrie was next. A man Jeythr thought was named Eskander and a young boy he didn't recognize both stoically faced the crowd as Guild Valkyrie's flag was burned. A young woman from Crimson Shadow was next, but she was already sobbing loudly, tears falling from her eyes like waterfalls. When the flames ate away at Crimson Shadow's flag, she screamed.

Zenna, directly on Jeythr's right met his gaze. For once, her gaze was neither harsh nor narrowed. Her eyes were pained, as pained as he felt inside, like there was a hole that would only continue to grow and fester. The soldier smirked as he held the torch up. Immediately, the face of the black dragon that made up their guild symbol disappeared, replaced by orange and red fire.

The thought of dragons made Jeythr's stomach twist. What once had been a symbol of his guild, of bravery and sacrifice now only brought him agony. It reminded him of the Dragon Empire, of these bastards who had slaughtered countless lives.

"Let this be a warning to all you former citizens of the Republic!" the High General started. "Your Republic has fallen and the Magi are no more. You were either comply under the new regime of the Dragon Empire or... You will die!" With a gesture of his hand, the dragon behind the stage roared mightily, a sound like thunder that made Jeythr's ears ring.

As he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widened as he stared at the beast in horror. Orange and red flames licked the inside of its mouth as it opened its jaws wide and aimed it at the woman from Knight's Watch. Fire exploded from the dragon and lit her aflame. Her shrieks tore through the silent city, peircing the night sky as she was burned alive.