His chest glistened with water droplets dribbling down the glowing bronze skin. Resting, his strong muscular back against the rocks on the lake side, head lulled backwards, onyx eyes closed in utter salvation.
"Your spying on me is utterly useless y...
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Heavens were weeping as cerulean sky withered and crumbled like golden dust under the weight of war that had been going on since half a decade.
Vermilion blood with it's quintessence not much thicker than water flowed like rivers as soldiers massacred one another washing their tainted hands in the sacred pools of water turning them red, dead bodies floating like fallen maple leaves of autumn in lagoons.
The nature endured most painful scars but the battle of lands didn't ceased between Garein and Ambrose empires.
Slaves and war prisoners captured were bought in the chief houses of ministers and rich merchants as bonded labours and among them was a slave....Azarios, brought in the king's manor for polishing shoes and cleaning floors and above all for entertainment.
For becoming a Gladiator. They were fighters who fought in duals at the magnanimous pits of death infront of the nobles until one of them was killed and other left the grounds, victorious, only to be called again for fighting with different fighter next time.
It wasn't a game...it was survival for the last man standing.
It was a place where humans were butchered for laughs and fun and solace sacrificed for jingling of coins collected to see the fight. But war bought new rules...no warrior would fight for entertainment, only for nation.
A nation Azarios knew nothing of.
A nation which made him clean boots of destroyers and offenders.
Instead he cleaned the names of the people challenging his power and authority from the Dynasty forever and ever.
His parents had begged the guards not to take him away but the tax had to be paid and the bait was him, a boy of twelve seasons filled with nothing but starvation and memories of violence.
He had learned how to keep his mouth sealed and eyes wide open, his mind working with the speed of lightning as he climbed up the ranks excruciating slow so not to come under the direct gaze of the King...yet.
He recalled being taught kindness by his mother and valour by his father both values he concentrated so deep in his core with time that not an ounce of it seeped through his barricade armor of a commander general.
A small, previously unimportant part of history changed the history itself, writing it with the blank ink of the coal of his own shackles he became the beast of Ambrose.
But it wasn't enough.
Until revenge was served on a gold leaf....it would never be enough.
Although he was burning with the ice cold hatred for the nobles in the court of King Alexander, they had a completely different overview of him.
He was the most potential suitor for the marriage with the graceful and most enchanting maidens of Ambrose yet he wasn't interested.
It wasn't that they were not beautiful but Azarios didn't carved beauty, neither it was that they were obnoxious and high headed brats who didn't knew a single art, many of the women were elegant, kind and masters of different talents but his heart yearned for none.
