It was the start of the nightly roll call, and we all awoke to the loud ringing of bells echoing across the hallway. Guards would quickly round everyone up, carefully unlocking all the doors to each cell. We would see a lot of others who hadn’t waken up being beaten to a bloody pulp, and those who tried to resist were immediately executed on the spot.

We were lined up accordingly, and soon after, headed outside to the courtyard. As soon as everyone was there, a guard would call everyone’s names. “Damian, Talis, Iferos, Reanne, Viella, and Glenn!” He’d shout, looking into the crowd in search of us.

“We’re here.” We’d all say in unison, the most organized out of all of those who had been called so far.

“Well, well. Would you look at that! You lot ‘ave gotten used to how things work here on yer’ first day!” He’d go on, rambling to the other prisoners that they should follow our example and be obedient little shits.

Thanks to that, there was now a target on our backs. I could literally feel their glares piercing the back of my head. I was used to this thanks to all the time spent in the academy, but the others? Not so much. Iferos and Glenn, the youngest in our group were anxious and quickly became paranoid. Reanne and Viella stood their ground, keeping their composure and stern faces. Damian on the other hand? Well, he was more confident than ever, even mumbling to himself that he could take on everyone here.

After the roll call was finished and the guard left, a man who appeared to be in his late twenties with scars all over his face would approach us, “It’d be best if you watched out, freshies.” He’d say, patting my shoulder before he left.

Everyone went back to their respective cells to head to sleep for the night. Qantheos and his group were laughing at us, impressed at how we had already made enemies on our first day here. Honestly, I wouldn’t even be surprised if someone tried to do anything to us tomorrow, seeing how a majority of the other prisoners here didn’t like us.

The six of us went to sleep as there wasn’t much to do aside from praying to the Gods that a rescue party would come for us.

It was the dawn of the next day, and it started off as usual, with the loud ringing of bells echoing across the hallways and a rude awakening from the guards.

After the routine roll call, we were off to the cafeteria. We grabbed trays and lined up to get our breakfast, the food here wasn’t something you’d be expecting in a prison-fortress- it looked appetizing even. We were fed a few rather large strips of meat, alongside some mashed potatoes and a glass of warm water. For us, who had been living off the leftover scraps the knights gave us during the entirety of the trip going here, it was the best.

All of a sudden, Qantheos and his group would sit with us, which wasn’t all that surprising given his wild and care-free personality. “Delicious, isn't it?” He’d exclaim, “As much as this fortress is known for its gloomy living conditions, the food is top notch!”

“I agree!” Iferos would say, innocently conversing with Qantheos. “This is the best food we’ve had in weeks!”

The two would quickly form a bond with each other, something akin to seeing two siblings together. “Oh, by the way, when will be having our duel, Qantheos?” Damian would ask while chewing his food.

“We’ll be having it around midday, I’ve already consulted a guard to officiate, and we’ll only be using wooden weapons. Any complaints?”

“None. I can’t wait to duel you, Qantheos!” He’d excitedly say with the biggest smile on his face, “I’m sure to learn many things from you!”

We all continued eating our meals, and after that, we were off to do whatever we pleased. Iferos and Glenn stuck around Damian and Qantheos, chatting and giving advice to one another, while Reanne and Viella were conversing about their lives within their noble houses.

I, on the other hand, was minding my own business until a bald man with a deranged smile on his face approached me, “Oi. What’s say you and I go at it, eh?”

“Excuse me?” I’d ask calmly so as to not aggravate him.

“Dontcha’ get what I said, eh? Let’s fucking fight, freshie.” He’d say, calling the guards to tell him about it.

The guards would drag me into the middle of the courtyard, gathering those who wanted to watch the fight between me, a so called ‘freshie’, and one of the top dogs of this place. Soon enough, almost all of the inmates gathered, including the other five from our group, and Qantheos’ group- a large crowd to spectate this fight.

The guard would release our shackles, unbinding us from the inability to use our Numen. Instinctively, I knew- that this was a fight to the death.

I’d immediately be handed a sword thrown on the ground right by my feet by one of the guards, and he’d be handed a large mace.

“This duel will be to the death, or until the other is incapacitated-“ The guard would yell, “Should you choose to spare your opponent, that is.” He’d smirk at me, a clear warning that he wouldn’t stop the fight if anything happened. The inmates roared in excitement to witness this fight, the other five from our group looked anxious; afraid that they would lose another comrade in battle.

My opponent was tall, around six foot six, and extremely muscular. Seeing him come rushing towards me was quite frightening, but I held my ground and immediately ready myself, raising my sword high and proud, just as I was taught.

He’d swing his mace sidewards, towards my liver, and I’d attempt to block it “Argh!” One swing was enough to recoil me and my sword away from him. I couldn’t afford to block any more of his attacks, it was too much for my body to handle. He wasn’t even imbuing Numen in his attacks, and it had this much force? I couldn’t afford to die. Not in this shithole.

I’d take three steps back away from him, keeping my distance and conjuring three crescent shaped blades of wind aimed towards him. He’d dodge two of them that were aimed at his neck, while the one aimed at his legs managed to do some damage to him, but not enough to stop him from closing the distance between us.

His next few attempts to bash my head in didn’t manage to hit, I would dodge and weave my way through his merciless attacks, taking whatever chance I could to slice away at his arms, chest, and thighs.

Compared to me, he was taking significant damage, and it was turning into a battle of attrition.

“Why don’t you stop fucking running like a rat and fight me like a man, you god damned freshie!” He’d scream at me, furious and agitated.

“Keep squealing like the fucking pig you are, dimwit.” I’d yell back at him.

I’d conjure whirlwinds to circle around him, but with one strike he’d dissipate the winds and conjure a large hand of flames above my head, I couldn’t do anything but block it with my own Numen. “Can’t run away now, can you freshie?” He’d say, slowly approaching me.

With my left hand raised, I conjured a wall of wind to barely block the large hand wanting to crush me. I managed to push it back just enough for me to slip away as he was inching closer towards me.

I dashed towards his right side, feinting a stab towards his chest, and immediately switching into an upward slice aimed at his face. It worked, the eyesight on his right eye being hindered from the blood splattering all across his face, “You bastard! I’ll kill you for this!” He’d yell at me, his pattern of attacks becoming more and more predictable to manage.

He’d imbue his mace with his Numen, leaving a trail of fire with each swing he’d take. I dodged most of his attacks, attempting to block the ones I couldn’t dodge. Getting hit by his weapon felt as if there were a dozen boulders hitting me all at once- I had to end this as soon as possible.

I’d rush towards him, relentlessly stabbing and slashing at him all while dodging his fiery attacks. The wounds he accumulated over the course of the fight were starting to drain him, both his posture and attacks getting sloppier as his fatigue grew. This was my chance to put an end to this fight, and I didn’t want to kill him.

I got close, rolling to his side and slashing away at his heel, forcing him to kneel and drop his weapon. “Yield! I do not wish to kill you.” I’d tell him, my sword pointed at his face.

He’d spit on the ground near my feet, “I’d rather die.”

As he knelt on the ground, I felt pity; I couldn’t bring myself to kill him. Instead, I sliced his right arm off, his dominant arm. He’d scream in pain, and the guards would immediately take him away to another building, probably the infirmary.

The prisoners would cheer, one of the top dogs of the prison being beaten by a mere freshie.

Iferos and Glenn would run up to me, “Are you hurt?!” Iferos would ask, “You were amazing, Talis!” The other would exclaim.

“I’m fine, just a couple burns from the fire and a fractured wrist, I think.” I’d tell them, Iferos and Reanne looking worried for my safety.

Qantheos and his group would approach us, “What a great fight to witness, honorable warrior!” He’d say, clapping his hands and holding his hand towards me.

“Thank you, Qantheos.” I’d say, shaking his hand while mine were still trembling from the aftereffects of attempting to block the attack from earlier.

“Seeing how skillfully and honorably fought back there, I would like to know of your name.” He’d ask me, his hand now on my shoulder.

“I am Talis, back in the academy I was known as the Storm’s Wind.” I’d say. That was a nickname I haven’t heard since graduating from the academy, and one that I got as a second year.

“Quite the fitting title for a splendid Windbearer such as yourself.”

“Oh, I am no Windbearer, sir.” I’d say, flustered that he would give such high praise of me- the highest anyone has given me.

“You’re not?” He was puzzled, “With those skills of yours, I was sure that you were one.”

“I am honored you think highly of me.”

“Be sure to watch our fight closely later, I’m sure you are to learn many things.” He’d say, as he left to go walk around with his companions.

I was pretty exhausted from the fight, and I could still feel the effects of the fight on my entire body. The crowd that was watching was gone, everyone going to their own areas and groups. We were still in the middle of the courtyard, asking things like how the fight was and how worried they were for me, while Damian was admiring the way I fought and how I used wind Numen.

We all went to an area near the main area where the prisoners were kept, there we sat, under the cover of the verdant leaves, I was Cultivating my Numen to replenish it, a method used and taught by most of the people here in Eden.

“Breathe in, breathe out.” Reanne would say, both of her hands pressing on my back. She was helping me cultivate my Numen back, ensuring that I didn’t experience a deviation.

As I was busy cultivating, a patrol of three high-ranking guards, equipped with black and gold tinted armor would pass by. “We’ll be offering up Jamie as a part of the newest batch of sacrifices to our Goddess.” One of them would say, “Whoever dies in the duel this afternoon will also be a part of the batch.”

“Did you hear that right Reanne..?” I’d pause my cultivation, “Sacrifices?! What the fuck are they talking about?!”

“W-What are they planning on doing…” She’d stop as well, visibly shocked at what she had just heard.

“We have to tell Damian and Qantheos. They absolutely cannot get injured.” The only ones who heard it were me and Reanne. Iferos, Glenn, and Damian were taking a nap under the tree on the opposite side, while Viella was too busy lost in her thoughts to have overheard it.

We quickly woke Damian up, telling him what we learned. “Shit. I just woke up and this is the first thing I hear?!” He’d say, his jaw wide open from how baffled he was. “We need to uncover more of this.”

The three of us planned to gather more information from the conversations the guards were having, we all knew it was going to be a while until we got out of here, if we could even make it out of here, and before we knew it, it was already midday. The fight was about to begin.

We woke Iferos and Glenn up and headed straight to the courtyard, where Qantheos was waiting, gripping his spear as it was embedded onto the ground.

“You’re here now. Good.” He’d say, “I am Qantheos, the Bloodied Mane and the Crimson Lion- the Ninth Sword of Hurakeen. May Thronia and Artminas bless our battle.”

Damian would be handed a greatsword, “I am Damian, oh honorable warrior, a proud Swordbearer of the 51^st Cohort of Trazia!” He’d say proudly, his sword planted on the ground.

“Let us begin, young Swordbearer.” Qantheos would say, the both of them brandishing their weapons all while circling each other, all eager to test each other’s abilities.