GLADIATOR | ELYSIUM RISING 1 ✔️

⍢ | 6

Tenn seemed to vanish.

Then again, the Chryon was a huge ship. There were dozens upon dozens of nooks and crannies the old man could've been holed up in. Iggy had no idea which cell in the labyrinth of halls and rooms was his. He had no idea where to even start looking should he want to find him.

And he did want to find him.

If it wasn't for Tenn...

Iggy shuddered at the thought. A slimy, trickling chill cascaded down his bane, coiling around the base of his spine. He hadn't even made it to the arena yet and his life had already been threatened. What was going to happen when the games start? At this rate, he wouldn't even make it to the first one.

With a sigh, he raked his grime-covered fingers through his matted hair. As he yawned the last night away, sharp pinpricks flared through mouth. Wincing, he carefully pressed his swollen lip. It had gone down a bit in his sleep, but the bruising was far from gone. He couldn't see his neck, but he was certain the marks from Vonn's blade were still there.

"Jeez, kid. Can't even take one punch?" Vonn's words echoed in his ear, loud like a cannon shot disturbing the uncomfortable silence he sat in. "Even the children on Galenrad are tougher than you. You won't last a minute in that arena."

Iggy scowled. His fingernails dug into the palms of his hands as he glared at the floor. His distorted reflection in the metal of his door stared back at him. Through the corner of his eye, he swore he saw himself shake his head in disapproval. Or perhaps he had actually done so himself. He wasn't too sure.

But he was sure of one thing: Vonn was right.

There was no way he was surviving those gladiator games. He wouldn't have even survived the night had it not been for the old man.

The old man...

Memories of the short fight between the two Andradans in his cell flashed through his tired mind. Tenn might've been old, but he was a capable fighter. More than capable in fact. Not only had he managed to disarm and take down Vonn with a few simple moves, but he also intimidated them enough to flee without putting up a fight.

How was that possible?

Surely Vonn and his lackeys would've tried their luck against him. After all, it would've been a three-on-one.

Unless they knew something Iggy didn't­—which was usually the case.

Iggy blinked. Then again. An idea, small like a budding flower in the spring, sprouted in his brain. He felt it open, spreading its pedals. A small stretched across his face. There was only one way he was going to survive that arena. He would have to learn how to fight.

And he knew exactly who his teacher was going to be.

Standing up from his bed, he let the cold floor rush up his toes and jolt his stiff body. Ignoring the shoes at his bedside, he ventured toward the small window on the opposite side of the room. Nothing but black met his wide eyes. The occasional fading star blinked in the abyss of space.

He'd only seen it once before, and even then, the memory was hazy at best.

Being confined to sandy dunes and salt mines of Novr didn't give him much opportunity to experience. The heavy amounts of iron-oxide in the desert planet's atmosphere made star sightings an extremely rare occurrence. Until a few days ago, he didn't even know what the inside of a spacecraft looked like. He just hoped every ship wasn't like the Chryon. The oppressively bleak grey of the metal and stone was already starting to get old.

At least Novr had some color. Even if it all was some variation of brown and orange.

He wouldn't be stuck on this ship forever, though. The Chryon was taking them all to Elysium Prime—the crown system of the Elysian Empire and the location of Elysium itself. The galaxy's oasis. The promiseland. He'd only seen bits and pieces of it through news clippings and the few times he was able to catch glimpses of the reality television shows his next door neighbor watched religiously.