The underground cell is damp with moisture and the air is stale. It had the smothering smell of festering wounds and unwashed bodies.
I'm trying to find Harry, but it seems we've been separated completely. When they unchained him, I had been shuffled a good distance forwards.
The walls and floor are made out of the same stone and seamlessly meld into one another.
I've never seen such great craftsmanship.
But it's so perfectly symmetrical I can no longer remember which way I had come in from.
A disheveled man sits opposite of me on his cot. His hair is gray and clothes strange. He seems more jester than warrior.
His eyes are sad as he looks at me. His voice the same. It's lower pitch then I would've suspected do to his wiry frame.
"It's always terrible to see such a young boy die in this place."
My temper has always been quick to activate, even when I know there's no use in being angry.
"I'm fourteen you old crow, I'll be a man in a year. I'm not a boy."
His sadness is replaced by exhaustion as he waves his hand at me.
"Sure kid. Whatever you say."
I'm suddenly clenching the bars as I bare my teeth at him.
He isn't the slightest bit concerned as he lays down and puts a cloth over his eyes.
The flickering torchlight is constantly illuminating our surroundings, it's dancing shadows make it hard to focus my eyes.
I quell my rage as I stare at my palms. When I squeezed the bars to me cell, slight impressions of my fingers had been left behind.
'I've had this strange surge of power flooding me when I get mad ever since I killed that man. My temper is also getting worse.'
I shake my head clear and dismiss my concerns.
'It's not like it matters anymore, I'm quite certain I'll die here. We're all going to die and just be forgotten as casual entertainment.'
I lay on the dirty cot in my cage, it's previous owner had suffered a fairly bad wound. Dried brown splotches coated the ground under it in a thick crust.
My thoughts drift as I try to block out the groaning of dying men and fall asleep.
I'm awoken by heavy foot steps and slurping. Getting up, I press my face to the bars and try to get a glimpse at the commotion.
The man opposite of me chuckles and explains what was happening.
"Meal time boy-o. I'd stand back if I were you, they don't like eager appetites here."
His easy demeanor in this horrible place grates on my nerves and I defiantly stood where I was.
His warning seemed to be honest advice as the guard handing out rations came into view.
He took one look at me and crumbled the bread in his hand and tossed it through the bars, onto the floor. His other hand held a bowl of porridge, this was thrown at my face.
Unexpectedly my anger didn't flare, instead I was filled with a feeling of dread. The big meal on the boat earlier hadn't satiated my appetite, only stoked it.
I can feel myself falling to my knees as I despondently pick the bread bits off the floor and place them in mouth. I look to my left when I hear something else being tossed into my cage.
A water skin was leaking and I hurriedly scooped it up, my thirst making me abandon shame.
I tried to scoop the porridge off my face and clothes and into mouth. Tears fall as helplessness sets in.
'I should just smack my head on this wall and be done with it. What's the point in struggling if I'm going to live like this..'
I do not have the courage.
I have debeated and tried to reason to myself into suicide, but I can't bring myself to do it. I've never felt like such a coward, I can take someone else's life but not my own.
Crawling into my cot, I kept sobbing until sleep once again stole over me.
I feel myself naturally rising and I'm alone with my thoughts until I hear footfalls down the hallway.
A voice I don't recognize calls out and waits a few moments to gather everyone's attention.
"Attention new arrivals.... We have a special offer for today only. This is a great chance to make a name for yourself and start earning your freedom. Anyone who wishes to volunteer can earn a full two gold towards their freedom. Normally, you can't earn money until the third match. We are being very generous today… so, whose willing?"
I can hear my own voice call back.
"I'll do it."
He walks over to my cell and I see a blonde man with an impressive mustache staring at me.
"Are you the one who agreed?"
'It's better to die quickly, there's no point in waiting for death.'
Before I can talk myself into backing out, my lips are moving.
"Yes."
He raise an eyebrow at me, probably due to my willingness to fight so suddenly.
"Name?"
"Kelrin. Kelrin Bladebane."
His eyes narrow perceptively and I wonder what he's thinking before my thoughts are interrupted.
"Very well…" he turns and addresses the other slaves, "I'm in need of one more volunteer, if no one speaks up, then I'll just have to choose myself."
Nobody did and he kept his word as he walked to the cell next to mine.
"What's your name."
"M-master please spare me!"
"Tell me your name, I won't ask again."
I hear William Kith begging and sobbing against his fate.
"Master.. I have something that would be e-even better. Please spare me and I'll tell you who would be a better match for him.."
"Speak."
Whispered words are shared and I hear the blonde man laugh.
"Very well, this will surely be interesting."
The blonde man comes back into view and opens the cell door.
"Follow me, your first match begins in an hour."
I solemnly walk forward, ready to accept my death with open arms.