"Let the struggle begin."
That was more than a shout or cry. It was a shouting cry or rather, crying shout. The owner of the vying voice was few steps from Ja Lia who was seating by the emperor. He seemed collected and his rusty retina knew patience and gaunt gentility. The lady off what looked like an elevated porch and edged towards Ja Lai while the crowds wore the rage of the tuning atmosphere out with their shrewd shouts. Their interest and jolting joy had been seeped in the insanity of the occasion. She bowed towards the two and took her side by Ja Lia humming haughty hymns her heart had shredded.
On ocassions of fights were crowds allowed into the fort. It wasn't their thing to do. They had the specific time to arrive and to leave. None of them had the rusty reason to be beyond what he or she was supposed to be. The only thing they did and would
"Uhmm, yuhmmm" He rolled over the berth like a haughty hurricane whose mercies had been chopped by the smothering zeal of hankering hay. The thrusted nose of the former took its breath from the stretch of the clouds and poked till it bothered the eerie earth with numb nauseation. What derision was greater than that? Rolling and rolling was not enough for him as he sought solace in opening his eyes. His eyes were not as light as he thought. They were not as heavy as he thought. They were simply concocted by the mars and makes of the previous days. His heart supplanted the urge of memory and a sexual conference was held between the two. The thoughts were fresh as of the prime of the hay. They were better than that. They were like the drips of fresh blood dribbling dances through the scarred venisons to the eerie earth which opened its moistened mouth to
"Put yourselves together." What was that supposed to mean? Like seat up or buckle down? Was he trying to tell them to brace their hearts and puke fear? Or probably he wanted them to come together. But they were together at the moment. They'd clustered like some bunch of grapes strapped to the twig of a vine. They didn't have any choice to make regarding what of sort makes their master was. They could only pick their legs to the haughty rhythm his rage and chopped consciousness played to them. They were merely pawns and wouldn't fight the thoughts. Of course they wouldn't fight the realization. They loved being in it. They had no choiced exception. What exception could they had had? They had been made to believe the lie that Ja Lia was more of a spiritual being than natural. And who would want to fiddle with a spiritual monster? When lightening is outta the bottle, who on earth can imprison it? Of co
"Hey mate." Nah! He wasn't sure whether or not that was genuine. Was he really going to call him amate? Nah! He wasn't. Was he going to call him a foe? Of course he wanted to. Who calls such a person a mate. His inky instinct could discern the lie his consciousness had been supplanting. He actually didn't want to savor the taunted aroma. He couldn't had helped himself. His lips had been faster than his brain. There was no one to be held responsible for it. He couldn't even hold himself. He couldn't sanction the grits. He couldn't accuse the vying visage. He was merely a slave to all the listed. He didn't want to call Gregio in the first place but what choice had he? He knew whether early or late, he was going to have to talk to him. He knew something whether or not direct would bring them together, but he wasn't so pa
"There was something I did!" He was vexed. Why wouldn't he be? Who asked her? She was nauseating to him. He didn't want up to refleshen the thoughts few days ago had lent him. He wasn't in the mood to trail that tarred track. He was in no mood of such stance. He was quite in a remote setting. A sewn setting of his imagination. He didn't want to nurse the odds of what the annoying Nymph had said. Why would she even talk to him? Didn't she has an idea of the hibernated hatred his hoisted heart had hurled at her? He didn't know whether of not the Nymph was sane. Like her sanity was in the prime of distinction. Probably she was a clone of actions and thoughts. Or she was a mirage of realism. He had no idea what to think. She seemed not to understand the hatred he was nursing for her. The hatred wielded in the thorax of his ire. His urge to want to kill he
"Argggghhhhh..." He felt like going to meet him. He felt like the hoisted hay in hampered hurls. He felt like the pull of rage and chaff of ire. He didn't dispute those and neither did he tag them a weakness. If they were, he'd loved them to be his strength at that moment. What strength would be greater than that? What rage would be fiercer than that. What ire would be keener than that? His guesses were tampered with, if at all he'd been nursing one. Ah! But his mood had been chopped by the sight of Ja Lia that his eerie eyes were making efforts to relate to the bounty brain. He didn't know what to make of the mystic moment. He didn't know what to do at that moment. Of course lots of ideas queued at the boulevard of his consciousness. He didn't know which to attend to firstly. He had no idea which amongst them would be vexed if not attended to at the appropriate time. He didn't know how to ma
"Haven't seen you around lately." He wasn't sure what that was. Was that meant to be directed to a lady he'd recently known. He had no objection to whatever his instinct had supplanted. All that mattered was that he was about scaling through some highest peak of his life. Though he wouldn't make it so obvious to them. Why would he make it obvious to his gladiators? That would make him feel less of a master. That would make him feel less humane. Ah! Twould make him feel as though he wasn't living up to the expected standard. And he needed something strange. Something eerie. Something that'd prick the callous conscience of his subjects. His fort would be very great when he arrive there. He knew that. Despite the odds that was chanced at the arena, he was giving rewards for having capable gladiators. Ah! He was given two hundred gladiators as gifts. And they'd
"You have no idea what the shit happened yesterday." He had been talking. Like since forever. He had no reason he shouldn't. He was very annoyed. His rage could trace sanity across the bark of his consciousness. He was very vexed. His instinct had been smothered. He tried as much as possible not to make himself sad, but that was all to no avail. He tried to keep his head cool but he was but pawn to his felon feelings. He actually wasn't going to fight that feeling. He needn't fight it. He was going to keep nursing it. That was the best thing to do at that moment and he was already on it. He felt betrayed. Who wouldn't? The Nymph who had raped him, lived under his own roof, even if twas borrowed, it was none of her goddamn business?. Why would such Nymph take side with Ja Lia of all people. He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't help the urg
"Call me the mistress." That was the appropriate name he could call her. He hadn't thought of another name. He couldn't had used any other. What would he had said? His expectations were severed. He wasn't king over them. He was to make a chain of choices and that of course who make a mole outta a molehill. Probably when she arrived he'd fleshen his contention. But he knew he'd want more from her. Probably feed his pored pleasure. Or when had he become a grievous sin to suit what was made right to the sewn sense? Probably some religious codes wouldn't cowtow. But that didn't matter to him. There were more things to revere. Two days ago, he'd gotten to the fort in a haste to ascertain whether or not truly she'd locate it. Getting to the fort, he'd asked some of the gladiators who he accosted if a strange or new lady came to the fort. Or whether or not the