him, its babbling accompanied by the warmth of pleasure and satisfaction. Blaise frowned but saw no emotion in the boy’s face, not even with the help of his inhuman eyes.
“I suppose I better put an end to this,” Blaise muttered, eyeing the distance between the seats to the pit below. Water and sand mixed to create murky pools littered with discarded weapons. He turned his glare on Catsu and the slave.
The boy swayed and the sword he held dropped to the ground. The pounding rain and the warning rumbles of thunder drowned out the cries of those who remained within the Arena. A streak of blue and red light struck the rail circling the lowest tier and raced toward Blaise. He whipped his arm out, threw the human at his side away from the wall, and jumped away from the charged metal. A ball of flame and lightning swept by, blackening the marble and leaving charred, twisted hunks of molten gold in its wake.
“What sorcery is that?” the Citizen gasped.
“That wasn’t sorcery,” Blaise replied, “it’s the power of God’s Word.” He glared at the melted ruins. The divine power sang to him, and it whispered a promise of destruction.
Taking shelter behind the Emperor’s stone throne, he glanced around the edge and through the gaps in the ruined rail. The clouds spun around an eye of blue lightning and red fire. The scripture to calm the storm stuck in his throat.
He hadn’t seen such a display in so many years, and he wanted to see how it ended, yet part of him was aware of the severe consequences if he didn’t put an end to it.
A single bolt of lightning struck the other side of the arena, and the stone trembled beneath him. A pillar of light laced with gouts of flame linked the ground and sky.
The Gates to the Garden didn’t shimmer into existence. The pit was engulfed in pure, holy light, but Blaise didn’t catch more than a glimpse of His red roses before they vanished in plumes of smoke. Shrapnel erupted upward, with embers flashing brightly before falling to the ground.
Illuminated in the light of destruction, the boy staggered forward a step and fell. Catsu dropped his weapon, ducked low to lift the slave over his shoulder, and vanished into the haze which reeked of molten stone and burned flesh.
~*~
The wind and rain battered at Blaise. He longed for his coat and its hood. The storm muffled the cries of the injured and the dying. Rays of sunlight pierced through the fringe of the clouds and streamed over the pit below.
Flashes of red and blue illuminated the wet marble. Blaise gripped the ruined rail, vaulted over it, and splashed down to the ground. The sand and water sucked at his legs with each step. The edges of discarded blades beneath the muck scraped against his shins. Ignoring the sting of his cuts, he knelt beside the unconscious bronze-collared slave lying where Catsu had felled him. The white of Blaise’s gloves turned red when he touched the boy’s throat. While sluggish, he could feel a heartbeat.
“Spill not the blood of life, lest thine own blood be spilled,” Blaise Spoke, trailing his fingers over the child’s skin to the sunken remains of his left eye. The wounds closed, glowing with a faint crimson light, leaving behind crusty scabs. It would leave a scar, but he didn’t dare help the human any more.
He wouldn’t help the mortal further, even though he could restore the slave’s eye, if he really wanted to. Helping the boy who had tried to kill the golden-collared slave with Aurora’s eyes left a foul taste in his mouth.
Blaise rose to his feet, shook his head, and left the slave for the military to deal with. The girl lay not far away, her golden hair turned brown from the rain. Sand encrusted her too-thin figure. Stooping down hurt, but he ignored the pain and slid his hands beneath her back and arms. To his relief, she didn’t weigh much. A trail of blood oozed down the side of her face. He clenched his teeth and carried her to where the children crowded near
“I suppose I better put an end to this,” Blaise muttered, eyeing the distance between the seats to the pit below. Water and sand mixed to create murky pools littered with discarded weapons. He turned his glare on Catsu and the slave.
The boy swayed and the sword he held dropped to the ground. The pounding rain and the warning rumbles of thunder drowned out the cries of those who remained within the Arena. A streak of blue and red light struck the rail circling the lowest tier and raced toward Blaise. He whipped his arm out, threw the human at his side away from the wall, and jumped away from the charged metal. A ball of flame and lightning swept by, blackening the marble and leaving charred, twisted hunks of molten gold in its wake.
“What sorcery is that?” the Citizen gasped.
“That wasn’t sorcery,” Blaise replied, “it’s the power of God’s Word.” He glared at the melted ruins. The divine power sang to him, and it whispered a promise of destruction.
Taking shelter behind the Emperor’s stone throne, he glanced around the edge and through the gaps in the ruined rail. The clouds spun around an eye of blue lightning and red fire. The scripture to calm the storm stuck in his throat.
He hadn’t seen such a display in so many years, and he wanted to see how it ended, yet part of him was aware of the severe consequences if he didn’t put an end to it.
A single bolt of lightning struck the other side of the arena, and the stone trembled beneath him. A pillar of light laced with gouts of flame linked the ground and sky.
The Gates to the Garden didn’t shimmer into existence. The pit was engulfed in pure, holy light, but Blaise didn’t catch more than a glimpse of His red roses before they vanished in plumes of smoke. Shrapnel erupted upward, with embers flashing brightly before falling to the ground.
Illuminated in the light of destruction, the boy staggered forward a step and fell. Catsu dropped his weapon, ducked low to lift the slave over his shoulder, and vanished into the haze which reeked of molten stone and burned flesh.
~*~
The wind and rain battered at Blaise. He longed for his coat and its hood. The storm muffled the cries of the injured and the dying. Rays of sunlight pierced through the fringe of the clouds and streamed over the pit below.
Flashes of red and blue illuminated the wet marble. Blaise gripped the ruined rail, vaulted over it, and splashed down to the ground. The sand and water sucked at his legs with each step. The edges of discarded blades beneath the muck scraped against his shins. Ignoring the sting of his cuts, he knelt beside the unconscious bronze-collared slave lying where Catsu had felled him. The white of Blaise’s gloves turned red when he touched the boy’s throat. While sluggish, he could feel a heartbeat.
“Spill not the blood of life, lest thine own blood be spilled,” Blaise Spoke, trailing his fingers over the child’s skin to the sunken remains of his left eye. The wounds closed, glowing with a faint crimson light, leaving behind crusty scabs. It would leave a scar, but he didn’t dare help the human any more.
He wouldn’t help the mortal further, even though he could restore the slave’s eye, if he really wanted to. Helping the boy who had tried to kill the golden-collared slave with Aurora’s eyes left a foul taste in his mouth.
Blaise rose to his feet, shook his head, and left the slave for the military to deal with. The girl lay not far away, her golden hair turned brown from the rain. Sand encrusted her too-thin figure. Stooping down hurt, but he ignored the pain and slid his hands beneath her back and arms. To his relief, she didn’t weigh much. A trail of blood oozed down the side of her face. He clenched his teeth and carried her to where the children crowded near
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