Chapter 8: Chapter 7: Carnival of Devils

The shouts of the crowd grew louder, calling for Vermon to discipline his rebellious slave and entertain them by giving him various kinds of abuse and torture after they witnessed with their own eyes Orb’s strange and reprehensible conduct.

Vermon suddenly pulled the chain attached to Orb’s collar with only one hand forcing him to drop on both knees in the middle of the blood-stained arena. It was unbearably painful for Orb to appear subdued before Vermon.

And though Orb felt anxious and despairing as being the highlight of the event, he did not accept being attacked without a proper retaliation; his vengeful nature did not let him turn the other cheek to the assailant.

Suddenly, Orb swooped down in a savage rage with his whole body on Vermon’s leg and threw him to the ground. He quickly jumped on Vermon’s chest, sat over it, and placed his bound hands over Vermon’s mouth while his teeth bit the upper part of Vermon’s arm.

The sudden attack of Orb shocked Vermon and left him in severe pain as Orb’s fangs penetrated the flesh of his arm without thinking. Moreover, Vermon was extremely embarrassed in front of the jeering crowd who immediately denounced what was happening.

In the meantime, Barloschios was laughing, amused, and amazed at what he saw. He was thankful for attending the carnival and pressuring Vermon to present his exceptional slave.

Vermon pushed Orb away from him and quickly got up on his feet while pulling the chain with even greater force. He was tremendously angry when he sent Orb flying and watched him hit the low wall of the arena.

When Orb let out a cry of pain that excited the crowd, Vermon pulled the chain toward him again with the same force and brought Orb flying and falling before him on the ground.

He lifted Orb by his lapels in the air and slapped his emaciated face with his big hand repeatedly until a thin vein of blood trickled from Orb’s mouth and tears of pain gathered in his eyes.

“Won’t you show remorse for assaulting your master?” Vermon furiously shouted.

“I —won’t!” Orb panted.

“You bastard!”

Vermon threw Orb again, only to pull the chain for the third time with all his strength. Everyone watched as Orb flew high in the air and fell at the feet of the crowd, who started kicking and hitting him brutally from all sides.

Unable to breathe or moan, Orb protected his jaw from their kicks with his bound hands. He had not recovered from the agonizing shock of hitting the wall, the slaps of his master, and then the crowd attacking him when his body was pulled upward into the air by the chain for the fourth time.

Vermon threw him from under the vicious spectators’ feet to the middle of the arena again.

“Kneel!”

Vermon shouted as the collar around Orb’s neck started to tighten, not wanting to give Orb one chance to catch his breath.

Orb, now suffocating, grabbed the chain after he fell to the ground in a desperate attempt to free his neck, but Vermon was not in the least concerned.

“I SAID KNEEL!” Vermon commanded. “I won’t repeat myself, you blind fool!” he warned.

Orb kicked the air with his bound feet, refusing viciously to submit and kneel, and at the same time, wishing that this torment would end quickly.

His face turned blue when he managed to grab the middle of Vermon’s chain and pull it with all his strength to stop him from moving and dragging him around the arena.

Vermon responded in a fleeting sympathy to his attempt. “How do you feel?” He stood before Orb smiling coldly.

Holding the chain, Orb was on his knees while his hands were trembling in pain and shock. With tears in his eyes, Orb coughed severely and that was followed by sudden vomiting that made the crowd laugh in joy. Vermon felt disgusted at first, but then, he pitied his slave.

At that moment, Orb found his hands and feet gathered under his chest as if a hidden magnet was forcing them to do so, and no matter how hard he tried to resist and spread his limbs back, they would stick together under his chest until everyone witnessed Orb kneeling in submission before Vermon, his neck heavy under the weight of the collar, unable to move.

He did it again! He controlled my body just like that, Orb felt frustrated as he recalled the time when Vermon paralyzed his body in the fountain square.

The tears gathering in Orb’s eyes were finally released, wetting the ground beneath him. Vermon forced him to kneel, using his Uthusian energy to control his body in an ostentatious display of grandeur and power.

He succeeded in humiliating and breaking Orb whose breathing was high-pitched, and his neck was not freed from the pressure of the collar until those present shouted in excitement and support for Vermon’s victory over his slave’s disobedience.

Then, Orb’s limbs were finally freed, and he fell to the ground struggling to catch his breath while his face slowly regaining color. He covered his face with his bound hands, which shivered greatly out of fatigue, pain, and defeat.

His thoughts were overwhelmingly racing, scattered, and colored with sadness, anger, and fear inside his aching head.

He made me kneel! … son of the devil! I …  I want to go home…What home...Vermon, what if... why am I thinking like this? I am tired…Will this torment end?

These dispersed, unconnected questions were interrupted as Orb was startled by Vermon deliberately dragging his ground-stretching body behind him again by the chain across the arena. It seemed that Vermon had no plans to stop and continued dragging Orb for some time.

“Vermon …” was all Orb managed to say—barely.

Vermon suddenly stopped after hearing Orb’s faint voice calling his name. He quickly turned and returned to stand before Orb, who was not looking at him.

Vermon got down on one knee and without hesitation released the chain around Orb’s neck with his eyes examining Orb’s wet and grimy face.

“Have you learned your lesson? Let me never witness your defiance again! Such is what awaits you!” he stated in earnest.

“Vermon, son of Uthus, The Glorious Knight of the Empire.”

Someone interrupted the two at that moment, Vermon turned and saw Ayege, son of Syrphadous, standing behind him. The young man spoke with an air of haughtiness, “I, Ayege, son of Syrphadous, wish to fight your slave.”

***

Vermon stood up straight facing his and Orb’s first enemy, the enemy who beat Orb on his first day in the Empire because of the latter’s attempt to sip some water from a public fountain, which Ayege claimed at the time was private property, only to assault his poor slave.

Vermon frowned as he examined Ayege’s exceptional height and his long black hair, which he tied above his head and enclosed with a small silver crown just to brag and show off his father’s position as the emperor’s supreme minister and private advisor.

However, Vermon would not allow him and others to do as they please with him and his slaves in any case, so he stood arms akimbo and simply said, “Since when did nobles have any interest in fighting others’ slaves?”

Ayege crossed his strong arms. “I thought you brought your slave to be disciplined in public and to be taught humility in the presence of his masters,” he sounded mocking.

“I believe I have told you before that it is my responsibility,” Vermon scowled.

“But what I suggested is just a game, a new game,” Ayege replied maliciously.

“It is new, but not amusing. I have a reservation about masters fighting my slaves.”

“Did you not promise to amuse us, Vermon? What? Did you back off? Do you think I’m not good enough to fight your slave? Ah! Could it be you feel sorry for him?” mocked Ayege.

“Come on, Vermon! Let them fight!”

“Come on, don’t waste time!”

“Long live son of Syrphadous!”

The excited and thrilled crowd shouted more demands and applauded precisely at the same time, very loudly in unison as if their wanting to see Ayege fighting Orb has already been decided.

Vermon did not think much about the possibility that Ayege may resort to some trick while fighting Orb. But he was extremely angry about the silence of the carnival’s attendants in the face of his interruption and the crowd’s excitement.

Indeed, everyone disregarded Orb’s condition as the physical suffering inflicted on his body from the first round was still afresh and severe. They also disregarded Vermon’s wish, the guest of honor, who felt pressured and personally insulted.

However, he could not back off at that moment. It was his first time participating in the Carnival. His image and reputation were on the line. So while his heart pounded in fury, he finally gave in to their demands.

“So be it! Ayege son of Syrphadous will fight Orb, the eleventh slave of Vermon, son of Uthus,” he exclaimed.

Vermon knelt again before Orb, and while he was unbinding his feet and hands, Orb tried to fix his blurred gaze upon Vermon’s serious features.

He was angry at Vermon’s mistreatment, loathing what he had done to him but also pleading silently to disregard everyone’s wish and get him out of that place.

“Aren’t you done torturing me, Vermon?” Orb sneered.

“I did not choose this round,” Vermon feigned indifference.

Orb’s lungs were saturated with the stench of blood, sweat, vomit and dust but after inhaling Vermon’s aromatic scent, he felt refreshed although a little sore.

Then Vermon grasped Orb’s arm to help him stand, and when Orb regained his balance, Vermon bent over to whisper in his ear, “This is your enemy who assaulted you at the fountain square in the Capital. This game has no rules. Fight with all your might.”

***

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The ground was finally cleared with only Ayege and the unarmed Orb facing each other. Feeling frustrated and wronged for not owning a weapon, Orb considered using his energy at least to defend himself.

Seeing only the silhouette of his enemy, Orb pounced toward Ayege to strike him with his right hand while trying to condense his energy in his palm.

Unfortunately, and to his dismay, he could not. He could neither sense his energy nor form it into a powerful attack as he wished.

He believed that his inability to sense his own energy and wield his power in the past two weeks was due to his contracting the plague and the constant abuse to which Vermon subjected him.

So what’s happening? Why can’t I use my energy?

Ayege dodged that attack with a derisive smile as it looked lame and primitive. underestimating Orb’s abilities, the two continued like this for a while until Orb succeeded in hitting his opponent’s hand.

Although Ayege was offended, he did not see the need to use any special weapon except his cane and did not consider channeling his Uthusian energy into it.

Thinking that he could win against Orb by taking advantage of his partial blindness and attacking him with his cane, was a bad idea.

For as soon as he waved his cane to hit Orb, the latter blocked the attack with his hand and twisted Ayege’s arm behind his back before casting the cane aside.

Ayege got angry and quickly stretched his leg, causing Orb to stumble, and before his face hit the ground, Ayege punched him in the stomach so hard that it caused him to writhe in pain for a moment before he got up again.

Orb drew Ayege’s sword from his belt at dazzling speed, leaving Ayege astounded at Orb’s boldness and serious intentions to engage him in a fierce fight.

“How dare you steal my sword, despicable slave! Give it back!” He growled.

Taking no notice of his enemy, Orb was finding it difficult to carry Ayege’s heavy and broad sword with his emaciated arms.

He was used to wielding lighter swords with one hand in close combats and unexpected confrontations in the past.

However, he very often would wield elements of nature to fight for him and protect him without the need for man-made weapons.

Orb waved the sword with both hands in the air from left to the right, trying in vain to strike his opponent.

It was getting dark, and the lamps hanging around the posts of the arena did not help him see well and distinguish what was around him.

So Orb received a blow at his exposed neck from his opponent’s cane, which he retrieved while Orb was struggling with the heavy object in his hands, and because of that blow, Orb’s arm slackened for a second, and Ayege startled him with another blow on his arms.

Ayege quickly retrieved his sword after he managed to twist Orb’s arm as he rained insults on him, and with his other hand, he struck Orb’s chest releasing magnetic energy that almost stopped his heartbeats.

Orb retreated and fell on one knee while clutching his chest with his hands, and grimacing for a moment in unbearable pain.

Feeling extreme fury, Orb extended his right arm in the air at a level roughly equal to his knee in a second attempt to condense his energy in his sweaty palm.

Ayege in these few seconds was unaware of what Orb was going to do and what abilities he had, until he saw an aura of energy gathering in his outstretched palm.

It began to spread horizontally, its density making it look like a blade of a shining sword before that glow travelled at an incredible speed in one direction toward Ayege in the form of an extremely strong and sharp air current, that hit him and spread upwards like strings climbing the sky.

This collision pushed Ayege about three meters backwards and inflicted several deep wounds on his cheek and his forehead.

When the attack stopped, the crowd saw Orb standing up still with his palm outstretched, and his wheezing getting louder and louder by the second while the horrified Ayege was on one knee.

The crowd at the carnival was as silent as the grave, unable to react out of shock and indignation. They condemned the rebellious slave for the offensive energy he possessed.

He was supposed to show no resistance, to hold no strength in his possession, and to surrender to punishment and torture without objection and complaint.

Vermon on the other hand, who watched Orb from the beginning, could not help showing off his playful grin. He placed his hand on his injured arm, which was bitten by Orb earlier, as it began to heal.

“That man never ceases to amaze me!” he audibly admitted to himself while keeping his eyes on his slave.

Ayege’s anger, in contrast, was unbearable, and he suddenly hit the ground with his palm, creating a deep hole in which he wanted to bury Orb.

Dirt flew in huge quantities from that hole and scattered on those present around the arena, who did not dare to complain but quickly shielded themselves from the dust storm by emitting barriers from their own Uthusian energy for some time until it subsided.

Orb started a coughing fit after being suffocated by the dust storm and was startled when Ayege grabbed him by his hair, dragged him over to the hole, and threw him there.

Keeping Orb relatively restrained, Ayege grabbed the nape of his neck with force while channeling some of his Uthusian energy to burn his skin until some of Orb’s hair on his neck melted.

Orb heaved in pain and then muffled a cry of agony lest he delights his opponents and ignites their excitement. As the smell of burning hair and human skin spread out, it thrilled the crowd and made them cheer in ecstasy and excitement.

Orb was trembling in obvious pain and suffering and tried in vain to shake his head and raise his hands to the place where his neck was burned, but after releasing his earlier air attack, he felt extremely exhausted.

Yet, Vermon suddenly appeared in the arena and at last put an end to that as he caught hold of Ayege’s arms.

“That’s enough—I don’t want you to mutilate him!” he firmly warned.

Ayege tried to resist Vermon, “Don’t interfere, Vermon,” he yelled, “The game is not over!”

However, Vermon pushed him aside, shouting in fearful anger, “I have the right to end the game if it is causing damages to my property!”

Surprisingly, Tarsus, who watched the game from the start, teleported himself from the first row of the slave owners to the center of the arena at that moment.

He stood between the two young men, with his palms almost touching their chests, to stop the two from a possible fight.

“Let us not fight each other over slaves, O great lords of Arkosia,” everyone heard his deep voice reproaching.

Tarsus was one of the imperial philosophers. Even though he never completed his education and lacked the refinement of his friend Barloschios, he was close to the emperor.

So even though it was very exciting to watch two nobles fighting each other, when Tarsus stood in the blood-stained arena to stop them, no one objected to his intervention.

Ayege and Vermon silently retreated. Grimacing and dissatisfied by Orb’s torture, Ayege left the arena with his fist raised in the air as a sign of victory, amid the excited cheers of the crowd and their loud clapping.

Then, Tarsus spoke. “Ayege, son of Syrphadous, has won the game,” he then, pointed at Orb. “Noble lords of Arkosia, forget not the defeat and humiliation of a rebellious slave today at the hands of the sons of Uthus.”

***

The cheers of the crowd rose again, and the carnival attendants brought Orb out of the hole under Vermon’s anxious gaze, which he struggled to hide.

Orb’s bare feet, after losing his shoes in his encounter with Vermon in the first round, could hardly lift him. Thus, when he was taken back to the shed, he was left standing with trembling limbs.

The slaves made way for him, but none volunteered to help him sit down. When he sat down on his own, at last, he tried to calm his racy thoughts and trembling body.

His emaciated shoulders were arched owing to weariness and exhaustion. Orb’s weariness of spirit overshadowed the fatigue he felt in his last encounter with Ayege and Vermon before him.

A moment has passed. Orb leaned his head back against the wall and felt that the place grew empty of slaves. It seemed that the attendants had thrown them into the front arena to be victims of the pleasure of their masters in a new cruel game.

He closed his heavy eyelids and thought that the sound of the brutal cheers was far away and that the screams of the victims were even farther.

Pale and thirsty, Orb wanted to cry but did not have the strength to do it. He had dozed off at that moment.

***

Thank you, dear friends, for reading this chapter

NOTES

The illustration of Orb is done by https://www.instagram.com/seo8dora/

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