Part 2
### Chapter 1: Chapter 1
He was forced to fight for a prize he never even wanted to begin with, until he met her. In the land of Evanyl, there are only two classes: The rich and the poor, the upper and lower class, the posh and the peasants. There is no in between. The only ways you achieve either status is by birth or winning a brutal competition that will make the winner rich beyond his wildest dreams. The fights, however, are to the death, and the poor are forced to compete once every five years for the rich's amusement. The creator of this competition has passed, leaving his legacy to his only heir. This year's tournament will promise to have even more carnage and gore since Vyron Tamminalin is now in charge. He's more blood thirsty and vicious than his father and adds some twists to the rules of the competition.
Zakyrik has spent his whole life avoiding the gaze of the sponsors each time they come to chose a champion. This year, however, fortune frowns upon him as an accident earns him the award of being picked to compete in the tournament. Zakyrik plans on doing everything he can to escape and if that is not possible he is going to be forced to fight for a prize he never even wanted in the first place.
Complete Chapters 47
Rating 4.8 ( 23 reviews ) Age Rating 13+
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Prologue
Her purple gown with blue hues sashayed across her shins as she hastened purposefully up to my cage. Even in the light of the moon, I could see the colors cascading around her body. “I need to speak to this one. Alone. You may return to your post in five minutes, but do not let me see you peeking around the corner, eavesdropping, or else it will be the last thing you see and hear ever again!” She snapped at the guard. He stood quickly, bowed his head, and ran to the front of the cellar. She then faced me. The moonlight shining through the hole in the ceiling next to my cell showed me that her face was no longer scowling but had softened into an amused look. One I had never seen on her face before.
“I know about your cousin being kidnapped and used as leverage to make you fight to their standards. I’ll go and free her for you before her captor orders her execution just because he lost a bet. He really thought you would obey him and not use your weapon for an easy kill.” She paused to laugh, “You should have seen his face when he had to hand over ten thousand gold pieces to his betting partner. Serves him right. Well, I should hurry along. Good luck in the finale.”
Involuntarily, I reached toward her as I called out, “Wait, why are you helping me?” I couldn’t hide the suspicion in my voice. She slowly turned around, “Let me ask you a personal question, if you weren’t forced against your will to fight, would you still line up to willingly join the competition or come watch it?” Without a hint of hesitation, I answered, “No, never. I hate everything about this filthy place.” She sadly smiled, “See, just like I thought. We do have something in common.” Leaning closer to the bars, I enquired, “And what could that possibly be?” She sighed, “We were both born into a world we would have never chosen willingly, then forced to live a life we didn’t want.”
She then proceeded to my cousin’s cage, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.
The Land of Evanyl has many different characters with very unique names. Here is a pronunciation guide for a few of the main ones you will meet.
Zakyrik Ruequal - (Zak-ear-ik Roo-equal)
Axrenorian Ranswits - (Axe-rin-ore-ian Rans-wits)
Trevalo Ranswits - (Trev-aloe Rans-wits)
Vyross Tamminalin - (Vi-ross Tam-en-a-len)
Vyron Tamminalin - (Vi-ron Tam-en-a-len)
Vyren Tamminalin - (Vi-ren Tam-en-a-len)
Xori Tamminalin – (Z-or-ee Tam-en-a-len)
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### Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Sweat covered my body as I woke up. There’s that dream again, the last time I ever saw my father alive. He told me to stay strong and take care of my mother. Yeah, I did that really well, didn’t I? My mother grieved herself to death, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. That was over a decade ago, but I beat myself up over it so much that it feels like it happened yesterday.
Sighing loudly, I threw my covers off me and stood up, stretching my arms to the ceiling. Today was going to be another long, back-breaking day, I could already tell. Just then, there was a knock at the door. I threw on my shirt and went to open it, thinking it would be my cousin, but it was that pompous jerk of a landlord, Jessuvi. He was thrilled when my mother died. He thought I wouldn’t have any money to pay him and be forced to move out, but I surprised him by taking over my father’s work in the fields. I kept his rent payment in hand. That’s what he’s here for now.
“Zakyrik, good to see you. I assume you know why I’m here?” I didn’t even bother to fake a friendly greeting. I just turned around and pulled the money from my jacket pocket, which was hanging on the coat rack next to the front door. “Here. I was going to bring it by later, but thanks for saving me the trip. I’m closing the door now.” Jessuvi frowned and said, “You know, boy, that smart mouth is going to get you in trouble one day, like it did your father. Keep on, though. I will love seeing your face when you get what’s coming to you here soon.” Jessuvi then trudged down the dirt path that led out to the main road.
What did he mean by get what’s coming to me soon? He’d better not make me lose my job.
Cursing Jessuvi for putting me in a foul mood so early, I set off toward the fields. Before I made it completely out of the entryway, a blonde-headed girl came bounding up the road. It was my cousin, Zytriana. She smiled warmly and ran up to walk next to me, “You have to work today?” I nodded, “I work every day, remember?” She huffed, “But it’s not fair! I never get to see you anymore.” Her father died in one of the former tournaments, leaving a note behind asking me to please look after Zytriana if he did not make it. I don’t know why he asked me. I was supposed to look after my mother and see how well I did.
“Aren’t you supposed to be picking apples in Jessuvi’s orchard with those women next door?” Zytriana stayed between my house and the neighbor’s house. Next door are two sisters who moved in together after both of their husbands were killed in the tournament about thirty years ago. They raised her and taught her things that I had no clue how to do. I was very fortunate that they offered to help me care for her because I was barely able to look after myself, much less a child.
She shook her head, “They told me to take the day off because there were only two trees ready to be picked. Jessuvi said three women were enough to get it done. You know he doesn’t like all of us there at one time, anyway. So, now I’m bored and was hoping maybe you were off.”
I wish. Rain, shine, or snow, I’m forced to plow, pick, and pull up weeds in the fields of The Ranswits. They owned the land that stretched all the way beside the dirt lane into town. After that, everything as far as the eye could see was owned by The Tamminalins. I’d rather work for The Ranswits any day over The Tamminalins. They were a cruel, bloodthirsty family that tolerated no one they considered to be beneath them. They were cordial to those with money and treated everyone else as if they were dogs fit to be beaten. There are rumors that they kept personal slaves in the underground dungeon of Tamminalin Estate.
“I’ll tell you what, when I get home, I’ll cook. I think I still have some meat left in the cellar. I’ll roast it over the fire, and we’ll have that and some bread for supper, alright?” That seems to satisfy her, “I am going to hold you to it then! I will just go back to the neighbor’s house and finish up my quilt. I started making it yesterday. I’ve gotten really good at stitching.” Smiling, I waved goodbye to her. I am thankful yet again to the ladies next door, because there is no way I could ever have taught her to sew.
As I neared the three-level platform where we keep our equipment, I noticed men standing around, surveying those already in the fields. Next to them was none other than Jessuvi. The men’s clothes were neatly trimmed without a speck of dirt on them. They must be from town. This is the year of the competition. Every five years, we see men from the rich part come down here to the poor land and handpick who they want their champion to be. Whoever gets selected is never seen again. They bet money on us winning, and we have no choice but to compete or else our whole family dies. The rich make the rules around here. It’s like this is their world, and we are just the entertainment that lives here with them. We aren’t treated like residents, though. We are treated like prisoners.
The rich men were pointing to the workers and talking amongst themselves. Behind them, a young boy was on the top level putting the hoes and shovels into a cart to be brought down into the field. That was my cue to leave. I escaped their gaze five years ago, and I’ll hide again this time until they are gone.
I turned to walk away, but out of the corner of my eye, I watched the boy lose his footing and start to fall off the platform. It was over three stories high, and if he were to hit the bottom, he would die without a doubt in my mind. I ran forward, catching him before he touched the ground. He thoroughly thanked me, granting me the attention of the rich men above us.
Quickly, I spun around and tried to get away, but was stopped by one of the men calling out to me, “Hey, you there! What’s your name?” I turned back around to spout off a fake name, but Jessuvi beat me to it, “His name is Zakyrik, good sir. That is the one I was telling you about.” That wretched pest! I knew I wasn’t getting a shiny medal for being a hero. Jessuvi smiled menacingly, while the man pointed at me and said, “Well, Zakyrik, congratulations! You’ve been chosen to compete at the behest of Lord Tamminalin.”
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