Chapter 27

The carriage ride felt like it would never end. When we finally arrived at what must have once been a beautiful city, all I could see were ruins, just like the rest of this miserable place. The streets were crowded with beggars, their faces hollow and their clothes torn. What broke my heart the most was seeing little children, no older than five or eight, with dirty faces and sad eyes, begging for food. It made me sick to think that King Kyrell could let his people, especially small children, suffer like this. He is cruel and heartless, and I couldn’t help but think that he deserved to die for what he’s done to them.

I couldn’t bear to look out the carriage window anymore, so I turned away. It was too painful to see how much the people were suffering. The streets became so crowded that the carriage couldn’t move forward any further. Hezron ordered the driver to stop.

" We will walk from here," Hezron said as he opened the carriage door. He climbed out first, followed by his father, who yanked on the chains around my wrists. My wrists were already starting to bruise from all the pulling and yanking.

As I stepped out of the carriage, Kyrell gave the chains another tug, causing me to slip on the last step and fall hard onto the ground. The rough pavement scraped my palms, and I winced in pain.

" For heaven’s sake, woman, move your behind. We will be late," Kyrell snapped, clearly frustrated. He yanked the chains again, forcing me to get up.

The guards pushed people aside, clearing a path for us through the crowd of beggars. A little boy, probably too desperate to notice the danger, came too close to Hezron, holding out his hand and asking for something to eat. Hezron, as heartless as he is, shoved the child away without a second thought. The boy fell to the ground, and I had to fight every instinct in me not to run over to him, pick him up, and tell him that everything would be okay.

I hated Hezron. I hated Kyrell. I wanted to scratch their eyes out for what they were doing. As we walked, I silently vowed that if I ever escaped this wretched place, I would come back and do everything I could to save every innocent life.

We finally reached an arena that looked like it was built for gladiators. The massive stone structure loomed over us, and the stands were packed with people screaming and cheering with excitement. The noise was deafening, and it made my stomach turn. How could they be so eager to watch others suffer and die?

As we approached the arena, the noise grew louder, the excited screams and cheers from the crowd becoming almost unbearable. It was like the whole city had come out to watch the horrors that were about to unfold. I was sickened by their enthusiasm, the way they seemed to feed off the fear and suffering of others.

We were escorted to a private section, reserved for the noble people like king Kyrell, Hezron, and a few others who sat there with smug looks on their faces. The section was elevated, giving us a clear view of the arena below. I felt a chill run down my spine as I looked out over the massive space. The stone walls were stained with what looked like old blood, and the sand in the center was dark and dirty.

Kyrell settled into his seat, looking pleased with himself as he surveyed the arena. Hezron took the seat next to him, his eyes cold and calculating as he stared down at the arena floor. I was forced to sit between them, my wrists still chained and my heart pounding in my chest.

A loud horn blew, silencing the crowd as an announcer stepped into the center of the arena. He was a tall, thin man with a sickly smile on his face, dressed in elaborate robes that swayed as he walked. HE held up his hands, and the crowd fell into silence

“ Welcome, welcome, noble citizens of Dravonia, to this month’s Harvesting Games!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the arena, echoing off the stone walls.

“ We are honored to present to you the finest entertainment our great king, Kyrell, has to offer!”

The crowd erupted into cheers again, their bloodlust palpable in the air. My stomach twisted as the announcer continued.

“ This month, thirty-five unfortunate souls have been chosen for the Reaping, offering their lives for the glory of our beloved king and the entertainment of his loyal subject! “ He paused for dramatic effect, letting the crowd’s cheers wash over him.

My heart sank. Thirty-five people, innocent people, were going to die today, all for the twisted amusement of these monsters.

The announcer gestured grandly to a set of iron doors at the far end of the arena. “ Let the Reaping begin!” he declared.

The doors creaked open slowly, and one by one, the condemned were pushed out into the arena. They were men and woman of all ages, some barely more than children, others older with lines of wisdom and pain etched into their faces. Their clothes were old and torn, their bodies thin and weak from hunger. They looked terrified; their eyes wide with fear as they were forced to line up in the center of the arena.

The crowd watched in eager anticipation, leaning forward in their seats as if they could barely contain their excitement. I could see the terror in the eyes of the people below, the way they clung to each other, searching for any comfort they could find in their final moments.

My hands clenched into fists as I watched, my anger and horror building with every passing second. How could anyone find joy in this? How could they sit there and cheer while innocent lives were being destroyed right in front of them?

Kyrell and Hezron watched with cold, detached expressions; their eyes fixed on the spectacle below. To them, this was just another form of entertainment, a way to assert their power and control over people.

The announcer raised his hand again, signaling the start of the games. A loud horn sounded, and the ground beneath the condemned began to shake. The sand shifted and moved as if it were alive, and from the depths of the arena floor, massive, sharp spikes began to rise. The people screamed, trying to scramble away from the deadly traps, but there was nowhere to go.
Blood began to spill onto the sand as the spikes impaled those who were too slow to escape. The crowd roared in approval, their cheers filling the air as they reveled in the carnage. I felt bile rise in my throat, the sheer brutality of it all too much to bear.

One of the condemned, a young woman with long, dark hair, managed to avoid the spikes, but her relief was short-lived. From the shadows of the arena, a pack of wild, rabid beasts was released. Their eyes glowed with a feral hunger; their fangs bared as they lunged at the survivors. The woman’s scream was cut short as one of the beasts tore into her, ripping her apart with savage glee.

I couldn’t watch anymore. I turned away, trying to block out the sounds of the slaughter, but there was no escape from the horror around me. Every scream, every cry for mercy, echoed in my mind, leaving a stain on my soul that I knew would never be erased.

Kyrell leaned back in his seat, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched the bloodshed unfold. “ Ah, the Harvesting Games never disappoint,” he murmured, to himself.

Hezron chuckled darkly, nodding in agreement. “ Indeed, Father. It’s always a pleasure to see the strong prevail and the weak perish. A reminder of the natural order.”

I wanted to scream, to lash out at them, to make them feel even a fraction of the pain they were causing. But I knew I would be useless. I was chained, powerless, just another victim in this twisted kingdom.

As the last of the condemned tried to catch their breath, another loud creak echoed through the arena. My heart sank further as I watched another steel gate slowly rise from the opposite side. The crowd hushed, their excitement building as something even more horrific than the demon-like horses emerged.

It was a creature unlike anything I had ever seen. Standing on two legs, its massive body was covered in dark, leathery skin, much like the horses that had brought us here. Its eyes glowed a deep, menacing red, filled with an unnatural hunger. The creatures claws scraped against the ground as it walked, making a terrifying scratching noise that sent chills down my spine. Each step it took seemed calculated, as it were savoring the fear that radiated from the people trapped in the pit.