Tale of Four

The final members of the audience took their places in the arena, happily chatting and discussing what was so important that the normal games had to be halted. Isis stared at them, breathing shallow breaths as Augustus waited for the perfect moment. Seeing the stage clear, he looked to her and smiled. ”You will know the cue when to come out.”

Completing the final checks on himself, making sure his jewellery was correct and his appearance perfect, he stepped out with a wide jewelled smile, waving to the crowd who applauded the sight of him. Stepping on the stage, he walked over to a large shell with numerous runes carved over it, placed on a stand.

Lifting his hands, the crowd fell silent until it was quiet enough that a pin drop could be heard. Taking a deep breath, he clutched the sides of the stand and closed his eyes, basking in the moment before opening them and looking up. ”People of Danmor.” His words were made louder by the shell, spreading across the colosseum so everyone could hear, ”Order is a holy thing, one we all agree with.” Many cried out in support like they usually would during his sermons, but stopped seeing him raise a hand, ”Order is correct, but fair. We know our responsibilities, no matter our role. We know just from the unjust, our teachings have told us so.”

Taking a deep breath again, he looked around, seeing that the crowd was slowly latching onto his words, ”But the key point is responsibility. Our job is to be responsible for the divine order our Lord has entrusted, and yet, around us, it does not exist. Our great city. Our fair and just system is tarnished by being included in something so disgusting, so vile. A thing called Slaver’s Road. We are not slavers. We have never been and never will be.”

There were murmurs in the crowd, many of them in agreement from lesser’s and freemen alike. ”Slavery is brutality, disguised as order. A way for weak men and women to enact their own sick pleasures on those they bind in chains, they treat worse than rats. We are not that. We have a responsibility, all of us, to ensure fairness, due punishment, and freedom of choice.”

His gaze hardened as his hands gripped the stand. ”Our neighbour, our disgusting neighbour, is not us. We have all heard the horror that comes from Cras. The puppets they create in their tower, the dreadful humming they wish to expand across Oros, the soldiers who wear masks of oppression. This brutality. This heresy cannot be left to stand anymore. I had prayed, beseeching God to finally end it. To free those stripped of what made them human. To show him their light.” Augustus choked back a tear and lifted a finger to give himself pause. Isis watched the crowd, seeing many of them falling for his emotions.

”He tried, and they failed. He planted a tree in their city. A tree that brings colour to its grey labyrinth. A tree that lets people see sun and moonlight in its majesty. A tree that brings peace to those who must listen to the humming of the crystal. A tree in the centre of those grey walls. A miracle born to enlighten.” He paused and looked around. ”He gave them wheat, and what did they do? They chopped it down.” His gaze hardened, ”When one is ungrateful, there is only one response. The branding Iron.”

The crowd nodded in agreement, and Augustus let his words sit, knowing exactly when to talk again, ”Our lord, the ever-wise teacher, has given us a test to be this punishment. He sent a messenger. A victim of this oppression. She fled to be free of a chain and to be human. She came to me in a time of need and begged me to help her help the others. She came to us. Why? Becuase she understood we are just.” Augustus paused and licked his lips, peeking at the carriage, telling with his eyes for Isis to get ready, ”But my words can’t convince you to follow this test. She is his messenger to strike. Her story is the rallying cry, not mine.”

On cue, Isis opened the door of the carriage and stepped out, feeling the gaze of thousands latch onto her the moment she did. Many saw her for what she was presented to be. The beaten woman who fled. Looking at them, she quickly lowered her head, unable to bear being looked at with pity.

Taking a place in front of the shell, Isis looked around the silent arena, seeing every gaze on her, but in it all, she saw one man, sitting in his box, leaning on his hand, staring at her with indifference.

Her body shook. Both from fear of Justinian, but also they collective gazes of thousands. When she did, it only made the crowd worse, nearly crying out to ask her not to speak, to sit back and let them handle whatever she wanted. With a deep breath, Isis looked up at the crowd.

”My name is Isis.” Speaking, they latched onto her like they did Augustus. She may have lacked his charisma, but in its place was a shaking voice and fearful tone that made them want to protect. ”I...I...” Looking up, she met Justin’s gaze again, seeing his eyes narrow, warning her.

”I’m scared.” Stopping herself, she let her thoughts slip seeing him, and went to correct herself, but stopped. The entire thing, by accident, had the effect that Augustus could have never achieved, the crowd feeling for her in a way they could have never had if she hadn’t spoken. Isis looked around and lowered her head in shame for what she was about to do. Thinking of her journal, of all the sad stories in it, there were only two she could apply, two she knew would work.

”All I wanted was to survive. To be free, to make sure I didn’t let my mother’s sacrifice be wasted.” Remembering the pain of that time, she clenched her fists and took rapid breaths, ”All she wanted for me was to live a life that she couldn’t have. But now I’m far from home, made to do things I don’t want to.” Staring up at Justinan, her words didn’t faze the man, ”My body. The pain of being used, over and over and over and over.” Isis paused, unsure if it was right to use Teja’s story. To use her sadness as a reason for war.

’No. If they will invade Cras. It must be the story of someone from there. I can’t have pushed her back into hell for nothing.’

”I was made to please men and women.” Her lip trembled as the faces of Teja and her mother overlapped, ”For hours. When it hurt, they treated me and threw me back into bed. When I was tired, they drugged me and ordered me to continue.” Isis could see many of the crowd, crying for her, ”I didn’t want any of that. I didn’t want to become that after my mother gave me a chance at life. All I wanted... All I wanted was to explore, to have children, to have warm meals. I got a chain and a number instead.”

Her eyes twitched as she looked around, ”I just want it to end. To have that evil gone. I can’t have anything else anymore, becuase I don’t know how. All that’s left is anger.” Her clenched fist got tighter, as her nails dug into her skin, drawing a drop of blood, ”Pain. Why did I have to do those things? Do things I don’t want to?”

Isis went to speak again, but stopped feeling Augustus’ warm hand on her shoulder. Looking back, she saw his smile, looking down at him before he looked to the crowd. ”Isis.” Saying close enough just so the shell could pick it up, he softly smiled, ”The Lord sent you for a reason.” Looking to one of the many entrances of the arena, the large gate opened, and four men were dragged in, their hands and feet chained. All of them screamed to be freed, but their pleas fell on deaf ears as the crowd coldly stared, having seen the sight enough times.

Leaning down to the shell, Augustus carried on, ”I preach responsibility. I preach the truth. I preach of the poison that exists outside these walls, but it exists within them.” Augustus turned to the four men, who knelt before him, ”These criminals had power, responsibility to provide and protect. They did not. I cannot preach to cure the world of its sickness when it exists in our own walls. I ask you all, mercy or blood. Wheat or the iron for these rapists, murderers, torturers.”

The crowd erupted, already touched by Isis, for blood, for cruel and just punishments. Augustus listened and lifted his hands, ”I believe there is one voice that matters right now.” Turning to Isis, he stared at her and smiled, ”Mercy of blood.” The arena went silent, bar the cries of the four men. Looking down at them, Isis looked around, already seeing the people who cried for her to take the first step in her revenge.

Leaning towards the shell, she gulped and stared at the men. Her mouth quivered, and steeling herself, she closed her eyes, ”Blood.” Her whisper was enhanced to spread across the colosseum, and with it, a cheer erupted. Augustus smiled, and Isis opened her eyes to see the four men’s clothes cut off their bodies. Behind them, the soldiers who dragged them in pulled their swords from the scabbards and raised the blades high. In one quick slash, they swung down, chopping the men’s heads off.

Isis stared at the blood that soaked into the sand, unable to look away at what she had just ordered. ”Let this be the first punishment in our crusade to correct this world, my people. Let us spread the truth and help free those like Isis from slavery.” His words were a buzzing in her ear, as was the booming cheer that followed.

Stiffly lifting her head, she looked around at the arena that was filled with men and women crying for retribution and freedom, calling for a war they didn’t know would exist ten minutes ago. Sitting in the middle of them, on his chair, she saw Justinian finally rise and clap his hands, a sly smile on his face as he looked down at her.

Looking back down at the headless corpses, the blood that soaked the ground, she stumbled, catching herself on the stand, and couldn’t help but smile as she shook.

’This is hell.’

End of arc four- The Chronicler of Oros