Page 51 of The Omega Slave

“I wish you weren’t here,” Kamir choked out and felt the answering rumble from the chest he was pressed against. Even though he was so very glad to be with his best friend, he also wanted to spare him.

“Kamir,” Mansala said clearly. “It has been the greatest honor of my life to serve as your sentinel. But we’re not done yet.” He hesitated, then stepped back. Kamir let his arms fall to his sides. “Do you know the procedure for today?”

Kamir wished he didn’t, but thanks to the books he pored over, he knew exactly what was coming.

“The clerk of the ruling assembly will present himself here at the eleventh bell before midday. I will be escorted to the assembly chamber. We partake in the blood of the gods—”

“Thewhat?” Mansala interrupted, which he never did.

“Spiced wine. It’s symbolic only. And everyone drinks from the same cup.” Kamir smiled. “It cannot be poisoned.” Mansala huffed. “Then in front of certain approved witnesses, I am expected to change into my animal.”

“Certain witnesses?”

“All sixteen witnesses,” Kamir said. “My uncle, as my closest blood relative, will be there. Iskar and Damatrious too, I imagine. Possibly Elainore.”

Mansala frowned. “The woman that was with him yesterday?”

“She says she is from the endless desert and has powers of illusion. She thinks she can convince the assembly I can turn into my dragon in return for land to save her people. She holds sway over my uncle.”

Mansala was silent. His skepticism was clear.

“I don’t trust her,” Kamir said. “But what other choice do I have? If I don’t produce my dragon, Rajpur will fall to my uncle. If I refuse, then children die.” Kamir placed a gentle hand on Mansala’s shoulder. “You will have to leave.”

Mansala shook his head, “Highness?”

“You will have to,” Kamir repeated regretfully, then he turned to the glass and gazed at himself, but he didn’t see the fitted black breeches with the gold thread, or the polished knee-length boots crafted from the finest leather. The dazzling white shirtcovered with the deep purple jacket split at the hem to showcase his breeches. The purple sash proclaiming him the heir and the ruby and diamond-encrusted crown. The one of a kind seven-hundred-year-old statement not to the holiness of the Rajpuran royal family, as it was meant to be, but to the thousands of slaves that had worked in back-breaking conditions in the Rajpuran mines, and often lost their lives. As he looked in the glass he just saw the shame of a kingdom. He wasn’t surprised Tsaria couldn’t bring himself to love him. He was the embodiment of a class that celebrated greed and bullied all those without money. Cruelty and subjugation were normalized.

No, it was better this way. He had to work out some way of bringing forth his dragon without risking Tsaria. He would never let his uncle or cousins get his hands on him. Kamir would fight to his last breath to keep him safe.

They both looked over as the knock came at the door. Mansala slid the ceremonial sword into Kamir’s pearl-encrusted scabbard and stood back.

“I hate this,” Kamir said.

“I know,” Mansala replied, both acknowledging there was nothing they could do to change anything. Not yet anyway, and not without a dragon.

A whole unit of imperial guards fell into step beside him as they walked to the assembly chamber, Mansala at his side. Horns sounded as he arrived, and the doors were swung inward. All sixteen members of the assembly were sitting on a raised platform to the right. Gabar stood to the left, and Elainore was beside him. He didn’t dare catch her eye.

The clerk that had led the procession unfurled a long scroll and intoned the words that Kamir knew. That in front of the ruling assembly, his provenance to be the emir of all Rajpur should be demonstrated.

Kamir didn’t bother listening to most of it, simply took the proffered goblet , knowing he had to be the first to drink, and swallowed the three mouthfuls as ordained before it was passed to the assembly members and finally Gabar. His cousin Iskar lounged in the corner, but he already had a full goblet. Damatrious was handed a note by a guard and sighed in frustration, but left the room.

The clerk finished his speech, and then dismissed the servants from the room, and stood in the corner with five guards. Kamir had the right to ask a question first. He struggled for a moment to focus on the idiots, all sitting there clothed in superiority and threatening the lives of innocents, but then he stared them all down. “It may be easy to order the killing of innocents, but it is often impossible to take a blade and slice their small throats yourself. I wonder how many of you would sanction that order if it was you that was wielding the blade?”

Kamir took them all in. He counted at least ten either blank faces or superior smirks but saw the other six either beset with guilt or horror at his question. It was still a minority, though, and he blinked twice to try to focus. Their faces blurred.

He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t quite form the words. The first assembly member sprawled out on the desk in front of him, and Kamir knew that something was very wrong.

He heard the dragon rather than felt it, which was odd. There wasn’t the same feeling of utter peace that there had been when Tsaria had changed him. This time it was almost as if it was happening to someone else. The roar grew louder, the heat. He blinked and saw Elainore with her arms raised as if she was summoning his beast, and heard running steps he knew not who they belonged to. Was this the illusion? He closed his eyes and swayed. He heard one of the assembly members shouting something but he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, and he sank to the floor, and sat on something wet, Sticky.

Blood, so much blood, he didn’t know where it came from. Screams of fear instantly silenced by a snap of jaws. Blades raised, but the arms holding them were bit off by sharp teeth before they could be swung, and then there was only agony to be heard in every scream. Bodies snapped in half. Heads swallowed by powerful jaws.

He heard the large doors open, and what seemed like hundreds of panicked footsteps. His vision grew dark, but he was still aware of what was happening even if he couldn’t focus.

He shook his head. Tried to take in the unbelievable carnage in front of him. Bodies. So much blood. Screams rent the air, then cries, then whimpers. Then silence. The ground was littered with bodies, and all swam in red.

By the goddess…what have I done?

He wasn’t sure whether he closed his eyes voluntarily or not but he was so glad when he sank into nothingness. He hoped he would never wake up.

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