Page 2 of Blinding Light

“Helianth, future right hand of the Luminary, and Moargan, future leader of Helion, we a?—!”

The cheers of the crowd engulfed the rest of his words.

The two blond men bowed.

They were hungry. Programmed to enjoy violence, the Imperials were regularly offered their fun in exchange for the fair way they led the planet.

And today would be no different.

Across from them, the three remaining criminals looked terrified and exhausted. The earlier battle had demanded a lot of their strength, and they all knew this next battle would be futile.

Still, it didn’t have to end in death. Aureates were known for their different outcomes, although none of the options sounded attractive.

The Imperials licked their sharp teeth. Silver gems glittered on their incisors, making the young men look even more striking…and dangerous.

The horn blasted.

Kylix didn’t waste any time. He ran forward, letting out a battle cry as his opponent ran. There was no escape; the double doors closed,and the crowd on the first row pushed the man away whenever he tried to climb the walls. When Kylix took out his knife and swung it casually in the air, the crowd cheered him on.

He threw it in the man’s back with full force.

The crowd was deafening as the defeated man crawled, leaving a blood trail. Until his body and mind gave up.

Meanwhile, Helianth held a victim tight, whose arms were cuffed behind his back, while the other prince laughed as he attacked. When the man finally died, his facial bones were broken, a knife hanging out of his chest.

The final criminal was hunted by a spear.

“Celebrate the death! Celebrate the death!” The crowd chanted.

The man ran, panting raggedly, eyes wide with fear. Realizing there was nowhere to run.

That’s how he died in the end—the spear slashed through his back, stringing him against the wall, wide eyes filled with agony as he stared right up into the crowd.

Dead.

“Long live the Imperial family!” The crowd praised. “Long live Helion!”

1

Cyprian Creighton stared at himself while he messed with his work uniform, unable to remember what the dress code for employees was. The high collar made him look like a scarecrow. A too pale of face, hair too dark, and eyes, an odd yellow and bright.

Way too bright.

He hated his eyes. And he hated that he was nervous.

Desperation had led him here. On board a spaceship.

He had never been off-planet. Had never done anything illegal.

He brushed a hand through his raven strands, a nervous tick, then tucked them back behind his ear and sighed.

“Here, let me do it, newbie.” Bekn Zaid creased the seam in half, making the collar fall right between Cyprian’s shoulders and ears. Clever. Like him, Bekn was dressed in black cargo pants, a similar coloured button-down, and a silver tie that seemed useless, aside from its neat appearance. Unlike him, Bekn's platinum curls formed a nice contrast to the dark garment.

Patting Cyprian on the shoulder, his colleague for the daypeered at him through the mirror, his gray eyes laced in amusement. “Done. Now, let me show you the ropes before we take off. Although something tells me that you are not looking for a permanent job here, but merely for a way to travel off the planet?” Without waiting for an answer, he held open the door for Cyprian to follow. “Come on. We’ll start on the upper deck. We have some high-profile people traveling with us today.”

Cyprian followed Bekn through the hallway and up the stairs. The top floor was exclusive to royal families or other elite, and where the rest of the spaceship was finished with aluminium, the upper compartments were made of solid steel and glass. The burgundy cushions looked soft and comfortable, and on the small, transparent tables, refreshments of all sorts had already been placed.

Cyprian whistled through his teeth. “Nice.”

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