Chapter 18. Dead Meat

CYRUS

I slump into a sitting position on a pavement nearby while Assar continuously squabbles with the weapons until he emerges with a big axe, which he offers to me with a wide grin. I don’t know which is more annoying, his guts or lackadaisical attitude towards life and dire situations.

“It’s not that bad, Cyrus. It’s just a routine fight; no one is killing anyone,” he claims. I shake my head, allowing my face to adopt a frown.

“Do these weapons look like a joke to you? It would be foolish to believe your words again,” I growl.

“Relax, Cyrus. It is a big ceremony; just put up a good show for the spectators, that’s all.” His utterance is like ice, seemingly quenching the flames of doubt and fury in my insides. I nod, courage suddenly building up within me. What if this is my last opportunity to make a loud statement in this life?

“Fine, let’s do this,” I blurt out foolishly, grabbing the axe from Assar. However, when its weight nearly pulls me down, I