Prologue: Angel of Freedom
A long time ago there was massdestruction. When the old worlds collided, the white clouds we once knew rainedash upon us. I saw so many people die by another man’s hands. I never saw anyof my friends from school ever again. All we knew was that the world wasburning.
A king and the world governmentdecided that to have wars and violence stop we needed a way to contain it. Aplace where everyone belonged and saw everyone lost. A place where all thatanguish and distrust could be held. It manifested in fight rings called thecoliseums. People against people. The more I think about it the more I know itwas bound to implode on itself.
I was just ten years old when my dadtook me to these fighting rings. It was loud, and everyone pushed each other around.All the survivors were drenched in their own wounds, but it was only until Ilooked up that I finally understood the inequality. People higher up in thebuilding were in shiny silks with clear glasses full of red wine. People likeme and my dad sat below, right behind the battlefield because we weren’t richlike they were. I watched the people scrambling around trying to place bets,make money, settle debts. My dad would whisper in my ear teaching me how uglythings like this worked.
“Are you gonna do stuff like thisdaddy?” I asked.
“No.” He said to me, “Somethinglike this shouldn’t be supported, it should be set ablaze and forgotten.” Iheard him mutter through the yelling behind us. I could smell the alcohol fromthe top of the building, someone’s drink splattered on my father, and he puthis jacket over my fiery red curls and told me to keep the hood on then heleft. I watched the splattering blood on the sand just in front of me soak intothe sand.
Contestant after bloody contestantand then I saw another one of the fighters. This one was different. Just asyoung as I was but he was covered in others blood and wounds. His wings lookedlike they were sawed off. Beautiful white feathers clumped around his shoulderblades and drifted to the dusty floor.
As he tore through his opponent Icould see his amber irises. They were like fiery lanterns incased in thedarkest of obsidian. His long birdlike legs hopped and dodged nimbly. He was sofast I felt like I was seeing just spots of light. Once his opponent wasfinished a soldier came out and held out his fist. His chest heaved catchinghis breath. Then he took down the soldier as fast as lightning holding them downby the throat with his taloned feet.
He grabbed the keys and the gun offthe soldier and shot a bullet up at the ceiling. Everyone became like agraveyard. The silence ingulfed the whole building as the bang of the gunechoed through the walls.
Every breath felt like it belongedto someone in the room. “The food you eat, the wine you drink! It’s our blood,sweat, and tears.” I could see him writhing in anguish as every word he yelledleft his chest heaving for air. His back faced me. “I’m not here for yourglamour, not for winning, or money either.” He took a beat to breathe and thenhe shouted, “Start running when you hear the next blaster fire!”
The people paused, freezing intheir tracks unable to comprehend what happened.
He fired the gun again; his messywhite hair shifted when the bullet left the blaster and people shot past me in apanic, screaming and waving their arms around. I didn’t care though. The boy infront of me didn’t need the wings that were taken from him because I couldalready see the ones he earned… His wings of freedom.
