Kar-Tyr speedily galloped towards the monster, whirling his kunai in coercion. The giant monstrosity screeched and began to flay its stretched appendages at him. Kar-Tyr dodged its devastating blows, while the aftershock sprayed sand all over the fighting circle. Kar-Tyr was trying to find the beast’s weakness. He knew the rope attached to the end of his kunai wouldn’t be long enough to reach around its swollen neck. He had to find another way to take this enormous fiend down.
Kar-Tyr was biding his time. Allowing the monster to make attacks so he could catch it off guard. It lashed its
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tentacles, now crackling with electricity and the centaur barely evaded the assault. But several guards weren’t as prompt as the gladiator. A tentacle shot down from above, clamped around one guard’s torso, and lifted him off his feet. With a casual flip, the tentacle tossed him aside as if he were a rag doll.
With growing dread, Kar-Tyr watched as the airborne guard came crashing down to the ground clear on to the other side of the arena. He didn’t move.
The monster grabbed the other Thulian guard with its suction cups and with all its might it backhanded the captive’s partner across the arena.
The doomed guard saw the bioelectric energy surging through the bulk of the gigantic creature. A beast-like snarl was the last thing he heard in his life, as the monster pulled him in closer to its mouth.
The monster shocked its prisoner with an electric impulse. The guard gave one gasping cry, and slumped down limply in the creature’s tentacle, and then was eaten voraciously. Bits of flesh and chinks of the deceased’s armor flew out of its mouth while some of the bloody bits had gotten stuck between the beast’s teeth. The crowd gave an outburst of merriment, knowing anything can happen in this fight.
Kar-Tyr kept his bottom four legs steady. Then he noticed the creature’s small tentacles on its lower body. Kar-Tyr unraveled his kunai and spun it to distract the beast. The monster’s use of echolocation could see the small parasite of a life form. It gave a wrathful shriek and brandished its massive limbs in rage.
Kar-Tyr threw his kunai around the creature’s forelegs and felt the blade latched itself on the other end of the cable. The beast felt its limbs locked together and frustratingly tried to keep itself balanced. With a powerful tug, Kar-Tyr sent the monster to the ground followed by a thunderous thud.
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The crowd erupted in a roaring applause. Back in the dungeon, Sinbad was amazed by the centaur’s abilities. He wondered how such a bulky specimen like him could have performed such daring feats. What really caught Sinbad’s eye was the weapon Kar-Tyr was using. Small but practical. It probably took a lifetime to master.
The spectators were imparting the “kill” chant. Kar-Tyr moved with the supple ease of a jungle cat, his steely muscles rippling under his grey skin. He slowly approached the beast, which was flat on its back, unknotting his kunai. The monster angrily screeched as its foe pulled his weapon apart. The rope attached to the blade was straightened and it snapped all together to form a spear. The monster showed its teeth to Kar-Tyr before the gladiator shoved the blade into its mouth.
The crowd chanted Kar-Tyr’s name in celebration. Another victory for the last of the Kurwani. The beast took its last breath and succumbed to its wounds. Kar-Tyr retracted his weapon and basked in the approval of the court holding his bloodstained spear aloft. He caught a glimpse between the dungeon’s barred windows and saw Sinbad. Their eyes met and said nothing to each other. Sinbad was impressed with this creature, and thought to himself Kar-Tyr would be a powerful ally. All Kar-Tyr saw in Sinbad was another victim met at the end of his kunai.
Night had fallen; Sinbad is knelt beside Azrak as the sailor said his evening prayers. Azrak stares at his friend as he silently mediates and inaudibly beseeched to his idol.
“Does your god watch over you even here, Sinbad?” asked Azrak.
Sinbad opened his eyes and casually said, “Allah is everywhere, and in all things, my friend. He begetteth not, nor is He begotten; and there is none like unto Him”
“Is that why you pray so much during the day?”
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“Praying five times a day is considered the second most important of my religion’s five pillars, after professing that there is no god worthy of worship but Allah and that the Prophet Mohammed is Allah’s messenger,” explained Sinbad. “It reminds me about Allah throughout my day. At fixated intervals, no matter how busy you are, all of a sudden you have to take out a few minutes and you are remembering why we a really here.”
“In prison?” asked Azrak.
“No,” said Sinbad, “the true reason we are in existence, my friend.”
Azrak stared perplexed at him. “Why do you move so much when you pray?”
“Each prayer includes a series of movements, supplications, and recitations from the Quran—a sacred text for my people,” replied Sinbad. “We consider prayer to be both spiritual and physical. The various standing and bending symbolize my devotion to Allah. My entire being is involved in my prayer, and it is in service to my creator.”
“I have something I must tell you,” began Azrak, trying to find the right words. “There is a prophecy amongst my people. It is written that a stranger from a foreign land will free the Azurians.”
Sinbad broke out of his worship. What Azrak said took him unaware. Something about that last part really alarmed him.
“What—what are you saying?” Sinbad was stunned.
Azrak took Sinbad’s hand as if he was going to reading the palm.
“I believe yours is the hand that will one day slay Akhdar and reunite the Azurians and the Thulians. That’s why I took you in, and that is why you are a prisoner.” Azrak’s face was filled with remorse. His voice was breaking and he hung his head in shame. “I am sorry.”
“There is no need for an apology, Azrak,” assured Sinbad. “You saved my life and treated me as if I were a
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member of your family. For that I am eternally grateful. I fear, however, I am merely a sailor, not a savior. I am not of whom your prophecy speaks.”
The Azurian priest shivered, it was very windy and cold. He pulled his robe’s collar tighter around his neck and scanned his environment. There was a temple far off in the distance, and the holy blue man set off in its direction. He walked for a very long time, and eventually he found himself in the foothills of the mountains, a hazy mist filled the atmosphere. He trudged to the foot of the nearest slope and began the hike upward.
The moon was almost directly above, and the wind had increased in pitch by the time he found a steep, twisting trail and saw a cluster of huts a few hundred yards away. The clouds had completely covered the luminous moon and the mountainside was colder and windier. The priest was panting as he climbed to the top of a stone ridge. The rest of the mountain was covered in clouds and mist. The priest clamped his teeth together to stop their chattering, but he could not control the shivers that racked his body. Wind howled down the slope, driving gusts of dirt