The Chronicles of Onyx: Book 1

Chapter One - Eight Years Later

Cold. Dark. Emptiness. That was the life of a gladiator. The fights in the bloody arena were just another part of the gruesome existence. Onyx crouched in her cell, her head hung low—long, black hair covering her face.

"Onyx," an Orc guard said gruffly but timidly, "The Queen has requested your presence in her throne room." Silence hung in the air for a moment. Onyx didn't stir, not making a single movement.

"ONYX!" the guard growled with frustration, hitting the iron bars with his mighty fist. The sound of beaten iron filling the still air, the muscles in his tree-trunk sized arms, bulging underneath his tan hide as he made the blow.

She lifted her head, pushing her hair out of her sight. "What does she want now?" Onyx said calmly, as though the Orc's sudden burst of anger didn't phase her. She stared into his black eyes, her own eyes glowing dimly in the darkness of the cell, like a spark in the darkness of night. The Orc avoided her gaze by ducking.

"Close them," he ordered.

"Close what?" Onyx asked despite knowing the answer.

"Your eyes," he answered irritably.

Her gaze searched him for a moment before saying, "You're scared of me. Your fear, I can smell it."

"It smells divine." She thought, briefly revealing her dark amusement.

Resultantly she got up from her crouching position, and walking up to the Orcish guard with a dominate stride. Only then putting her hands on the, cold, steel bars. "But even if I wanted to get into your ugly mind, I can't," she let go of the bars and lifted her arms, revealing the enchanted cuffs on her forearms.

With a loud sigh he answered impatiently, "Come then," With his ring of keys he unlocked the iron door with a loud click. He seemed timid around her, as though she would bite his head off at any moment.

"I could take advantage of that." She entertained the thought for a moment. "Who am I kidding? I'll be dead long before I make it out of here." She scolded herself, pushing any crazy thoughts aside.

She held her arms out, knowing he was going to restrain her as he came in with a piece of chain hanging in his hands. "Wrap it tight, you don't want me to escape, do you?" she taunted with spite lacing her voice. The click of the lock and the key had awakened something inside her. It had awakened her undying spirit.

"Don't play games with me, dog!" he spat harshly, aggravated. He wrapped the chain tightly around her wrists, causing them to redden and throb under the pressure.

"Come, the Queen is awaiting your arrival," it was clear he was aggravated, perhaps even in a haste to rid of Onyx.

"What Queen?" she sarcastically remarked. There was no answer, just a hard jerk on the chain in response. "Point well taken," she said, grinding her teeth in pain.

-ooooo-

Onyx stood in the throne room. The smell of lavender filled her nostrils, a welcome change from the scent of feces and damp humidity. The Queen sat on her throne, legs crossed, head held high. Her giant, obsidian, dragon-like wings stretched out wide, reveling her full wing span. With thin delicate chains of gold lacing her wings as well as her hands. She also wore a gold crown embedded with Rubies and Emeralds. Demeter's, blizzard white hair spilled from underneath, cascading down past her shoulders, with two long, pointed, elf ears emerging from it. Her violet eyes radiating from beneath her white mane. She appeared beautiful on the outside, but within she burned with hate and disdain for all living things.

"Onyx," she said coldly, "I have been awaiting your arrival longer than I would have liked." She waved her hand dismissively, and the Orcish guard left the room, the grand doors slamming shut behind Onyx. But by now, she was used to the ringing in her ears. It no longer bothered her as much as it did.

"Did you give poor Gollik any trouble on the way?" Demeter asked without interest, fiddling with a strand of her silky hair as though bored of Onyx's company.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize the smelly beast had a name," Onyx answered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the amount of gold and Jews the Queen always wore. "Does she ever get tired of so much—gold?"

Demeter immediately stopped fiddling with her hair, her violet eyes burning with hatred. "You said what?" she demanded.

"You heard me," was Onyx's dry, emotionless, response.

The Queen immediately shot out of her throne and began to walk towards Onyx in a threatening fashion. Her dress trailed behind her. "My Orcs are the most loyal-"

"Dogs, they are the most loyal dogs," Onyx abruptly cut her off, finishing her statement for her.

The Queen glared at Onyx, her eyes glowed with fiery hate, like purple fumes. Her wings opened and closed in frustration. "It seems you have a death wish Onyx" the Queen snapped, "Well today you will fight one of my best warriors," she smiled wickedly. "We will see just how good you are with a sword." By now, she was pacing back and forth like a stalled-up hot-blood.

"Guards!" she yelled, immediately in response two of the biggest Orcs appeared from the shadows, each one grabbing one of Onyx's arms. "Take this mutt to get ready for the arena!" she said, giving a dismissive hand motion to the both of them.

-ooooo-

As she stepped into the arena, Onyx was greeted by the coarse sand and burning sun. For countless others, it was the last comfort they'd feel before taking their last breath. The sand was stained crimson with blood from fallen gladiators, hence its name, blood sand. The sun warmed her cold cheeks. The arena wouldn't be so bad if her opponent weren't three times her weight in pure muscle alone.

"Really, an Orc again!?" she muttered. Why couldn't she face men, elves, or even a dwarf in the kingdom? No, she always found herself in the company of an Orc—those smelly, bone-eating Orcs. Nothing more, nothing less.

The seats surrounding the arena were full of rich, bored, Half-breeds who had nothing better to do than pay good, hard-to-come-by gold to watch someone or something die. A brilliant use of coin—truly.

"Do we really have to—?"

"Stop talking and fight me, you coward," the great Orc interrupted, only farther provoking Onyx's anger and irritation.

Onyx gripped the hilt of her sword tightly. Her knuckles whitening as her hand began to throb under the pressure of her own strength. She felt the heat of her anger. Her eyes locked onto his soul. Thoughts of the many ways she could defeat him on the arena sands flooded her mind. More so, thoughts of opening the door of her soul and letting her power flow throughout her veins, despite the cuffs.

"No!" She shook her head hard, trying to block out that temptation. But the allure of freedom wanted to lure her into the darkness of the raw Magik that flowed in her blood.

Her internal battle was quickly interrupted by the Queen's loud, dominant voice. "Today, we will witness my youngest gladiator, Onyx, fight my once loyal Orc," Onyx looked up to see Demeter sitting on her throne like a strutting peacock, her violet eyes locked onto the arena below. However all her energy seemed focused on one thing: Onyx. "As we all know, Rok has betrayed me," continued Demeter, "My once beloved Half-breed tried to kill me. It cuts me so deep that I gave an unwanted boy a home, food, and love just so he could repay me with treason."

Onyx gained newfound respect for the Orc Half-breed. "One of her own tried to kill her. Maybe she's weaker than I thought."

"So today is the day we, the audience, get to see if he has what it takes to kill or if he's just a dreamer?" the Queen's cruelty began to show. She glanced one last time at Onyx and then gave a quick hand motion to her other, surrounding guards.

"You may fight!" they yelled at both of them.