The First FLAME part 7

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Upon hearing that an Ezronian would enter the competition, forty-six competitors dropped out. Apparently, the reputation of Ezron’s warriors got around.

It was still nerve-wrecking that Eon had to face twenty-three men, but Ran would choose that over seventy. She fidgeted in her seat as she worried about him and thought of his message. There was a strange fluttering sensation in her belly, but she couldn’t tell if it was caused by her nerves or Eon’s declaration.

I apologize if she arrives pregnant. 

How could he say something like that? Was he suicidal? She hoped her father didn’t come across the footage, or else Eon would die even if he made it through the competition.

She didn’t understand why he claimed her in the first place. All they did was bicker. There was an innate sexual undercurrent between them, but that couldn’t be enough to float a relationship. They would fight in the furs, fight in public. They were both too dominant; it would never work.

Ignoring the disappointment that thought gave her, she flickered through broadcasting stations. The reporters were obsessed with Eon. He was all over the screens, his speech replayed as reporters weaved together stories. One station even went as far as analysing Eon’s body to estimate his stamina. They froze his picture, measured the size of his biceps, the sharpness of his teeth. When they zoomed into his dangling assets, Ran changed the broadcast before she melted.

The kidnapped Tulisian was squirming in the back of the ship. He was loud, and although he couldn’t understand her, Ran kept telling him to relax since she had no plans of hurting him.

She went through the ship and found some non-perishable food. During training at The Academy, she had to survive off this stuff. It could keep you alive, but it wasn’t something a king would eat. She shoved the dry crackers into her mouth, wondering if Eon ate yet.

The night fell quickly. Tulis’ double moons were in the sky, and she wished they would stay there. In two days, Eon would start going head-to-head with the competitors. She didn’t want the day to come. The thought of Eon getting hurt was extremely uncomfortable.

She fell asleep on the captain’s chair after making sure the Tulisian had no chance of escaping. It wasn’t a very comfortable sleep. She was cold and stiff.

The flickering lights of the screen woke her up a few hours later. As she munched on some crackers, she flicked through the stations. There was nothing new. Only gossip, speculation, and an obsession with Eon.

“Our beloved leader, Tyleorux Debroe, blessed the city today with his presence. He came to greet the Ezronian himself. Our informants tell us that the Ezronian refused to bow to him, stating that he would only do so for his royals or a person who has gained his respect. Our humble leader forgave the slight.”

Ran shook her head. That sounded like Eon, alright. Stubborn male.

For the next two days, Ran fed tidbits to her captor and flicked through the channels endlessly. There was no mention of Ezron’s reaction to Eon’s broadcast, so it must have not reached them.

When the stations played the gladiator fights, Ran’s panic sky-rocketed. She watched with unease as the Tulisians clashed. Limbs scattered, blood sprayed, the fallen groaned. The stadiums cheered over the violence. It was sickening. Ran was no stranger to violence, but she never got this unnatural sense of enjoyment.

When Eon strolled into the arena, the stadium hushed.

He looked bored. There was no tenseness in him, no nervous flicker in his gaze, no shyness over the fact that the Universe was staring at his nakedness. He tipped his head back to stare at the drone cameras.

She could swear that he was looking right at her.

He picked up a dagger that laid beside a severed arm, and the stadium roared. He ignored them, casually walking to the center to meet his competition. The Tulisian at the other end was enormous, although he wasn’t all muscle. He sneered and lifted the sledgehammer in his hand.

Ran swallowed. A dagger and a sledgehammer weren’t fair opponents.

Eon stood and waited in the middle of the arena, confident as he stared at death. The Tulisian charged, and Eon began a causal sprint.

Ran wanted to scream at him. Why did it look like he wasn’t trying? He needed to gather more momentum and hold the dagger with a reverse grip for more powerful stabbing motions. What was he doing? He looked like an amateur. He was going to get hurt.

She stood up from her seat, ready to run to the stadium and save him.

Those gloriously thick arms of his raised. He bent, and with his fists, he pushed his body off the ground for a flip that would’ve been missed by anyone that blinked.

He landed on his feet. The stadium trembled when the huge Tulisian landed with a severed head. In two seconds flat, Eon decapitated his opponent.

The crowd exploded, and Ran sighed shakily.

Maybe he had this, after all.

Three Tulisians later, and Eon was still standing. He was sprayed with blood, but was unhurt. As he slashed his way to victory, Tulis fell in love with him. The reporters began rumors of him being Xulor’s son. That was ridiculous, since Xulor only had three daughters and two sons with Layla. Ran grew up with them all, and so she knew that Eon wasn’t their son.

When Eon reached his tenth battle, he was still standing strong. To Ran’s relief, the fights were put to an end to give him time to recover. The fights would continue the next day.

Drones flew around the arena to record the only male standing in the arena. Eon dropped his dagger. Blood was dripping everywhere, but it wasn’t his.

She wanted to hug him. Killing someone took a toll on you, so ten in a row would be exhausting to the soul.

Eon walked toward the exit just as the stations began to buzz.

“It appears like a new challenger has signed up. Usually, the officials would not allow any more to sign up for the competition at this time, but this high-profile male was too good to pass up on!”

Ran’s stomach dropped when Siox’s face appeared on the screen. In the arena, Eon watch the drones project the same image.

A video played.

“I am Lieutenant Siox of The Federation.”

Siox smirked, and his blue skin seemed to become darker. His background was a small cabin. Why wasn’t he on his warship? It was very rare for a Lieutenant to abandon their station.

“If this Ezronian could so easily declare a claim over princess Ran Ezron, then I will do the same. I will fight him to the death, and I will gather my prize. Ran, if you are watching, take this as my warning.” He leaned into the camera. “I have abandoned my post for you.” He gritted his teeth. “You will be mine. Curse your father and curse your Ezronian dog. I have gotten tired of being patient with you. I will wear you on my cock like a ring until you tear from use.”

He was insane. The weight of repeatedly being rejected by the only female in The Federation had cracked him. His obsession made him turn his back on The Federation. That was the only explanation for why he was going to these lengths.

Ran covered her mouth, disturbed by his words. She couldn’t imagine how the General felt. Siox was his son; his prince. After this bravado, he would have to disown him or risk war with Ezron.

A roar came from the speakers, startling her.

The screen showed Eon grabbing a sledgehammer and propelling it into the air. The drone that was projecting Siox’s video exploded when the hammer struck it. Bits of the drone rained down, and Tulisians in the stadium shrieked as they ran from the fiery debris.

The remaining cameras zoomed in on a panting Eon, whose biceps seemed to double.

The stations erupted with the news about the new challenge, and Ran had to rub her temples to calm her headache.