Page 294 of The War God’s Favorite

She wasn’t losing sight of the main enemy. Cassandra knew she couldn’t match up to Vrehan in a fight, but she ought not to lose him for a second time either. She had to find a way to end this.

The Second Prince didn’t look willing to fight yet. He didn’t have a weapon, and his face still bore the horrible scar of the injury she had inflicted upon him earlier. However, his dark eyes were absolutely burning with rage at her, and the deathly aura around him wasn’t good either. Vrehan wasn’t even bothering to look at how the dragons’ fight was going. The gigantic creatures were making a deafening ruckus, yet he wouldn’t even glance their way. He was focused on one thing.

He stepped forward, making Cassandra shiver uncontrollably. She had gone out of the dragons’ reach, but she was only a few steps away from the enemy, and perhaps she would have wanted to fight the dragons more.

“You... Everything went off-track because of you,” he hissed. “If you hadn’t pushed those ideas into him. If you hadn’t bore his bastard.”

Cassandra glared at him, as she tried to get back on her feet. Her leg was horribly painful, and all of her body was sore, but hearing him insult Kassian gave her a new wave of courage. As he came closer, she grabbed some of the dust around her and threw it at him.

“Ah! You bitch!” he shouted, rubbing his eyes and stumbling back.

Cassandra took those precious seconds she had won to get back on her feet and hurry in a different direction, heading towards the cells of the Arena. She didn’t even have enough strength left to run. There weren’t many doors open in the Arena, but she had remembered enough from her short stay in the Arena cells to remember which to take.

She couldn’t fight Vrehan on her own, but she could buy some time if she could at least find a decent weapon. She remembered the shows at the Arena, specifically the warrior fights. Though their participation may not have been voluntary, their choice of weapon was - they had to have been able to pick them from somewhere around here. Maybe some could have been left inside the cells.

Trying to forget the impending death chasing after her, Cassandra rushed to the cells. She knew Vrehan would kill her, slowly and painfully too. Kairen wasn’t here to stop him, no one was. Her only ally nearby was a dragon that was already fighting two other horrid creatures. Cassandra knew she had to fend for herself, she’d have to save herself.

As soon as she reached a cell, her memories brutally resurfaced, like a nightmare haunting her. She remembered being dragged there like all the other slaves, thrown on the filthy grounds of the cages with no water, and no hope of survival. She could feel the weight of the chains on her limbs and neck, like a phantom... She took a deep breath and pushed the fear aside.

They were just empty cells now. Cassandra had to squint to find her way inside and around. Prisoners destined to die had no use for light, so there was only the bare minimum here. A few rays were barely able to make it through the miniscule openings between the stones that composed the grounds of the Arena. She tried to remember where to go, but every cell in there seemed like it was the same, only the contents changing.

Putrid smells hit her as she hurried between them. It was like something left there was rotten and decaying, adding on to the long forgotten excrement. She felt like throwing up; it was the absolute worst. Everything was filthy, but she had no choice other than to hold on to the bars to keep herself going without falling. Vrehan was still following her, closing the distance between them. She could hear his footsteps, making her heartbeat accelerate. Cassandra couldn’t fathom dying in here, it was a horrible place to die.

“I swear, when I get my hands on you, I’ll tear you limb from limb, and hang you from the Palace’s gates for all to see! The White Witch of the Mountain will be no more!”

The way he spoke her nickname with such hatred left a bitter taste in her mouth. But Cassandra was trying not to listen to him, she was hellbent on finding a way out of there. Anything to survive this hell. Where were those weapons? She could clearly remember people waiting to fight, receiving their chosen weapons from the jailers. While they were trained fighters and not slaves, they were insistent that they use these sanctioned weapons - something about the Arena and security. But it was all a lie, Cassandra knew. She had overheard the jailers laughing about it. Discussing how the improperly sharpened and dull blades would make the fights last longer and be more bloody. It was horrible that they couldn’t even be granted a swift death.

Cassandra didn’t necessarily need a properly sharpened weapon though, she didn’t have the skills to fight an Imperial Prince. She just needed something that would, at the very least, allow her to defend herself. Anything at all.

“You’re so pathetic... You can’t even do anything without a man to protect you. You’re nothing without him, just a slave. You should have died quietly like the rest of your filthy people!”

Vrehan’s words were echoing along the halls, like a shadow threatening to devour her at any moment. His voice was bouncing off every wall, Cassandra couldn’t tell where he was or how far behind. She didn’t want to even think about it. Fear would only slow her down, but hope made her faster.

Finally, she spotted it - a pile of weapons randomly thrown against a wall. Cassandra ran towards it and started rummaging through. She even cut herself a couple of times in her frantic search, but she needed to find one she could handle. Many of them were too heavy for her to wield, and she really couldn’t afford another disadvantage while fighting off the Prince. As she heard his footsteps closing in, she settled on a small sword. It was a different shape than the one a man would normally use, being thinner and lighter than the others, but she had no time to find another weapon.

While Cassandra pretended to look through the pile of weapons, she was really paying close attention to the sound of his steps. He was getting closer, and she was going to be ready for him. Her only chance would be if she could take him by surprise. She tried to calm herself and focus, she couldn’t afford to panic now. She couldn’t die like this, not here, not now.

“You damn witch, I...”

As he was almost upon her, and she was ready. Cassandra dodged to the side, and in the same movement, swung her weapon towards him. The Prince let out an agonizing scream as she saw something fly away. She had no idea what it was until she noticed Vrehan’s hand covered in blood, missing some fingers.

“You... Bitch!” he uttered between his teeth.

She had managed to injure him just enough that he lost focus for a few seconds. Cassandra retreated until her back hit a row of bars. She had hit another cell, and for a second, despite the screaming, she heard something else. She turned her head, and sure enough, there was something there. Something big that was breathing very slowly. What she had taken as some airflow through the long corridors before was actually from something breathing. A dragon’s breathing. She felt a drop of sweat run down her spine. More of Vrehan’s monstrosities? Or...?

“Sire?” she called out.

She could barely recognize the magnificent creature as it moved forward from the shadows. It had lost so much weight! The Blue Dragon opened its eyes to look at her and she could tell there was so much sadness in them. So this was where the dragon had been. How did Vrehan even get the First Prince’s dragon in there? This cell looked so cruelly small for the large beast!

Cassandra extended her arm to try and reach it. Its scales were barely warm under her touch. The dragon looked like it had given up on life, just like Glahad before. They were bound to a life of despair once their Masters were gone.

She had no time to console the blue dragon, though. Vrehan might have lost a few fingers, but the red scales had appeared just as quickly on his skin to seal the injury, and his madness only intensified after that. His face was so deformed by his rage and injuries, he looked more akin to those horrible creations outside, barely human anymore. Seeing him approach, Cassandra tried to move to the other side of the bars, holding on to them to keep herself from falling. She heard Sire growl behind her, as it recognized her assailant too. With its anger rising, the blue dragon had a surge of adrenaline at seeing the Second Prince. Cassandra continued retreating until her shoulder hit a wall, cornered now between it and Sire’s cell. She bit her lip, desperate.

“Finally!” the mad man hissed. “Here we are… A perfect place for you to die. In a filthy cell... It suits you, slave!”

They each raised their swords and Cassandra’s was abruptly knocked from her hands in one swift movement. Just as she heard the metal clink on the stone floor, she crouched down as his blade violently dug into the wall right above her ear. She was completely cornered and weaponless now, holding her arms up to shield herself even though she couldn’t possibly endure another assault. Her resistance was futile.

“You... You’re finally going to die, you b...!”

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