Gatekeepers Book 1: Darkness

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, people of all races! It is to my great pleasure that I can announce that this year’s Prisoners’ Games is finally about to begin!”

Draycos sighed as he listened to the announcer hyping up the crowd into a cheering frenzy. “This situation is so messed up,” he sighed as he sat on a cot in the small room he was in.

It was around nine in the morning or so, and the fresh morning air was already filled with the cheers of the audience that filled the stands of the gigantic circular stone coliseum that had been erected on the largest floating island Draycos had seen yet. The excitement in the air made the whole situation feel more like a festival then a bloody fight between convicts. Draycos felt like he was a gladiator about to go out and fight lions or something at the Roman Coliseum. He had to wonder how so many people found an event like this so entertaining that it was blown up to this scale of festiveness.

Draycos had been brought to this room about an hour ago by Vertex. It was a simple stone block room that was completely bare except for the door Draycos had come through, a cot, and an iron-barred gate taking up one wall. Early morning sunlight rained in between the bars as it led out into the fighting arena.

In addition to his normal attire since arriving in this world, he now wore a black hooded mantle that almost touched the ground. It was clasped together at the bottom of his neck with a silver button emblazoned with the image of a dragon head with its mouth wide open in mid-roar. His pendant from Iris hung out from underneath the mantle.

“What is this?” Draycos had asked after Vertex handed it to him before he had left.

Vertex looked over his shoulder down at Draycos, narrowing his eyes somewhat. “It’s a gift from the king,” he had responded. “It’s a cloak meant to help protect you from dragonfire. You won’t be able to withstand any dragons you fight without it, so he worked on the Dragon Council for a full week to convince them to allow this.” He then pointed at the silver button with his right index talon. “That image is the crest of the Stormfang family. Wearing that will show everyone that you have the Dragon King’s support.” Vertex turned around and exited the room. “Don’t you dare fail the king if you put that cloak on,” he warned Draycos as he closed the door.

Draycos sighed as he gripped the edge of the mantle, busy psyching himself up before the fights began as the announcer went on.

“This year, we have a slew of new and old participants in these bloody games! In addition to the two-time runner up dragon Balara, we also have a prisoner who’s convicted of stealing the Orb of the First King! Who’s excited to see what these two are capable of during the games? I know I am!”

Draycos slapped his forehead as the crowd cheered even louder when the announcer brought him up. What the hell is wrong with these people?

“Now then, let’s get the ball rolling! We have one hundred and twenty-eight prisoners that passed the assessment exam and made it to the games this year! That means we’ll have seven rounds of one-on-one fights, so there will be plenty of time to watch the carnage in the arena! Let’s begin with deciding the first match for the day!

There’s something wrong with that MC. Is he a frickin’ devil or something? Draycos stood up from the cot and walked over the iron gate. The arena was set on the ground and was separated from the elevated stands by a large wall. Standing just behind the wall at even intervals were humanoid dragons completely garbed in purple robes with gold trimming. They were quite small, only about two or two and a half times Draycos’s height. Every single one of them had both hands outstretched before them. In front of their hands, sitting on the top of the wall separating the stands and the arena, was a translucent, pale pink wall that surrounded the entire arena and stretched up into the air until it was out of sight.

That must be the barrier Poseidon had talked about last night. Draycos looked around the perimeter of the arena, which was lined with dozens upon dozens of iron gates just like the one Draycos was looking out. A large red stone was placed in the stone wall above each gate glittered in the sunlight. He could see the figures of other prisoners also peeking out of their rooms as everyone in the colosseum looked up at the sky.

Hanging in the air above the center of the arena were two pale white orbs that slowly rotated around each other.

“Let me remind you that these matches are completely decided at random!” the MC continued. “Now then, let’s see who’ll be fighting in the first round of this year’s Prisoners’ Games! Is everyone ready?!”

The coliseum shook from the force of the spectators’ cheers as the two floating orbs grew in brightness. All the red stones above the gates began shining as well. The crowd went silent as two red beams shot out of two stones from different parts of the arena and hit the glowing white orbs. The orbs showed an image of static for a moment before it disappeared, showing the image and stats of two prisoners, as well as their list of crimes.

“Here are the prisoners that will be giving us our first fight! What a shocker we have! In the very first fight we have the thief who stole the dragons’ most revered artifact, the human half-breed, Draycos! His opponent, an orc with a bad attitude and a crime list to prove it, is the musclebound Brock!”

You have got to be kidding me! Draycos stood there, frozen in shock as the red beam of light shooting out of the red stone above his gate faded. Chains were heard clanking as the gate slowly ascended and opened. I’m in the first round and fighting Brock?! To hell with all of this being decided at random! This is too damn big of a coincidence for me to believe this happened by sheer chance!

Draycos sighed and shook his head to clear his thoughts as the gate finally opened completely. A strong breeze blew through the arena, flapping his mantle as he walked out of the shadows of the room and out under the strong sunlight, shielding his eyes with a hand. Another gate far to Draycos’s left had opened, and Brock was walking out of it. They exchanged a quick glance with one another before Brock smiled savagely and continued to make his way to the center of the arena.

Draycos followed suit, looking up at Brock’s stats as he walked. Brock’s attack was three, defense was three, speed was two, magic was three, and endurance was also three, for a grand total of fourteen. His score was only three points higher than Draycos’s, but Draycos wasn’t going to let his guard down. He still remembered what Zero had told him about the stats shown on the screens were only set by the standards of an individual’s race. Orcs were generally much stronger than humans, so the stats shown didn’t really compare the two prisoners very well. Even so, Draycos’s stats weren’t all that accurate, either. He wasn’t your average human, that was for sure.

Theravor sighed as he watched Draycos and his opponent walk out to the middle of the arena. “Of all the rotten...,” he muttered under his breath.

Theravor and the rest of the Dragon Council, were sitting on stone and metal cushioned thrones set up in the top box placed at the very top of the coliseum where they could see the whole arena. Reothad, Damrabe, Vertex, and Poseidon were also present, standing behind the row of thrones as all the dragons watched events unfold below. Damrabe wore his sash of blood samples, and Poseidon was decked out in the prison guard armor, except it was trimmed in gold instead of silver, and a large orange spike protruded from each knee. It even came with a full silver helmet that completely covered Poseidon’s head, and a row of the orange spikes covered the top of the helmet, resembling a spiky mohawk.

Theravor lounged in the most prominent throne as he covered his face with a hand and shook his head. “Poseidon, is that the orc that Draycos got into a fight with on the very first day in prison?”

“Yes,” Poseidon answered, taking a step forward. His eyes gleamed from under his helmet as he looked down to the arena. “Strange coincidence that those two would be fighting each other again in the very first round, isn’t it?”

“You know fully well that this was apparently set up,” Theravor exasperated. He looked behind his throne at Reothad. “Reothad, you and Poseidon go check on the magical maintenance room and see if there’s anything suspicious going on. Someone must have manipulated the spells that allowed prisoner’s gate stones to activate at random.”

Reothad and Poseidon gave Theravor a slight bow before leaving without a word. Theravor returned his attention to the arena as the fight was getting ready to start.

“Well, well, well,” Brock started as he and Draycos stood off against each other. He spread his massive arms wide, the same savage smile still on his face. In contrast, Draycos face was expressionless, and his hands were in his pockets. He almost looked bored, but he was actually quite irritated. “Who knew we’d get our chance for a rematch so soon?”

Draycos actually snorted upon hearing this. “Screw you,” he spat. “It’s obvious this fight was arranged; this whole tournament is so damn corrupted.”

“Do you actually have a problem with the game?” Brock probed, his smile fading somewhat as he lowered his arms a bit.

“I have plenty of problems with this,” Draycos responded. “But,” he added, pulling his hands out of his pockets as he took up the same stance that Zero used during their training, “I’m willing to put up with this for as long as I have to. Winning these games will give me the chance to prove myself against everyone who thinks I actually stole this damned orb.”

The rest of Brock’s smile faded, and his arms fell to his sides. A vein visibly pulsed in his forehead as his hands shook from clenching them so tightly. “So, you really think you can win the games, brat?” he growled.

“Of course,” Draycos responded blatantly. “I wouldn’t bother if I didn’t think I could.”

“Let the first match of this year’s Prisoners’ Games begin!!” the MC yelled as a gong was struck, ringing throughout the coliseum.