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Betas: MewStar0013
Jason was thrown into a dark, dingy room before hearing the wooden door slam closed and locked behind him. His body writhed as he stood up and walked towards the door, the chains connecting his wrists and ankles contracting his movements a bit. The Signer banged his fists on the door, but it would not budge. Developing bruises from his shackles and the recent ones from where Chakra's chains bit into him burned on his skin as he continued to force the door open. But the door was locked tight, and eventually, Jason slid against the door onto the floor, and sat with his back against the wall. He sighed in exasperation from all that transpired today. First he woke up in the middle of nowhere, then he was forced into a duel by a native warrior, and now he was trapped in a dungeon by an Amazon princess. "Eighteen years old and I didn't see any of this coming..."
"You must expect that sort of thing from the princess," Jason's eyes darted towards the source of the voice. A large and burly man was sitting in a dark corner of the room, "The White Tiger shows no mercy, especially to those who she deem a threat to her rule."
"And you are...?" Jason was sure that voice had sound familiar, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.
"Who am I?" the man smirked, "I'd think you would have an idea of who I am, considering we met before..." the man moved away from the shadows, revealing his dark hide and shaved head, "and since I tried to destroy the world at one point."
It took moments for Jason to put the pieces together, "Devack... You're Devack, aren't you?" His instincts told him to run, but his chains were providing quite difficulties.
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" asked the bald man, arms crossed and making no indication to move.
"What are you doing here?" asked the black-haired teen finally. Devack side, tilting his head one way and looking extremely tired. Quite different from before.
"It's kind of a long story, actually." He drawled.
"I do have all day." To raise the emphasis, Jason rattled the chains on his wrists, soon counting that as a bad idea when the metal links pinched his purpled skin.
"If you say so. But to explain my story, I must start with princess Alina's..." Devack began, "When she was a little girl, she lived a sheltered life inside this very palace, often watching the village she now reigned from the castle walls. Her mother, the late queen, was admired throughout the land. Even Alina, being her daughter, was flattered by her courage. But one day, a foreign woman belonging to a secret organization arrived at the palace and challenged the queen to a duel. The clash furthered when the challenger created a mighty storm that almost destroyed the kingdom."
Mighty storm? Secret organization? Putting it together, only one name came up in Jason's mind. "Let me guess: Careen Stormfeather, of the Arcadia Movement?" Devack didn't seem all-too surprised of his answer. As if he expected it.
"The very same. You see, Alina was born with a special gift that only the queen herself, along with a few trusted advisers, knew about; I was one of those advisers," Devack's voice didn't not flatter when Jason's eyes widen, "But somehow, the secret somehow leaked outside our island and reached the ears of the Arcadia Movement. Careen was a representative of said order and came here to take her away, but the queen refused to have her daughter leave her. That resulted in a duel in which their combined power almost caused her kingdom to be blown away by a massive hurricane. After the storm calmed, Alina was nowhere to be found, as the duelist took her away."
Jason remained silent, eyes now on the ground, and listened to Devack's story.
"The queen wanted so badly to go out and find her, but she dare not leave her kingdom and her subjects. So she sent out her bravest to travel across the earth in search for the princess, not daring to return until she was found. As one of the princess' vassals, I was proud to serve. My search soon lead me to New Domino City, when I eventually infiltrated the Arcadia Movement headquarters. I soon found her among other prisoners they had stocked under their foundation. Those monsters had treated her like an animal in a cage. I freed her from their clutches and escaped that prison before anyone noticed she was gone. At last she was back home where she belonged; and the first face she wanted to see was that of her mother. But it was not as all welcoming."
"What happened?" Jason felt some sort of lump in his throat. With how this story was going, he could tell that there was no happy ending.
"A rare illness had the queen bedridden long before Alina returned. The princess stood by her side until finally, the queen passed away. And that was when Alina changed. . ." The Dark Signer's voice sound cold, and grim, "She became hardened and cold to her subjects, especially towards the male servants, to the extent of lashing at them for no reason. Though not often, the men would always be in danger of her wrath."
Jason could remember the hatred and fire in Alina's he first met her, and the frighten Michelangelo from awhile back. It made sense now.
"That would explain why I was almost her scratching post. But it still doesn't explain how you ended up a Dark Signer; and how you got locked up in here." Pointed out the grey-eyed duelist.
"Sometime afterward, she decided out of nowhere to cast me away. After serving the royal family for as long as I could remember, Alina discarded me and cast me out into the jungle," Jason gasped at the revelation as Devack continued with the story, watching the older man clutch his fists with stone-harden eyes, "I was angered by her rash decision that I looked to the Gargareans for guidance. In the moments I passed the border, I met someone who recognized my talents as a shaman and gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. That's where I entered my path as a Dark Signer. From there I practiced my skills for their benefit to the extent of seizing the Duel Monster Spirit World. But as you know, my plan was thwarted along with the war. With nowhere else to turn, I had no other choice but to return to my homelands, and hope the princess would take me back. But as you may have guessed, it didn't work out to well..." Devack's voice trailed off, and the two then suffered a long silence.
"...I had absolutely no idea." Jason muttered, leaning against one the walls. Devack made a sound of dry amusement, though he didn't look scornful.
"It's alright, I suppose. But you shouldn't be concerned about me, when you should worry about yourself." He warned, looking at the Signer- believe it or not- with honesty.
"I have a feeling they're not going to leave me in this cell, are they?" asked Jason, slumping his shoulders.
Devack shook his head, "All I could say is that you had better prepare to face the White Tiger."
Meanwhile. . .
Speaking of whom, the White Tiger herself was residing inside her extravagant bedroom, lying lazily across the side of her epicurean bed. It was tiring to have brought a criminal all the way to the castle to be thrown in the dungeon, especially when you have to haul him from the end of a chain riding bareback on your pet tiger. She had no idea why she bothered lounging around when there was a trial to take place in a matter of hours. But why bother? He was just some foreign vermin who was here to take away everything she swore on her late mother's grave to protect. His fate was sealed the moment he decided to set foot in her land. But it was not just him she was worried about; if he were to do as he pleased, his actions could encourage the few male servants to revolt against their masters. She could not have that either.
She took a glance at her servant, Michelangelo, who was kneeling at her side, filing her nails. His face held no emotions, but his green eyes focused on his master's nails. Silent and obedient; that's what Alina expected from all of her servants.
"Michelangelo!" the princess barked. The ginger-haired servant flinched at his master's sudden exclaim. She appreciated that he still knew how to instantly respond to her commands, "Tell me, how long have you served me?"
"Um, I think it was ten years ago, milady," he said, though his voice was rather quiet.
"And do you know how you came to be here?" asked the blue-haired royalist.
He was hesitant for a moment before continuing, "After I lost my. . ." His eyes turned glassy for the smallest moment ". . .mother to a fire, I was left to wander the jungle for days on end. That was until-"
"Hands." Sacred eyes blinked.
"Pardon me?"
"I do not remember telling you that you could stop moving your hands!" she snapped.
"Huh? Oh! A thousand apologies, your highness!" Michelangelo resumed tending to his mistress as he continued with his story, "The Queen found me that one night and was generous enough to take me in; and in return I would live the rest of my life as your servant. Even to this day I am eternally grateful that you still allow me to be of assistance." He said, bowing his head in respect.
"I am very happy to hear that," Alina reached over with her free hand and stroke against the lazing Nila's fur, whom in turn elicited a low and deep purr for her master, "And I prefer it stays that way. Because I would hate to find out that my servants are plotting against me, especially if it were to be by a male as lowly and spineless as you," Nila gave the red-haired servant a blustering growl as a response of her own to him, "And you of all people know what I would have to do if that were to happen, don't you?"
Michelangelo sat still, his breath caught in his throat as Alina's now-sharp-to-the-point nails racked slightly across his face, Alina's face serious with pursed lips. She stared into the servant's eyes, searching for something.
In those bright eyes, green as the leaves of the jungles, they held no hatred, or strife. They held neither depression, or loathing. Not even anger. They brimmed with fear, but peace was crossed into his green irises. Peace and loyalty, as strong as the will of a lion's. Alina's brows furred. How could someone as frighten as a scarab beetle, as weak and scrawny as this boy, posses the eyes of a warrior?
Alina despised the boy for that.
With great swiftness, the poor, unsuspecting teenager was thrown back by the power of Alina's swiping hand, his body tossed like a damp cloth and his back hitting the stoned wall. The slave held his pale hands to his eye, breathing harshly and shaking, his long bangs curtaining his face.
Alina's face held no remorse, watching the boy's frame rack and shiver with a small sliver of blood escaping the crack of his index and pointer fingers.
"Be lucky that I did not ask Nila to do that," she warned, her tiger growling itself, "Clean yourself up and return to your chores. Before the eve strikes, prepare me another bath." she ordered.
Knees buckled together, Michelangelo stood, removing one of his hands, said hand stained with crimson liquid. His uninjured eye, to Alina's cringe, still held that damned light of bravery.
"...Yes, milady." he wheezed, bowing his whole back before quickly fleeting the room. Alina inspected her nails, her nose scrunched as her nails were ruined.
"That damned slave. . ." she muttered, Nila only swishing her tail in response.
"Honestly? She only did that to bring her point across?"
". . . It's not as if I can fight back. She's royalty, Demetrius."
The older male shook his head, a slight scowl on his face as he pressed a wet cloth across Michelangelo's eye, the boy wincing at the stinging liquid.
"Dem, are you sure it's alright for you to do this? If they find out that you've practice medical studies, they'll-"
"Most likely shoot me where I stand? Tch," The black and long-haired medic rolled his brown eyes, one covered by his bangs, "I think they would do me a favor then. Better than living like some common roach," Wrapping a thick gauze diagonally across the red-head's left eye, he nodded, wiping his hands off the kilt of his tunic, "There. Keep that on for a few weeks. If you're lucky enough, you won't be blind in that eye."
Nodding, Michelangelo placed his reed back on his head and he followed Demetrius out of the servants' chambers, the both of them knowing they had jobs to perform.
"Hey, Dem? You seem more anxious than usual today. Is something wrong?" asked Michelangelo. Demetrius sighed, scratching the back of his neck.
"I've heard from Lady Valentine that her highness will be setting up the trails for the prisoner." he muttered.
"Prisoner?" asked his red-haired companion, trying to follow the taller man's strides.
"Yes. Some sort of foreigner. Not Gargarean, as much as I know, but he is said to be a danger to the tribe. Something about the air around him that will cause a riot amongst the slaves. Heh," Demetrius spared a small smirk, "I'd shake the man's hand if I'm given the chance. And I'd say that this will be best for us. It's about time we have the rights we were given by the gods."
"Demetrius! Hold your tongue!" scolded Michelangelo, shaking his head, "After all the honor we have of severing in the Queen's kingdom-"
"And what for it? Being some sort of slave? Being treated like animals?" muttered the brown-eyed servant, sighing when he saw he was scaring the younger, "Forgive me. You are still young. I should learn, since I am your senior," Turning a corner, the two walked into the courtyard, Demetrius now speaking quietly when a few Amazons drew near, "My point being that these trials are pointless. Our genders, who we are, what gender we posses, it is dying out, save for the Gargareans. I only fear for the young lad."
"Do you know what he looks like?" whispered Michelangelo. Demetrius gave a nod.
"From what I heard, his hair was the oddest combination of black and silver."
Michelangelo's healthy eye widen with fear.
'Jason!'
The next couple of days that followed were long and quiet. Michelangelo was surprised, considering that the whole palace was usually rowdy.
Nonetheless, the servant was up and ready by the kitchens, ready at his station to deliver Alina's breakfast, his eye already better, though according to Demetrius his eye would be keeping those three scars for the rest of his life. The redhead didn't mind. As long as he could see, he was at least grateful for that.
"Bring this to the prisoner in the lower West cell of the kingdom." muttered the cook, handing him a small plate of meat and fruit. Nodding, Michelangelo took the plate and walked down to the West prison cells, the millions of sealed doors towering over him. Reaching the last door, he nodded to the guards and they allowed him in.
Jason looked up to see Michelangelo standing with a small plate of food in his hands, "I take it you're here to deliver my last meal?" he asked sarcastically.
"I heard about what happened, Jason," the servant responded, "I think it was a good thing you surrendered when you did; it must have saved you a lot of trouble."
Jason lowered his head, "Apparently not enough trouble. They think I'm out to destroy their home or something. I wish I had figured out another way..." Michelangelo placed the plate on the ground. Jason's eyes widened a bit when he saw a straight gash across his right eye, "What happened to you?"
"Oh? Uh..." Michelangelo shied his eye away from Jason's sight, "I just slipped and fell over a thorn bush. It's no big deal."
Jason did not believe a word the servant said. It must have been a large thorn to make that scar. If Alina was the one who made that scar, them Michelangelo must have done something to upset her. But he did not look like someone who would mouth off toward someone. That concerned Jason a lot.
He stood up from off the floor, with little difficulties with his chains, "Look, I don't know what I gotta do but I have to see this Princess Alina again!" it was now Michelangelo's turn to widen his eyes, "Devack told me what happened, about when Alina was kidnapped and her mother passing away. What the Arcadia Movement did to her must have traumatized her so much to act this way! And I plan to help her get closure." hr sad firmly.
Michelangelo could not help but marvel in the man's courage. His master made her 'trauma' as Jason put it, a forbidden subject never to bring up. Never have anyone, Amazon or Gargarean, ever dared to help her through it. Yet this young man is willing to risk his life to help her, "...Could you really save her?" he asked, tilting his head.
"I don't know anything about this island, the Gargareans or the Amazons, but I don't care how bad you messed up no one should have that happen to him." Jason said, taking note of Michelangelo's scar.
The gingered servant covered his eye and looked away, "This may be a little difficult. The only way to even reach my master is to pass the three trials of Courage, Intelligence, and then Freedom. And in case you do not know, each trial involves a duel. You no doubt have your cards confiscated so you would have to use the one the princess had put together for the accused."
"If passing these so-called trials mean I can finally get out of these chains, and face Alina once and for all, then I'll adapt."
"I am glad you have said that," both males' hearts skipped a beat as they spun toward the source of then voice. The Captain of the Guard Valentine was standing in the open doorway, "...Because it's time."
With Valentine and several other guards leading them, Jason and Michelangelo walked side by side as they were led past the courtyard, several other servants, slaves, and Amazons watching them quietly.
"Where are you taking us?" asked Jason.
"To where we hold the three trials, boy. Her majesty has prepared the arena for this occasion, in which several others will have the pleasure of you failing." snide Valentine, glaring at Jason from the corner of her eye.
"I won't fail." muttered Jason, only to be laughed at by some of the guards.
"It's really is amazing that you stood up to Lady Valentine." whispered Michelangelo, eyes filled with worry.
"Where I come from, it doesn't matter if you're male or female. Both genders treat each other equally." whispered Jason.
"Did you say something?" asked his red-haired companion.
"Ah, never mind." mumbled Jason, not wanting to warp the slave's mind. The group finally came to a halt when they reached a giant coliseum that was tangled in vines and large leaves, cracking marble and sandstone structuring the arena. Valentine turned to the duo.
"The Queen and the arena await you, boy. And as for you," Valentine narrowed her eyes at Michelangelo, "You will be his Guide."
"Guide?" asked Jason, head tilted curiously.
"I will be looking over and keeping you under surveillance." informed Michelangelo, head still bowed.
"Surveillance?" Jason was now even more confused.
"In case you try to escape. But, I wouldn't worry about that, even with someone as weak as this servant. Servant boy, inject him with the serum and prepare him for the trail of Courage." growled Valentine, tossing the keys to Jason's shackles to Michelangelo, the latter fumbling them a bit before he finally caught them.
"Y-Yes, Lady Valentine," mumbled Michelangelo, bowing his head.
Pulled by the collar around his neck, Jason coughed as he was tugged and dragged into the coliseum by the two of the guards with Michelangelo following behind silently. Dragged down dusty halls and stoned floors, the four finally reached a stoned-build room. Once shoved in the room, the guards left the two.
"What did she mean by a serum?" Jason never ceased to dodge beating around the bush. Michelangelo sighed, walking across the room as he pulled open the only crate in the room, pulling out a corked bottle of a black liquid and a small knife.
"This is the poison taken from the seven-spotted viper, one of the most deadly snakes that inhabits the jungle. As a competitor, this liquid must be applied to an open wound in order to be slipped into your blood stream." explained the servant.
"Wait, what!? I need to have poison in my bloodstream?" asked Jason in disbelief, his eyes on the bottle his nervous friend held.
"Yes. As rules of the trials, my master also wishes to test the wills of the challengers. Therefore, she has them injected with the poison, to see if their strength and will can keep them alive throughout the trials. The poison is strong enough to kill a warrior in a few hours," said Michelangelo, suddenly pulling off one of the berries from his head reed and squishing it in his palm. Holding the pulped berry in the liquid, and squeezing the pulpy juice out with a few drops spill, the boy shook it before it turned into a obsidian-purple, "However, since I am your Guide, I might as well level the playing field. Now," The green-eyed slave held out his hand, "Let me see your wrist, Jason."
"OK, just how did you help me out here? You're still going to cut me and give me poison!" snapped Jason urgently.
"Yes, but because of the juice of the Kiku berry, the poison has been tampered, and it will only give you the symptoms of what the poison would do to you. It won't even kill you." assured Michelangelo with a grin. Jason eyed the purple liquid again before looking skeptically at Michelangelo.
"Look, I'm not being ungrateful or anything but, why are you helping me out here, Michelangelo? Won't you be killed when they find out what you've done?" he asked. Michelangelo nodded before smiling gratefully.
"Yes, most likely. But I. . . I don't care what happens to me!" Gripping the dagger, the younger boy looked at the older confidently, "Jason, I just simply can't poison you. No, I can't poison anyone, period! Not even my worst enemy! When the first thought came to mind, I thought it was because I was afraid. But it wasn't that. It was because you are one of the only friends I have, Jason," The bottle shook in his pale hands and the young teen let out a sigh, "I can never do that. Besides, you are one of the few I've met that have this sort of will, this sort of strength that can actually turn my master back to how she was." he said.
Jason stared at the young man before shaking his head.
"Michelangelo, if you get hurt-"
"Then it's on my own responsibility. Please, Jason, I want to help you. Which is why I've kept this for you," Crouching to the ground, the redhead took the knife, took off his shoes, and sliced open his furred moccasins, a total of forty-five cards falling from the shoes. Shuffling the cards into a full deck, Michelangelo held the future duelist the deck, "These are cards I've been keeping, ever since I was a child," He held them to Jason, "I know that they're not much, but they should give you a better chance at winning."
Jason looked at the younger teen seriously, "Michelangelo, you're risking so much."
The green-eyed servant smiled knowingly.
"As mother once said, 'You have to risk going too far to discover just how far you can really go.' If I lose my life, then that means I have gone farther than anyone. Now, please Jason, we must get you prepared." he said.
Jason held his own arm, sighing to himself before holding his wrist out. Carefully, his orange-haired friend held his wrist and made one quick and shallow cut, pouring the purified liquid into the bleeding wound. Shivering at how his whole arm went numb for a good ten seconds, before he regained mobility again.
"Good, your skin is paling and your eyes are looking sunken. You look poisoned," Michelangelo nodded, and Jason would have laughed if the younger was joking. The doors were yanked open and Jason gave a choke as he was grabbed by his chains again, forcefully being pulled out by the guards. Scurrying a little behind him, knowing that he had to got back to his queen's side.
'Good luck, Jason' Thought Michelangelo, praying that his friend would survive.
When Jason was lead back outside he was met with the view of a large gantry hanging by four intersecting catwalks. He looked down the pit below as he was being pushed across the bridge, to see a pride of lions and tigers stalking around, licking their chomps as if he was their next meal. And when they reached the platform the guards shoved him to the ground.
He picked himself up and looked at his surroundings. The stadium looked filled to capacity with the natives of this land. Over a thousand females on the stands jeering and laughing at him. Standing in the other side of the arena stood a giant stone podium holding an imperial box. The women quieted as its red curtains opened and finally revealed the host of the event, Princess Alina, as she walked out onto the balcony. The were all silent and waiting their ruler to give her word...
"Fellow Amazon sisters!" she called out, "You have been gathered here today to witness yet another example of our iron-clad warrior kingdom's power!" her eyes were dropped from her loyal masses to their entertainment, "This man you see before you is found guilty of attempting arrogation of my throne; and now he stands today to face judgement!" the women's cheers became an uproar before Alina raised her hand to calm them down, "As you may have known from last time, he will be facing three trials to earn his freedom! And we will see if this one has the strength of will to pass the trials? Or will he die like all those before him? ...Let us find out today, and begin the Trial of Courage!" the audience cheered, eager to watch this rare spectacle, "Now bring out the first judge: Kalis the Dunamis!" the opposing gates opened and Jason's opponent walked out.
The opponent in which Alina referred to was a large, heavily muscular woman with spiky dark-brown hair with its back extension in a ponytail. She wore golden-yellow bands on her upper-arms and padding over her knees. She had bandaged wrapped around her hands and feet, as well as black-and-blue-patterned bands around her wrists and lower-thighs. She wore an aqua-blue-clothed bikini and loincloth which were connected by a linked leather strapping. The giant stood in her position on in the arena as she looked at Jason with a cocky grin, "So you're the wannabe usurper I get the pleasure of destroying in a duel, huh?" she boasted, "Ha! This won't take long at all!" Kalis sported a golden bracelet, similar to the one Valentine had, with a green gem ornamented in it. It glowed as it began to change shape until it was replaced with a duel-disk.
"Alright..." the mark on Jason's arm glowed and he, just like before, was able to summon his duel-disk. He placed Michelangelo's deck inside, and readied himself to duel. "Let's do this."
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