Final Jeopardy (Theme)

Published 7/1/2012 by Ryan Christopher Adams

The sunlight had long since vanished from the hole at the top of my cell, letting in only total darkness within the confines of my prison. Not even the moon and it pale, pristine strips of luminescence kept me company in my solitude. The night was bone-chilling in its cold despair. My thin clothing, combine with my fur, was barely enough to keep me from freezing. I wrapped my wings around my body to try and keep my fur from developing frost on their tips. This was a whole new level of alone for me; now I knew how the penguins felt in Antarctica. At least they had each other for warmth.

What had I become? A groveling convict in the pit of his despair. I was sickened with myself, but now was not the time for self pity.

Letting my mind turn away from my growing depression, which I would have serious repressions for later, I turned my head skyward. Just the outer rim of the moon was visible from the limited vision of the grating. Still, no light came to keep me company. I sighed, taking my journal and pen back out to scribe an entry within my story.

Day 1

The night here takes no pity on the prisoners that lie lonely in tis darkness. My only cell mate met his demise hours before, leaving me to rot in sleepless insanity here in the stone walls of my cell. As my fatigue grows stronger, maybe my luck will find me again and I’ll simply collapse into unconsciousness, getting some wink of rest before the battle I’m to be thrown in. With any luck, the prisoners I’ll be facing will have little to no battle experience, and if that is proven to be false… I simply won’t think about it.

~BrokenSoldier. Falling in the Abyss

I finish signing the pen name that I always used back on Earth, closing the book and sliding it back into my sling with my pen. The bars within my cell begin to shimmer once more. I look up to find some solace in my madness. Moonlight is finally breaching the grating above me. Battered by the corrosion of fatigue and tiredness, I slowly wander over to the area of light pouring from above. I take a seat, cross-legged, and begin to do something that has always calmed me when my nerves are on the fritz.

Meditate. While no music was able to keep me company, the dull luminescence over my body would be sufficient enough. My eyes fell to a close, though sleep did not follow, as expected.

In, out. In, out. In, out I thought to myself as my chest rose and fell with each breath, letting the cool of the night waver around me, the heat having no effect on my body as I remained deep in thought.

Within the darkness, I began to see… shapes, forming within my mind, in the manifestation as strange runes and symbols. That instantly shot my eyes open with shock. Looking down at my hands, they remained the same. They weren’t glowing, nor did they have strange tribal markings etched into their fur. Just what was that? From what I could see from my time outside, the villagers didn’t exactly seem magically versed or gifted. So what was it?

“Oh, so close! Maybe next time, you just might explode from sheer anticipation!” proclaimed a voice, followed by a maniacal cackle with a few coughs from lack of oxygen.

I look up from my meditation to find… THAT FUCKING TEENAGER!

This guy had caused me to get an arrow to the wing, imprisoned in this hellhole, and a week away from being thrown into an arena! I WAS GOING TO SNAPE HIS NECK AND USE HIS SPINE AS A BACK SCRATCHER! Leaping with whatever force was left in my legs, flapping my wings as hard as I could just to get a finger on the grating. I fell a full twenty feet short of teen, who had begun to cackle once more as my body fell back to the floor of my cell.

“What did I do to deserve this?!” I angrily replied while chucking the shattered remains of my iPod up at the ceiling.

“Because” The teen replied, composing himself from his hysterical laughing. “I required a piece in this little… ‘game’ that I am playing.”

“And what side, pray tell, am I on in this ‘game’?”

“That, my dear Abyss, is all up to you.” With another snap of his fingers, the white haired teen disappeared in a haze of pale mist that shimmered in the moonlight, vanishing into the wind.

This was simply too much action for one night, and the soreness in my body was making that incredibly apparent. I decided that I should at least try to fall asleep and regain some of the energy lost in the day. Staggering back to a corner in my cell, I slumped down to my rear, folding my wings over my body as I slipped into what would be a restless night.

My mind decided to a dickhead once again, plaguing me not with visions that were horrifying. No; this time, good old Nightmare decided to hit an area close to home. Within my mind, my family, standing at the front door of my home, was weeping with the news that I had been shot and killed within the firefight by a police officer. My mother, sweet as she was, began to tear up, while my father and sister, as much of a jerk as she was, stared at the officer with the same incredulous look that I had worn so many times in the last day.
A flash of white light. Transition to my funeral. My entire family; my aunts, uncles, great-aunts, great-uncles, grandparents, cousins, and the friends that still held respect (or even remembered) me all came to pay their respects. I couldn’t take watching this anymore. I desperately wanted to wake from this dream, but my mind kept me shackled like the cell that I was contained in. Wait a second!

Another flash of light, and the depressing scenery of some random dude preaching my eulogy was gone, replaced by the expanse of the galaxies themselves. Stars lay strewn throughout the cosmos, while the formations of every galaxy imaginable formed and flashed past me as the universe passing me began to flash faster and faster.

*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*

“Hey, furball!” exclaimed a guard on the other side of the cell, fully garbed in the armor of the soldiers that had been worn the day before. “Wake up! I’m not paid to wait for you to eat this slop like the animal that you are!” He seemed to spit at the word “animal”. Guess that may be some kind of ludicrous slander in this world.

Groggily shaking myself awake from the beautiful lucid dream that was so rudely snatched from my grasp, I rose to my feet to receive a wooden bowl filled with a substance very similar to pig slop; brown with scattered bits of what I believed to be vegetables and different fruits. The liquid-ish substance was most likely some kind or old gumbo, and it smelled like rotten eggs cracked and sautéed in expired milk.

“Hope your stomach come up with your food.” The guard sarcastically remarked before walking back towards the doorway, letting the light from outside pour in for a brief second before I was returned to the scenery I was introduced to the day before.

Now I, for one, am an INCREDIBLY picky eater. Looking at this bowl of shit before me; I wanted to barf. But when you’re stuck behind diamond-encrusted bars and this is all you have to eat, you just learn to suck it up… and in. Lifting the bowl from the floor, I pinched my nose with my free paw, though I could still tasted the stench on my tongue. Yes; you can taste scents, and it’s not fun. With one final gulp, I began to pour the slop down my throat, letting it slither down my esophagus and into my stomach.

I gagged a few times before I had to catch my own vomit. I was lucky enough not to taste any of that gruel, but my stomach did not agree with it. Thankfully, I was able to man up and keep my innards from spewing themselves across my cell, though I shuddered as the hot acids of my vomit fell back down my throat. I officially had a new least favorite food. THAT SHIT!

Light began to pour back into the prison ward from the outside. The door had opened again. Who was coming? A visitor? The king? My… executioner?! In a troubled haste, I sprung to my feet, holing my left paw for swatting while I kept my right next to my hip, balled into a fist. Thank Celestia for martial arts. The doors leading into the hallway closed again, obscuring the light from the outside while a faint glow lay hidden in the distance. A candle, most likely, considering the orange luminescence of the light source.

Finally, the visiting form came into view, revealing the woman that I had seen the day of my sentence. Instead of wearing the threads I had seen her in the day before, her wore a white tunic, going only as far as her stomach. The outlines were lined with a bright golden fabric, and the article was tied at the back from what I could tell. Paired with the pale top was also a set of clothing that was oddly like shorts, though they hugged the legs and stayed loose at the waist. It was much more fitting for someone like her. Here wings, oddly enough, were neither black, nor white. Instead, they were a deep golden brown, much like on an African Wild Dog’s fur, though they were slightly smaller than my own.

“Hello? Abyss?” The feline replied with a voice that reminded me of Otulissa from the Guardians of Ga’Hoole movie, just without the snobbish accent to match. “Good.” She said, sliding the grating of the cell open and entering, carrying her candle in one paw and another wooden bowl in the other.

My muscles started to relax at the sight of the girl and I lowered my arms from their defensive stance. From what I could assume, she was probably here to treat my wounds or something. A healer, if you would. The feline sat down on the stone floor, setting her candle and bowl to the left and right of her before motioning me over. Taking a seat, I sat cross-legged before here. Aaaaand, cue the awkward silence.

I think it was a full minute before either of us said anything. Not to mention the fact that I had an overwhelming urge to say “Awkwaaaaard.” just to make fun of the moment. Finally, though, I chose to speak up.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, miss…?”

“Remedy, please.” She replied sweetly. Fitting, considering that she’s (probably) a healer.

“Remedy, why, pray tell, are you here? Not be rude; I’m merely curious.”

The feline took a few leaves from the bowl that sat next her, telling me to eat a few, and that they would help in her healing. Boo-yah! I was right! Munching on the leaves, thankfully, took the horrible taste of the gruel out of my tongue, and left my mouth minty fresh, too! Then, something completely unexpected happened.

Remedy began to lean over to the slit within my wing, and before I knew it, her hands were glowing! And so was the cut in my wing! I nearly jumped out of my fur when I saw this, though the relief as I felt muscle begin to grow back was too much to simply ignore. This went on for a few more seconds before the session finally stopped, though my wing felt sore from the lack of healing properties prescribed (heh, alliteration).

“Remedy? What… was that?” I whispered in between pants of disbelief.

“A muscle growth spell, though with a little modification on my part.” She replied ever so calmly. “It’s a basic technique that all healers are to learn before they enter the field.” She turned to find me in my state of incredulity. “You seem surprised? Can you not use magic?”

“It’s not that.” I replied, regaining my calm composure. “It’s just that… your people never really seemed like the people that would use magic.” I hoped that she wasn't offended by the remark.

“I understand. Your only time to try and witness magic was when you were being dragged down here. All of our people have the potential to use magic, though some toss it aside in favor of skill in flight.”

So… maybe that was magic that I had been seeing. Note to self; meditate more and try and unlock these powers of mine… when the guards aren’t looking, of course. That would only bring my end that much closer.

Remedy began to gather her items again, heading back to the grating before I stopped her with a question.

“Remedy… just what are we? I mean, the species of your people and” I said pointing to myself.

“We have been known by many names” she said staring back to the wooden doors of the prison entrance. “Though we have, and always will be, the Baraq (pronounced Bar-Ok), the guardians of the skies.”

And with a loud screech the gates came back to a close. That stupid door was like nails on a chalkboard.

“I will be back tomorrow for another session.” Was the last thing Remedy said before leaving me back in the darkness of my cell to ponder my thoughts.

The hours slowly, and with enough boredom that I’ve ever been faced with in one year of my life, but the sunlight of day was eventually washed away by the chill of night once more, beckoning the moon and the stars along with it. The guard tending to my cell slipped me a final bowl of the deep brown sludge for dinner, and down my throat it went. The liquid still made me gag, but I think I was starting to get used to the gruel. But food meant nothing now. I had bigger fish to fry.

The moon stood over the grating that hung over my cell once more, filling the small square with its pale, pristine light. Sitting in the center of the overhead illumination, I let my eyes fall to a close as I let my mind cease in its stirring.

“In, out. In, out, In, out” began to replay in my mind once more. The symbols that had made their presence known to me the night before.
My eyes tracked each symbol as it went forward in my mind, and every time I would lose one symbol, another would instantaneously take its place. Words began to echo in my ears, not knowing their meaning, but somehow knowing what they stood for. Fire, flickering in the wind; water, crashing against the Cliffside shores of some far off land, boulders crashing into the sea from the erosion, and gales, scattering the petals of flowers into the skies of an emerald field. I could feel an unknown sensation coursing through my veins. It felt... powerful.

A bright light began to flood the hallways of prison ward. My eyes shot open, revealing a blinding series of flashes and blazing bolts that erupted from my pupils, my body gently floating just inches off the ground, though I had no idea that all of this was even happening. Through my sight, I was still seeing the infinite symbols and ever-increasing environments, completely oblivious that my body was releasing a massive explosive force of pure magical power. This happening can only be described as a Flare; a single singularity of uncontrolled energy being released at a single epicenter, ever-expanding in its range and ability.

A circle of night blue light began to form around my body, pulsating with each second that another ounce of energy released. Another ring formed, this one with a deep crimson luminescence, lines and patterns being etched into the ground, connecting the two rings. Golden flashes began to strike the scenery, creating a triple-shaded storm of light. More intersecting markings began to connect the rings to each other, while a circlet of pure emerald light began to form. The energy and light started to grow more powerful, burning brighter as the four rings began to float upward, losing their intangible forms and growing physical.

Each ring, midnight blue, crimson red, lightning yellow and emerald green, lifted themselves from the stone floor, surrounding my body before turning into different positions, much like an atom, where I am the nucleus. The midnight blue ring, horizontal in position, was the first to go into kinetic motion, flipping over my body while the others awaited their turns. Next, the crimson red circlet, vertical in position, bean to spin at a steady pace, making each revolution just as the blue ring made each flip.

Next, the lightning yellow ring, upward-left in position, began to revolve as well, making its full circle just after the crimson ring, but just before the midnight ring. Finally, the emerald green ring, upward-right in its position, began to final make it’s movements , as each ring began to act in perfect synchronization; perfect tempo; perfect rhythm. Their movements began to grow faster and more rapid, the light from the cell growing bright and more powerful, capable of blinding anything that came too close within its range. The rings began to shrink and converge, their individual lights fading into one of pure, pristine color, until the circlets vanished in a cross of blinding, explosive luminescence as my body began to fall back to the floor.

The light in my eyes began to fade away as my body came to rest on the stone floor of my cell, finally returning my orbs to their original state. My body, having taken too much excitement and energy for one night, fell to the floor in a fatigued pile of fur and feathers, while I enjoyed the sweet caressing of night’s gentle voice.

Three more days blurred by without any sudden change, or any freaky happenings to make my solitude even a little more exciting. I had been dropped into Boredom City. Population: me. I had begun to practice my newfound magical abilities, going as far as taking apart areas of the stone was and reforming them to using the air around me as my own personal drinking fountain. Fire had yet to yield itself to me though, as the most I could conjure was just as small wave of heat. Well, guess I can’t get everything in one day.

Remedy’s healing sessions were beginning to do wonders for my wing. The rest of the flesh had almost been replaced, though she said it would take two more days for the rest of the skin to reform and for my feathers to be replaced. Two days; just one day before my time in the arena. That looming though never left my mind, which was why I never ceased in my training, physical, mental, magical, and even emotional, in preparation for what was to be my greatest challenge that I’ve ever faced. In the limited time that I had, I was forcing my body to become nothing less than a stone-cold, unfeeling, unemotional killer, and that’s what I was going to need if I was to survive. Twenty-three other criminals, each more versed in this region’s terrain, the magical arts, and, if worse comes to worse, blade-to-blade combat, was what reality was throwing at me. Yeah, talk about a curveball for you. A curveball bathed in kerosene and burning with hellfire. I had some training in martial arts, with average skill with a sword, but I’ve yet to handle weaponry with my new body.

The familiar glow of Remedy’s candle as it shone in the dark halls of the prison ward arrived again. I had become accustomed to her healing sessions with me. On multiple occasions had I asked her about the history of the country that I had been imprisoned in. The country is just south of a territory owned by a large company of Diamond Dogs, though apparently, the land I reside in does not have a name. Remedy said that it had been “lost in the ancient sands of time and the smoldering smog from the fires of war.”

From what she had told me, the wastelands that I had been apprehended in, the specific areas known as “The Canyon of the Blackwings” and the nearby forest “The Labyrinth of Terra”, were the final battleground from a civil war that this country had partaken in some five hundred years ago. If this battle hadn’t caused the country to forget its name, I’d hate to say the war that did! Across the canyon, where nothing but dusty stones and searing heats lay, vegetation of all variety was fruitful and plenty. It was a dense jungle, filled to every brim imaginable with every species of flora and fauna imaginable! The war, however, had taken no pity on such a piece of Eden, and into ashes it flared.

“But, what caused the civil war?” I inquired Remedy just as she finished her story while she turned to gather herbs for another healing session.

The feline let out a heavy sigh, from what I could tell… was guilt.

“The past is the past, Abyss, and it is not wise to dwell on happenings long before.” She replied before I took the herbs as she began to work her magic (pun completely intended!).

Seconds later, and the rest of my wing’s flesh finally took form, leaving a small area where no feathers covered the healed wound. A smile of caring content formed on her face with the completion of her handiwork. Remedy gathered her herbs and candle once more, saying that she would return tomorrow to finish her work before the competition the day after. The grating of my cell slid open again with its now-familiar ear-shattering creak, and Remedy was gone with the candle being snuffed by the greater light from outside. I almost felt compelled to say “Don’t go.”

I was becoming soft. In my loneliness and solitude, Remedy had been there to be some kind of guide. I was becoming attracted to her, in a way that was unacceptable at a time like this. Turning my mind away from such sentiments, I began my magical control once more, beginning with the manipulation of water vapor, forming it into streaks of water that I could easily control.

The Next Night

It was another mental training session, coupled with pure conscious magical control. No motions; no words; casting with only thought. I was sitting in the center of an elemental ring, comprised of frozen, misting icicles, stones with dust emanating from them, small collections of gales, swirling like tornados, and wisps of low, dimly glimmering fire, wavering in their position. I hid failed to produce a flame of any size larger, and I had yet to find the cause of this.

Unfortunately for me, my concentration was broken by the all too familiar cackle of that white-haired teenager.

“What do you want now?” I begrudgingly asked as he hung from his ankles, swing to and fro while blocking the moonlight I adored.

“Oh, I just thought I might come and wish you luck before… you know.” He replied in his same oily voice, still swinging like a pendulum.

Allowing my elements to dissipate into the air, while the stones scattered to the walls, I flew up to the swinging delinquent.

“Why do you seem so sure of yourself? Aren’t you worried that your little pawn is going to be taken?”

Flipping himself over, the teen became half mist, sliding through the bars in his intangible state.

“I chose you for a reason, Abyss. You will survive. You’re too powerful not to.”

The teen began to go back into his fully mist form, already being blow into the wind.

“By the way, you never did tell me your name, did you?” I coyly replied, flashing a fang-glinting smile before the being left.

“Fracture”

The name whispered its way into my ear-drums, looping through my mind as it enticed my senses, its owner vanishing into the night winds. Its alluring caress echoed off the walls of my prison, reverberating from the stone that surround my being as I descended back down to the cold floors of the ward.

The name was just as misleading as the man that it was coupled with, and it kept my thoughts continually searching for more answers to the questions regarding the white-haired youth. My thoughts began to fade into dwindling mumbles, my eyes drooping to a close as night began to serenade me with its melody. And into slumber I fell.

The warmth of the daylight sun awakened my senses once more. The light was the same motherly feeling as it was just a week ago. It was a gift from fate; an act of sympathy into what tortures realm that I was about the thrust into beyond my will. Unfurling my wings and letting out a half-fatigued yawn, I began to pop each of my bones with satisfying results. Knowing that my overseers would arrive in mere minutes, I gathered my sling, strapping to my back while I awaited my escort. Three minutes later, the guards arrived to take me to the arena.

The creak of the grating sounded again, the door swinging open as I joined the guards, though they took no hold over my body. I was expected to act obedient in their presence, so they showed some level of trust by not forcing me into movement. The rusty grating screeched against the stone floors for the final time, and down the dark hallways of the ward we went.

Minutes later, we arrived at what would’ve been classified otherwise, had it not been the entrance to the Arena, as an armory. Four torches, each burning a twilight violet while all manner of supplies for a soldier lay strewn throughout the room. For some reason, I felt my magical energy incredibly drained, unable to properly even focus on it. Most likely, the room is enchanted to keep other convicts from busting out and going for a destructive night on the town.

To my left, a three-layered rack of weaponry stood, holding axes, polearms, knives, daggers, staves and swords of all shapes, sizes and make-outs. Each one, however, was uniquely brandished with a different gem. A powerful force, completely unknown to me, resonated from every tool cast on the wall. It’s like the weapons were… alive, for lack of a better word. They were speaking to me, but their words of choice weren’t exactly welcome.

To my right, different levels and varieties or armory and body armaments. Shields, breastplates, gauntlets and chainmail caught my eye, among other things, that were available to my complete disposal. Roman-esque battle helms, bushido shoulder guards, and spiked arm-guards that would make the Dark Knight green with envy.

Without a second warning, the guards left me with the three violet torches, and every bladed or studded lethal instrument in my paws. I didn’t know when I was to enter the arena, but I guess I would know when it happened. I began to walk to the right, wanting to be protected by my armor before choosing a weapon to pair it with. I began with my torso, as it is the most vital of areas to protect. I decided not to go with anything made of metal; I was a man of speed, not power, so I needed something that would allow mobility. I decided to go with a leather cuirass, much like the ones that Greek and Roman soldiers would wear

Slipping off my sling, my jacket, and my blue speckled shirt, I pulled the leather breastplate over my head, tightening the straps that held it in place. Moving my body around, simply testing the mobility of the armor with minor stretching exercises, the chest-plate proved to be mobile, forming to my body’s movements with ease. Moving down the line, I picked up a pair of tan hakama, the traditional pants of the samurai, tightening the loose-fitting garments with a onyx belt and buckling it with a golden emblem, designed as two wings with single sword going between them.

Picking up my supplies, I wandered over to the weapons rack, scanning the countless rows of furnace-created metals, each crying, bellowing and pouring their voices out for the desperate taste of blood and innards of the twenty three convicts that I would soon face. Though the each blade, staff, axe and mace was alluring enough, none of the tools felt… right in my paws.

“Come to me.” A light whisper began to speak in my head. I jerked my skull over to the end of the rack, only finding a single cloth hanging from the support pole.

“Come to me.” Voice said again. Like Princess Aurora, lost in a trance, I began to stride over towards the whispering vocals, not knowing what I would find.

The whispering kept playing again and again in my mind, and with each step I took, my heart rate began to rise. What would I find in the secluded corner of the armory? A prisoner? A lost soul? Or something far worse than both of them combine. Well, the only thing that I can think of being that horrifying would be Pyramid Head, but I don’t think he’d leave Silent Hill just to torture some random dude. He’s got too much beef with James to even put one foot outside the border.

As I reached within grasping range of the drape, the alluring voice in my mind was silenced. A lump in my throat formed from the anticipation. I swallowed it with a heavy gulp as my hand began to inch towards the cloth, trembling with fear under what might be hiding under it. With one final twinge of uncertainty, I took hold of the drape and tore it from the support pole to find…

The most magnificent weapon I’ve ever seen.

The armament was unlike anything else that stood on the wooden racks next it. The weapon itself stood blade-down. The blade was split into two parts, having a slit down the middle; the width of the blade, if put together, would be the equivalent of a European Longsword blade, though thinner, and sharper. The metal of the blade was a deep, midnight black; an unknown material that I had never seen used before. The surface of the blade shimmered in the violet light of the torches; it was at least three feet in full length.

Attached to the bottom of the blade was a two foot length of wood. Wrapping around the hilt of the weapon was an intertwining series of vine-like wood patterns, put there either for aesthetic reasons or for grip-enhancement. At the end of where the vines ended, the length of the rod went another half foot, the weapon being topped with a single, Briolette cut amethyst. The gem itself was at least one inch wide, clutched by four talons, while the spike stretched another inch from the base. It didn’t seem like it was mechanically set into the weapon; it was fixed to the base, like it was magically fitted. Like the gem belonged with it.

I took the magnificent staff in my paws, twirling it with expert dexterity, swinging it back and forth like a total pro. I had no idea how I just did that, but this was my weapon. The blade rung as it cut through the airwaves, like a tuning fork as it was hit against steel. This weapon; it made me feel calm. I felt… ready with this staff in my grasp. Suddenly, a set of doors at the end of the room, letting in exuberant amounts of warming sunlight into my view. It was time.

Looking back at the torches, I began to wander closer to the one nearest. I gave one last look at the supplies in my paws, letting my mind remember once more the fond memories I held onto as a human being. But sadly, it is not wise to dwell on forgotten happenings and tales of before. With a heavy heart, I cast my shirt, my jacket, and my sling into the twilight inferno, watching as they began to curl up like a deceased insect and smolder in the flames. I stared intently into the fires as the pages of my journal burned black with the stains of the leaking ink. My story was not going to be captured in the pages of a book. It was going to be imbedded into the minds and hearts of all who witnessed my history.

The time of the human that had lived in the United States of America was over.

Now was the time of Abyss the Baraq.

Whew, that was a long one! Well, you all know what comes next! And it’s going to be epic! To end this I’m going to leave you with a fun fact. The inspiration for the name of the species Abyss is a part of is a reversal of the words Aq-Bar. Aq-Bar was the emblem of the republic Tatarstan in Russia, who’s symbol was a winged snow leopard. Well, see you!

P.S: Kudos to whoever recognizes the reference in the weapon’s design.