Why Me?
16-year-old Ari leaped down the corridors, her magenta cloak fluttering in the wind. Utgard was as it always was; glacial, covered by twilight, yet never ceasing to amaze its visitors by the stalagmites and stalactites that made up the stunning architectures. The snow eagles were especially active today. They were soaring through the cracks in the ice, not caring whether the weekly blizzards were lively. Nothing was going to ruin this day for Ari- today was the Blodisen Ceremony.
The Blodisen Festival stood for "Blood Ice Festival". It was a time when the strongest warriors would compete in battle to honor their current monarch. Their present king was a proud Jotun, Miraak. Although many Frost Giants enjoyed such blood and glory, Miraak had to hold the ceremony once every five years. Miraak was a young king, so this was his first time celebrating Blodisen.
Miraak was not only the king, he was also Ari's father.
Ari had only been a child when she first went, therefor she remembered almost naught of its elegance. Even though she was unable to summon up any Blodisen memories, the thought of it always brought a smile to her lavender mouth. Stories of the fights held in the Blodisen Festival Arena were always music to Ari's ears. She loved to hear the epics of how the warrior's razor-sharp ice swords would collide and would end in colossal bloodshed.
The gossips of such heroes only made Ari's desire to battle grow. That was basically what all Frost Giants wanted; they all wished to fight.
She was not a fan of the long hallways that intertwined throughout the castle. Even after walking the maze every day, there were still moments where she would completely lose her sense of direction. Worst of all, all the hallways looked the exact same; guards that were so still that it was almost alarming stood at every single doorway. The only pathways that she remembered was the way to her room, her brothers' room, and the king and queens room. She couldn't recall a day where it wasn't nigh unmanageable to slip out of the building without making a wrong turn.
Glorious snow eagles soared through and around the enormous entryway to the Blodisen Arena. Kjer sat along a wall to Ari's left, stroking a possessed eagle that rested atop his shoulders. "Hello, my sister. I see that you have chosen this... warrior apparel. Do you plan to cause bloodshed?" Kjer asked. "No, not really. I was just hoping to blend in with the occasion as all," she replied. Her older brother slid down the arched wall, and the snow eagle fled from its owner. His aqua skin glittered sky-blue in the morning sunshine, as did his long, braided, raven hair. He was garbed in a brown leather tunic, fuzzy snow boots, and his horns were painted to depict the colors of blood and combat- particularly Blodisen paints.
Kjer was a rather slender Frost Giant, 8 feet to be exact. Although he was a giant, his agility and stamina were impeccable. His lengthy black hair was usually slicked back or done up in some traditional Jotun fashion. His skin was flawless; no freckles, bruises, scrapes, or burns. The intricate markings along his skin indicated that he was of the royal family- all Frost Giants were born with patterns on them just as zebras would their stripes.
At that moment, Ari smelled the mouthwatering delicacies and icy goods of the Blodisen Market. The entrance to the marketplace was ornamented with red, gold, and navy blue flags that stood atop of the welcoming Blodisen arch. Two statue-like guards stood at the entry, unblinking and motionless. They two were attired in Blodisen clothing. Ari loved the market already. The first shop they came to was selling fresh salmon and other appetizing sea creatures that were coated in additional herbs. So this is the marketplace that I have been hearing of, Ari considered. All in all, the shops were beyond splendor.
As she and Kjer ventured the large marketplace, they saw items that were foreigners to their young eyes. The closer they got to the heart of the marketplace, the more outlandish gadgets greeted them. At one point, they came across an aviary that was filled with exotic birds; specifically phoenixes, thunderbirds, and peacocks.
Children dashed about the shops, occasionally yelling things in their native language, Jotun. Across from Kjer, a couple of poor beggars asked him for food and money, their horns twisted and cracked. To the right of an old beggar was a needy woman who only wore a mere blanket and bared only one curled horn, the other must have cracked off. Kjer, feeling bad for the woman, supplied her with a small sack of cobalt coins. "Thank you, kind sir," she uttered, her ruby eyes gleaming in the dim glow of dawn. "Anything for the needy," he replied thoughtfully with a caring smile.
The shops came in all colors; scarlet, blue, auburn, gold, silver, and everything else known to exist. It was almost impossible to not get distracted while locating the arena, such as the castle hallways. Never in all the nine realms has Ari ever experienced a festival such as the Blodisen Festival.
If anybody other than native Jotuns came, they would be bewildered by the Aztec-like society that flowed through the veins of Jotunheim. At night, many forest dwellers would build large bonfires and sacrifice meat to worship their beloved gods. As for the Blodisen Festival, it was overloaded with as much culture as possible.
"Ari! Ari, over here!" Kjer shouted, pointing to a small, charmed trinket shop. Ari must have been too distracted by the enthralling scenery of an art gallery to notice Kjer. As time went on, the crowd grew into a gargantuan beast that swallowed all who dared to come near. Kjer shouted again, suddenly reaching out for her. At the moment, she didn't know what to think; it felt as if all the people were reaching out for something on her to grab.
She was being pushed and pulled, tossed and turned, grabbed and let go. The mass of Frost Giants was too much for young Ari to comprehend, much less control. Where in the nine realms am I? was the only thought that rushed through her head like a freight train. The next thing she saw was a blur of colors as she was thrown down by the opposing force.
Her vision spun as she hit the ground, worried faces glanced down at her. By then, Kjer was out of sight. Several kind hands reached down for her yet pulled back as the crowd flowed by.
In the distance- or slightly nearby as much as she could tell- she could still hear the shouts of her older brother, desperately digging around for her. Several people stumbled over her, bruising her delicate skin. "Argh!" was all she could manage to say as each Jotuns' foot crashed into her side.
All of the sudden, she was grabbed by at least seven hands; all of which were tugging at her body, threatening to bruise her further. First, she was gently lifted up off the frigid ground. The next thing she knew, she was apart from the rushing rapids of Frost Giants. Above her was Kjer, her younger brother, Shivan, and her friend, Larizeh. Their faces were all plastered in concern. "Ari, how in Laufey's sword did you get lost in the crowd? And why were you laying down?" Shivan questioned speedily. Shivan was still about 12 years old, so he had a habit of asking too many questions. "Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me," she snapped. Shivan narrowed his scarlet eyes. Larizeh gently helped her up. Larizeh was the same age as Ari but not nearly as brave; she was always a follower, willing to stay in the shadows of her friends.
"C'mon, lads. We can't just sit here all day and waste our time examining trinkets. We have to get to the arena; the fights are starting soon and father is expecting us," Kjer reminded them.
They all nodded our heads in agreement. "By the way, did you guys hear? Ektyn the Undefeated is returning to the arena! They say he's the biggest, baddest warrior you'll ever see. Not to mention his gigantic ice club. I mean like, did you even see the size of that thing? It's humongous!" Shivan said in a loud whisper. "No duh, Shivan," Larizeh giggled sarcastically. They each trekked through the crowd to a large, domelike building that was splattered in religious murals. Instead of the ordinary ice-blue bricks that made up a great portion of Utgard, the structure was constructed out of orange clay bricks, giving it a rundown look.
The entrance doors were wide open, festival visitors flooding into it. "Dont worry- Father told me that we were in seats 178 to 181, so we'll be right next to the throne," Kjer explained. The ceiling of the dome was made of open chains, enabling any objects to fly out of the arena roof. Searching for their seats, Shivan noticed a change in the warrior dugout; instead of 30 seats- one for each participating warrior of the day- there was 31. Ari and the rest soon noticed the miscounted seating. Why would they do that? Is something wrong, or what? Ari pondered on the thought of one extra fighter. What could possibly happen? Would there he an unexpected appearance or special guest? Had something gone wrong? What came next was something that would change Ari's life forever.
"Take your seats, citizens! The fights will begin shortly!" roared Miraak, the king of Jotunheim and also Ari, Shivan, and Kjer's father. Ari pushed through the isle, then to her row, which was already full of Frost Giants. Her friend and brothers followed closely behind her. Surprisingly, there were only two seats open. One random citizen had stolen one of the seats.
"Um, Kjer, i thought you reserved three seats for us," she questioned without looking back at him. "I did. Or, uh, I thought I did," he answered slowly.
"Excuse me, sir, but this seat was reserved for us," she politely told the man in her seat.
"What? That guard over there told me this was my seat."
"Well, as the princess of Jotunheim and daughter of Mirrak, I command you to hand over your seat to us three. I believe that these are our official seats."
"Excuse me, is there a problem, m'lady?" a nearby guard asked. "Why yes, there is. This man refuses to give up his seat to me even though we reserved these three seats."
"Actually, he may have a point. Your seat isn't over here, it's down there" -he pointed to a spot in the dugout- "in the warrior zone." Absolutely impossible, she thought, Why do I have to go down there?