MANIAKES
(The Tyrant Born of Fire and Shadows)
Recap of Chapters 3–5
The prophecy of the Oracle drove King Arthelion to betrayal. On the day of battle, Maniakes was torn from his mother's arms and cast into the river. Found by a farmer of Olusuis, the boy was raised in foreign lands. Yet even in childhood, signs of unnatural power marked him—his strength unnatural, his anger fierce, and whispers in his dreams promising him greatness.
Chapter 6 – The Warrior's Training
The boy grew into youth like a blade tempered in fire. Deymar, though only a farmer, had once served as a soldier in the wars of Olusuis. He taught Maniakes not to plant, but to kill.
By the age of twelve, the boy could strike a moving target with a spear at twenty paces. By fourteen, he could best grown men in wrestling, his hands like iron bands. The villagers whispered that no ordinary child could be so strong, so relentless. Some crossed themselves when he passed; others muttered that he was born of demons.
But Deymar silenced them.
"He is my son," he growled, "and he will bring honor to Olusuis."
Yet Deymar could not silence the voice that haunted Maniakes' dreams. Each night it came closer, clearer.
"Strike harder. Show no mercy. You are not bound to these fields, boy. You were forged for war."
And though Maniakes never told his father of the whispers, he obeyed them. His strikes grew sharper, his training more merciless, his hunger for power insatiable.
At sixteen, he stood taller than most men, his body carved with muscle, his eyes burning with an unnatural fire. Deymar, proud yet wary, looked upon him and thought: This boy was not made for the plow. He was made for thrones.
But thrones demand blood.
Chapter 7 – The Blood Oath
It was during the Festival of Blades, when the young warriors of Olusuis tested their strength before the elders. Maniakes entered the ring, his chest bare, the crowd jeering at the farmer's son who thought himself a warrior.
One by one, challengers came against him. None lasted more than moments. His fists broke jaws, his spear shattered shields, his roar silenced laughter. By the end, the arena was stained with blood, and Maniakes stood unbroken, eyes glowing faintly in the sun.
But victory did not bring him joy. Instead, rage boiled inside him—rage without a name.
That night, standing before the river where he had once been found, he cut his palm with a blade and let the blood drip into the current.
"I swear by my blood," he whispered, voice trembling with fury, "I will bring ruin to those who cast me away. I do not know their names, but I will find them. And when I do, I will burn their walls, slaughter their warriors, and carve my throne upon their bones."
The river carried his oath into the dark.
And somewhere far away, in the depths of shadow, the unseen god who had whispered to him laughed with delight.
Chapter 8 – The First Hunt
Word of Maniakes' strength spread through Olusuis. Yet whispers turned to fear when a beast began stalking the outskirts of the village—a great black wolf, larger than any horse, its eyes red as embers. Warriors set out to kill it; none returned.
The elders spoke of curses, of spirits sent by vengeful gods. They forbade the youth from leaving the village walls.
But Maniakes did not fear. The voice in his dreams had spoken to him:
"Slay the beast, and the people will bow to you."
At dawn, he took only his spear and entered the forest. The villagers watched him vanish into the mist, some whispering prayers, others curses.
Hours passed. Then a roar shook the trees. The battle was unseen, but the forest echoed with snarls, the crack of bones, the scream of steel.
At last, Maniakes emerged. His body was torn with scratches, blood dripping from his arms. Across his shoulders he carried the wolf's carcass, its jaws still locked in death.
The villagers gasped. Children wept. Elders stared in silence.
He dropped the beast's body before them.
"Olusuis need not fear," he said coldly. "Not while I draw breath."
The crowd erupted—not with cheer, but with awe. The boy was no longer just a farmer's son. He was something more, something dangerous.
And in that moment, Maniakes felt the weight of his destiny tighten around him like chains of fire.
The people feared him. The gods whispered to him. And his blood oath burned within his heart.
The first hunt had been won. But the true hunt had only just begun.