Chapter Text
Tommy had insisted on coming to the ring, begging his mother every day and every night since he heard the news of a sacrifice. Each morning he’d wake up, fantasise about what it was like to watch it first hand. Whispers told of great and noble deaths in honour of their god, sinners who strayed from the path of the light whom had the luxury to perish in the most brilliant of manner. The troubled men and women achieving true peace and ecstasy up above in the clouds.
The first thing that caught his attention was the lack of said clouds overhead, a clear sky of a grey pigmentation. The chants as the lingering lion circled the arena, watching its opponent like a hawk. One of the elders sat at a higher booth, a quill in hand jotting down the details of the battle on vellum so this momentous occasion could never be forgotten for the years to come.
Tommy fumbled around, sticking closer to his mother as he heard the chants from the audience. They all spoke in sync, echoing the same phrase over and over. Some in the crowd's arms were up and curled into fists, demanding the sacrifice get strangled at once. Others stood relatively still, anticipation coursing through their veins for the eventual moment the sacrifice fell to the floor.
One common phrase Tommy had heard the adults whisper under their breaths during ceremonies, a prayer to the gods up above.
‘Blood for the blood god.’
The sacrifice in the middle showed no sign of backing down, standing tall and proud though equipped with only a small knife used for cutting food in the kitchens. Tommy wasn’t amused like the other children were.
In the classroom, the kids whose parents allowed them to attend sacrifices would bumble on and on about the thrill. The blonde had envisioned the most picturesque scene, completed with happy smiles and rainbows painting the skies.
The sacrifice careened forward as the predator in the ring began to charge, a lion of great prestige known for the most ruthless slaughters, so Tommy had heard. The chanting of the crowd grew louder, pleading for blood.
His eyes clamped shut, waiting for the cheers of the people once the sacrifice had finally fallen. All that was followed by the darkness was silence, Tommy timidly opening his eyes.
A lurid sight was sprawled out in front of him, the knife in the sacrifices hand now dirtied. The corpse draped on the floor with a puddle of red forming. The new predator of the ring, the sacrifice, wasn’t finished. A scream of battle that caused shivers down the spine of the entire audience, the man clawed at the carcass with the blade continued by an abrupt pause.
The sacrifice who thus far was silent and held his tongue, devoid of any words, glanced at where the church elders were sitting overhead. The men who were previously eyeing the sacrifice in pity or amusement, sipping glasses of their wine and boasting about the sacrifice being cleansed. Their eyes were bulging out of their head and mouths agape as a shaky finger pointed towards them.
“I am Technoblade...” He murmured before his voice grew louder. “Say it!”
His words bounced off the walls of the arena, the silence of a pin-drop replaced with a slow clap. The audience bustled and screamed out something new for the first time.
‘Technoblade! Technoblade!’
Tommy saw his mother’s face, mortified as she rushed to cover the eyes of the blonde so he wouldn’t see the tragedy that befell upon the animal. It was too late for that though, the child already having taken in the entire situation as the gruesome scene replayed in his head.
They toasted for the one they had called an impious sinner days before, the man who when in the lion's den dressed in rags was now dressed in a vermillion cape that draped around his shoulders. A distant expression planted on his face.
Tommy, unlike the other kids who curiously lingered around Technoblade, distanced himself to the other side of the room. He examined the small scab on the man's chin and as brown eyes suddenly locked with his own he dashed behind a pillar. This ‘Technoblade’ fellow had a crushing presence of which made Tommy’s throat close and heart pulsate and beat with a fast tempo.
He had a reputation for being a nuisance, audacious and uncontrollable. The man's eyes, calculating and cold as they seemingly examined thousands of details each second was enough to quiet him.
He scurried out the ballroom, letting out an exhale when finally reaching safety. He propped himself up against the wall, no callous men to bother him or overprotective mother to nag him for drifting from her side.
Tommy dawdled in the hallway for a few ticks before setting off back to the hall, his nerves had settled. He stumbled as he saw the scene in front of him. A few halls down he had travelled, so close but so far to the ballroom as two men blocked his way.
One was dressed in a blouse, hand clutching onto the collar of a higher-up, Sir. Missiel, whose face was turning red.
“You tactless, perverse little-“ He was suddenly released mid-sentence, tumbling down and just managing not to fall.
“I dare you to say that one more time,” Technoblade said, looming over Sir. Missiel with the same uninterested expression. “I mean, I’m certain somebody great as you could beat a lion with a kitchen knife, no?”
Sir. Missiel spat at Techno’s shoes, dragging his chubby feet along with him as he escaped the pink-haired man's wrath. “You better watch your back, dirty vermin!”
Tommy tried to flee as well, yet before he could move he was stared down by the ‘vermin’. His mind and body didn’t communicate with each other, his mind screeching at him and alerting him of danger. His body, on the other hand, stayed in one position and refused to move.
His mouth was the only thing that functioned, letting out a plethora of non-coherent words strung together. “I- ah! Maybe- think... You’re, uh- c-cool?”
His mind paused for a moment before an even louder question entered his brain. What the hell was that?!
Techno also had stopped completely, eyes wide as he pointed to himself and whipped his head behind him like he was expecting the compliment to be directed at another. Tommy, taking this opportunity, skittered away.
Technoblade never came back to the ballroom.