Name: Evander Evengeledi

Age: 18

Sex: Male

Appearance: To say Evander is intimidating is an understatement. He stands tall at 6'3 in a body that is laden in muscle, if someone didn't know better they would assume that he was a soldier. Evander has smooth skin the color of the ground and eyes that are the color of the sun. His hair curly, charcoal colored hair is chopped close to his scalp. Evander's almost regal facial features are clear indicators that his ancestors came from the wilderness South of Nubia.

Personality: On his best days Evander is not incredibly relatable, on his worst he is downright robotic with a mind that only seems to be able to function and process black and white concepts. To those around him in the artistic and freethinking Thebes, Evander was simply assumed to be stupid. That may as well have been the case, however Evander also has many traits the other residents of Thebes lack, such as a strong sense of honor and the willpower of an ox. In many ways he is naive to the world, unable to grasp why someone wouldn't play by the rules or why they would go out of their way to torture someone. He is incredibly efficient and to the point in everything he does and is hardly ever fazed by anything.

Perhaps if Evander had lived far into the future he would have been diagnosed with a mild form schizophrenia, however this is not the case so Evander is left to think that his delusions are in fact real. There isn't much variety to his delusions, in fact they seem to settle into one form that he refers to as 'The Black' who is a personification of everything Evander is not.

Background: Evander was born into a large family of Thebe's plebeian class. Evander never got along with the majority of his city-state, he was just too different. He did have a few people he saw here and there however one could hardly call any of those a real friendship. Evander was planning on joining Thebe's army, however he was selected for the games instead. 

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The Black was a white man. When I say white, I don't mean the healthy color of a peach that colors so many of the faces around me, I mean the color of the snow that glistens upon the mountain tops.

He was just as cold as the substance as well, I watched him sneer as his eyes skimmed over the festival around my like a rock skipping over the water. "Look at them, Evander." He sigh placing his hands on his hips as his frighteningly charcoal colored eyes settled upon me. "The gods are trying to make up sending us to the slaughter by stuffing us with cake and wine, you know they don't have to do this. If the gods saw fit they could snap their fingers and the beast would be dead."

I looked toward my ever present companion and glowered at him. "The gods have their reason, I'm positive. Who are we to question their will? Besides, it is an honor to sacrifice myself for the greater good." I said with disinterest as my eyes fell upon one of the muses who was mingling with the other tributes in the center of the garden. Her wide blue eyes caught mine and I looked away quickly not wanting to draw attention to myself.

"Is it? Or is it just what you've been told to think?" The Black asked cynically, his eyes twinkling wickedly as he observed my features closely for even the slightest change in expression.

I only stared at him coldly, perhaps if I had not been dealing with the creature for as long as I have I may have flinched or have begun to question myself, however that was not the case. I was completely unphased and after a second I looked back toward the festival only to see the muse I had made eye contact with walking toward me.

I wasn't quite sure which muse she was, then again I had never been the most religious man in Thebes. The muse walked with an air of delicate passiveness as she gradually made her way toward me, taking a little extra time here and there to look at the flowers. I mentally wished she would veer away from me, I was hardly in the mood for talking. "I'm Erato," she said finally when she stood only a few yards from me. "I am the muse of romantic poetry."

I nodded my head in a gesture of respect. "I am Evander Evangelidi of-

"Thebes." She cut me off with a warm smile, "one of my favorite city states. I am never bored when I study the poetry that comes out of your home, it is utterly exquisite." Erato closed the gap between us, sitting down on the stone bench beside me where The Black had been sitting. His features contorted as he ducked out of the way as she lowered herself gracefully into the seat. I tried to relax, however I found it uncomfortable to be sitting beside such a powerful being.

I frowned at her, "I hate to disappoint you, Erato, but I am hardly an artist let alone a poet." I explained, expecting her to get up and leave with my confession, which on some level disapointed me.

Erato laughed, "Darling, I can see that. You look as if you are a warrior, perhaps a hero even. Tell me, why don't you join the celebration?"

"Erato, you are too kind." I said, trying to hide my genuine surprise at the compliment. Her smile broadened, I debated briefly on how I should answer the second half of her question before I decided that honesty was my only true option. "I suppose I just don't like the tension. Please don't be mistaken, I am honored to be chosen as worthy for sacrifice, however I am still human. I'm nervous and honestly I just wish to get this over with. I- I don't want to mingle with the people who will die around me one at a time until no one is left.... I'm sorry. I just don't want to form attachments and die brokenhearted." I felt a giant weight left from my chest, however it was quickly replaced by another as I realized the graveness of explaining myself to a goddess.

Erato tucked a long blonde hair behind her ear and cocked her head to one side in curiosity. "Humans are such strange and beautiful creatures." Her eyes twinkled as they left me and drifted to an orange flower that was growing from the base of the bench that we sat upon. Her long elegant fingers twisted around it before she plucked it and began to twirl it absentmindedly. "Evander, attachments make life worth living. Love comes in many shapes and forms, in it's most common form it is passion between two people. However there are many cases in which love is not as conventual, for example in some cases a human loves their country and in others humans are completely devoted to their art." Abruptly she stopped twirling her flower and peered toward me. "So here is my question, what is it that you love?"

It was my turn to look away as my heart flourished with confusion, finally I looked toward her and shook my head helplessly. "I have no idea."

Erato nodded and extended her flower to me, hesitantly, I took it. She rose to her feet in the same elegant manor that she had approached me in."Well, I hope you figure out what you love before you are killed. Everyone deserves to love." She didn't wait for a reply before she turned her back on me and began her absentminded stroll back to the festival.

"Well wasn't that an interesting conversation?" The Black sat back down next to me and watched Erato for a few moments before he turned to me, grinning madly. "I know what you love, you love everything wrong with the world. I think murder thrills you, I think manipulation sends shivers of pleasure down your spine and I think you want to rule it all. You want to become exactly what you have convinced yourself to loath

I said nothing, I only looked down at the small orange flower that I clasped in my hands and envied its simplicity. 

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The gates to the labyrinth looked like jaws.

I could see the looming golden rimmed archway long before I could see the shrubbery that grew around it or the steely black stairs that led downward into a midnight colored oblivion. As the chariots got closer I began to make out the little details that only served to heighten the discomfort that I already felt, such as the unreadable prose that was scrawled in pulsing blue light or the bones that lay scattered among the vibrant colored flowers that seemed to cover the landscape like a blanket.

I was well aware that my nervousness that was triggered by my first glimpses of the labyrinth was nothing compared to what terror I would find lying within. As it turns out, I was not the only one aware of this. The chariots that were carrying us to labyrinth came to a screeching halt about a hundred yards from the gates. The horses began to buck and whine, their oval shaped ears pinning themselves flat against the horse's long, flowing manes.

The soldier in the chariot with Eirene and I, cursed loudly. He raised his large arm that was braided with muscles and hit the horse's hindquarters. The horse yelped loudly, lurching forward a step only to back right up again. The soldier grunted in irritation as he lifted his arm to hit the horse again.

"Sir," I found myself speaking before I was quite aware of what I was going to say. "If you keep hitting the horse, you will only bruise it. Eirene and I have no problem walking, I'm sure." I found my voice begin to lose its conviction as the soldier turned to me in irritation.

A flash of red caught the corner of my eye as Eirene turned to look at me for the first time since we had boarded the chariot. Her thin red eyebrows arched themselves sharply on her forehead, "I have a problem with walking!" Eirene snapped, tearing her accusing gaze from me and redirecting it toward the charioteer. "It really can't be that bloody hard to make a horse move!" She got up and tried to push the soldier out of the way, but he refused to budge snapping something at her.

I didn't hear what it was.

"Oh my, a brawl? I do love brawls." The Black spoke up from behind me, his voice saturated in amusement. My shoulders sunk. The Black had remained silent all throughout the morning. His absence had been refreshing, for once I had felt as though I wasn't being judged or mocked for every move I made. I had known it was too good to last though. 

***Unfinished and Un-Submitted****