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I nod and groan at my own stupidity, at least the pain isn’t as bad as the last time I woke up.

Yay for little things . We jerk to a full stop and I sit up slowly, facing the blank faced Berserkers opposite us on the bench.

I think the only reason I woke up with all my clothes on is that Vasilisy worked as a watchdog.

Even now his eyes follow their every movement, the sweet, funny man I met disappearing, and the true Berserker peeking out.

Sitting up straight, I keep my eyes dead, not freaking out like they are obviously expecting me to.

I watch them nudge each other before they lick their lips. Morons, don’t they realise I could kill them without even moving? A part of me wants them to try and come at me, I would love to let some of this rage out .

With a disappointed frown, I watch them decide against it and slip out the back of the truck. I am surprised they didn’t chain us, but I am betting they know we aren’t stupid enough to try and get away. It’s not like we would get far with a whole army on us.

The flap is held back and an impatient looking Berserker grunts at me, and gestures for us to leave the truck.

Gritting my teeth against the pain rocking through my body, I stand up and hunch over to make my way out of the truck.

When I reach the end, before I can even step down, the Berserker grabs me and throws me to the ground.

Pushing up from the sand, I hold in my pained moan and get stiffly back to my feet to see the Berserker grinning now. Fucker.

Cocking back my arm, I let loose. I hear his nose crunch as he howls and falls back into the truck.

A grinning Vasilisy hops down next to me and faces the crowd of Berserkers as they all come to see what the commotion is.

Standing tall I face them all, it’s time they realise I am not a slave anymore. No, I am the fucking Champion.

“Anyone that touches me will end up like him, or with my knife buried in his gut!” I yell and I hear a few nervous laughs even as some take a step back, realising how serious I am.

I guess if you kill enough people, word starts to get around that you aren’t to be fucked with.

Turning, I face my once prison with fresh eyes.

The last time I left here I was a trodden down slave, now I am the exact opposite, even if I can taste the metal of the shackles.

The castle––yes, you heard me right, castle––sits on top of the hill, okay it is probably more of a small mountain.

Two tall towers reach into the scorching sky and the grey brick only reflects the merciless heat.

Sand, dead trees, and plants litter the dirt paths up to the only entrance to the castle.

At the bottom of the hill sits little houses for the Berserkers who are in the inner circle.

Looking to the left of the castle, I spot the dungeon built into the side of the mountain, I spent more time there than I care to admit.

It looks taller than I remember, but not nearly as scary.

There are Berserkers patrolling everywhere, with weapons strapped to every inch of skin.

The dirt tracks to the castle and to the road are lined with skulls on pikes and the Berserker symbol is flying high on the flags, but it somehow seems.. .less impressive.

“Get moving,” comes a hard voice from behind me, right before I am shoved with a weapon sticking into my back.

I stumble forward and start walking. Everything here is built for a purpose.

The roads allow the guards on patrol to see who is coming, and booby traps line all the other ways in and out of this land.

I remember it all like the back of my hand and I hate myself for it when my feet carry me automatically up the tracks towards the huge metal gate and guardhouse .

“Hasn’t changed, has it? I guess it’s just us,” Vasilisy says from my side, and it’s strange how in sync we are.

I look over to see him eyeing a house sadly. “Was that where you lived?” I ask and he snaps his gaze back around.

He doesn’t answer and I leave him to it, everyone has a past in the Wastes, everyone has horrors they would rather forget. I won’t push him to remember or rip open his pain just to distract me from the looming castle.

We reach it quicker than I would like and the metal gate pulls up automatically, the gears and chains cranking loudly in the quiet.

It seems to take forever for it to rise but when it does, I am pushed through and into the training courtyard.

Everyone stops and turns when they realise that Ivar must be back.

I spot two Berserkers flirting and they straighten instantly, their eyes alert and all signs of flirtation disappearing.

In fact, all the happiness seems to be sucked away and everyone turns cold and determined.

Looking around the gathered faces, I realise something else… they are scared.

They might not all support Ivar, but they are all terrified of him.

It’s in their body language, the way they hold their eyes and the submissiveness rolling off them.

Maybe Vasilisy is right, maybe it’s time for a new leader.

I just plan on it not being me, in fact, he would make a great one.

I look at him from the side of my eye. First, I need to overthrow the throne, then put him in place. Time to get to work.