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The primaeri wrote:

Clovis let out a laugh.
"Yeah...yeah...I guess I want that as well."
He shifted sadly.
"Well, I guess that's why they will stay dreams then, Grand Empress," Clovis said mournfully, "a couple of people have tried to escape from here...but they've never succeeded; I've seen them all executed in the arena."

"Oh?" Vara said, intrigued. "How did they try to escape?"

Aerlanica wrote:

As Eveline woke up, she saw Jonathan being dragged out, once again, into the hallway. He turned over his shoulder back to. Eveline and gave her an assuring smile.
"Back to the races I presume, Princess Eveline," he said with too much happiness, "I'll be back, don't worry about me."
Jonathan was pushed out of the cell and escorted down the hallway.

North south kansas wrote:

Carissa wakes up and watches Jonathan being carried off. She glances at Eveline.
"I really hope they don't kill him. Do you guys have any idea how to get out of this place?"

Eveline shook her head.
"No, I don't know. But they aren't going to kill him yet. But they will probably come close."

Fort Domination, Tyramon
The convoy approached the Palace gates. The Royal Emperor looked out the window at his nation, which he had not seen in a while. Around him in the car were several Dark Suits, sitting motionlessly, expressionlessly, and noiselessly. When the cars stopped, a Dark Suit from another car opened the door for the Royal Emperor. The Royal Emperor got out, wincing slightly in pain as he did. He put his hand to his stomach area, where Lemin had stabbed him with a poisoned dagger. It still hurt, all this time later. He grabbed his cane and walked - or, perhaps more accurately, hobbled - to the gates, where a hundred soldiers from several Generals waited for him, blocking his entry. At the front of these troops was a man in a priest-like attire. He wore long, thin robes that were blood red and black and bore the Tyramonian flag. The robes had a black hood, though it was down right now. Next to him was a podium facing the Grand Emperor. It had a document and a pen. As the Royal Emperor approached, the figure in the red and black robes spoke.
"Welcome home, Royal Emperor. However, I must inform you that your return to power is...conditional."
"What?"
"The decision to allow you to return was made by an agreement of the high Generals of Tyramon, who have formed a council, the Council of Hoods. The appointed - and anointed - me to speak for them, giving me the title of Speaker of the Council. I speak for and with the Council and direct meetings, but I am not actually a member myself. Now, the Council is requiring that you sign this document. It states that 1)you recognize the Council of Hoods as legitimate, 2)you will take no action to impede or influence the Council's decisions, statements, or actions, 3)any punishment on any member of the Council of Hoods must be approved by a two-thirds majority vote by the Council, 4)your choice of heir must be approved by a simple majority vote by the Council, 5)the Speaker of the Council shall be the one to crown the Royal Emperor, 6)the Council will conduct its own affairs, including choosing its Speaker of the Council as it sees fit, and 7)in response to any actions that the Council finds significantly damaging to Tyramon, the Council may, by a two-thirds vote, install a temporary acting Emperor - chosen by the Council - for as long as it sees fit."
The Speaker held out the pen to the Royal Emperor.
"Agree, and you'll be crowned at noon today. If you don't agree, you'll be buried at noon. These soldiers aren't just here for show."
The Royal Emperor was shocked, repulsed even, by this turn of events. He turned to the Dark Suits, but they looked down, giving no help.
The Royal Emperor grabbed the pen, hobbled forward, and signed the document.