#Ritual I overcome. I am indomitable. Ritual of Strength, Bringer of Chaos series by Kayelle Allen. Performer Nik Nitsvetov @nitsvetov #PietasFans #SciFi

I overcome. I am indomitable.

In this scene from Origin of Pietas, as Pietas is healing from catastrophic injuries, he's literally at the mercy of Six, the mortal who'd captured him. After nearly a year and a half trapped inside a lifepod, Pietas's once-perfect body is little more than grime and filth loosely gathered around emaciated skin and broken bones. Six tells him that the shuttle that delivered them had pushed Pietas's pod out the door and let it fall, and then shoved himself after it. His parachute had been little help, but it did break the worst of the fall.

Excerpt from Origin of Pietas

They'd shoved Six out of the shuttle? Someone had dared to force one of his men to-- Pietas caught himself. Six was not his. He owed no loyalty. Had sworn him no oath.

Not yet.

"Let me cut these clothes off you, Pietas. They're ruined."

"Good...riddance." Broken and scratchy, but getting his voice back was like taking a step off the high dive into the pool. Exhilarating.

Six grinned at him. "Welcome back."

"Missed...words."

"I've missed having an answer when I talk." He smiled, but then sobered. "I'm showing you my knife. Let me take it out of its holster."

It hung at his side and he released it, then placed it on his palms.

The full tang blade was black with teal trim. Those colors embellished the uniforms worn by Pietas's troops. The serious end was a good five, five and a half inches, Terran. The same length took up the handle. It curved to fit the hand and had a butt shaped for hitting. Pietas had often carried one. You could pound with it. If no other weapon was handy, with the right angle and the kind of force an Ultra could wield, it would bash in the brains of an enemy. The blade had a mild drop point, serrations that began halfway down and looked thick enough to do good work around a campsite. Not the best for skinning or gutting. A solid defensive knife if attacked and not what you'd carry for attack, but Six could have used it to kill him permanently while he was asleep. Cut him up and burned him. Ghost Division had been trained to kill Ultras.

Pietas looked him straight in the eyes. "You--" he coughed "--did not kill me."

"One warrior to another, I'm pledging I won't use this weapon, or any other, to do you harm."

"Why?"

"Back there, back home, it was my duty to kill you. That's not my duty any more."

"What now?"

"My duty is survival."

"You think...that buys your life?"

Head down, Six remained still for a long moment, the knife on his outstretched hands. At last, he looked up, mouth in a straight line. "I spent the last year finding out who you are. What I was taught about you doesn't jive with the man I've come to know. You're not a mindless killer. You have more courage than anyone I've ever met and more honor than ten men. After what I did to you, if you wanted to kill me, I wouldn't blame you." He gave a firm shake of his head. "But I will not kill you, Pietas."

"You show your enemy mercy?"

Six squinted at him. "I give no mercy to enemies. You are not my enemy."

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