Welcome to Gehenna

[A Multi-POV epic fantasy adventure featuring a fully rendered artwork in every chapter! Updates every Friday] Survival is a word that can mean many things. It could mean the literal struggle to survive against starvation in a forest crawling with daemons so desperate that they might even be willing to eat you. The struggle to keep going as your clothes become tattered and your body is covered in bruises and breaks. It could mean the political struggle to keep your head afloat as a militaristic entity tries to mould you into the perfect solider against your will. The desperate game of cat and mouse as you're dragged into a conspiracy you never wanted to know about while the woman behind it all holds the key to finding your lost brother over your head. It could mean the struggle of allegiance as you're turned into a tool for the greater good of a city you've never been to before in the hope, the slimmest of hopes that maybe, just maybe, when you complete your mission they'll be willing to reward you with the key to finding your missing sister. The struggle against the knowledge that you have already run out of time but she's okay, she has to be okay. It could mean the internal struggle of being a prince destined for sacrifice who just wants to live. Is it really so wrong to want to live? Welcome to Gehenna. Survival is the name of the game down here. Excerpt from Chapter I: Thwack! “Go! Go! Go!” The rounded stone soars through the sky as Godien stabs his blade into the soil and runs. His gilded boots slam against the dirt pentagram drawn into the soil as he races past the first, the second, the third base—arm outstretched as he finally approaches the second to last– "You're out!" "Blast it!" Godien curses, his toe making contact with the fourth base mere seconds after the stone-keep catches the rounded stone in his mitt. The knight laughs, “Apologies, your highness!” “Liar,” Godien retorts, tone sharp despite the grin tearing his cheeks asunder. He does a cursory stretch before jogging back towards his teammates, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't fibbing a sin, Sir Diarmad–?" “Prince Godien dir Fearg Impireal!” Every knighted man, woman, and daemon in-between either freeze, or startle. Godien stumbles over a rock and falls face-first into the dirt—it's almost a miracle that he doesn't end up eating it too. He feels the shadow of his younger cousin envelop him as he pulls himself to his knees...