by T. C. Edge
Dom wanted to look away, imagining that only Jaeger's desire to prolong the bout, to put on a show, was keeping his girl alive. Every time his blade got near, or nicked Kira's skin, drawing blood and gasps, Dom shuddered and looked away. Like her hair and armour and billowing robes, her skin was now turning red, a dozen little cuts painting the pale portions of her frame. Little by little, she was being consumed by crimson. And when her death came, she'd lie there on the sand, The Red Warrior, through and through.
Another little slice met her cheek, Jaeger's sword so quick, nipping at her flesh. Blood trickled and the people reacted, though Kira flung herself straight back into the fray. Dom couldn't look any longer. He shut his eyes and turned them down.
"No no no, you're watching every second of this," oozed Vesper's voice.
He heard the clip of a finger, and a set of strong hands reached around from behind him, opening up his eyelids and holding his head in place. He couldn't move. He couldn't even blink. All he could do was witness the slow defeat of this girl he so adored.
"That's it," whispered Vesper, enjoying the torment. "You keep watching. It'll all be over soon enough, don't you worry."
Kira was still fighting with all she had, a beautiful tigress battling to the last. She was leaping about, trying to figure Jaeger out, moving him around as she did with Shadow, employing every trick she had in her locker.
A kick of sand attempted to blind him, but he was gone before it even spread his way. She attempted to conceal her throwing knives behind false attacks, flicking from the shade and sending the blades at his neck. He merely smiled and tapped them off using a sword, letting them get near enough to sniff his skin before dismissing them with such nonchalance.
Kira was playing all her hands now, and none were paying off. She hadn't even managed to graze his skin, his flesh yet to be cut during the games so far. The blood warmed her own, spreading from multiple wounds. He was a cat with a mouse, toying with his prey. And up in the gallery, Vesper was loving it.
She clapped her hands with each sniping attack, beaming like a giddy child on Christmas morning. Her voice blurted out on occasion too, so enamoured by this wondrous fighter who was set to give himself to her, to serve as only second to Ares as her most formidable warrior. It was Jaeger's intention, clearly, to prove his worth, and stand in line as Ares' number two. And when the time came, to step atop the pile, as the ultimate defender of the throne.
It was torture, for both Kira and Dom. Her early hope had been quenched, and she was being taken apart by a freak of nature, his powers defying the laws it set. She'd fight on and on until he determined the time was right, and when he did, Dom would have to watch, unable to look away, as she was executed right before his eyes.
The time was coming, speeding towards them. Jaeger was clinical in his assessment of how long to drag out any fight, doing so for long enough to ensure it appeared, to the crowd at least, that his opponent might still have a chance. He'd done his homework, and knew how these things worked, and what the Empress wished to see.
The time was now.
With Kira still fighting until her final breath, her skin weeping red, Jaeger unleashed a terrible flurry, battering her to the ground until she ended on her knees. He swept right around her back, took a fistful of her wild red hair, and lifted her neck up so that Vesper could see.
He drew a knife, and reached out, holding it to her throat.
The crowd hushed. Kira was spent.
The Empress stood from her throne, drawing out this most joyous of moments.
She held up a hand, and arched her neck across to look once more at Dom. He remained firmly in the grasp of the guard behind him, his head pointed right at Kira, his eyelids held open. They were watering now, going misty.
Vesper purred at the sight.
"Here it is, Domitian," she whispered, the entire stadium so silent now. "This is what happens when you betray me."
She turned her eyes back to Jaeger, awaiting her command. Her hand stayed aloft, ready to fall. It moved down an inch.
And then, suddenly, it stopped.
Cut by the silence, a voice came from behind her. It was deep, almost musical, spreading across the air with a magical tune.
"Hello Vesper," it said. "Have you missed me?"
Her hand still raised, she spun on her axis, the voice rustling a memory from the depths. She stared at the man stepping beneath the arch, a looming shadow that she'd feared all her life.
She shook her head.
"No...it can't be," she whispered. "Polus..."
Polus smiled, his white teeth bringing light to the gloom, and illuminating the two young gladiators to his side.
"It is," he said. "You didn't think I'd be gone forever, did you?"
121
Polus stood at the threshold to the gallery, Finn and Gwyn standing to his side.
They were dressed in their battle robes and armour, Finn in blue and Gwyn in green, and Polus in a simple set of white robes, shining bright between his two companions.
Behind them, through the passage and staircase, and out through the entrance to the stadium, a path of destruction had been laid. Guards lay in disarray, scattered and unconscious. And Finn had been the chief architect.
As Vesper looked upon her old foe, struggling to truly believe it, her voice shrieked out across the air.
"Get him! Kill him!" she cried. "Kill them all!"
Around the gallery, the six Imperial Guards on duty turned as one. The lords and ladies stepped to the sides, cowering as the silver-glad soldiers moved forwards into a line, lifting their spears and ready to strike as one efficient unit.
Dom's head, suddenly free of one of their grip, turned to look upon the faces of his two young gladiators, and the great telepath between them.
He, like his mother, could hardly believe what he was seeing.
How? How had he come? Were the rumours true? Had he been running an underground network all along in Southside? Had he come to complete his task, and destroy the woman who'd wronged him?
So many questions fluttered, not least regarding the reappearance of Finn and Gwyn. Yet he had no time to consider them, his attention taken by the feeling of overwhelming power spreading from the archway. He'd become used to the signatures exuded by the likes of Ares, and his mother, but this was something different, something new. It was Polus, an irrepressible flow of pure energy gathering around his aura. And yet, it was more.
It was Finn.
Dom looked at the boy now, and saw him as though covered in a soft yellow glow. A light seemed to shine out of him, his blue eyes brighter than ever, his tanned skin perfect and unblemished. Something powerful, something devastating, had been awoken inside him. Unleashed.
Dom looked upon Finn, a boy he always believed had great potential, and knew that he was changed.
Now, Vesper was shrieking again, a piercing, ugly sound entering Dom's ears. The Imperial Guards obeyed her commands, working towards the trio as they drifted slowly forwards into the gallery.
"Kill them! Now!" Vesper shrieked.
The guards were in position. They had their foes outnumbered. As one, and in a sudden movement, they surged onwards, spears flashing out in a bid to impale the three intruders. The razor sharp tips thrust at flesh, greedily seeking blood.
They made it only halfway before stopping in mid-flight.
Finn's hand was raised aloft, his palm open. The six guards appeared to be frozen, their bodies stuck, quivering as they attempted to break free. Then, within only a split second, Finn's fingers were crushing into a fist. As as they did, all six men went flying.
As one, the force of Imperial Guards shot off into the stadium, high into the air, tossed over the edge of the gallery and spiralling out into the dead space between the stands as the watching crowd looked on.
They were flung with such speed and velocity that spears were dropped, swords slipping from sheaths, knives from belts. They flew a hundred yards into the air, spinning off in all d
irections, before coming plummeting down upon the sand below, bodies crunching into the grit and raining from the sky.
A moment of sheer shock took hold of everyone who saw it. Dom stared at Finn, his project contender, and saw a boy of unfathomable strength. Polus' hand came down upon the sailor son's shoulder, and his lips crafted themselves into a smile.
He looked at Vesper, one brow raised.
Now, she stood alone, only Ares to her side.
As the strange commotion went on above, so Kira sprung to action below. She couldn't quite tell what was happening, but something had snatched up Vesper's attention, causing Jaeger to momentarily stay his hand.
His knife hovered in front of her neck, ready to cut her through when the command came. It never did. Vesper had turned, and something was going on in the gallery. Then, all of a sudden, a press of energy, like a sudden blast of wind, spread from the balcony above, and a half dozen silver-armoured Imperial Guards came raining down from the sky.
The odd turn had caused Jaeger's blade to drift a little from Kira's neck. As one man came crashing heavily to their side, she took her chance and reached out, grabbing his wrist, twisting, and dislodging the knife from his grip. In a flash, she was gone, dashing away from her foe and putting some space between them.
He barely seemed to care, at least for a moment. His eyes were locked to the gallery, to the Empress, wondering just what was going on.
Kira knew she had to take advantage. With another body landing heavily to Jaeger's left, she sprung at him from the right, his own dagger in her hand, slipping in as stealthily as she could. She was close, his neck open for attack. Her dagger came, hunting him down. But he was ready.
He spun around just in time, bending his back and drawing his soft flesh away. He weaved and ducked, flowing away from her to gather his senses. A great anger worked up onto his face.
Kira took a step back and shuddered. Now she'd done it.
Pulling out his dual swords, he stepped forwards to her once more. She drew her scimitars in response.
"Nice try, Kira," he growled. "Now it's time to end it."
He rushed in, and Kira braced for the impact. Her energy was waning, her ability to hold back the storm fading fast. She wouldn't last much longer. And what was going on up there?
Lifting her blades, she prepared for one final assault. Jaeger's twin swords were near. They came hurrying right for her, all pretences discarded. He was no longer awaiting the Empress' command. He needed to finish things himself.
She parried and moved, dodging a few strikes. One drew all her attention, requiring both of her blades to stop. Another was arriving elsewhere, stabbing right for the side of her neck.
She saw it at the last minute, and too late. It was about to cut right through her, until a flashing light sparked, another sword deviating its course and sending it flinging wildly from his grasp.
Jaeger stumbled back, brows pinching. His sword whipped through the air and went cutting into the sand ten metres away. He looked up at Kira, and then saw the girl by her side, dressed in green armour and robes and with short, black hair.
Kira turned to look at her, face crafted in amazement.
Gwyn merely dropped a wink and raised a smile.
"I thought it was time I saved your life for a change..."
As Finn had worked to dismiss the incoming Imperial Guards, Gwyn's eyes had been on Kira. She'd flashed to the side of the balcony and looked down, seeing her re-engaging in combat with Jaeger. She was quick to judgement. She knew Kira didn't have long.
Her eyes had spun to Polus, who gave her a nod.
"Go to her," he said.
So she did.
Jumping over the side of the gallery, she fell right onto the stairs below, cutting down through the lowest tier. The crowd, entirely confused by the entire event, hardly knew what to make of it as she hurried right through them, rushing to the wall surrounding the battlefield, leaping it quickly, and sprinting to Kira's side.
She made it just in time, her sword brandished and flicking Jaeger's away. She may just have rushed out to her death. But she didn't care.
She'd do it for her friend.
As the three combatants now began fighting upon the sand, a silence and strange still took hold upon the royal balcony.
Dom, wrists and ankles chained, could do nothing but stare at the bizarre turn of events, still marvelling at Finn's new powers, still dumbfounded by the appearance of the great and mighty Polus.
It appeared Vesper was similarly vexed, trying to suppress the mania and obvious fear that was spreading through her. She had only one protector now, the rest either dead or severely injured from their falls upon the sand.
But that protector was Ares.
His presence gave her confidence, no matter the situation. She managed to contain her wild shrieking and turn her voice to a creeping, unpleasant calm.
"You think you've won?" she rumbled, trying to lift a smile. "You think defeating six of my Imperial Guards is victory?"
Polus laughed as she spoke, dismissing her sudden poise. His hearty, heaving chest sent a tremor around the gallery and beyond. Vesper quivered at the musical timbre, such a joyous noise, so full of mirth.
"Oh, Vesper, you think it's only six?" He turned his head a little to the side. "Many others have been defeated. And more have been turned..."
"Turned?" growled Vesper.
"Oh, yes. You think your little tricks can stop me? You think the blocks you place in their heads are enough? Oh, dear woman, I can slip past those, silent as a ghost. They are no hindrance to me."
He raised a hand, and clipped his fingers. Immediately, several Imperial Guards stepped from the shadows behind, moving up the passage and towards the archway.
Vesper saw them, shaking her head violently.
"No! You kill him! Kill Polus now!" she shouted.
The men did no such thing. They merely stood in place, serving a new master.
"They're mine now, Vesper," whispered Polus. "Oh, you should have killed me when you had a chance. You tried, oh how you tried, but it wasn't enough."
He smiled again, and Vesper looked right at Ares.
"You kill them all," she growled, her eyes manic once more. "Kill them all. Kill them all, Ares!"
Her voice was a command, setting light to the fires within him. Through repetition, the order grew stronger. Dom could see the doubt in Ares' face beginning to drift away. His eyes began to turn dark, and the flowing, pulsing power started throbbing deep within.
He turned and stepped forward, looking upon Polus.
"So, this is Polus," he said. "This is the man who has inspired the legend."
Polus bowed proudly.
"In the flesh," he smiled. "I hear you're quite something, Ares. The greatest living warrior in the world. Yet a slave, and shackled by a tyrant. It is not becoming of such a mighty figure to serve evil, my friend."
Polus' words were magic. They filtered into Ares' head, causing his doubts to rise again. Vesper knew. She wailed her commands out once more.
"Kill him, Ares! Kill him!" she cried.
Ares stepped forwards.
"This is only going to go one way, friend," said Polus, still standing his ground and unmoving. "You cannot win this fight."
"I have never lost," countered Ares. "I do not know how."
"Well, that may be true. But there's a first time for everything. And," said Polus, peering close now, his eyes intensifying, "I can see it in you. You want to lose. You want to be set free."
Ares stiffened. Vesper shrieked again.
And Polus went on.
"So come at me," he said. "I invite you in willingly."
The great telepath opened out his arms, exposing his chest. He wasn't armoured like the others. He was dressed as a wise old sage, not a gladiator. He never intended to draw a sword, just like he never needed to in days gone by.
With a final, piercing squawk from Vesper, Ares pressed forward. His sword came out, hovering by his
side. It began to lift, rising to meet Polus' flesh. But as with the rest, he stopped right before him, his body caught in time and space.
Finn, standing to Polus' side, held his hands out, gripping Ares with his telekinetic powers. He needed all his focus, all his control, to hold back the mighty storm heading their way. Only Finn now could stop him, hold him for those moments. And they were precious, the difference between victory and defeat. It was always the plan to draw Ares in.
And now, Polus went to work.
With the head of the Imperial Guard caught in a snare, the telepath stepped quickly forwards and reached out to take a grip of his temples. He stared deep into his eyes and flashed right into his mind. He saw a world of constraints and locked doors, of traps and wires, and webs of deception. He saw years of manipulation within the great man's mind, Vesper adding layer after layer to keep him loyal as her mania grew wild.
Polus saw it, and began stripping it away. He called out into Ares' head as the man struggled to free himself of Finn's grip, casting away the spells and shackles, dismissing all the lies and deceits.
He saw beyond, to the man Ares truly was. He saw, as with Finn, a man of pure heart and good deed. A man who wished only to protect others, to vanquish evil and fight for good. He saw a man who'd been turned into an agent for the use of great malice, his mind ever filled with whispers spread from a demonic soul.
He saw it all, and he drew Ares back from the shadows, pulling him into the light. As Finn called out, shouting that he couldn't contain him for long, Polus heard only the echo as he wandered through Ares' mind, taking such joy in his turning.
This wasn't like the other guards he'd taken that day. They had come under swift, but only temporary, command. He had no time to remove the shackles within them. He had merely slipped through Vesper's security and issued new orders. To free them properly, further work needed to be done.
