Bloodfall Arena

by J. A. Ludwig

  “If given the choice, I’d help as many as I could. Isn’t that what you were spouting to Daniil and Kylii before your first fight?” Yme asks.

  “So?” Aya is slightly surprised he overheard the conversation between her and the twin brothers.

  Stifling a laugh, Yme leans close to her. “How is pissing off Yvette helping her?”

  “I think it was smart,” Sanna from Cellblock F says. Her brown hair is ratty and encompasses her face like a mane.

  The man attached to her, Darin, crosses his arms and tugs gently on the chains connecting them. “Sanna, let them be.”

  “Think about it. Yvette’s mad, but now she’s considering what you said. She killed her partner, and who knows how many more times she’s going to have to fight? Our opponents aren’t going to get any easier. She’ll soon wish she still had Chaput with her. This is all a show.” Sanna waves her arms above her head, her bones long and thin. “All of this is a show for the false king. And we are nothing but kindling to ignite the fire. Yvette tossed in a stick. It was stupid.”

  “Let them be,” Darin says angrily.

  “Everyone calls the King false,” Aya echoes, and Sanna abruptly turns, her fingers going to her mouth. She chews on her already short nails, her wide eyes moving erratically as she follows the fight.

  “I get it,” Yme says, understanding dawning. “You purposefully angered Yvette by insinuating she’s weak so she would consider why you think that. You want her to realize that killing her partner was a mistake.”

  “She’s right, you know. Yvette won’t survive without Chaput,” Sanna whispers loudly, then falls silent as her partner tugs roughly on the chains.

  Aya shrugs. “Sometimes people need to hear the truth, but most times they need to be smacked over the head with it.”

  “Pangur? Pangur!” Ziv’s terrified voice echoes over the continuing fight.

  Pangur has slumped on the bench. Blood drips onto the ground, a large pool spreading around his leg. His face holds an expression Aya knows all too well. The pale face with blue lips and the dark circles under the half-lidded eyes...she’s seen it too many times.

  The closest Arena worker shakes Pangur by the shoulder, but it’s too late. He doesn’t move. Aya watches his chest. It does not rise and fall.

  “Oh, Gods, Pangur!” It’s unclear whether Ziv’s terror-filled voice is because of her partner’s death or the fact she’ll now have to fight alone.

  The bell rings and Aya looks out to see that Lili and Géroux stand triumphant. The Arena workers open the cage and remove Pangur’s body from the waiting area to throw it with the remnants of Quin and Chaput. Three dead on the side of the slaves. Seven dead on the side of the fighters.

  She wants to believe no more will die. But she knows it’s a false belief. This is all a show. All of this is a show for the false king. And we are nothing but kindling to ignite the fire.

  Chapter 38

  “It would appear,” Dolus Otho’s voice interrupts, “one of our slaves took more damage than we realized. Pangur of Cellblock C has died from his injuries. But don’t count the Arena slaves out! Lili and Géroux of Cellblock E performed valiantly and overcame their challengers. Who shall face our next challengers, Bruter and Minna? I feel another repeat performance is coming, eager audience!”

  The air tenses among the slaves, recalling that their fates were in the hand of chance.

  Dolus Otho reaches into the bowl and pulls a stick out enthusiastically, a true showman. “And here it is! Our next match will see the return to the cage of...Cellblock A, Yme and Aya!”

  The audience cheers loudly, excitement thundering through the air. The other slaves relax, relief filling them.

  Aya is the first to stand, desperate to move away from Pangur’s pool of blood. Yme walks next to her, his expression calm.

  “You’re not upset?” he asks as the gate to the fighting arena is opened.

  “Was there any doubt we’d have to fight twice?”

  Yme grabs her arm and stops her from entering the cage. “I was talking about Pangur. Your expression was...”

  “I knew, as soon as he sat down, he was going to die from that leg wound. There was nothing I could do, with our magic blocked. What were the chances they’d let a Healer help him? They don’t want us healed. They want us worn down.” Arena workers head for them, to force them into the cage.

  “No, I mean, your expression was like everyone else’s,” Yme says. He moves her into the cage before the workers can get too close. “Everyone else’s in this place.”

  She stares at him. “So it bothers you when I appear to show the same indifference to death as those who’ve been here longer? Like you?”

  His calm expression flickers, and she regrets her words.

  “No, what you saw was helplessness. I wore the same expression the day my parents died; I assure you.” She pulls her arm free of him and grabs a sword from the wall.

  She feels his eyes on her, but she refuses to look at him. Instead she focuses on the two men across the cage. One is a large man, Bruter, with muscles bursting beneath his skin. He wears metal on his hands to increase the damage of his hits. The other man is smaller and wears no visible weapon, though the gloves on his hands are missing the thumbs.

  The gates clang shut behind the them and Yme stretches his hands out, preparing. Aya feels a tingle of magic in the air and gasps rise from the audience.

  Water sluices up from troughs placed around the walls of the arena and enters the cage. It gathers around Yme, circling him.

  Aya sizes up the two men as they wait for the bell. Bruter smiles eagerly and nods to the smaller Minna. Minna raises his hands in front of him, clasps his hands together, his thumbs touching, and Aya’s eyes widen. She yells, “No!” but her voice is a tiny, ineffective buzz against the beast that is the Arena.

  The bell rings. Minna presses his thumbs to his chest and the magic filling the air stops.

  The water surrounding Yme falls to the ground. He curses. He tries to summon his other magics, earth or air, but nothing happens.

  Grabbing a spear from the cage wall, Yme readies for the large man now running towards him.

  Bruter moves much faster than Yme or Aya expect. He reaches Yme quickly and raises his fist, ready to bring it down on Yme. Aya feels a rush of energy inside of her. The air around him is vibrating with magic, and she knows Yme can’t even sense it.

  Yme raises the spear to stop the blow, but Aya tugs on the chains, moving Yme out of the way of Bruter’s punch. As the man’s fist misses and hits the ground, the floor cracks, magic filling the space Yme previously occupied.

  Yme glances at Aya in surprise. “His magic isn’t blocked. How did you know?”

  Shaking her head, Aya eyes Minna. “I’m not sure. You can fight without your magic, can’t you? Or would you like me to take the big guy?” She smiles briefly.

  He grips the spear in his hands. “I think I can handle him.”

  Bruter attacks Yme, forcing him and Aya to move apart. The chains on their arms and legs strain at the distance, and Bruter stomps on the metal links. The sudden jolt throws both Yme and Aya to the ground. Bruter throws his fist at Yme, but Yme is able to roll clear of another magic-powered punch.

  Bruter throws another punch with his other hand, but Yme again rolls out of the way, clambering to his feet to clout the large man in the side of the head with the handle of the spear, knocking him back. Yme uses the moment of confusion to kick the legs out from under Bruter. The large man slams into the ground onto his back. Yme stabs the spear at Bruter’s chest, but the large man blocks with his metal-covered fists. The tip of Yme’s spear hits the metal and breaks off from the pole.

  Yme doesn’t hesitate and pulls a knife from Bruter’s belt. He buries the blade into the larger man’s side before moving away from Bruter’s flailing fists.

  Aya does her best to make sure the chains connecting her and Yme don’t interfere with his fighting, but her eyes constantly return to Minna
, the magic blocker. He focuses on the fight between Yme and Bruter carefully. His hands shake slightly at the strain of blocking Yme and Aya’s magic but letting Bruter’s run free. It must take a lot of concentration and focus to block two out of three magic users.

  Aya reaches down to where her magic lives. The familiar feeling of a block stops her from reaching too deep, but it’s different than when the Arena workers block her magic. It’s far weaker. She pushes a little and feels her magic turning beneath the block. She studies Minna’s face, expecting to see him reacting to her push.

  But Minna is utterly focused on Yme and Bruter.

  Bruter is back on his feet, keeping Yme on the move. Yme uses the spear pole to keep Bruter’s fists far from him, using the wood to knock at the wrists. But then Yme steps on the broken tip of his spear and stumbles. Bruter takes advantage and punches low. Yme manages to dodge most of the hit, but a corner of Bruter’s fist swipes his side.

  The magic behind the punch makes it feel like a landed blow, and Yme grabs his side with one hand and gasps. Aya can’t tell if any serious damage was done, but judging from the pained expression on his face, the chances are high.

  Yme recovers and grabs a new spear from the wall, this one made completely of metal. He dodges Bruter’s punches and circles the man. Aya does her best to follow him, keeping the chains loose enough so Yme can fight.

  Bruter lunges forward, catching Yme off guard and lands a punch in his gut. Yme gasps and kneels on the ground. He grabs his side but screams as soon as he touches it. Before he can recover, Bruter grabs the chain connecting Yme and Aya’s arms. He smiles and Aya feels his dark magic thrum in the air.

  Bruter takes a deep breath and turns, rearing his arm back. He yells and throws with magic-enhanced strength at both Yme and Aya across the fighting arena. They slam into each other, hitting the ground and dropping their weapons.

  Loud sounds of shock and surprise make their way from the stands to the fighting floor. Klaeon leaps to his feet, a large smile on his face. He applauds with excitement and laughs loudly before shouting something to his second in command, Teron.

  Aya tries to sit up, but a shooting pain in her right arm stops her. She rolls onto her side and uses her good arm to drag herself towards Yme, who is sitting up, holding his left arm. A large lump disfigures his shoulder, and now she understands the pain in her right arm. The force of Bruter’s throw pulled the chains hard enough to dislocate both Yme and Aya’s shoulders. Yme’s gasps are short and quick. He tries to move his arm, but a pained yelp escapes him.

  While Bruter and Minna gloat, she stops crawling, places her hand on her right arm, and closes her eyes. She reaches deep down to her magic, feeling it pounding against the block. She emboldens it, and it leaks through. She pushes it to numb the pain shooting through her. Slowly the pain fades, and she finds the strength to sit upright. She grabs Yme’s left arm, ignoring his cries of protest. Sweat beads up on her forehead as she forces her magic into his arm. She sees the dislocation and her magic numbs the area. With a deep breath she pops the bone back into place, something she’s done hundreds of times without her magic, but never one-handed. She quickly checks for damage caused by the injury, but nothing is torn.

  Then she sends her magic to where Bruter’s hit landed. She sees it, broken ribs tearing into skin and muscles. She draws more of her magic from behind the block and heals Yme quickly. She knows the price of going this fast will be great, but she can’t let him fight in such a condition.

  Aya opens her eyes and sees the look of surprise on Yme’s face. He moves his arm around cautiously before shoving her away, hard. The shock of the sudden push knocks the wind from her lungs, but she realizes why he pushed her away as Bruter’s fist slams into the ground between them, creating a small crater. Then he goes in for another punch, aiming for Aya. She rolls away, narrowly avoiding the hit.

  As she rolls, she angles herself to push against the ground, popping her own arm back into place. With her shoulder no longer dislocated, she uses her magic to heal the small wounds caused by the injury. She climbs to her feet and moves away from the large man. She spies Minna, the magic blocker. Aya grabs a knife from the sand and throws it at him.

  Minna flinches as the knife flies towards him, and he tries to clasp his hands together to stop the blade. As soon as his thumbs leave his chest, the ground beneath him opens up and he is swallowed up to his shoulders. He can no longer block the magic.

  With a triumphant yelp, Yme grabs the metal spear and swings it at Bruter. The large man grabs the spear in his hands and laughs. Aya grabs the sword she dropped and stabs him in the back with the blade. He yells and releases the spear. Yme steps, running the spear into Bruter’s chest. The man falls back, burying Aya’s sword further into his back. Blood pools on the ground beneath him.

  “I concede!” Minna yells from his encrusted spot, over the audience’s roar of approval.

  Aya’s knees shake beneath her and she falls to the ground. Yme walks to her side and touches where the ribs had been broken. He stares down at her.

  She smiles up at him. “I thought you could handle him?”

  He laughs as the bell rings. “Your magic wasn’t blocked?” Yme asks as he and Aya return to their seats. “Just mine?”

  Shaking her head, Aya motions towards the Arena worker. “He wasn’t as good at it as the Arena workers. I think it was because he still needed to let Bruter’s magic through. It took too much concentration.”

  “But how did you know Bruter’s magic wasn’t blocked?”

  Earth magic users free Minna and fix the ground enough for the next fight.

  “Some magic vibrates the air.” Aya looks at Yme. “You can’t sense it, can you?” She knows the answer but wonders how aware of it Yme is.

  “No. But Daniil and Kylii have spoken about it before. They say magic fills the air around me. Not just my air magic, all of it. They described it like that sense before lightning strikes.” He stares at his hand. “I’ve tried to sense the magic of others, but I’ve only felt it once.”

  “When was that?” Aya asks.

  Yme hesitates. “When my fire was taken away from me.” His eyes darken and he clenches his hand into a fist.

  As much as her curiosity wants her to ask more questions, she feels a stronger urge to give him time.

  Chapter 39

  Dolus Otho announces the next fight: Cellblock F, Sanna and Darin, facing more members of the Bloody Butchers. The combatants appear evenly matched. Sanna’s odd movements make it easy for her to dodge attacks. Strange balls of light form in Darin’s hands and he throws them at the fighters. Aya has never seen this magic before. One of the balls hits the arm of one of the Bloody Butchers. His sleeve catches fire, but he’s able to rip the cloth off before the flames reach his skin.

  The fight goes on much longer than any of the previous fights. Despite herself, Aya feels her eyelids droop, sleep threatening to overpower her. She leans back against the railing, her head resting on the top wooden beam. She closes her eyes and listens to the sounds of the audience and those fighting.

  What are Daniil and Kylii doing? Are they worried for Yme and Aya? What about those others who arrived with her?

  Then her mind wanders far from the Arena. What’s happening back in her home? Has Oula Village recovered from Jaxon’s attack? Is Iria all right? So many questions flood her mind, an oddly welcoming distraction from her current predicament. But as she thinks about her old home, other memories come to her—painful ones of her parents.

  The few times her parents used their magic in front of her were rare, and only due to true emergencies. The reason became clear when her father became ill. Aya’s mother never used the term Life Healer, but she told Aya the magic inside of her was special. And the price of being special was steep.

  After her parents’ deaths, Aya feared the magic that had yet to appear within her. Would the same illness that took her parents from her lead to her own death? Then Elder Mircien suggested she learn na
tural healing from Iria. Accompanying Iria on many of his calls to heal encouraged her to rethink her fear. Her parents knew the consequences of using their magic, but it never stopped them from helping those in need.

  Someone leans against Aya, and she opens her eyes. Yme has fallen asleep. His head is resting on her shoulder and his breath dances on her skin. His arms cross his chest even in sleep.

  Aya glances around at the other slaves and notices a number have also taken the time to catch some sleep. Her eyes move to the fighting arena. Sanna and Darin are still fighting, small cuts the only sign of struggle. The two Bloody Butchers are breathing heavily, blood from their own injuries covering their arms, legs, and faces.

  Even the audience has lost most of its energy. Aya sees many walking around the seating areas, taking the time to find food and drink. Many yawn, stretching their arms over their heads. A few even huddle together, seeming to play a game to pass the time. The sun is high in the sky, ready to soon begin its descent.

  Aya spies Dolus Otho sitting above Blood King Klaeon’s private box, his head resting on his hand. He eats fruit from a gold bowl, but his attention seems to be more on the man below him.

  Blood King Klaeon scrutinizes the fight with a boredom similar to many in the audience. His second in command, Teron, is nowhere to be seen; instead one of Klaeon’s other guards is standing in the other man’s usual position. Klaeon angles his head so he can speak to Dolus Otho, and the announcer immediately perks up. They speak only for a moment before Dolus Otho nods vigorously and the two return their attention to the fighting.

  Aya’s arm tingles uncomfortably but fears moving it would wake Yme. She shifts slightly, attempting a little relief.

  “Concede! Gods, we concede!” One of the Bloody Butchers walks to the gate on the opposing side and bangs the hilt of his sword on the metal.

  The bell rings louder than previously. The slaves jump at the sudden noise. Yme, realizing he’s using Aya as a pillow, sits up quickly.