by J. A. Ludwig
Talkative Yme slowly fades away as the day draws closer.
The day when loud, thunderous bells signal Klaeon’s return. Aya senses the tension building in the cellblock as all slaves stop what they’re doing to listen.
“His royal highness is back,” Kylii announces, spitting on the ground. Daniil hits his brother. “What?”
“I’ve told you not to spit inside the cell.”
“Sorry.”
“That means the Brüdel are here, too.” Aya tries to keep her voice steady but fails.
Yme walks to the bars of the cell. “Yes, it does.”
Gripping the bed beneath her, Aya takes a breath. Time’s up. Are they ready? Can they win?
“This is our chance,” Yme says, his voice low.
“Chance for what?” Daniil asks.
“After the fight, we’re going to escape this place.”
The silence following Yme’s statement is heavy. Aya stares at his back. “Escape? Is that even possible?”
Kylii scoffs with a confused look. “Are you insane?”
“Even if we survive the fight, Klaeon is here with a small army,” Daniil adds.
“A dozen men, give or take a few,” Yme clarifies.
“Right, a dozen men with weapons and the city guard with weapons and the arena workers with weapons. Oh, and magic blockers. With weapons.”
“We would have to get through the Brüdel.”
Yme turns to face them. “And we will.”
“How?” Daniil, Kylii, and Aya ask in unison.
“The slaves with no magic. We have to convince them to fight with us. We have to show Klaeon we won’t fight against each other.” Yme meets Aya’s eyes. “And I think we’ve already got that covered.”
Daniil and Kylii stare at Aya and nod.
Aya furrows her brow. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Those who came here with you already pledged their protection. Those you’ve fought alongside and healed have as well. If we use that to our advantage and rally the others together, that leaves only the Brüdel to fight.”
“And how does that help us escape?” Aya asks.
“With his best fighters dead, Klaeon’s men will have to focus on protecting him. With the slaves united, we can overpower the arena workers.” Yme smiles. “And if we win, we may not have to worry about the workers.”
Chapter 52
Arena workers bang on the bars of cells, filling the cellblock with loud clanging. Aya sits up quickly at the noise, the yells of others torn from their sleep echoing her thoughts.
At the center of the cellblock, Seera addresses them “Today is the day. As you know, our King has declared non-magic users, assisted by our King’s men, will fight magic users. But you won’t be the first show. Such an event requires several preliminary games to work the crowd up before you make your entrance.
“The magic users from other cellblocks are ready and waiting, whom you’ll soon meet. You will all be cleaned, fed, and may use this extra time for rest or practice if you so desire. When you hear the bells ring three times, return to your cells.” Seera aims her final words at Aya. “Enjoy your last few hours in this world.”
The workers open the cells and return to their posts as Seera leaves the cellblock. Slaves are hesitant to leave their cells. Nerves are high and a new feeling fills the air.
Suspicion.
Magic users watch those without magic, wondering if they will be enemies. Aya notices several eyeing her. Cal’s father has kept quiet since his argument with Mava, but Aya catches him angrily mumbling.
“Ooh boy, those are some nasty looks you’re getting,” Daniil says.
“They’re scared. I’m an easy target to focus on before the fight. I’m not naïve. I know what they’re thinking.”
“Kill her and it might be over sooner,” Kylii says.
“Kylii!” Daniil throws a pillow at his brother’s face.
Catching the pillow, Kylii throws it back at Daniil. “What? She said she knew what they were thinking.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud.” Daniil dodges the pillow and grabs Kylii, wrapping an arm around his brother’s neck. “C’mon. Let’s get some food and head to the training grounds.”
Kylii struggles against Daniil, angling to face Aya. “Will you be joining us?”
“Go ahead. I need a minute,” Aya says.
The brothers shrug and leave the cell. Other slaves follow the brothers as they head off.
Aya leans against the bars of the cell, raising her shaking hands in front of her. She clenches her fists and sighs. Klaeon’s assassins, the Brüdel. What kind of fighters are they? How many will they be facing? Would the other slaves join them to fight?
“You need to eat.” Yme sits next to Aya. “We don’t know how long we have before they call us to the Arena. The last thing you want to do is go into a fight starving.”
“How long did it take you to stop being afraid before every fight?”
“I never stopped being afraid.”
Aya eyes Yme with a smirk. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
Shaking his head, Yme holds up his left hand so she can see the shakes. “I’m afraid every fight. No matter what it is. If you stop being afraid, you start making mistakes.”
“You hide it very well.”
“I’m not hiding anything. Everyone chooses not to see it. It wouldn’t fit their image of the Arena’s top champion if they realized I was shaking like a child.”
Aya smiles at him. “Knowing you feel fear like the rest of us makes me feel better.”
“Should I take that as a compliment?” Yme asks.
“Yes.”
Aya eats more than she expected. Then they arrive at the crowded training grounds. Exhausted trainees rest with their elbows on the seats behind them, their faces flushed. Blacksmiths stand outside of the forges, watching the overly excited exercises.
Aya and Yme find a spot to sit and watch Daniil and Kylii training the usual group; Mava, Rava, Bern, and Cal. The timid, fresh flesh are gone. They’re slaves of the Arena, but now, a fire burns in their eyes.
Mava and Rava work together, learning from the brothers how to watch each other’s back as they fight. Rava’s weapon of choice is a spear, while Mava excels with double blades. Cal has shown the most improvement, finding his own in swordplay. Though when his father makes the trek up to the training grounds, Cal keeps to the bench, afraid to disobey.
After training, Mava and Rava grab Aya to go to the baths. They’re joined by a few others, but still the baths are empty enough for the three to be relatively secluded. The water is hot, steam filling the air. Aya lowers up to her shoulders in the hot water. Mava and Rava sit back against the stone wall and stare at Aya.
“There are rumors spreading about an escape,” Rava says.
Aya is taken aback at Rava’s bluntness. “An escape? Where did you hear that?” We just talked about it yesterday. Are Daniil and Kylii spreading it to others?
“Small rumblings of what may happen should we be successful in defeating the Blood King’s assassins. Not sure who started it. Are they true?” Mava asks, moving closer to Aya.
“I wouldn’t know.”
Rava moves to the other side of Aya. “The only ones who would even think about escaping would be from your cell.”
“If I said yes? What would that mean to you?”
Mava and Rava eye each other before moving in front of Aya. Each take one of her hands. “We never told you this, but we come from a village just outside Oula Valley. But no matter where you were from, we would follow you wherever you go.”
Chapter 53
The bell rings three times.
The focus found in the training grounds is replaced with nerves and hushed whispers. Arena workers separate magic users from the other slaves. Then those without magic are ushered out.
“They don’t want us working together,” Aya observes.
“They’re too late,
” Yme says.
Aya watches Bern, Mava, and Rava follow the rest of those without magic. The three glance at her before they walk out of sight. She knows what Yme means. There may be a few who won’t stand together, but most of the non-magic users are willing.
“Do you think it’s going to be enough?” Aya asks. “Do we have a chance if we unite?”
“Strength isn’t necessarily measured by the size of muscle or the power of a sword,” Daniil says from Aya’s side.
Kylii moves to her other side. “The strongest are those with hope. They can win even against the worst odds.”
She nods as a memory flashes: Jaxon facing the bandits in the canyon alone, armed with only a sword. She remembers how she thought the odds impossible for him, but he defeated the entire bandit group alone. Even when she decided to help Yme against the Volacerta...she had no doubt that, if she helped him, they would win against the beast.
The Arena workers return to take the magic users to the armory. The recent training affects their selections, as many have found preferred fighting styles and know what they need to protect themselves. Armor that allows greater mobility, and less cumbersome weapons.
Aya grabs a long knife and hides two smaller knives in her arm cuff. Without knowing what kind of combatants the Brüdel are, she needs to be ready for anything. She finds armor to cover her chest and upper thighs, focusing on protecting areas she knows could be fatal strikes.
Magic users from other cellblocks are led into the armory. Aya spies Leid meandering past the wall of weapons. His eyes search the selections, never landing on anything. The number of magic users from other cellblocks surprises her. The impression from other slaves had been there weren’t many in the other cellblocks, but the number of magic users nearly doubles.
Some try to disguise hostility when they meet her eyes, straining to keep the frowns hidden. Others smile with excitement to meet the one they’ve heard about for months. They all know who she is.
They’re led to the same long tunnel leading to the arena floor as the non-magic users. The two groups are kept separate, against opposite walls from one another. The final sounds of a game echoes through the tunnel: the roars of beasts, then human screams.
The crowd cheering above sounds much larger than even the tournament audience. The walls shake with yells and stomping feet. The ending bell strikes and the tunnel fills with nervous energy. Workers enter the Arena to clean the ring and clear the animals.
Aya looks down the line of magic users. Tristan, Skara, and Bon stand on the other side of Daniil and Kylii. Cal stands next to them, his eyes on his father across the way, who is glaring at her. She is startled; the way in which the twins had asked about her parents when she first arrived led her to assume magic always ran in families. But here Cal and his father stand, separated by the empty space down the middle of the aisle. It might as well be an ocean, a universe, between them.
Bern, Rava, and Mava smile and nod at her. Others nearby do the same.
Yme leans close. “You’ve already recruited most of them without even trying. We only need to convince the rest.” Aya feels the hand on her back. Yme pushes her forward and she barely catches herself from falling. Out of the corner of her eye she sees an Arena worker approaching. Yme steps between her and the worker, slamming the man into the wall with air magic. The two groups murmur with confusion.
Yme murmurs, “Now. Convince the rest.”
Aya eyes the worker who always blocks their magic. His hands are at his sides and he nods to her. She takes a deep, exhilarated breath. The other workers freeze, unsure.
Aya seizes the opportunity. “We’re being pitted against each other for one man’s enjoyment.” All attention moves to her. “A man who makes others search the lands for slaves. A man who destroys our homes without thought. Now, this Blood King wants you to fight and die for his amusement. Why? Because we threaten him. The ones you should be fighting are the ones waiting for us out there. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of whatever is beyond that gate. But we can defeat it if we stand together.”
The slaves mumble, some avoiding Aya’s gaze.
“But if we fight for the Blood King, then we won’t be killed,” a man protests from the end of the non-magic user line.
“Maybe not today,” Yme steps next to Aya. “But what about tomorrow when you go back into the Arena and there are no magic users for the fighters to spend their energy on?”
“If you want to survive, then we must fight together,” Aya repeats. “Who’s with me?”
“I will fight for the Life Healer,” Bern shouts.
“We will fight for the Life Healer,” Rava says, and Mava fervently nods her head.
“The Blood King doesn’t control us,” a voice calls from the non-magic user group.
“Today,” Aya says, “we can prove we’re more than slaves.”
“This is madness!” Cal’s father throws out his arms to those around him. “You would risk your life for magic users?”
Cal steps forward, before his father. “I believe in Aya and Yme. The Blood King wants to control us. I’m tired of being controlled.” He meets his father’s eyes. “I still have a choice, and I choose to believe in people I trust. People who have proven they care about others, no matter who they are.”
The slaves echo the boy’s words, and soon murmurs of agreement outweigh the dissenters. Cal’s father shuns the defiance in his son’s face. Aya takes the boy’s shaking hand in hers and squeezes.
The workers try to regain control, but the slaves ignore them. Seera cracks her whip at the end of the tunnel. “What is happening here? Back in line, all of you!”
All eyes move to Aya, waiting to see what she will do. Taking a breath, she moves back into the line, pulling Cal with her. Yme does the same and the other slaves follow.
“There will be no more of that behavior!” Seera walks down the lines, taking in every face. “You are about to be moved into the Arena. Magic users will take their places in the normal starting position. Non-magic users, you will cross to the opposing side. You will wait for the signal, then begin fighting. Your goal is simple. Kill each other. Our King has spoken.” She stops in front of Aya and Yme, gloating.
The gate at the end of the tunnel opens as the last of the workers finish cleaning the ring. The roar of the crowd grows, filling the tunnel.
“Fight well and give the audience a good show.” Seera cracks her whip, and the workers yell at the slaves to move.
Passing Seera, Aya focuses on the magic blocker, now held by two other workers. Seera walks up to him and grabs his hand. Turning to Aya, she waves the magic blocker’s hand at her, laughing shrilly.
Chapter 54
Bloodfall Arena is completely full. Every seat is taken, hordes of people standing wherever there is room. Even the top level, reserved for the wealthy, mills with pressing crowds. Stomping feet shake the ground. Aya almost feels as if the stamping might cause the Arena to crumble down around them.
The slaves move to their starting positions, magic users on one side and the non-magic on the other. Weapons line the walls of the Arena, additional options should the weapons the slaves chose not prove sufficient.
Already seated, Klaeon surveys the two lines of slaves with a smirk. His second in command, Teron stands to his right with a sour look on his face. She wonders if the man always wears that expression, or if today is a special occasion.
“Our beloved audience! Welcome to Bloodfall Arena!” Dolus Otho’s voice fills the space, quieting the crowd. Aya sees Dolus is standing on a platform opposite the private box, his usually theatrical appearance noticeably toned down. “Today we present a unique game our most generous King wishes to share with all of you.”
The audience turns its attention as Klaeon stands and raises his hand, creating another wave of stamping feet.
Dolus Otho continues. “Today, we have already witnessed several magnificent games, but those were only a small taste of what we’ve plann
ed for you today. Magic users, non-magic users, Rare Kinds. You’ve seen these slaves fight together. Now, watch them fight each other.” He pauses for cheers as the anticipation grows.
Aya moves closer to Daniil and Kylii. The two stand close together, their eyes locked on the one gate still open. It’s the largest of the gates, its opening much higher than the others. She feels anxious staring into the dark maw. Strange sounds emerge from the dark tunnel and the others shift uncomfortably.
“Though to pit normal slaves against magic users is unfair,” Dolus Otho continues. “Therefore, these slaves won’t be fighting alone. Our beloved king has given them a gift.”
The audience begins a chant, starting soft and growing exponentially.
“Brüdel! Brüdel! Brüdel!”
The chant fills the arena, drowning out all other sound. Aya stares at the dark tunnel, wishing whatever was hiding inside would stay there.
A high-pitched scream rises from the tunnel and the non-magic slaves jump, moving away from the tunnel. The audience goes mute when an Arena worker runs from the tunnel.
Shock shoots through Aya. It’s the magic blocker. But what fills her with fear is the sensation of magic filling the air, emanating from the tunnel.
The magic blocker reaches the center of the arena before a blade attached to a chain erupts from the darkness of the tunnel, racing after him.
Before she realizes what she’s doing, Aya’s feet are already moving. She doesn’t know what she can do to stop what is happening, but she can’t stand idly by. Daniil and Kylii yell her name, but her focus is on the magic blocker.
His expression fills with hope when he sees her running towards him, but it is cut short. The blade explodes from his chest, stopping his forward motion. Blood gushes into the sand beneath him.
As he reaches towards Aya, his eyes fill with tears. “Help...me.”
