Bloodfall Arena

by J. A. Ludwig

  The cloaked man nods. “He’s called Blood King because he’s able to use the forbidden Blood Magic. He can take away another’s magic and kill with a single touch to the heart.”

  Chapter 66

  Yme struggles to be free of Klaeon but his strength ebbs away. The feeling triggers a memory of the last time they fought. He remembers his rage blinding him, making it easy for Klaeon to overpower him. He remembers Klaeon’s hand closing on his throat and his strength fading. He remembers his magic fading.

  Having his magic pulled from his body terrifies him every bit as much now as it had then.

  The alien presence fills him, searching inside for where his magic is hidden. Even his most secret places, places he can’t access on his own, are invaded. The presence finds what it’s seeking and withdraws, taking magic and strength with it. In a panic, Yme strikes out at Klaeon, but his blows are weak.

  Klaeon laughs. “You can’t fight me anymore.” His reddish-brown eye glows red and his hand tightens around Yme’s throat.

  A roar surprises Klaeon. He turns; Tanith plunges sharp fangs into his thigh. Screaming, Klaeon tries to kick the beast away. But her fangs are embedded deep in his flesh and muscle. Tanith drags him away from the edge of the roof before releasing him with a hiss. The cloaked man uses the moment to move next to Klaeon and stab him in the shoulder. Klaeon glares but manages to keep his grip on Yme’s throat.

  Yme’s vision darkens as less and less oxygen enters his lungs. A shadow appears behind Klaeon and grabs the Blood King’s arm. Klaeon’s hand releases, and Yme gasps in deep lungfuls of air. Yme’s magic flees from Klaeon, returning to its place inside of Yme. The force of it knocks him to the ground. Simultaneously, his strength returns, and he scrambles back to his feet. Tanith stands beside him, growling at Klaeon.

  Yme is shocked to see that Aya is the one holding the Blood King’s arm. Klaeon’s hand hangs limply at the wrist, but his attention is on Aya. A wide smile forms on his face, and Yme sees the terror filling Aya. Klaeon whispers something to her and she releases his arm. Klaeon grabs her with his other hand.

  The cloaked man kicks the back of Klaeon’s knee. The Blood King falls to the ground, blood pouring out of his wound. The cloaked man brings the knife down, aiming for Klaeon’s hand holding Aya. Klaeon releases her. The cloaked man changes course, grabbing Aya and pulling her clear. The knife stabs again into the same spot on Klaeon’s shoulder and the Blood King yells in pain.

  Running towards Yme and Tanith, the cloaked man motions his hand ahead of him. “Move!”

  Yme stares at Klaeon. My fire didn’t return yet. I have to get it back. I can’t let him slip away. Yme takes a step, but Tanith bites on his clothes and tugs him back.

  The cloaked man stops in front of Yme, handing Aya off to him. “You can fight him another day.”

  Yme stares at Aya. Her body trembles. She rubs her shoulder where Klaeon had grabbed her and Yme understands. She felt it, too. She felt the other presence try to force itself inside of her.

  Aya grabs his hand in hers. “Daniil and Kylii are waiting. I would never abandon you.”

  The anger in Yme’s heart disappears, as the words he spoke to Aya are said back to him. Had she truly thought he was abandoning them?

  The cloaked man leans close. “There is strength in knowing when to retreat.” The stranger hurries past Yme, followed by Tanith. Yme hesitates before he and Aya follow the group across the roof.

  Yme creates a flight of stairs from the roof and they hurry down. He spies Klaeon struggling to his feet. The Blood King’s furious wails fill the night. Dark red fire erupts from his hands and flies towards the group, chasing them down the stairs. Yme forces the dark magic away using his wind, but a small ball of flame hits him in the still tender side. The flames burn his skin, causing Yme to yelp in pain. He feels something else move across his skin, draining his strength. Yme uses the last of his energy to close the roof access before he collapses. The cloaked man grabs him, and, with Aya, helps the exhausted Yme hobble, with Tanith leading the way.

  Outside the Arena, they run as fast as they can, considering Yme’s injuries. They slow only when Tanith needs to sniff the air, searching for the scent of those who escaped before them. The Khorgoi leads them out of the city towards the mountains.

  Yme turns his head to watch Bloodfall Arena disappear behind them, a sight he’s dreamed of for ages. The pain in his side fades as his strength leaves him. His eyelids droop and soon the world around him goes dark.

  Chapter 67

  Aya readjusts her grip on the limp Yme, taking in the cloaked man helping her hold him between them. The hood of the cloak casts a dark shadow, and his mouth is covered by a cloth, making it impossible to see the man’s face. But the man’s voice is so familiar to her. She can’t be sure, but her heart tells her she knows this man.

  The rough terrain challenges their ability to balance the limp Yme. Tanith navigates, her snout low to the ground. She stops suddenly and her ears perk up. Tanith’s inhales as she smells the air. The Khorgoi leaps into a sprint, catching both Aya and the man off guard.

  They try to catch up, but soon the beast is gone. Voices and a light ahead quicken their pace. Praying it’s the rest of the group, Aya understands Tanith’s excitement. The escaped slaves and former Arena workers wait for them, sitting on boulders, and treating any who were wounded during the escape.

  Daniil and Kylii leap from a boulder and take Yme, now completely unconscious, from Aya and the cloaked man.

  Aya grabs Daniil’s arm. “Take him to Skara. He may have internal bleeding.”

  Daniil nods and the brothers quickly take Yme to the healer. Aya collapses to the ground and tries to calm her breathing. Blood King Klaeon’s words echo in her mind. “We haven’t tasted Life Healer in so long.” The words chilled her to the bone. Aya could hear another voice in Klaeon’s own. And the presence she felt when she sat in the private box... trying to force itself inside her, trying to find her magic. If the cloaked man hadn’t saved her, would her magic have been taken away, like Yme’s fire?

  The cloaked man sits on a nearby boulder and watches the group celebrate their escape. Aya stares at him, noticing a second dagger on his belt. She recognizes it.

  The man pulls the dagger, with hilt, free from his belt.

  “This is yours.” He doesn’t ask. He knows it to be true.

  “Who are you?” Aya asks.

  The man raises his hands and pulls the hood and cloth covering his mouth away, revealing the familiar black hair and blue eyes. Aya chokes back a sob.

  “Jaxon?”

  The leader of the Black Caravan nods and holds out her dagger. “You thought I forgot about you, didn’t you?”

  Aya nods, taking the dagger from him. As she grabs it, she spots a bracelet on Jaxon’s wrist. She recognizes the beautiful silk and her mouth opens in shock. Grabbing his arm, she moves his wrist closer to make sure she’s not seeing things. But there it is. The woven bracelet made of four colored silks.

  “My bracelet.” She stares into Jaxon’s eyes. “I thought you sold it?”

  Jaxon shrugs. “I never intended to sell it. I knew if any of the other men in the caravan saw you wearing it, they’d steal it for themselves.” He carefully unties the bracelet and hands it to Aya.

  “Thank you.” Aya holds the last treasures from her parents close to her chest. “I never forgot you.”

  Laughing, Jaxon sits down beside her. “I’m glad to hear that. After Seera nearly killed me, I realized my heart wasn’t in slave trading anymore. Truth is, it’d never really had been.”

  Aya reaches up and touches Jaxon’s cheek.

  He flinches at her touch, but doesn’t pull away, confusion filling his expression.

  “How are you here? How did you know where to find us?”

  Gently taking her hand in his, he lowers it back to her dagger. “I saw your first fight. I was truly impressed. I watched you fight for survival and kill that beast. I watched your victory agai
nst the Brüdel, and that’s when I heard rumors of a possible escape. I knew I needed to help.”

  “Why?”

  “An attempt to make up for some of the things I’ve done to you and the others I brought to that awful place.”

  “What about your caravan? Your men? Aldur?”

  “I’d never let him go off on his own,” Aldur says from behind Aya. She looks up into his familiar face and at the group gathered behind him.

  “You led them here?” Aya asks.

  “I did, missy. Spotted ’em running for the mountains. The Blood King may’ve claimed this city, but he doesn’t know the land as well as those of us who grew up here.”

  Jaxon nods at Aldur and he walks away. “I disbanded my caravan. To be more exact, I gave it to those who wanted it for themselves. Aldur and Fleance were the only ones who decided to stay with me.”

  “Fleance?”

  “Ah, you probably never knew his name. He was the young man who brought your food and water every day.”

  “The Archer.”

  Skara interrupts them, grabbing Aya’s hands tightly. “Something serious is wrong with Yme.”

  Aya’s heart drops as she stands. “What?”

  “I can’t heal him. Something is blocking my magic!”

  “Lingering effects of the Blood King’s power,” Jaxon says. “He was hit by that dark fire.”

  Aldur and the Archer—Fleance—return with Yme and lay him on the ground in front of Aya. Daniil, Kylii, and a few others follow. Meanwhile, Rava, Mava, Bern, and others who traveled with Aya gawk at Jaxon in shock. Some expressions are filled with terror, others with rage.

  Aya catches Dolus Otho staring at Jaxon. He didn’t expect to see his best slaver here.

  “You should heal Yme first. Then we can all talk,” Jaxon says.

  Aya looks down at Yme. “But my magic is blocked.”

  “You’re a Life Healer.”

  The certainty in his voice keeps her silent. She kneels down and places her hands on Yme’s chest. She feels it, the block. It reminds her of the presence surrounding Klaeon, but weaker. It covers Yme like a second skin. Aya feels it draining his strength.

  She hesitates, then tests her magic, gently urging it down her arms to where her hands touch Yme’s skin. As soon as her magic touches the dark magic, it evaporates. Relaxing, Aya reaches deep into her magic. Some she sends across Yme’s body to rid him of the dark magic. With the rest, she heals him.

  There isn’t the old sensation of energy draining, or the cold building within her. Aya realizes how much stronger her magic has become while she was in the Arena. Was it truly only a few months ago she could barely heal a broken leg? But even as she ponders this, exhaustion fills her. A strange noise tickles at the back of her mind, so faint Aya wonders if she’s truly hearing it.

  Yme opens his eyes, gazing up at Aya. He carefully sits up. “We escaped?”

  Aya nods and places a hand on his shoulder. Her magic returns to her as the last of his wounds heal. “You still have all of your magic? Klaeon didn’t take any of it?”

  Yme lifts his hand and a stone rises. He uses wind to throw it and pulls water from Aldur’s water jug. He puts the water back in the jug and shakes his head. “He didn’t take anything.” He holds his hand palm up and concentrates. His expression becomes grim. “But I didn’t get my fire back.”

  “You’re lucky he didn’t steal all of it. Fighting the Blood King without all of your magic is dangerous and reckless,” Jaxon scolds.

  Yme turns his attention to Jaxon still sitting on the boulder behind Aya. “Good thing you showed up when you did, then.”

  “Jaxon Parth.”

  “I know who you are. People say the leader of the Black Caravan bleeds blood black as the death that follows him. You sold many slaves to the Arena.”

  Jaxon smiles and bows his head. “I’m honored you’ve heard of me, Yme Gurek. The stories are spread far and wide of the Rare Kind with four elemental magics. Well...three.”

  Yme frowns and stands. “Why did you help us?”

  “For her.”

  “A lot of people are interested in her. Many want to kill her. What makes you any different?”

  Aya stands between Yme and Jaxon, placing a hand on the former’s chest. “Excuse me. Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. If you need a reason to trust Jaxon how about two? He helped me find you and his men helped our friends get away from the Arena? We can trust him.”

  She sees the struggle in Yme’s eyes. She knows he’s trying to think of an argument, a reason for distrust. She makes sure the expression on her face erases those thoughts from his mind.

  Taking a calming breath, Yme crosses his arms over his chest. “So, how are you going to help us?”

  Jaxon stands, a smile growing. “I know a place we can go for a little while. There’s an oasis town at the end of this canyon that the Blood King doesn’t know about. Or if he does, he doesn’t care enough about it to station any of his soldiers nearby. The town will give us shelter, food, maybe clothes.”

  “How far?” Aya asks.

  “Two days on foot.”

  “And after that?” Yme asks.

  Jaxon’s smile widens. “We’ll talk about that after we get there.”

  Epilogue

  Blood King Klaeon slumps in his private carriage in silence. He rubs his chin with one hand and reads from a parchment in his other. The writing on the report is nearly illegible, having been written quickly.

  An attack in the south has taken out another of his scouting groups. Opinions are circulating that Klaeon is wasting men sending groups that far south. They don’t understand why I need men down there. It couldn’t matter less to me what they think.

  He crumples the report, which immediately bursts into flames. He throws the residual ash out the window. He winces and curses as the shoulder wound the cloaked man gave him stings. He glares at the dagger responsible for the pain, sitting in a glass box across from him. When he finds out who that cloaked man is, he will personally execute the bastard along with that traitorous beast that bit him.

  Knocking on the door of the carriage, Teron calls, “My Lord.”

  “Enter.”

  Once Teron climbs in, he kneels on the floor before standing. “My Lord, we’re almost ready to depart.”

  “Very good. Make sure everything is finished quickly and thoroughly. I don’t want to have to clean up another mess.”

  “Yes, My Lord.” Teron holds out a black envelope. “This was on the carriage.”

  Klaeon raises his eyebrows. “Well, I haven’t seen one of these in a while. Did you see who delivered it?”

  “No, it was affixed to the door with wax when I approached. I checked with all the guards and no one saw anyone approach. Should I punish them for their failure?” Teron’s hand tightens on the hilt of his sword.

  Shaking his head, Klaeon takes the letter. “No need.” He turns it over, but there’s no writing, only a small, symbol-shaped indent on the front. He opens the envelope and scans the letter inside.

  A smile spreads across his face. “Get several of your best men together, Teron. It seems our favorite Shadow Watcher has some interesting information for us. He’s infiltrated the escaped group of slaves containing the Rare Kinds and knows where they’re going. I want you to follow them, and kill them all.”

  “All, My Lord?”

  “Except for the Life Healer and the cloaked man who wounded me. I want you to bring them to me alive. I want the pleasure of killing them myself.”

  “And the beast that attacked you?”

  “I want its head.”

  “Yes, My Lord.” Teron bows and leaves the carriage.

  Klaeon rereads the letter and looks at the envelope closely. He tries to burn it, but the material doesn’t burn. It changes from black to red and writing appears on the envelope. He reads the writing and lifts his head.

  “Teron!”

  Teron appears at the door of the carriage. “My Lord?”<
br />
  “Before you leave, I’ve got something to give to you. Once you’ve gathered your men, return to me.”

  Teron bows his head and leaves, closing the door behind him. Klaeon places the envelope next to him. A sharp headache causes him to gasp and grab his head.

  “Not now,” he growls. The pain increases, but eventually fades. He opens his eyes and leans his head back. “We’ll have the Life Healer soon. You can feast on her magic all you want.”

  His reddish-brown eye glows a deep scarlet, the color of coagulating blood.

  About the Author

  J.A. Ludwig received a BA in Theater Technology and has been fortunate to work for two theaters in Southern California. She is a proud techie who feels more comfortable behind the scenes dressed in black than on the stage. Since she was young, she's been lost in her imagination or in books. If you want an insight into her mind, you can check out her blog, A Joy on the Updays.

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