by Rosie Scott
“These are clear,” one of the guards said, putting my armor back under the opening of the cell.
“You may dress,” the official told me, though he read the paperwork before him with a raised eyebrow. “Where are your weapons?”
“I am a mage,” I replied.
The man chuckled, as if in disbelief. “Ookay, then,” he said, as if I were crazy. He signed off on the paper before him, and handed it to another official beside Ali. “She's clear.”
Anto and I were soon led together from the fronts of the cells to another room, where we were to wait until the start of the fight. I sat next to the orc, finding his hulking presence quite comforting, considering the circumstances. Both of us had thick handcuffs around our wrists, to ensure we would not begin fighting until we were allowed. While technically I could still use some magic despite my restraints, it was hard and inaccurate to wield without the ability to move. I was, in effect, disabled. Anto, on the other hand, could do nothing. Arm blades were his choice of weapon, and they would sit on the sidelines until he was called to battle, which I hoped wouldn't happen at all.
“How long do we wait?” I asked the orc, since he had been through this before.
“Up to an hour or two,” he replied, his eyes on his bulky hands. “They prepared the battlefield yesterday over a request. Right now, they will be letting the audience in, and they will be buying food and drinks in preparation for the show. King Adar will be arriving.”
“Ah,” I said, imagining what my friends would be going through about now.
“Is Jakan here?” Anto asked, his deep voice somehow remaining calm.
“Yes, he is,” I replied.
The orc nodded beside me. “I did not see him for so long, because the battles were the only times I could. I think he was afraid to watch me die.” He hesitated, and then asked, “Is it true you are a battlemage?”
“Yes.”
“Which element?”
“All of them,” I replied.
The orc huffed, low. “So it is true. You are the one and only. Perhaps this is the day I go free.”
I said nothing, because my body was a shaking mess.
“The others have been talking about you, in the cells. They say you are royalty.”
“I am,” I admitted. “Excommunicated, but royalty all the same.”
Anto chuckled dryly. “I have been a gladiator for years, and have met many races of people from all over Arrayis, yet that is a new one for me.” He paused. “How did you meet Jakan?”
“He stole from my friend, in Comercio, while trying to save money to free you.”
Anto was silent for a moment. It reminded me of the backstory Jakan had told us about the two of them. “Thank you for not killing him, and for ending up here, like this. It is a wonder he came across someone like you, who would come with him here.”
My heart raced even harder as I heard the muted murmur of the crowds from through the walls, preparing to watch us die. “Anto, if I die here today, I would want you to know that Jakan loves you dearly. He told us how you met, and of your relationship. He was clearly proud for not stealing while he was with you, and was immensely disappointed in himself when he went back to it. I don't want you thinking he was stealing out of malice.”
Anto nodded beside me. “I believe you. He is a good man. A changed man.” The orc's voice thickened as he spoke. “I want nothing more than to be with him again. Even if we do not succeed today, you have given me hope. I thank you for that.”
“You and Jakan are welcome to stay with me and my friends wherever our travels take us,” I replied, because if I looked forward to something, perhaps it would mean I would live to see it. “Jakan has become a friend. I know his main mission was to find and free you, so you two may do whatever you wish, but I would love to have you along.”
“I appreciate your offer, Kai,” the orc murmured. “What is your mission?”
“Travel the world, make alliances, overthrow the corrupt leaders of my home country in displays of murder and mayhem,” I rambled, my nerves getting the best of me. “The usual.”
Anto chuckled softly. “That sounds like an adventure.”
My heart nearly stopped when the door opened, and a few distracted coliseum officials walked in to retrieve us. “It has been,” I replied to the orc, my voice barely more than a squeak.
Two officials walked up to me, and another two went to Anto. I was told to stand first, because I would be the first to fight today. I heard the roars and chants of the crowd outside, but I tried not to let it affect me. I gritted my teeth, attempting to dull my ears as much as possible.
I was led out the door and to a hallway with sands waving lightly over the sandstone floors, the granules having swept in from previous openings of the last door ahead. I noticed the movements of the sands, dusting around the stone even while under the castle. There was a slight wind today, and that was in my favor. I focused on that one sliver of optimism, hoping it was a good sign. I heard Anto's heavy footsteps behind me. I'd heard the officials talking earlier about him waiting on the sidelines for Gavriel to kill me. I had been treated as an inconvenience to this fight today. The crowds were not here to see me. Very few would know I was anyone special, until my name was announced at the battle. Even then, my name would not mean much to them, for most of them were not royalty. They were here to see Anto, a seasoned gladiator, and Gavriel, a gladiator who had risen in the ranks more quickly than anyone else, fight it out to see who would best who. This was nothing but a show for the people, and I was the opening act no one asked for.
The chants of the crowd became even more intimidating as we approached the last door. I heard three syllables being repeated, over and over, and when the door was finally opened to the sands, the words became clear.
“Gavriel! Gavriel! Gavriel!” It was screamed with such a fury that it felt like the word whipped harshly against my face in the very air. The crowd's energy was rabid.
Another advantage, Kai, I told myself, even as I began to get dizzy. Before us was a ramp which led up to the sands, and as we walked up and to the desert itself, my eyes found the crowds. By the gods, they were massive. The field battle allowed them to be. The crowds were set up on either side of a large arena marked with posts along the edges. Many of the people sat on tiered stone benches that had been carefully chiseled for such an occasion, to mimic the verticality of the coliseum stands. But not all of the people could fit, for it seemed all of T'ahal was here. The crowds were bunched up and rowdy behind chains set up to contain them from the large, open field, and were guarded by King Adar's men.
I scanned the crowds for familiar faces. I found King Adar sitting on a golden portable chair which had to have been carried out of his castle by servants. Nearby, on the top seat of the tall stone benches, were my friends. I made eye contact with them, trying to let them know I saw them. I hoped I would not disappoint.
“Gavriel! Gavriel! Gavriel!”
That incessant chanting.
“Quiet!” It was that same voice, part demon and part man and part beast, all in one. Gavriel was so arrogant that he quieted his own crowds. I could not see him yet. I could only hear him, from the other side of the arena, where his own officials had been holding him in anticipation of the arrival of his foes. “Where is the woman who would dampen this fine battle?” The god yelled out, into the crowds. The audience booed, as if just the mention of me displeased them. “Where is Kai Sera?”
Officials began to clear the field, moving to the sidelines to get out of the way of the impending battle. The two officials who held my arms were the only ones left, and they began to unshackle me.
“Do not attack until the announcer gives the signal,” one told me.
“Get out of the way, you fucking fools! Where is Kai Sera?”
My nostrils flared. I watched as the officials on Gavriel's side scattered, leaving him unshackled at the other end of the battlefield, a field large enough to set a number of city squares. I coul
d only imagine what the crowd saw, when the two of us were finally out in the open, with no binds.
Gavriel was seven feet tall, and was almost as wide with muscle. He was dark and foreboding, and clutched the two axes from the last battle in the coliseum, each two-handed weapon held only in one. He, like Anto, had fought up the ranks and had killed hundreds to be here.
On the other hand, here I was, a pale woman only a few inches above five feet, who held no weapons. Most of the crowds had never seen me before, or heard my name. Somewhere behind me, Anto was waiting on the sidelines. Perhaps he was better suited, at least visually, to go up against the god in battle.
Gavriel's eyes fell upon me for the first time, and he burst into laughter. My nostrils flared with both anger and humiliation, watching the crowds go wild at the thought of him killing me.
“This is she? This is the woman whose talk was so mighty? Have they sent me a flea?” Gavriel doubled over with laughter, and the crowds joined him.
“Gavriel!” I screamed across the field, ensuring my voice was heard by all. “What is your true name, Gavriel? Why does a god walk amongst the mortals?”
The crowds quieted, confused. Gavriel cut his laughter short, and stood tall next to his huge axes, leaning onto them as they sat with the top of their blades flat to the ground. “You make such a claim, with no proof,” the god yelled back.
“I am a god, Gavriel! I can tell my own kind, and you are one of them. You are one of them, and you lie to your fans and masquerade as human, when in reality, you are murdering through the mortals here as if they ever had a chance against you.”
The hulking man watched me from across the field. I could hear the wind, for it was the only sound anything or anyone was making for a long while. “So you are the myth I have heard about,” Gavriel said, with amusement. “Perhaps this will not be such a quick fight!”
“What is your true name?” I yelled again, defiant. The crowds were still confused, but now, even they watched the other man expectantly.
The gladiator grinned. “Mortals are daft, Kai Sera. I have used the name Gavriel for two hundred years, and not one has caught on yet that the very name means god is my might. My nature is in my chosen identity, but these fools—” He swept his arms toward the crowds “—do not even attempt to research their idols.”
“Your name!” I screamed at him, unwilling to entertain his ramblings.
“Malgor!” He screamed back, impatient and angry with me. “I am the god of war!”
He was one of the few gods I knew enough about to dislike, then. The god that all orcs subscribed to, building statues of him in their camps to give excuses for their bloodshed. Whenever I had seen paintings of Malgor, or statues of him, he had been depicted as an orc. No, Malgor was very human in appearance. Perhaps the race that worshiped him simply idolized him as looking like them, because it is what made them most comfortable.
“Today is the day you die, Malgor,” I yelled across the battlefield. It was odd; I'd been so anxious and mournful earlier. Now, in front of Malgor, I suddenly felt my usual confidence trickling through my veins, and my body was trembling with the anticipation of battle.
“I am two thousand years old, child. You cannot kill me!”
“My face is the last thing you will see before you die,” I yelled back. “I hope that two thousand years was worth the wait!”
Malgor whipped his head toward the announcer, who was near King Adar and looking as if he were nervously trying to figure out when to interject in our bickering. “Count it down, you insolent fool, so I may kill her!”
The announcer lifted up his amplifier tool, and his voice echoed across the morning desert skies. “Three! Two! One! Fight!”
Fifteen
Air magic built in energy of swirling winds above my palms, the purple-white veins of flickering lightning licking outward at the surrounding air. I stood in place, letting Malgor run to me, and released my spell into the sky, just as he was halfway across the battlefield in a rush of fury.
The skies thickened above, a blanket of dark gray blotting out the morning sun and casting shadows over the crowds. I heard rumbling and groaning from the heavens, before the spell released.
BOOM! The lightning struck, the bolt stretching from sky to ground, pumping burning energy through the god and paralyzing him in place. I had used this spell before, and it had always killed immediately. I didn't think that would work here, even as I watched Malgor's skin slowly fry and scar as he shook in place, dropping his axes temporarily.
While Malgor was paralyzed in place, I whispered, “Tranferra la terra ti roc!” A twirling, clear energy rushed above my palms, easier to feel than see. I turned to the sands at my side, and released the energy. A squarish section of the sands began to harden, the sand slowly transitioning into hard sandstone with a thick rumbling, the granules rushing inward toward the energy as the formation of stone required more of it.
“What are you gonna do with that, girly?” Malgor roared, rushing toward me with his two axes once more, the lightning having retreated back to the sky. The god was a frightening sight, his skin still smoking from my magic.
Nothing yet. The god was rushing upon me so fast, I had no time to wait for the earth magic to create the rest of the stone. I thrust my left hand out as he closed our distance, stealing his life with death magic, attempting to gain the high only leeching could provide. I had plenty of energy; my lightning had kept the air of the battlefield energetic, and the winds were still waving over the crowds, whose rowdiness only fed my reserves with the release of their body heat into the air. If I were to gain more of it, however, I would only become stronger. I knew, too, that my leeching would combat Malgor's regenerative abilities. For as long as I leeched, I did not see his scars from the lightning regenerating. He would be using his powers to fuel me.
Malgor screamed as he came upon me, swinging his axes forward in a move meant to gut me even as I generated a shield with my remaining hand. I expected the shield to work, but I also attempted to dodge the hits. My magic shield was normally strong enough to last dozens of mortal hits, so I thought it would save me.
Alas, Malgor was too strong.
His dual axes immediately cut through the shield, their remaining power slicing through both my armor and the first inch of my gut, the pain so searing that I cried out, the squeal so high-pitched it made my own voice foreign to my ears. I let my right hand fall to my gut and over the cut, holding onto my stomach firmly to ensure I would not lose my organs. I didn't think the cut had been that deep, but I couldn't take the chance.
I scurried backwards as Malgor went for another swing, backing so far that I was pushed forward into the arena, for I was out of space on the end I'd started at. I was in the midst of healing my gut with the hand which had attempted to shield, but only using one hand kept the healing slow, and I couldn't be sure I was healing it correctly, because I couldn't take a break to focus. I continued to leech from Malgor, dodging the next swing of his ax, and hurrying toward the center of the arena, the funnel of crackling black energy still siphoning from his body to mine.
I needed a distraction. I was constantly on the defensive, and I was attempting to heal. I dropped both spells for the moment, and murmured one I knew all too well, releasing tendrils of death energy through the sands, the snake-like slivers of magic sinking deep into the ground once they found evidence of death.
Crack! Sss...
All around us, skeletons rose, the sands sinking to fill the holes their rising bones left in the land. For a battlefield so large, there weren't many of them, perhaps because we were still so close to the city, where most of the dead would be found and put to rest. Some of them were incomplete, bones having been lost to the sands during storms or natural movements. Even still, they were the distraction I needed. The dead hissed at the other god, lurching toward him with no fear. Two of them had curved swords, and managed to cut through the god's flesh, shedding his blood in streaks down his tanned skin.
&n
bsp; I held both hands to my gut, putting all of my focus into healing the remainder of the wound. Ideally, I should have laid down to heal such a spot, but I had to improvise. I could only hope muscle was connecting in the right places, and that I would get no infection. I didn't have the time to use my immunity spell.
Malgor was knocking down skeletons with his axes left and right, their bones rolling down the slick sands as they fell. Now done with healing my wound, I started leeching from him again. The lightning scars on his thick neck and upper arms had already started fading in the short time I'd needed to finish healing, reversing some of the progress I'd made. Considering the powers of both Malgor and I, this would be a battle of wits and patience. I knew the god could die. I had seen him get worn down at last week's battle, only to regenerate during the moments he wasn't hit. I needed to make sure he was taking constant damage, or else I would never kill him.
“Creatius a friz projectille,” I breathed, listening as the crackling of ice met my ears from over my free hand. I watched Malgor fight the remainder of the skeletons, my mind sharpening with the energy from leeching, finally achieving the high I had wanted. Colors became more robust, and I could hear everything. Leeching the regenerating energies of another god was understandably more powerful than leeching from the other races, for each sense was sharpened many times more than I was used to. I could hear each of Malgor's breaths as he labored to charge up a spin attack with his axes to collapse the remainder of the skeletons, and I could hear each individual crowd goer, from their breathing to their cheers. It was like I could pinpoint each individual noise, and know just where it was. I could hear the buzzing of a fly, and my eyes immediately glanced in the direction of the merchandise stalls, somewhere past the masses of the crowds, giving away that the fly was probably hovering over some fried food. What was more, it was like time slowed...for I could not only hear the fly's wings incessantly beating, each flap was separated in my head, each one unique. My reaction times were now extraordinary.