Bloodfall Arena

by J. A. Ludwig

  Aya looks to the two slowly rising from the benches. Quin’s pale expression reflects her dread, but Leid’s face is empty. The two walk into the Cage of Conquest and wait. Neither goes for weapons, only standing and facing the two men across from them. The gates are closed, and the arena falls quiet.

  Quin, visibly shaking, pulls away from her partner. The chains connecting the two stretch to their full length.

  The bell rings and the audience comes alive with excitement. The Dongo Brothers draw their weapons and wait for the slaves to make the first move.

  Leid turns to Quin and walks towards her. But Quin walks backwards, trying to stay far from her partner, and the audience’s murmurs change to confusion.

  “Doesn’t look good for Quin,” one of the other slaves says.

  Her partner hits her arm. “Shut up, Lili.”

  “What do you mean?” Yvette’s voice draws everyone’s attention.

  “Géroux doesn’t want me to say it,” Lili says, glaring at her partner. “But it’s true. Quin got the worst person to be chained to of all of us.”

  “Why?” Aya asks, peering at the two slaves inside the cage.

  Quin is at the wall of the cage, her back pressing into the metal. Leid grabs a large axe and weighs it in his hands. He swings it lazily left and right. As the chains stiffen, Leid continues moving. Quin is slowly dragged from the wall. In terror and humiliation, her bladder lets go.

  “Is he....is he attacking his own partner?” Aya cries in disbelief.

  “Leid isn’t like the rest of us. He wasn’t sold as a slave to the Arena,” Géroux says.

  Lili leans in. “He’s a killer. Mad, a criminal. He murdered his family and most of an entire village before he was captured and thrown in here.”

  Leid stops holds the axe in one hand, looking at Quin with his crazed yet empty expression. He grabs the chain on his wrist and yanks her roughly forward.

  Quin grabs the chain and pulls against it. “No! Gods, no! Let me out!” Her screams fill the air, the sound of her feet dragging on the stone floor and the chains the only other sounds as the audience collectively holds its breath.

  The Dongo Brothers lower their weapons, unsure of what to do.

  Leid pulls Quin closer and closer with one hand, as the axe in the other rises above his head. With one swift motion, he brings the axe down, aiming for where Quin’s neck and shoulder connect. With surprising strength, the axe buries deep, stopping only when it hits resistance from bone.

  Quin’s screams are replaced with gargling as blood fills her lungs and mouth. Leid forcibly pulls the axe free and, with the same swinging motion, brings it down on the same spot. With less resistance, the axe passes through, splitting her.

  The audience screams, a raucous mix of horror and in pure elation. The slaves in the waiting area stare at Quin’s corpse in shock.

  Leid uses the axe to free the shackles off Quin’s arm and leg before he throws the overbearing weapon away. His attention turns to the two men who waited for him to finish.

  Leid spins the now-free metal chain above his head and holds his other hand out to the brothers. “I’m ready.” His voice is cold, unaffected by what he’s done. To him, Quin had been nothing but a disadvantage.

  The brothers hesitate, but then raise their weapons and charge the solitary slave. As the first brother reaches Leid, Leid throws the spinning chain towards the man. The men split, avoiding the chain easily, but Kaj, to Leid’s right, is slower than Zid. Leid’s right leg kicks the chain attached to it and entangles Kaj’s legs, tripping him. With him stunned on the ground, Leid changes the direction of the chain on his arm. He slams the heavy shackle into Kaj’s head repeatedly, killing the man in quick spurts of blood and bone.

  “Kaj!” Zid grows furious, and sloppy. He swings his weapon, but Leid squats as Zid swings and the blade only hits air. Kicking his left leg out, Leid knocks Zid onto his back. He leaps atop his chest and wraps the chain around his throat. He kicks the weapon out of Zid’s struggling reach and tightens the chain. The frantic movements slow, then stop.

  The bell signaling the end of the fight rings out to a bewildered audience. Aya stares at Quin’s mutilated body. Leid slowly stands and walks to the gate of the cage, waiting for the arena workers to open it. They do, and step back from the man as he walks to his seat. The chains drag on the ground behind him and when he sits, he pulls them to rest underneath him. He crosses his arms and stares straight ahead, the empty expression still on his face.

  Chapter 36

  “Another victory for the slaves!” Dolus Otho’s voice breaks the silence. “Leid is the victor!”

  The audience returns to life and thunderous applause and whoops of approval fill the Arena. Workers rush the area and clear the three bodies, carrying them to the carts at the bottom of the stairs and throwing them on top of Hugh and Granger. Water mages wash the blood away, and soon the arena is ready for the next fight.

  “What an exciting fight. How can we possibly top that? We’re going to give it a try,” Dolus Otho calls out.

  Aya stares at Leid, fear growing at this man who felt nothing for the woman he so easily dispatched for his own gain. A hand grabs hers, and she turns to look at Yme.

  “Don’t think about it. He won’t do anything on this side of the cage.” But Yme’s cautious stare at the man betrays his words.

  The next match is called, a pair of amateur fighters versus Cellblock C, Ziv and Pangur. The match isn’t as quick as the first, and both pairs put up enough of a fight to keep the audience enthralled. Ziv and Pangur defeat their opponents, but the professionals yield and are allowed to leave with their lives.

  Dolus Otho goes right to calling the next match. A father and son duo versus Cellblock F’s Sanna and Darin. This fight lasts longer, but when Darin is cornered by the father and son, Sanna uses their lack of focus on her to kill the son from behind. The father capitulates immediately, then carries his son’s body out of the arena himself.

  “Our challengers for fight number five are former workers of Bloodfall, but loved the fights so much, they decided to become professional fighters themselves. Welcome Serg and Klas! As to who they shall be facing...” He reaches into the bowl of sticks and smiles broadly at the result, “Cellblock A, Yme and Aya!”

  The audience erupts into roars of approval. Finally, Yme will fight, and with the newest flesh of the Arena.

  Yme and Aya stand and walk to the gate. As it closes behind them, Aya peers back at Leid’s blank expression. Is Yme thinking it would be easier to get rid of me? Is he thinking I’m a burden?

  “Focus.” Yme gently pulls on their chain. “Worry after we win.”

  Aya faces forward. Their opponents wait at the center of the cage. They both carry dual knives and scars cover their skin. She spies a small shield close to her, grabs it and pulls it close.

  “Yme Gurek,” one of the fighters says. “Long time no see, little puke.”

  The other fighter laughs and lifts his shirt, showing a large scar on his abdomen. “Remember this? Got it when your sorry ass tried to escape when you were fresh flesh.”

  Yme cracks his knuckles and stretches his arms over his head. “Sorry. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  “He’s playing dumb, Serg!”

  “We’ll have to give him a little reminder, Klas.”

  “Been a lot of grodun dungs who used to work here and who I may have nearly killed. But you’re the first two to come back to finish the job,” Yme says.

  Aya yells, “Do you really think pissing them off is helpful?”

  “They’re going to try to kill us either way. Might as well have some fun.” Yme holds his hands out in front of him. He points, and the floor in front of him cracks and rises. A large boulder rises to eye height and Yme smiles.

  The starting bell rings and the two fighters split, Serg running for Aya and Klas running for Yme. Yme throws the boulder at Serg, as Klas slams into him. The two men collapse to the ground, the chain draggin
g Aya back a few steps. She winces as her arm wrenches behind her.

  Yme uses his legs and Klas’s momentum to throw the man into the cage wall, but not before Klas buries his knives into the chain links of Yme’s wrist shackle. Yme tries to sit up, but the blades are buried deep and he can’t free his hand.

  Aya is pulled down to her knee. She sees movement out of the corner of her eye and raises the almost forgotten shield in her other hand. Serg’s knives hit the metal of her shield and bounce off, one flying into the middle of the cage.

  A trail of blood rolls down the side of Serg’s head, dust spattered in his hair from the stone Yme threw at him. Serg recovers from the shield block and swipes his remaining knife at Aya’s legs. She moves out of the way but the chain on her right leg tightens. She’s unable to completely clear the distance. The sharp blade slices her skin.

  Arms wrap around Aya from behind and she drops the shield. Klas grunts, pinning her tightly as Serg moves in for a killing blow.

  A blast of wind slams into Serg and throws the surprised man into the cage wall. He hits the metal hard enough to shake some of the weapons off the walls. He groans on the ground, trying to regain his footing. Yme, having freed himself, runs forward and punches Serg in the back of the head, using his air magic to increase his hit. Serg falls and goes still, and Yme turns his attention to Klas.

  Klas pulls Aya away, trying to gain distance from Yme, but the chains connecting Yme and Aya don’t allow much separation. Yme hesitates to use his magic against Klas, afraid of hitting Aya.

  Aya struggles against the arms around her. She raises her leg and aims at Klas’s shin. As her foot makes contact, she feels her magic rise sharply inside of her. It shoots down her leg and into Klas’s muscle and bone. Klas screams and falls to the ground, gripping his leg. Aya grabs her shield and turns to the large man on the ground. His lower leg is angled in a painful way. Bone sticks out of his skin and his hands are covered in blood. Aya freezes. This is the sort of wound she was born to heal, not cause.

  Yme rushes forward and grabs Klas’s throat, pulling him close. “Give up. You can’t keep fighting with that injury and your partner is unconscious. End this fight or I will kill both of you.”

  Klas shoves Yme away, but the move sends fresh pain through him. He screams, grabbing his wounded leg. “All right, all right! We concede!”

  The bell rings, ending the match and the audience cheers at the victory.

  Yme and Aya walk to the gate and wait for the workers to open it. Once they do, they make their way back to their seats. Serg and Klas are helped out of the cage and disappear down the stairs.

  Aya winces at the sharp pain in her leg. She looks at the cut and is relieved to see it’s not deep. The bleeding is already clotting.

  “I don’t like this,” Yme says almost to himself.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific. There’s too much shit around here to know what you mean.”

  “They focused on you. They got me out of the way almost long enough to kill you.”

  “Not sensing a lot of faith in my abilities. I don’t need you to worry about me if it’s going to be a distraction for you,” Aya says, resting her back on the railing.

  Yme leans his arms on his knees and looks away from her. “They all think you’re the weaker fighter. They’re going to try to take you out first before focusing on me. I’m sure you can handle yourself against one fighter, but I don’t know your abilities enough to safely assume you’d be able to handle two.”

  Aya doesn’t answer. She can’t. She doesn’t honestly know, herself, and she doesn’t want to admit she had no plan to free herself from Klas as Serg nearly stabbed her. If Yme hadn’t intervened...

  “Thank you for not abandoning me,” she says.

  Yme turns his head sharply to look at her. “I would never abandon you.”

  A smile forms on her lips, sensing the truth in his words.

  Chapter 37

  “Our next match up is our first repeat performance,” Dolus Otho announces, holding up two sticks. “Cellblock B, Chaput and Yvette!”

  Yvette’s aimed glare chills Aya. Then Yvette storms for the cage door, nearly dragging Chaput. He bustles to catch up to her. Their opponents are already in the Cage of Conquest, sisters and first-time fighters in the Arena. One carries a sword while the other holds a crossbow.

  Yvette grabs an axe and Chaput grabs a mace. They walk to the center of the fighting floor, standing across from the two sisters. Yvette’s head keeps turning to Chaput and her lips move as she whispers to her partner. Shock appears on Chaput’s face. He shakes his head and lowers the mace in his hand, as though whatever Yvette said has drawn the strength from him.

  The bell rings. The crossbow sister moves away, loading her weapon. The other sister raises her blade, preparing for whatever attack Chaput and Yvette use.

  Yvette raises her axe and quickly brings it down on Chaput’s arm. The man screams as blood drips to the ground. In the stunned moment where both sisters stare at the two slaves, Chaput throws his mace with deadly accuracy at the crossbow sister. Unfortunately, in his blinding pain he misjudges the distance and it lands at her feet.

  “Damn it, Chaput!” Yvette screams. She raises the axe again, this time bringing it down on his ankle. A crossbow bolt shoots into her side, knocking her off balance, and the axe buries into Chaput’s thigh. The swing isn’t strong enough to cut through his muscle and he collapses to the ground, dragging Yvette with him.

  The sister with the sword moves forward, swinging at Yvette. Yvette quickly rolls off of Chaput as the blade swings down. Chaput screams; the sword stabs into his chest. The sister pulls the blade free, but Yvette already has her axe free of Chaput’s thigh. She swings it at the sister, forcing her to jump back. Changing the trajectory of the axe, Yvette cuts through Chaput’s ankle, freeing her from his twitching body and grabs the shield Aya left from the previous match.

  Yvette raises the shield as a crossbow bolt flies towards her. It bounces off the metal and falls harmlessly to the ground. Yvette uses the shield to break the bolt still in her side, so it won’t get in her way.

  The sister with the sword lunges for Yvette, but now able to freely move, Yvette bashes the young woman with her shield. The wind is knocked from the sister and Yvette uses her hesitation to bring the axe down on her head. The sword falls and she collapses to the ground. Yvette uses her foot to free the axe from the girl’s skull.

  By now the other sister has reloaded her crossbow. Another bolt fires at her, but she deflects them with the shield. She charges, using the shield to protect her head and upper body. The sister changes her aim and a bolt buries into Yvette’s thigh. She yells in anger and pain as she slams the shield into the sister’s weapon, knocking it from her hands. Yvette swings the axe under the girl, knocking her from her feet.

  The girl gasps for air, but Yvette doesn’t give her a chance to concede the fight. She buries the axe into the young girl’s chest. Blood fills the girl’s mouth and spatters over her startled eyes. Yvette pulls the axe free and buries it into the girl’s head. She kicks the air, then stills.

  The bell rings, ending the fight, Yvette stands and throws her weapon and shield to the ground. She wipes the blood of those she killed from her cheek. She pulls the bolt from her thigh and limps to the gate. After it opens, she walks up to Aya and glares down at her. “Weak links should accept their fate and get out of the way of the strong.”

  The other slaves gawp at the two in silence. Even Yme doesn’t interfere, curious to see how Aya reacts. Yvette grabs the broken bolt in her side.

  Aya grabs Yvette’s hand, stopping her from pulling the bolt out. “Don’t remove it. You might bleed out.” She stands, meeting the woman’s eyes. “Even strong links rust and break one day.”

  Yvette sneers and sits as far from Aya as she can, panting. Aya waits until the other woman is seated before sitting back down. Yvette tears strips from her clothes and ties the make-shift bandages around her thigh.
She winces and grabs the broken bolt, preparing to pull it free, but freezes. Her eyes flicker to Aya for a moment. She scoffs and crosses her arms, leaving the metal in her side.

  Workers clean the fighting area, and clear the bodies for the next match. Dolus Otho calls the next fighters, another repeat: Cellblock C. Ziv and Pangur rise and head into the arena. Their opponents are mercenaries and prove tougher than their previous match. One of the mercenaries dies to a blade in his throat but not without seriously injuring Pangur in the leg. The still-living mercenary gives up, banging the gate to be released.

  As Ziv and Pangur return to their seats, Aya eyes the open wound on Pangur’s leg. The blood from his wound drips to the floor, pooling beneath him. His skin pales and his eyes droop. Aya fears the wound may be fatal.

  Standing, she walks up to the magic blocker, the chains connecting her to Yme straining. “Let me help him.”

  “You’re not allowed to use your magic outside of the cage.”

  “That leg wound is bleeding too much to be anything other than an arterial cut. He’s bleeding out, fast. He has only minutes left.”

  The magic blocker shakes his head. “You’re not allowed to use your magic outside of the cage.”

  Dolus Otho calls the next fight. Cellblock E.

  “Sit down, slave,” a second arena worker yells, holding a small club in his hand.

  Aya returns to her seat, biting her tongue in anger.

  Lili and Géroux stand and enter the cage. Their opponents are first-time fighters in the arena but have fought as mercenaries for years.

  The bell rings and Lili and Géroux each grab a weapon and move close together. Their opponents go on the offensive and attack the two.

  “You’re confusing.” Yme keeps his voice low.

  “Confusing?” Aya asks. “How am I confusing?”

  Lili and Géroux fight in perfect tandem. They understand the best chance of survival is working together and they do so beautifully. Their opponents have trouble finding openings in their defenses but are able to keep their own defenses high as well.