Auria

Chapter 4 - Why?

A hundred men halted practice on the grounds below the balcony.  Each seemed too familiar toward the Master, bearing his face, his features, his unique stance. The hundred men stared as she watched from high above.

“Master, why am aw ere?” asked Auria.

The man in black spun away from her and locked both hands behind him. Blood vessels tensed, reddening the skin above arched, thoughtful temples. He closed eyes and took a deep breath.

“There are things in this universe which you will never truly understand.” he said, finding a lump in his throat to swallow. “The truth is sometimes hard to imagine.”

Master turned, took one step closer, then carried a stiff foot back to rejoin the other, halting side by side. Once again swallowing a lump in his throat, he casually whispered to carry no farther than the short distance between them.

“My mission is to train you… to fight... in an Arena… for the amusement of the ones you call...”

“De All-Wisdom?”

She laughed a lonely chuckle. Raising an arm against the door casing, she faked a smile and placed a palm to her head.

“Tell me dis is a dream," she began, "some kind of weird dream o mine... where aw can fly away an start anew, someting o me own choosin. Aw wanna go somewhere wit flowers… an people… an children playin… somewhere aw can fall in love an be at peace fer once... wit no one looking over me shoulder. Aw want ta say goodbye now, so very badly. It truly has been ma pleasure in meetin ya, whoever ya are. Ya has a nice home, somewhere... Aw pray.”


The Master grimaced and shook his head.  Looking down, he spoke softly.

“You are so fragile. I can’t imagine why they’ve sent you here. It breaks my heart when I tell you this is real.  Fly away if you must. I’ll help you… if I'm able. But, you are here. And, for once in my life, I really don’t know what to do.”

“Then, let me go. Tell me dis isn't real... But, aw’m not going ta do whadever it is dey expect o me.”

Auria kept eye contact for a moment. He failed to respond, but was drawn straight back into hers. His long, gray hair ruffled in the slightest breeze, awaking chill bumps so loudly, they carried over to her as well. She grunted, finding his lack of response chilling.

“Whad if...”

“If I tell you...” he finally spoke, “I have won this tournament you are about to enter, would it make you feel better?”

“Na.” she shook.

“What if I said you are the first human I have trained in a very long time, the first female I’ve even laid eyes upon in… thirty years, maybe longer.”

“Whad if aw said yer completely insane?” She walked toward the Master. “Whad if aw tell ya aw'll do no such ting as ya've asked?” Auria stood firmly in front of him, raising her voice with each sentence. “Whad if aw say… ta hell wid ya an all dem too!”

“What if I fail to train you and they kill me?” he asked. “What if they kill every single one of us? What if they kill your friends and family if you don’t?”

“Ifin aw’m dead, blessed be da life...”

“If you died in the arena, it would save everyone. I’m not asking you to die.  I’m telling you... there is no other way.”

“Go ta hell.”

“Hit me! If the thought of this disgusts you so much, strike me. You need this. I won’t hurt you.”


Auria reached across and slapped him in the face. She grew angrier by the second, each breath growling from deep within.

“Again.”

She slapped harder. No regrets, only a questionable sanity.

“Harder. Kick me, punch me… knock me down. I deserve your anger.”

Auria kicked the Master mid-center in the chest. His feet slid, then she rushed, punching with a right fist, pulling it farther back in each blow. He stood erect and looked beyond as blood dripped onto the white, marble floor.  Her anger withdrew to a smile. She lowered fists and rolled eyes.

“Ya like dis, don’t ya?” she asked.

“No. I do not like any of it.”

“Yer tempting me ta fight… because ya tink aw might like it, ta go out on ma own volition, ma own choices, ma freedom ta do as aw choose... as long as aw die in some fightin cage.”

“Yes.”

“How long till it's over an done?”

“Twenty days.”

“Aw haven't had nuttin ta eat yet.”

The Master smiled, stepped to the side and walked toward the door. “I didn't hear the words Master or please.”

“Yer not de master o me.” she yelled.


The man in black continued along the balcony, entered another room and closed the door. He fell flat on a bunk, held a hand to his chest, rolled over and breathed deeply. Touching his earlobe, the upper tip flashed red twice.

“Medic. I need a medic.”