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Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1081638
Blood, glory, power, deception, all are found in the Arena.




1


Champion.
My Champion.
I own him. The bloody glory he earns is mine. In the streets they may call his name but mine is on all the papers. As he swims in the blood of his opponents, I swim in the riches of mine.
Bronze. Silver,
(Gold)
I receive all the Glory. All the respect. All the money. He is mine. My pawn.
Soon the name of Makaynin shall cause men to be fearful, cause lords to kneel,
cause
(Gods)
warriors to wimper.
All this won because of this beast of a man, Usedi. I found him at a young
age in the slave pits with mud caked on his face, dressed in little more than a rag. I witnessed him murder a fellow slave-boy simply for his piece of bread. He twisted the boy's head when the boy laid in with the first punch. No expression at all; just efficiency.
(Chilling)
After haggling with the slave owner, I got Usedi at a decent price of three
hundred and fifty kints. I brought him to my house in chains.
I raised Usedi to be strong and quick. His ice-blue eyes always calculating,
always cold and calculating. He would always stare into my own eyes as if he knew something that I didnt.
For ten years I bred him to be my prized fighter. He hasn't failed me yet. The death-rings of this realm of Tylon are the best places to make my business. And I do. The sport that my warriors play is both beautiful and fatal. Elegant and deadly.
Soon I will have power beyond limits. He is my tool, and he is ready.



2


Usedi could hear the thunder of the crowd from down here. The people must really be anxious for a show today. He was the one to give it to them.
He waited silently and patiently in the wooden crate that the men beneath the structure called a lift as he ascended. He was naked apart from the ceremonial blade-gauntlets and the cloth that covered his groin and buttocks. The cloth was a simple rag that hung down to the knee but left the legs bare.
He idly thumbed the blade on one of his gauntlets. The blade was simple in design but captured a certain beauty. A master weapon, the blade on the gauntlets extended about a-hand-and-a-half from the wrists.
Usedi looked up as he felt the sudden, juddering halt of the lift and watched the gate fall open with a clang as the metallic edge hit the floorboards. Stretching his back he stood and slowly walked towards the light. The cheers of the crowd were much louder up here. He could feel the vibration in the sandy boards as they pounded their feet in anticipation. Walking into the sunlight his well-muscled body glistened bright due to the oil applied to it.
The circular arena teemed with life as ribbons and streamers fluttered to and fro in the stands. Walking across the short sandy bridge which crossed the cool, dark pit which hugged the arena's wall, Usedi examined his opponent standing in the center of the sandy floor. He clicked his tongue in slight annoyance. Usedi knew it was no contest.



3


What should he do? Should he make this a quick match or should he toy with him? The crowd wanted blood. However, he did not want to spoil the show by letting it come too quickly. Usedi opted for the latter.
The young man who stood in the center of the ring was loosening himself up. Usedi could tell by the way he walked that he had only just completed his training by his master. Also, he could tell by the way he flexed his hands in his gauntlets that they were relatively new to him. Maybe a couple of lucky ring-fights against ameteurs, but no more.
Standing cautiously in front of each other now, they looked into each other's eyes. Usedi's opponent looked
(Young)
wary, he noticed, as a bit of sweat trickled down his opponent's brow.
"Cross blades!" A voice rang out as the crowd fell silent. Each taking a fighting stance, they crossed their right-arm blades looking as if in an arm wrestle.
"And...begin!" The voice rang out again. On the last word, drums picked up a viciously fast beat that suited sport.
Usedi swung his left hand in towards his opponent's neck as he batted his right away, diliberately slowing his swing so as to make the fight last. His opponent ducked as Usedi spun with his swing and bent low with another swing as his opponent made his own. The dance continued with swings and jabs, sometimes interspersed with a kick. Usedi was gaining ground, which was to be expected, even though he had given his opponent a few opportunities where his guard was left open. However, his opponent either didn't see them or didn't take them.
His opponent threw his arm out straight towards Usedi's head. Doing a terrific backbend he avoided his opponent's jab. He dug his blades into the sandy earth behind him and rolled with his backbend, lifting his feet and planting a kick in his opponent's chest. Usedi landed lightly behind the rivets in the earth where his blades dug while his opponent went sprawling. The crowd thundered with approval for the first blow. Taking a few steps back gracefully and calmly, he took another fighting stance. His opponent recovered from his fall and angrily took his own stance.
As the two fighters circled each other, the drums quickened their beat. Usedi bounced a reversal on his last step and flew into a low spin as his opponent ran and jumped into a flying kick. Usedi came out of his spin high on his opponent's exposed back-side where he left a deep gash on his lower back.
Usedi's opponent lost his form and barrel rolled as he landed. Usedi took yet another stance as his opponent started to pick himself up. Deciding that the fight had gone on long enough, Usedi performed a running leap. Not quite up yet, his opponent turned to face Usedi falling back towards the ground as Usedi blocked out the sunlight as he came down on his opponent. To the young man it seemed that the angel of death was flying down to claim him. Usedi's right arm shot foreward and the sharp blade peirced through his the neck and into the sand.
Blood gurgled sickeningly out from both the hole in his neck and his mouth where it dribbled down his chin. A wavering hand lifted as if to pull the blade free. Usedi couldnt help feeling disgust for the poor wretch as he fixed his eyes to the pleading, wide-eyed stare of his opponent. Droplets of blood and meat splattered on the ground as Usedi wrenched his blade free. The crowd, quiet with awe until now, rose up in thunderous applause. They threw down pink flower petals in both celebration of the victory and honor of the departed: a ritual of forgotten meaning still practiced habitually.
Usedi stopped at the edge of the arena before exiting and stooped to examine one of the petals, admiring its simple beauty. Thinking that the ritual was appropriate, he rose and continued on his way.



4


Clothed in long blue robes with golden lining, Makaynin clenched his teeth in anoyance.
"What do you mean you're not happy?" He asked. "You have money, a place in a grand house, you win glory, you eat and drink well. I don't see what would bring about such unhappiness."
Usedi's sickeningly smooth voice slithered to Makaynin's ears and said, "Why do you make me slaughter such whelps?" Makaynin twitched at this. "I grow tired of all these ameteurs. I want a real fight. I want to be Champion of the Games. I wa-"
"All in good time, Usedi. You've only been fighting for three years, and what man has ever become Champion in three years, Usedi?" he said with a smile, as if speaking to a young child. "You need more experience."
"I don't need experience." Usedi stated darkly. Makaynin's smile vanished. "I have talent, and you know this all too well. I am the best fighter of yours by far. Better than all in the sport! And you know it." Usedi stood, as if to leave, with his black robes flowing.
"What arrow flies without direction?!" He retorted. "What cloth is made without a spinstress?! I have raised you since you were a boy!" standing up to his full height now with his long silver hair flowing down in front of his angered face. "The least you could do is accept my guidance, as all warriors should listen to their masters."
Not able to think of any reply that would turn the argument in his favor, he angrily swept from the room, leaving his master to bore holes into the back of his head with his dark gaze. He needs to learn his place. Makaynin thought angrily. He told himself to be patient. It will be worth it in the end.
He smiled a wicked smile at this thought. "Soon", he said, "soon it will all fall in place. I can feel it."
He slowly strode to the window that overlooked the city which was enveloped in the brilliantly orange light of dusk. He began to laugh.



5


Usedi's opponent was already bleeding from numerous wounds and it wasn't even two minutes into the battle. The unfortunate opponent didn't have long to live. Somehow Emperor Grek knew that. He stroked his short, white beard in anticipation.
Stunned by a spinning kick followed immediately by a fierce downward slash, Usedi's opponent fell. Lifting up an arm, Usedi wordlessly claimed an easy victory. Grek turned to his left where he beckoned to a servant-boy who was standing timidly by Grek's throne.
"Find the master of the victor. I believe his name is Makaynin. Tell Makaynin that I have a proposition for him and that I will meet with him soon. Very soon."
The boy nodded and faithfully scurried off to fulfill the Emperor's orders. To the Emperor's right stood a giant of a man with very dark skin and a number of old, faded scars. The man had not made a sound as the match, if it could be called a match, progressed. His dark brown eyes had been fixed upon Usedi. The man was Sute. His name was given to him in his former land, Ingwai. He was the Emperor's Champion.
"Can you beat him?" Grek asked simply.
"I could crush his bones into powder." Sute growled in a deep gravelly voice.
"Good." Grek said, as a scheme took form in his mind. Grek knew that Usedi was a talented fighter, too much for his own good, most likely. He would have to be taken care of.
Whoever was Champion of the Games took all the glory. Whoever was master of the Champion would be Emperor over Tylon. That's how it had been for over three centuries. Best to exterminate Usedi now while he was still a minor threat. Grek had been Emperor for fourteen years and was not about to lose his throne to some fool named Makaynin or maybe even Usedi himself, if Usedi decided to overtake his master. It was not unheard of.



6


Hearing voices drifting from the dining hall Usedi kept to the shadows. Halting next to one of the side entrances of the hall, he peered into it. Usedi tilted his head in curiousity when he saw who was in the room. In the middle of the hall stood Makaynin dressed in his customary blue robes along with the Emperor and the Emperor's Champion, both dressed in royal scarlet.
"If you do as I politely request, I am willing to pay you four million kints and three of my best fighters." At this, seven men came in, four carrying two massive chests and three men heavily muscled and oiled. Makaynin, eyes widening and lips spreading in a greedy grin, stepped foreward to examine his pay.
"This is a fine selection of warriors, indeed." Makaynin stated. "All this for one man's life?"
"My suggestion, Makaynin, is that you do not question good things." The Emperor replied in a calm but warning tone.
"Yes, of course, your highness." He turned away from the two in scarlet. "Yes." he said softly to himself stroking his chin. Usedi knew that his cunning was at work.
Spinning around Makaynin exclaimed with a bright grin, "Your majesty, I accept your offer. I thank you very much for making it. Usedi will fight your Champion, Sute, the day after next."
With hot blood, Usedi crept back to his sleeping chambers to rest and then, to scheme.



7


Sitting on the same stool in the same crate that the men beneath the structure called a lift, Usedi stared fixedly at his dual blades. The blades gleamed in the dim light. He could hear the thunder of the crowd, but it wasn't the same. Maybe the crowd is not as large today. Deep down in his mind he knew that this wasn't the case.
Was it nervousness? He thought. No! Usedi doesn't get nervous! I have dealt with giants before. However, this is no regular big, stumbling, brute. This is Sute, graceful, strong, quick, and experienced.
That last word hung in his mind for a long moment. He had seen Sute fight. A good fighter, even by Usedi's standards. If anyone was Usedi's match, it was Sute. When Sute fought, which was a rare treat for the eyes, one would be hard pressed to believe that such flexibility and speed were humanly possible. Usedi assumed that Sute knew this as well.
As the lift's gate clanged to the sandy floorboards, Usedi sat motionless, not noticing. He felt the weight of his situation physically push him down on the stool. Only with a massive force of will and self-discipline, did Usedi slowly pull himself up. He felt every single creak in his body. Finally standing straight he could feel the weight lift. Usedi took a deep relaxing breath.
He walked out into the bright yellow sunlight. There stood Sute, still as a statue, muscles slathered with oil. He glared down at Usedi.
"What do you think your chances are?" he asked forebodingly, still glaring. "I can tell by your stride that you have confidence, but in reality, what do you think the odds are?"
"What I think..." Usedi responded cooly, "is that by the time this match is finished, your thick neck will be the uppermost part of your body."
"You will be nothing more than an ant crushed under my heel." Sute smirked. "You are going to fall today, young pup, believe you me, you will fall"
As if to end their taunts, the ringmaster's voice rang out after silencing the audience:
"Cross blades!"
They did so with obvious tension between them. The crowd hushed. The bright sun reflected off the yellow sand. Even the wind died, making a moment that seemed to last for aeons. Usedi saw Sute's eyes narrow ever so slightly.
"Begin!" The ringmaster called, signalling the battle-drums.
In a surprising feint, Sute jabbed in at Usedi with his crossed blade. Usedi however, sidestepped the fatal punch in the nick of time. Flowing into a single spin, Usedi countered with a back-hand swing. Sute nodded away from the swing with relative ease and slid under Usedi's arm to get behind him and try to slash his vulnerable backside.When Sute tried this maneuver he and everyone else heard a sound that was rarely heard in the death-rings of Tylon: The clash of metal on metal.
The crowd went mad with approval. Usedi had been quick enough to block Sute, a great feat. Sute ducked under Usedi's followup swing, coming up high then jabbing downward, slicing Usedi's shoulder. Sute spun low with a sweeping foot. Sute hoped to trip Usedi causing him to fall flat on his back. Then he could stand over Usedi and would come down upon his rival plunging his blade deep into his chest. Then while Usedi lay dying, Sute would finish the deed by twisting the blade causing the crack of broken bones.
Sute was surprised not to feel Usedi tumbling over his foot as he swept it around. He was very surprised to find, as he came around, that Usedi was spinning in mid-air with his foot just about to smash into his face.



8


Sute crashed on his face. Hard. Sute's diversionary tactic hadn't worked. Instinctively, Usedi knew that if he let the pain of his wound stop his flow of movement, he was dead. Usedi also knew that if he attacked Sute now while he appeared most vulnerable, that Sute would kill him. Instead, Usedi took a fightng stance and waited patiently. As soon as Sute was down, he was back up with the grace of a mountain lion.
The tempo of the drums intensified as the two fighters resumed their deadly dance. The crowd roared. The sunlight glinted off the four blades. A cut here, a slice there, and a kick somewhere in between, the two matched each other blow for blow.
Usedi swung foreward and slashed Sute's inner thigh near the knee. Sute countered by swinging at Usedi's head. Usedi bent under the blade but was caught in the side as the tip of Sute's other blade swung inward. In a half-crouch, Usedi speared both his blades deep into Sute's sides. Dark blood trickled from these wounds. Sute roared with anger and pain. And as Usedi wrenched the blades free, Sute fell to his knees with a defeated expression.
He looked up at Usedi and beheld the eyes of his killer. With a snarl his rival severed his head from his shoulders. Sute's body slumped to the blood soaked sand.



9


"No!" cried the Emperor. His cry was barely audible under the waves of cheers the audience crashed down into the arena. A cold shiver ran down his spine as the pink petals began to fall. I'm no longer Emperor. Makaynin will take the throne. What will I do?
Then Usedi met his eyes. Grek experienced the chilling gaze that had made so many men shiver. Forgetting about his throne, Grek became concerned about his very life. Usedi was now advancing upon the Emperor's box. His hands shaking, Grek backed away from the edge of the box. He felt a black hole form in his chest. The crowd turned cheers of amusement into murmurs of confusion. Collapsing into his ceramite throne, Grek could feel cold sweat crawl down his brow. I could run. But I know that Usedi would catch me with little effort. I will have to trust my guards wi-
Grek's eyes widened in horror as he realised that his guards were no longer at their posts.
He could hear Usedi crawling up the wooden wall to his box. Grek became short of breath when Usedi cleared the lip of the box.
"Please, Usedi," Grek pleaded, "don't kill me. I can give you riches, women, anything, just please spare m-"
"You conspired against me," Usedi spoke chillingly while slowly advancing with his blades still dripping with Sute's blood. "Wanted to kill me, did you?"
"Wh-what?"
"Don't play dumb with me, fool!" Usedi spat at him. He raised his blade to stab Grek in the heart.
"Your time is over, old man." Quick as an arrow, Usedi plunged the blade deep into the former Emperor's flesh.



10


I, Makaynin, am now the Emperor over Tylon. I could kill scores of men with a single word. I have power that most men only dream of. But I want more.
(World conquest)
Some say that it's impossible for me to have more power. I will change their minds.
In the meantime, Usedi escaped after murdering the former Emperor. I had the men that Grek paid me leave their posts should Usedi make a move on the former Emperor. The fool never suspected that I had switched the guards. That's in the past now.
I know that Usedi will want me as well. I have sent out hunting parties to search for him throughout the realm. It will do little good, I know. I suspect that he will return here for revenge. I will be waiting for him.
© Copyright 2006 thebluebook (someone101 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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