The Arena

The new prisoner

That night was one of the few moments that Alera was actually thankful that her cell was the last one and that there were so many empty slots between her and the other prisoners. She was pacing, circling the small space so many times that she lost count. She was desperate for news, desperate to see Tellor return. 

Several times, she thought she had heard footsteps and in the few seconds that she waited to see the outcome, she realised she was trembling slightly. It took her a great deal of effort to keep calm and in those moments when she stood still, listening, her darkest thoughts mawed at her like a horde of demons that took advantage of the fact that she couldn’t turn them away.

So she kept pacing, hoping for the best and trying desperately to clear her mind of gory images in which Tellor accompanied Asendriel in a dark puddle of blood, outside the arena walls.

As she expelled the last image of their lifeless bodies that awaited the hungry coyotes and vultures, she heard steps again, but this time they were real. She froze in her place as she heard the familiar metal doors squeaking loudly and she counted four pairs of steps. She didn’t dare look, afraid to see that Tellor wasn’t with them. But as they came closer and closer, the small hope she had buried deep in her chest, started flourishing. Swallowing her heart, she sneaked a peak between the bars and she breathed relieved when she saw his blonde hair. He was alive. Without saying another word, the three guards that accompanied him left and locked the dungeon doors behind them, as silence and darkness fell over the quiet cells.

‘You’re aliv-’, she started, searching for his hand between the bars. She wanted to touch him, to feel his warm skin and make sure he wasn’t a ghost that came to say his last farewells.

‘He’s alive!’ he interrupted her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

Alera remained speechless.

‘Are...are you sure?’, she added shyly.

‘Yes! I spoke to Safina and she said he should be all healed up by now’.

Alera felt a huge wave of relief washing over her. Her words battled inside the mouth and she couldn’t decide what to say first. She wanted more details, she wanted to thank him, she wanted to ask Tellor if he was alright after the fight, she wanted to scold him for his risky idea, she wanted to hug and see them both...As she opened her mouth, she realised her tears were running down her face for some time now. She sniffed her nose and Tellor squeezed her hand.

Tellor started telling her the details, recounting his discussion with Safina. He mentioned that one of the guards stayed and listened, keeping an eye on him and he also mentioned the black raven comparison. They both fell asleep shortly after, Tellor before her from exhaustion.

Alera’s mind was full of thoughts of Asendriel and this time, there was no blood, nor death. She even imagined they would see him soon, but was a week and a half enough time for Baruing to end his punishment? She imagined holding his big, warm hand again and her heart skipped a beat, while her cheeks loosened up in a small smile. But at that time, she also felt a tint of guilt, as Tellor  involuntarily gripped her hand in his sleep, as if reading her mind. 

Morning came and while all the other prisoners made their way into the arena, Alera thought that if Asendriel was alive, would Baruing pair them both again in a deathmatch? If the Black Chamber hadn’t broken him, would he find another way to do it?

The guards opened her cell and she counted two. So, Baruing thought there was no need for additional security. They closed the dungeon doors, but as they walked, Alera realised they weren’t going to the arena and a chill ran down her spine as she recognized the way to Baruing’s study.

She saw the familiar dark brown wooden door, behind which he awaited her for who knows what reason, but as they got closer, the guard behind her came near her and whispered into her ear so softly that is was only for her to hear:

‘Your black raven is dead’.

Alera felt the floor crumbling beneath her feet, as she turned, looking at him with huge eyes, but he wasn’t even looking at her, and nothing on his face betrayed that he had ever spoken to her that day.

Faintly, as if coming from far away, she heard Baruing’s voice granting them permissions to enter his chamber and without even realising, she stepped in. She was somehow surprised to see him so soon. It was as if a few days had passed since she entered the corridor that leads to his room and the guard may or may have not whispered something to her.

What did he say again? Something about a bird...a raven that died. But it made no sense. She looked at Baruing with empty eyes as her mind started screaming in the back of her head: ‘He’s alive! Alive! Asendriel is alive!’

‘It’s been so long, my dear!’, he said with a sweet voice.

‘My Lord’, Alera answered, composing her face carefully. Baruing shouldn’t be aware of her thoughts.

He looked at her as if searching for something, but after a short while, maybe concluding that it’s not there, he continued:

‘We have a new...prisoner’.

The pause he made betrayed nothing good, but Alera waited for him to continue without changing her expression.

‘You will fight him today. He’s a bit...different, as you will see’. An evil smile crept in the corner of his lips. Was he referring to the blood elf?

‘I will fight whomever my Lord wishes’.

‘Perfect! Well then, to your victory!’, he said, pushing a cup in her direction and pulling a similar one in front of him.

She looked down and saw what seemed to be a cup full of golden mead.

‘With your permission.’, she said, lifting the cup and drinking.

Baruing noded and sipping from his cup, he called the guards. Alera left her own cup on the table and returned, accompanying the guards on their way to the arena.

She felt hot and her palms started sweating from anxiety. What was this new prisoner like and what was so special about him? What if it really was Asendriel…? She clenched her clammy hands. No, this time he will survive no matter what.

After she changed, she took her daggers and entered her cell, scouting the arena. There was no one already out and, looking at the other cells, she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She had spotted Tellor and hoped to see Asendriel as well, but he was nowhere in sight. The sun seemed to scorch the ground as the light was starting to hurt her eyes.

Baruing's voice came from above her, announcing the first fight and, to her surprise, it wasn’t hers. She watched as the prisoners ran and fought in the blazing heat, until one of them died. When his blood covered the ground, she had expected to see it entering the dry earth, but it remained there, shining in a puddle at the winner’s feet, mesmerizing her for what felt like hours.

‘...our lady of death, Alera!’

She only heard the last few words, including her name as the bars were lifted and the crowd cheered something incomprehensible.