The Dunehei Chronicles | Book One: A Roseless Thorn

Chapter 6 Rebellious Rescue

Myrra couldn't help but watch the Chimera- no, Aster, continue his beautiful yet vicious dance one fight after another. He was covered in blood now, both his own and that of those he'd killed. His makeup was ruined, his clothes torn, his fur matted, his hair shaken loose from the tight braid it had been in. Yet despite all that, she still found him absolutely stunning to look at.

Another criminal dropped to the ground in a heap, blood pouring from numerus cuts and gashes that littered their body. Aster backed away from the corpse as guards ran out to remove it from the field. She could tell he was tired from the way his eyes drooped and his arms hung limply at his sides. It wasn't surprising seeing as he'd been fighting nonstop for nearing 2 hours straight.

King Ortho finally stood up, raising his hands up high to quiet the cheering crowd. She thought he was about to announce the conclusion to the event seeing as his fighting slave looked like he was going to collapse from exhaustion any second. She was surprised by what he said next.

"Good people of Idota! Today's arena fights have been as entertaining as usual, but they are not over just yet!" began King Ortho, "As you all know, the rebel group calling themselves White Claw has been a disruptive force for the past 5 years, causing chaos and mayhem in the streets and threatening the safety and security of this great nation!" Ortho clenched his fists in triumph and his expression took on a murderous glee that had Myrra on edge.

"Today though, we strike these rebels a heavy blow as we send one of their leaders, the infamous Mara Dune, into the arena!" The crowd erupted into cheers, the noise so loud that she couldn't even hear herself think. It was much more obvious to her now that the people in the stands were supporters of Ortho and his ideals. She shouldn't have been surprised, every ruler like Ortho had a group of supporters that they would use to stroke their own egos. What better way to stroke one's ego than to fill a stadium with said supporters who would clap and cheer at everything you said.

***

Aster blinked blearily, his eyes barely staying open as he listened to his master speak. Silently he hoped for the king to call today's blood sport to an end, but of course, luck was not on his side.

He perked up a bit as he discovered his next opponent was to be a leader of the rebellion his master so despised. Any time the king received bad news that involved the rebellion, Aster was the one the king took his anger out on. Of course, that wasn't anything new, he had been on the receiving side of his master's ire more times than he could count. Today, though, if he made his performance of killing this rebel a spectacular one, then perhaps the king would show him some mercy, maybe even give him a candle to light up his dark cell.

The gates on the other side of the arena began to grind open, metal scratching against stone as the internal mechanisms raised the heavy metal grate. He could do this, one last fight, he had the strength for it. He had to impress the people, had to impress the king, the diplomat, everyone. He shook himself, dispelling a bit of the fatigue that was starting to grip his body and mind. Yet his thoughts still felt muddy and sluggish. He dropped into a crouch, claws digging into the blood stained sand beneath him as he readied himself.

The gate finished opening and a shadowy figured stood beneath the archway. They looked a lot smaller than he was expecting but he knew not to judge an opponent by their size. He himself was small yet he'd slain orcs easily double his size if not more.

The figure stepped out from underneath the archway and Aster tilted his head in confusion. The afternoon sun revealed the figure to be a relatively young woman. She was pale skinned, thin as a twig, and her face was so gaunt that if it was not for the piercingly blue eyes that stared at him with determination from behind a mess of brown hair, he would have mistook her for a wraith.