Fighting, Honour and Valhalla || Vikings x The Originals x TVD

Viking and The Witcher: Year 3 End

"Begin!"

With that single word, the once relatively calm colosseum, containing the laughing of children, the arguing of friends and the simple moments that people share with each other. It all disappeared. What replaced it was battle, blood lust, pure anger and hatred. The crowd that had been so calm earlier cheered it all on till their voices went hoarse. They called out for blood, they called out for the fighters they bet on to kill their opponents. Even the children were excited at the witness of such bloodshed.

Gladiatorial combat had been banned in the Roman Empire for hundreds of years, the last one taking place nearly 400 years ago. The Byzantine empire was no exception, they considered the sport to be unchristian like the empire before them and when the western and eastern empires split they kept the law in place. Never allowing the cruel sport in the empire ever again.

But now look at them.

Hundreds of men stand in the sand, ready to tear each other apart for the smallest hope of a better life. Some want gold. Some want freedom. Some just want a death they can choose. They fight with everything they have, while thousands cheer for them to suffer. I watched as one man was disemboweled with a hooked blade, and the crowd applauded like they'd seen a play.

Some of them gouged out eyes. Some crushed skulls. Some dragged the bodies across the sand like trophies. And the people—men, women, and children—laughed. Laughed like it was all a game.

I looked across the crowd. Thousands of faces howling for blood, but... I saw others too. A few. Dozens maybe. They were quiet. Still. I saw a few of them begin to tremble. One man fell to his knees. A woman turned and fled. Some just sat, faces pale, as though they were seeing something they had managed to ignore all their lives.

It was like they'd finally woken up. Like they looked down and realised just how far humanity has fallen.

I know that feeling. I felt it long ago.

I sat in the noble box beside the Empress. I was meant to be honoured. To be flattered. This was all for us, they said. This entire nightmare staged in our name. I watched the blood spill and felt nothing but a deep, dry sorrow. I've cried before. I've wept for strangers, for friends, for the world. But not today. Today there were no tears left.

Because I understand what this is.

This is human nature.

For every man who tries to pull the world forward, a thousand will drag it back. That's the truth. That's always been the truth. One man builds, the others tear it down. One man dares to speak honestly, and the rest burn him alive for it. There's no balance in our nature. Just weight. And it always pulls downward.

No creature on this earth is as cruel as man. A wolf kills to feed. A lion kills to defend. But man kills for pride. For laughter. For the sound of bone cracking beneath their feet. No animal locks its own kind in cages. No beast starves its family to keep the rich well-fed. No creature flays its brother to prove it holds power.

Only man does that. And worse. Always worse.

We use the words "God" and "mercy" and "justice" as if they mean anything. But our hands are soaked in blood. We preach forgiveness while punishing the poor. We speak of honour while selling our daughters to the highest bidder. Every kingdom, every throne, every altar... it's all built on backs we've broken.

Eight centuries after Christ died for the sins of humanity, what has become of them?

We lie. We betray. We kill. We cheer as others are ripped apart before our eyes and call it civilisation.

There has never been a more cursed breed of creature than human. And there never will be.

— Journal Extract From ???