Fear No More

Chapter Eighteen

As I lay in my three meter by four meter metal barred cell, my thoughts wondered to Rosalie. She seemed so detached. As if this was her real self. It broke me further when I saw her taking pleasure in my discomfort. In the hurt her appearance gave me. All I could do now was wait with my thoughts until I was taken somewhere else.

The bed I lay upon was a steel frame chained to the wall. With only a pillow and a thin heavily stained white blanket. The pain of everything finally coming forward. The pain of losing my dragon. My other self. The pain of losing another person who I thought could be someone I could love. Someone who I could lean on.

I felt empty. As if nothing was within me. No hope. No joy. No power. It was unnerving as well as breaking. How did I miss the fact that Rosalie was working for the enemies? How could I let myself fall into another doomed relationship? Why does this always happen to me?

I heard footsteps approaching my cell which caused me to quickly stand up with a slight sens of fear running through me. I backed up to the end of my cell trying to get to the end of it. I knew that if this person was here for me, then something must have been moved up. Maybe it was time for me to make my debut.

Then a man came into view, wearing light blue jeans with a dark red v-neck shirt. Only either side of his waist, hung a whip. He seemed to be just over six feet tall, with light brown eyes and dirty blonde curly locks. His jaw was hard set and his lips thin. His nose hooked slightly to the left as if broken a few times.

He came to a stop in front of my cell with a smirk upon his lips. The bars to the cell suddenly shifted and shot downwards, opening the cell to the outside.

"Come on." The man said with a slightly high pitched voice. A voice that did not match his medium muscular build. "It's time to die." He added as he took a step back waiting for me to exit.

I tried to think of ways to leave, but with no power it would be nigh impossible. So I gave up for now and decided to follow the man with the whips. I walked behind him for close to ten minutes before we descended now a few flights of stairs. The stairs leading to large heavy thick oak doors with an intricate flowing design carved into it.

I could only imagine what was going on behind this door. Wondering if this is truly the end for me. If this was really the time I would die.

Slowly the doors began to open revealing a dark room within. The sounds of metal clashing upon metal rang forth. The cheers of the crowd almost deafening as it reverberated throughout the darkened room.

Along the right side of the room, sat numerous weapon racks with a wide range of weapons being held. However, now bow could be seen. Most were blade type weapons, and some blunt. Most looked well used and fewer looked very unclean. Along the left side of the room, about halfway up, were barred openings, with space between the bars small enough to not allow an arm through. What the openings allowed us to see was the current arena. The current fights. It was designed to attack our hopes and our confidence. Showing us that it was real and not a joke.

I looked to my left just in time to see a large two handed broadsword being stabbed into a small frame. The smaller fighter had an athletic build, with a soft tone. His long blonde hair that reached his shoulders wet with sweat. His blood leaking from his wound and streamed down his back, while a stream ran along the sword and poured onto the ground. The smaller man released the short sword from his right hand as it fell to the ground with a soft thud.

The man with the sword was overly large. Making me think he was a bodybuilder in his past life. His life before entertainment. Before death. His shaven head, scarred across, gleamed with the perspiration emitted throughout the fight. Both wore only their rag trousers. The bigger fighter's trousers stained with blood from what I would expect to be his past fights.

He pulled the sword out as the crowd cheered. The intensity of the cheer gave the feeling that it was a very good fight. Maybe the smaller man put up a good fight?

"Pick a weapon." The man in front of me said suddenly, as he turned to face me. "You're up next." He added with a smirk.

I turned to the rack on my right and scanned over the available weapons. I knew I would have to fight. With my current situation and the sheer amount of people here, escape was absolutely impossible.

I scanned over the bladed weapons and found a decent sized sword, with a faded golden handle and a circle like ball at the bottom of the handle. The pommel was a thick half oval with the blade sprouting from the halved side. The blade started out with a decent thickness then forming the tip at the end. I faintly remember seeing a sword like this when I saw documentaries on Romans. 'Gladius' I think they were called. I picked two of them. They were the only swords I was truly aware of. 

I swung both around, getting a feel of them before the man behind me spoke once more.

"Come on then, the people are waiting." He said as he gestured for the single metal door to my right, on the wall opposite the entrance. A door that I did not notice upon my entrance. Slowly I walked towards the door, as the weight of what I was about to do came crashing down. This was not going to be a mere fight. I would have to kill this large man or else face death myself.

The man suddenly appeared behind me and pushed me towards the door. It slid open as if knowing that I was there. It would seem it had sensors to detect movement.

I stumbled through the door as I was met with a dark cold hallway. The hallway that immediately turned left. A few meters from me were the wooden doors that exited into the arena. 

"And now to face the undefeated champion, Juggernaught, we have a newly recruiter fighter." An announcers voice erupted forth causing the crowd to cheer once more. His voice quickly replaced with a more feminine and a more familiar voice.

"The new fighter was once a dragon." Rosalie said loudly as the cheered cheered far louder than before. "This is a fight that should rival the greatest. A fight that all would enjoy." She continued and I could almost imagine a large smile upon her lips. She was enjoying this. "Our challengers name is Arthur!" She added loudly as the doors suddenly opened outwards. The man behind me pushed me forward, at the same time he ripped my long sleeve shirt off of me, leaving me in my trousers.

I stumbled forward, as I took a glance behind me as the man tossed my shirt aside as if it was revolting for him to tough it. I continued to walk forward slowly, hoping to delay the inevitable. As I entered the arena, the sun blinded me slightly. The reflection off the vast sand before me, causing my eyes discomfort. The sand pressing between my toes.

The crowd booed at my entry making me aware who they wanted to win. The large man with the broadsword stood tall as he let the swords tip rest against the ground to his right. A look of disgust and concentration plastered across his face.

The scars scattered across my body suddenly making me wary. With the dragon's pride no longer with me, I felt ashamed to be putting them on display.

Suddenly loud footsteps erupted in front of me while I was within my little trance. The sound of which, brought me out. I looked up and saw the large man sprinting towards me with his broadsword in both hands and pointing behind him. I could see his muscles tense as he put his power into his swing.

I stood shocked at the sudden beginning, as I watched the sword get closer and closer to me. Wondering what I should do.