From the Pit

Champion of The Pit

I watch as my city burns to the ground, waiting for the pillagers to come and kill me. My kingdom, destroyed before my very eyes, crumbles under the destruction of the Alpha Minorus. We, the Alpha Majoris, were the ruling class of the entire realm. We ruled with patience and kindness, but that much was not afforded to us as they tore our city from us and slaughtered my family. The only reason for my survival is my servant, Malia, and father's fighting lessons from when I was younger. 

I turn to Malia and she smiles sadly at me. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Princess." My eyebrows raise as she begins to disappear, as if she were smoke. "What do you mean, Mal?" I reach out to her and her image disperses, leaving me in the ruins of my father's palace. Alone. Then I remember. I was taken and they separated us. My short hair and flat chest led them to believe we were a couple, so they took her from me and threw me into a slave fighting ring. The faces of all the men I have killed make their slow procession through my mind, a new face added every few hours.

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I wake from my dream and gasp for air, tears running down my grimy face. One of the slaves shifts in his sleep beside me and I stand up, going to the bars of our cell and looking around. I am the last of the Majoris royal family. My knotted hair clings to my sweaty neck as a man comes down the aisle, looking into every cell along the way. His eyes meet mine and he sneers before grabbing the key to my cell, which I shared with nine other men. If they knew who I was, I would have been killed long ago by the guards' swords. "Alright, Champion. Time for another fight. This one is special though. I hear the Commander of the King's Army is here to hire some slaves to join his ranks, seeing as his army has been getting smaller. The plague packs a punch, friend."

I back away from the cell door as he swings it towards me. He detaches my chains from the wall and drags me down the hall. I watch as other men are removed from their cells, sleep still fogging their sights as they stumble alongside their handlers. I hold my head high as I follow my handler into the bright light of the desert sun, blinking to lessen the blinding sensation. I hear the crowds before I see them. All ten of us are led into the middle of the ring and our handlers detach our chains warily. I notice that the other men they've gathered are the rest of the top ten fighters in our hell. Jossen, a broad and dark man, looks over at me and grins. It seems he remembers his vow to defeat me from our last brawl. He's ranked number two in our prison, only second to me.

I examine his body and notice his injuries from our last fight scarring and bruising his arms, torso, and face. His legs, which had been shredded by my teeth, were bandaged tightly. He wouldn't have his quick pace today. I look at the other men and notice their injuries as well. Some were not as bad as others. We had all fought only a few hours ago, but we were the better entertainment for the crowds, so we were overused. I raise my eyes to the crowd and notice a dark hood covering a single man's face. He was flanked by two men in full battle armor who both stared at me. I could feel the man's eyes follow me as I sat down in the dusty sand, my barely covered body stinging at the feeling of the hot sand on my skin. We, as the top ten, were allowed clothing, which I was glad for. My dusty red tunic billowed in the wind and my loose pants showed the leanness of my legs. Despite being here for three years, I had not built up any more muscle than what I had when I was captured. I had lost what little fat I had after the first month in this hell. My skin was marred with scars from my first two years. Since then, I had not gotten injured again.

The warriors and the cloaked man make their way to the front of the crowd, their burning gaze scanning every slave, but always returning to me. Fenlan, our announcer, comes to stand beside us and forces me to stand again, his face hard with anger. "Welcome to the Pit! Please place your bets now! Here we have out best fighters for your entertainment, ladies and gentlemen! Bet on the fighter most likely to line your pockets!" We all watched the betting board as the thousands were marked with tallies.

"For those of you who don't know our fighter's names, here they are! Gengral!" He points to the tall and light man with many tattoos and a scar over his eye. I remember giving him that cut. "Kienas!" The once-handsome man raises his fists, rage filling his eyes. "Fondrake!" Fon lifts his head and looks at the crowd, a glare settled permanently onto his face. "Clario, Mandrade, and Henley!" The men all nod toward the crowd when their name is said. "Yunkio and Jeraio, both from the same native land!" Yun and Jer both glare at Fenlan. "Jossen!" Jossen jogs around the arena, hyping up the crowd as he whoops and hollers back to his place in line. "And finally, we have our Champion!" I place my fist above my heart and bow to the crowd, a common hello among soldiers.

Fenlan moves to his cage in the center of the arena to announce the beginning of the series of fights we would endure. "First up we have two sets of five with our second and first best as the last fighters! The two series will be like so; Fondrake, Clario, Mandrade, Yunkio, and Jossen! Then we have Gengral, Kienas, Henley, Jeraio, and Champion! The first two fighters from each series are; Fondrake and Yunkio, Gengral and Henley! Begin!"

We all back away as the men go at each other, growling like feral beasts. Blood splatters onto the sand and I cringe. Even after all this time, the brutality still makes me want to run far away. A few minutes later, Yunkio and Gengral emerge from their fights victorious as nurses carry Fondrake and Henley off to the medical area. Genlan announces the next two groups of fighters as the crowd cheers wildly. "Clario and Mandrade! Kienas and Jeraio! Begin!" The guys go to the open area of the arena and fight as I watch, finding every weakness.

Clario's leg seems to be bothering him today. Mandrade's having trouble throwing left hooks despite them being his best move. Kienas' shoulder is stiff. Jeraio seems fine, but his head's not in it. He's distracted. I notice his eyes flashing to the cloaked man in the crowd. He wants to impress the scout, but it's too much of a distraction. Kienas manages to bring Jeraio to the ground and raises his hand in victory. The crowd roars it's approval and I look at the betting board again. My name has eighty tallies next to it, the most of anyone else's.

Fenlan announces that I will be fighting both Yunkio and Kienas once Clario and Mandrade finish up, so I begin to stretch, ready to let this be over. Fenlan is probably going to have me fight every man in this arena before I can go back to my cell, so I can't use too much energy on this fight. Yunkio and Kienas glare at me from across the arena, their fists clenched. They remember every fight we've had. They've never come out on top, but they think they'll win since there's two of them. But there can only be one winner. And it won't be them.

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Hey guys! This story is based off a dream that I had, so I hope that it goes well! Let me know what you think. I know this chapter is short, but it is only an introduction! In the next chapter, you will find out why she is the Champion.