Fight to Die (Harry Styles)

Thirteen

Chapter 13

• Harry •

The gate opens for the third time. At least an hour has passed, maybe two, since the last two guys left the hallway where I still sit. I suppose they filled the time with other forms of entertainment. Whether that be a play, dancers, chariots, or beasts tearing apart criminals, I won't know.

I stand up from the floor and stretch out my neck and back before walking towards the bright light coming from outside. My heart pounds in my chest with each step; the deafening roar of the crowd only makes the seemingly loud noise even louder. The shield in my hand suddenly feels heavy as I walk out on to the bloodstained sand before the thousands of people.

"We present to you, the Celt!" A man says loudly over the shouting into some kind of speaker thing. The mob cheers louder at the knowledge of my name and I am reminded of Julia. "The Celt" wasn't good enough for her; she wanted- well, she wants to know my real name. No one has ever asked for my real name before; everyone has always been a part of this mob. I look around me, observing the thousands of people screaming for me- or rather, for death. There are men, women, and children here watching and that is utterly repulsive. What kind of culture is this that not only lets children watch gruesome deaths, but also encourages it?

It is a fallen world we live in, and it is more prominent to me now than it ever has been. I can almost feel the demons at work amongst those with influence, having their effect on the people below them. There is evil at work and I'm afraid it will prevail against anything good and pure. There is no telling when or if that will happen.

I am pulled from my thoughts by the loud voice booming throughout the now near silent Colosseum.

"The Celt has had nearly three-hundred kills and is one of the only living undefeated gladiators to date. He is the youngest we have ever had, starting in the arena at the age of sixteen."

The crowd cheers.

What he says is technically not true. I fought once when I was sixteen but didn't fight for two years after that, so really I didn't start fighting until I was eighteen.

"And now, we meet his opponent. Coming for the same district, I introduce you to Julius, the slayer, also undefeated."

The crowd cheers again and a gate on the opposite side of the arena opens. Out from the gate, runs this Julius and I instantly recognize him. He is the same man that I traveled here with. He knows me and I know him. Killing a man is easier when you know nothing about him; there is no connection and no sentiment that could hold you back from taking that man's life. That is why I don't make friends; we'll all end up killing each other anyway. The advantage that I would normally have from not knowing the man in front of me has disappeared, now making what I am required to do that much harder.

Julius strides towards me, holding his sword up in the air and shouting like a warrior does after battle. He clearly thinks he's going to win.

The crowd cheers in response of his action and I find myself thinking of the advice that Galerius gave us. Win the crowd and you might live. It is obvious to me that Julius is doing a far better job than I am in that area. I turn away from Julius and towards the section of the crowd where the sponsor sits, in the most luxurious seats with tables of food behind them. Golden statues surround this "VIP box" along with woven tapestries and servants.

Among this small crowd of important people is sat Felix and next to him is Julia. There are several others, but I don't bother to look at them. The only one I care about is honestly Felix. If I respect him and he knows this, then if it comes down to him having to choose whether I live or die, I have a better chance of a positive outcome. I stick my sword in the sand and kneel in front of Felix, bowing my head as a sign of the respect I hold for him.