The Atlantean Chronicles: Call of the Sea

Chapter Twenty

Diana heard the roar of the crowd long before she reached the arena. Too soon, it was too soon since the last time she'd been dragged out here. 

The wounds on her back had indeed closed, though they were still sore. Diana frowned, still trying to understand where Hroth's sudden sympathy towards her had come from. He'd disobeyed Meison to help her, had warned her of what was to come. She'd tried not to let herself grow concerned when he hadn't been the one to come retrieve her that morning.

The doors groaned open before Diana and her two escorts, pulling her from her thoughts. The small, circular arena was even more crowded than last time and the cheers of the crowd were almost unbearable.

The guards only took two steps in before stopping. Diana scowled at them, then gasped as they both shoved her in the back, sending her staggering forward into the center of the arena. Diana collapsed to her knees over that emblem in the floor, with a grunt.

She glanced over her shoulder, glowering at the two guards. One of them smirked before they both turned and exited. A door opened from somewhere else in the arena, pulling Diana's attention towards the sound.

She gasped as two more guards appeared, dragging someone between them. Arielle fell to her knees less than two steps inside the ring. Her skin was so pale, her hair hanging even more limply than the last time Diana had seen her.

Diana struggled to her feet, swaying slightly as she fought for balance. She'd made it no more than four steps to her sister when a jolt of energy struck her spine, causing her entire body to seize.

Diana collapsed, unable to catch herself this time. She rolled onto her side, gasping for breath. Meison stood over her, trident in hand, a sneer spread across his gruesome face. "Only winners get rewarded," he said, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

Diana bared her teeth at him, struggling to push herself up to her hands and knees. "What do I have to do?" she asked tightly, getting her feet back under her.

Meison took a step towards her until they were practically standing nose to nose. Diana was satisfied to see that while Meison was tall, he wasn't nearly as tall as Jacin or Reith and she hardly had to tip her head back to look at him.

Meison took a step away from her, twirling his trident. "You'll have to get past me!" he said, his voice rising so that the audience could hear.

The crowd roared, some rising to their feet and pumping their fists in the air. Diana scanned the crowd, relieved to see that many looked uncertain, some even disgusted.

Diana turned back to Meison and tensed her muscles, poised to fight. She tried to ignore the weakness in her limbs, the way her muscles trembled in her legs as if just standing was too much for her body to handle.

Meison smiled wickedly at her, that gruesome scar catching the light, make his face even more frightening to behold. "Right, let's get this over with then," Diana growled, taking a step away from him, lifting her arms up in a fighter's stance.

Diana dared a glance at Arielle, immediately regretting it when she saw the horror written on her sister's face. Their eyes met and Arielle began shaking her head furiously. Diana blinked apologetically at her sister. She knew it was hopeless, that she'd never be able to beat Meison in her current state, would probably never get to see her sister; but she had to try. She had to prove to the people watching that she would never go down without a fight.

Meison struck first, sending another blast of energy from his trident careening into Diana. The impact sent her flying across the arena. She bit back a scream of pain as her back struck the hard floor, the wounds threatening to split open.