Chapter 5: Lana

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LANA

"The Stadium, despite being condoned by the Kingdom, remains as intact as ever. There is too much revenue within the system for it to be destroyed, and it has been rumored that the Royal Militia itself receives fighters from within the Stadium's ranks."

The Public Insider Newspaper clipping
6011 Year, Frigus Season
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Lana just remembered running-it seemed it was all she did. She was running from her memories, running from her feelings, and, at the moment, running from an Ogre. Its barbaric body lumbered after her, wielding a spear of a fading, bronze-colored dragon hide. Dragon weapons were hardly seen since the new laws, and especially in the hands of a Stadium fighter, but this was no typical battler. He was Olk the Ogre, notorious for never loosing a battle.

So, naturally, the Stadium Court put him up against a small, aged thirteen creature. Luckily, Lana had fighting blood. She knew thousands of bets were placed on her to win or be defeated.

Olk let loose a yell of anger in his pursuit, frustrated with her quick movements. Though she was no Pixie or Szithorith, many years of Stadium fighting trained her well. The colossal crowd cheered and clapped, screeching out the contestants names in repetitive chants.

Lana decided she'd please the crowd. They were what kept her from being vended, after all.

She halted suddenly and turned to meet the Ogre, except he'd gained so much momentum that when he tried to stop he tripped on his own feet and fell against the dirt, his massive weight rippling the ground. Laughter erupted all around them. Lana knew this was her chance-kill him while he was stunned-but her father had taught her to be fair.

She peered down her dark, freckled nose at the Ogre. He was slow to get up, his loincloth the only offer of decency. The crowd descended into another fit of cackling.

"Why do you spare me?" Olk asked, spitting dirt out of his mouth. "I wouldn't have done the same for you."

"I like to kill my enemies as much as you, Ogre, just not when they're helpless on the ground."

His massive face became red. He rushed to his feet while his meaty hand swung the dragon hide spear in circles, sending waves of refreshing wind towards her.

"You're a child," he spat from a mouth of many missing teeth, "so I will at least give you the peace of dying quick-"

Lana moved before the last word escaped his mouth. She cleared the distance between them in a matter of seconds, dirt spilling into the air behind her in a cloud of brown. As Lana reached for the sheaths in her waist and gripped the stone handles of her daggers, Olk dived to the side, simultaneously slashing out with his spear.

It caught the side of her shirt fabric, ripping and digging into her skin. Lana felt the flesh tear, felt the cool metal graze tissue. The crowd gasped, but she didn't make a sound. She was no novice to pain. Blood flowed down her torso, staining her clothes, but she turned on Olk with the same speed she had a moment ago. His face was painted with smugness, reminding the crowd who he was.

Lana assessed her situation while thousands of onlookers cheered. The sound was deafening. It used to shake her bones, but now it was like a melody to her ears, focusing her attention. She was fast and small but injured; he was large yet slow and dim. He had immense strength and a dragon hide weapon at his side. She almost scowled at herself for sticking with her daggers; they were ridiculous to use against a spear, but she'd never seen a battle without them and hadn't wanted to start now.

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