Soul Swords and Blood Money
By: Mikaila Davidson

This story have been rated T for mild blood and gore, mild language, fantasy violence, and overall violence...please enjoy if you are twelve and older.
Bolded words in this story express the emotion and importance of how the main character sees it.

Link the Norwegian Forest cat twitched his ears and tail at the passing villagers while sitting on the cobble stone road next to my side. I picked up my agile fluffy companion so no pushy inconsiderate humans would step on him, and to direct his attention to our next destination.
The marketplace in the outskirts of Tiber; in Rome, were cluttered with sale stalls and people of all shapes and colours. We weaved through the crowd to get out of the main street and on to the landing walkway. To the left was the docks scattered with ships of all types and to the right was the expanding city as far as the eye could see, well at least from the west side of Tiber.
Link truly knew where we were going form our last visit in Rome, in matter of fact and jumped out of my arms to lead the way.
Link beckoned me to follow as he usually did with a meow (a fairy cat he is) as I stepped forward in return.
The only company we had down that alley-of-a-walkway was crates, barrels, and rotting fish (besides the few people at the end, crowding a decorative doorway to a great building).
Humans in the market, seagulls on the docks, the drumming crowd in the great building , the clunking sound of my Holy boots and everything else metal on my body filled my ears and the walkway with sound.
Link and I decided to take a break from our jobs and visit the city of Tiber again. Don’t think we’re poor puny pedlars, no sir! The job of a thief does put food in our bellies and keeps us healthy too! I, specifically, am hired to steal (and possibly assassinate) particular richer-than-me people for a living. That’s how Link and I met Alecktoe six years ago when I was still a twelve-year-old girl. Sigh...Memories...Link has only changed in maturity and knowledge since then. Back to job; I carry two wave blades, a ton of money, and everything else I have stolen (which includes four fair-sized daggers, armour, and every other article of clothing besides my green sleeveless robe tunic and undergarments).
I gained six years of experience, six years under service of Alecktoe, six years with Link (my first payment), and fifteen years away from my homeland, England. And yet not one day I regret. I smirked at Link’s zigzag actions of waving his tail and smelling every object in curiosity as we got closer to the Lakeside Coliseum.
Now why a girl and her cat would be heading to a coliseum not for show you ask? The air is cool with excitement and adrenalin, perfect conditions to find what you’re look’n for. All women wore some sort of dress in Rome so I stuck out like a doe with antlers. No one could stop me with weapons strapped to my body (my defender Link too, occasionally). Ha, not even one Caesar could change that!
Alecktoe had two jobs of a “teacher of all thieves” and the master of a small team of gladiators. An awkward combination: coward and bravery he teaches. He’s a good man for a jack ass. Actually, kinda cruel if you think so...Teaching children to be thieves so when they’re older as slaves or criminals, he can take them into the coliseum to be killed. Neither Link nor I wanted to take the front door due to the armour piercing eyes, so we, as in I, sidled against the right-hand side wall to the back of the coliseum were the gladiators prepare. Luckily, this was the poorest, mixed race, less ruled part of Tiber or else Roman spies would be out to get me.
Link strayed behind me, now as nervous as I was being around men thirty-times older, bigger, and stronger than me, in search for Alecktoe.
Truly, the child within you never leaves.
At least the slowly setting sun helped a pint.
Link ceased to follow me at the door, knowing how cruel humans can be. My heart was jogging but I ignored it and peered into the doorway, hoping no one would walk out.
A coliseum isn’t my place, even when I visited here once a long time ago.
From what I could see, the preparation area had not changed (well besides the gladiators and their skill levels). Straight ahead was a corridor that led to a gate blocking the great entrance into the battle arena of the coliseum. As of the past; the walls were still covered with weapons and armour in all murderous forms.
You shan’t ever see a larger group of men turn hostile anywhere else.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Link wander off (which means go ahead in his term) so I jumped of the wall and walked in.
Luckily, for my sake, Glads of both teams were wandering around, preparing for battle and unbelievably never noticed. Thank my hooded cape and stealth for that!
To the right was my master’s green team of gladiators, wearing their sleeveless robe tunics, leather braces, abductor belts, shin guards, leather sandals and anything else they equipped themselves with. He wasn’t over there or with the other teams’ red Glads on the left side (and fur carpeting, lucky rats).
This I discovered well standing in the middle of the room aimlessly now getting glanced at.
Heh...The last time I was in here was after I punched a kid in the face for yanking at my pony tail six years ago ,with Alecktoe of course (children don’t just walk into gladiator preparation rooms without getting killed).
My thief instincts popped in when I saw a man at the front of the room wearing a robe with a shiny cramped loot sack attached loosely to it. I forgot my fears (even with the two men standing in front of him), circled around them and moved in for the mug. The man had a piece of Egyptian parchment, quill and seemed to be drawing the names of gladiators told from the two men.
I, foolhardily, decided to steal from the east side of “money-bags” where the man on the front right could see the crime being committed.
As I acted out an accidental bump and masculine choke sound, and sliced his loot sac right off. I flickered my eyes to the other man but it was too late; he had seen and planned already.
Too late I was to skitter away because the man had announced my crime with a “hey!” and lunge. I froze with shoulders up, grip loosened, and teeth bared with a shock after he yanked off my hood.
Oh snap! What am I to do now?
Everyone went quiet, except for the scribe man who had to exclaim, “a woman?!?!”. As me capturer walked around to the front of thee; pressure from his steps, the Glads mutters, and Link’s meows at the front of the door cracked me in half. I looked down, shaking, until the stomps of his beckoning knocked my chin up.
I didn’t know who it was till his leather knee-high sandals, faded blue sleeveless robe tunic, iron abductors belt, iron braces, and grey elbow-length undone robe reminded me of an old master.
He cocked is head and squinted his eyes as if trying to recognize me. I just stared back at him with my “in-trouble” winced face until I suddenly realized the scar from the tip of his left eyebrow across his eye to the tip of his cheek nearest to the nose.
Could it be?
“Mick...is that you?” replied my master with his youthfully hardcore voice. A smile lit my face from Alecktoe’s “a little too close” presence.
“Master, I finally found you!” I announced the obvious before being knocked over from his strong pat to my left shoulder.
Ouch, noth’n better than getting your shoulder pad and hood forced into or away from you. Aleckto was now in his thirties (still towering above me), had a stronger beaten face and body, and shortened dirty-blond hair since the last time I saw him.
Age truly grew us all.
No matter how many years went by, you could never slap the smirk off his face. Aleckto was still without children (except us orphans) and with wine.
Alecktoe, forgetful as usual, forgot the crime and beckoned me with a tap of a kick to follow him over to his Glads.
Truly a gladiator, but with a spirit of a friend he was.
The room was filled with noise again after we started walking, as if interest died then!
The scribe yelled, “Ouy what about me cash?!?!” so I threw the sack loot back and hit him in the face by the sounds of it. We laughed from our random meeting and my exceptionally good throwing skills as eyes followed.
Alecktoe looked up and down at me as if finally noticing the change and weapons now!
“Well, well, well... I see you’ve grown a couple feet.” He complimented happily while tugging at my hair.
I nodded happily in agreement (and to fix my hair) and patted my blades on my back to gesture growth in knowledge as well.
As we walked past his seemingly envious Glads, Aleckto asked where Link was. Before I had a chance to reply, Link sprinted in like a lion (with his baby-ish meow entre) and into my arms. He snickered at that as I stroked Link’s shiny oily earth mixture coat.
Alecktoe sat us down on some empty square shaped stools at the back in the corner, next to a random blood stained drape.
He started the conversation with a “has it really been that long?” after a chug of wine. “Heh...I remember getting you to make you mine, but you’re such a bitch’n pain in me ass!” laughed Alecktoe while taking another sip.
I held my thoughts of gladness that he didn’t or I’d of killed him in some way. Instead I scowled and replied in an irritated tone, “Apparently so...gee thanks master” from his truthful comment.
Clearly, he was just a little drunk to happiness from his laughing.
The Glads stared at me while continuously preparing, in anger.
“So now yer’ armed with more than a dagger I see” while looking at my wave blades, Alecktoe curiously mentioned.
“Yeah, earned these four years ago” I proudly answered with the knowledge I held about them. From my point of view, he nodded to give him some time now to thing about his little servant half as powerful as he was.
“Say Mick...” asked Alecktoe in a quick turn of seriousness.
“Yes?”
“Would you be interested in doing me a favour before I send you away?”
“Of course!” I openly replied as a servant and friend would do.
He smirked bluntly as if a nasty thought ran through his confusing mind. My smile dropped to a blank stare as I realised how stupid my obedient answer was.
Oooh no!
“Great, uh you’re out in round six, so show em’ what yer’ made of!” , announced he who laughed afterwards from his power.
“WHAT!?!?!” I exclaimed while standing up in shock (poor Link, bounced to the ground under our stool).
Now the Glads and the other master caught the attention we hammered out and gathered around us.
“Master you can’t let a woman fight in gladiator games!”
“It’s against the law!”
“She’ll be killed” were some of the cries of the closest gladiators at our feet.
I backed up a pace to not get involved with the argument (even though I half agreed with those pleads but took the acceptance of my master’s choice).
The other master stepped his bald scared big robed self into this argument with a futile point against my master “Yun-Sheoung won’t allow it. He’ll have you both in dungeons or killed.”
Alecktoe stood up, studied me for answers and faced his momentarily rivals with the serious expression her pulled on me (some how with a belly full of wine!).
“Why does it matter?!?! Is it because we made them that way? Never underestimate... master smith. We’re all meant to die!!!” he well stated angry in a rougher-than-usual tone.
Clearly, his perverseness left him moments ago either that or his teacher instinct popped in.
“Just hood yourself, keep your back to the king, and try not to talk” recommended my great master but as a command to not get us busted by the soldiers.
Aleckto turned to threaten er command them more but I didn’t pay attention this time.
Breathe deeply, gasp, pressure!
I listened again to hear... “Lastly, any man who speaks a word to the king will have a sword lodged in ye skull so deep yer ancestors can feel it! You hear!” before he disbanded everyone who surround us.
Some spat at my feet as they left while “master smith” cursed me.
Ha, ridged no good men!
I sat down in pure amazement as Link hopped on my lap to calm me.
Alecktoe followed my actions, asked, “if there’s any possessions you’d like me to hold onto while you battle, now is the time...You can beat’em, I know you can my little mule.” and made a donkey laugh mixture of a sound.
I rolled my eyes just as Link flattened his ears at Alecktoe’s knee slapping laughter.
“Oh yes, your name suites you: kind, wise, and mildly powerful. Gee thanks for the new nickname and encouragement master. As of possessions, hold on to my necklace for me. Don’t want it gett’n damaged in battle” I followed sarcastically till the end when I handed him my iron ring attached to a copper chain.
He and Link studied it for a brief moment till his hand closed in agreement.
“All right then” Alecktoe replied as encouragingly as possible and stood up.
He tapped my knee in gesture of, “repare yourself! See ya.” before he left me there clueless.
I looked over at the other Glads to see that they were just the same as the ones on my team.
This shouldn’t be hard...yeah.
My team gladiators were looking at me weird until master directed their attention to him for some encouraging words.
The two masters left the room to the arena with their first fighters. Once the doors shut, the crowd exploded with excitement and entrustment.
Now I could really smell the blood, sweat, torch smoke, and filth of endless battles that rotted in this room.
The battles continued on forever and many dead or nearly dead gladiators were rushed from the arena, to this very room, and out on the streets.
I would have helped attend the wounds but all the Glads saw me as their enemy more than a woman now. Plus they seemed to know what they were doing anyway.
Link just sat on my lap, trying to comfort and give ideas. I couldn’t talk to him here of all places or else the scribe man would have me burned as a witch.
Link knew that and gestured breaking a neck with his jaws lightly around my wrist. Good idea hit them in their fatal point! I rewarded him with continuous strokes to his fore head. Link truly was the wisest of all cats. I have no idea how a cat from Norwegian made it to Rome alive, and still in young healthy condition.
Okay, off topic, yes Link is a great cat.
I studied the damages of the Glads to be patched up from a far distance (still at my stool).
Most of the damages were huge, horrid, and bleeding excessively.
All though you either got killed or hit once or twice in gladiator games (hits are fatal, so getting just one could slowly kill you).
Heh, funny seeing men in pain… now they know how women feel.
Briefly, I would hear rude rumours of me being gay from the gladiators on my team, making pleasure of it.
Grrr, I’d throw some loose cobble stones for saying that… but that would start a fight.
Gladiator games have to do with entertaining the crowd (and king), so I have to make it interesting and a near-death sudden win.
But … I have to live through it, so striking the head, neck, spine, heart, and shoulder blades will do. Now why shoulder blades you ask? So they can’t defend themselves or attack!
Luckily, men are slow so I have an advantage. Speed is the key, so go in for cat slices and retreat back for dodging or defence.
And, if all means necessary... stab the heart (with one of my four daggers of course ...even though that’s plain dirty fighting).
Okay.........I’m going to be in battle any minute now, so I might as well prepare my stance. I put down “light-sleeper Link”, brushed the cat hair off and stretched my arms upwards.
I continued to fix my outfit so none of it would screw me up in battle by: retying my green Caribbean pirate bandana, making sure my Roman white Caesar cape was clipped on right and tightening the straps on my iron armoured bra (from India) hidden under my tunic.
Next I checked my dodge braces and holy boots, untied my sheaths (while catching them) and pulling each delicate wave blade out.
They greeted their master with a “shing” sound and danced their starry reflections on the roof. I examined my two blades for cracks and other damages, but only found a blinding shine and a couple old blood stains.
Stepping forward I did now, with the sheaths bare on the stools and Link under them. When I positioned myself the right way with handle heads to inner and outer elbows, it as I assumed caught the attention of all eyes around me. I ignored the insulting stares to concentrate, close my eyes and briefly visualize my next move.
As soon as my hands were down to my rib cage, I flashed my eyes open, and let loose several waves starting from lower hand, back to rib cage in a rowing pattern.
Just to let ye know, women make more noise and talk in battle then men do. As proven from my “Yaaaaaaaaaaaah!” sound effect during the slashes.
I forgot how good it felt to swing my wave blades around; the breeze from each swing, the power propulsion through your arms and the fear in your opponent’s eyes. I let my weapons fall to my sides after approximately seven individual slashes cut the air. Some grim eyes continued with their chatting as I stepped further forward to perform a back flip (in means of dodge).
Next I bent my body slightly; double-taked to make sure Link wasn’t in the way, and counted to three in my head.
Luckily my practises of bridges when I was a child helped.
I quickly flipped backward, stretching every muscle in my body and pressured my hands against the cold stone floor. As you guessed it, I flipped back up making a “hup!” breath into stance.
Now adrenalin jolted through my veins which resulted in a smirk and wild vivid green eyes.
I remembered my defence stance and really put it to use when all of a sudden... An extremely strong smash forced me into the wall came out of nowhere. The attack was so strong, that merely defending it hurt (or just bruises if you prefer) and that’s why the shock wave bumped me into the wall.
What in the name of hell?!?!
I opened one of my winced eyes to see Link rubbing against my legs and Alecktoe a couple feet away, armed with a circular metal shield.
The man smirked at my shocked face and breathed, “Oh good...yer ready!” at me.
My god, come at me so fast without warning! Thanks for the early shocker.
“Come” beckoned my master followed by a sudden walk away as I leaped after him (trying to be not tripped as well by the others).
Link followed me all the way to the gate, and inside it, but no further. My heart was pounding like the excitement raged crowd behind those doors.
Alecktoe gave his final words, “you’re in Rome, and in a gladiator match...maybe you should take off...,” while scanning me before I interrupted him.
“Oh yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you! Ha! You wish!” I snarled back from his male behaviour in an alarmingly raised voice.
He looked down, snickered, kicked open the doors, laughed “Good luck, Picklelow (pronounced: Pick-el-low) the obliterator!” and literally booted me through the door.
Jerk....and what did he mean by Picklelow? Meh, stage name...Luckily my hood flew up.
I think Link followed me in, but couldn’t tell because the change of lighting blinded me.
The sun was setting now and all the torches were lit (including the four on top of the ring). Bleh, the smell of filthy humans reeked the air in the whole bloody stadium. The ground was literally shaking from the “boom boom clap” of the blood lust desiring crowd all around the arena but the main entrance.
Five feet ahead of me was the ledge of the exterior part of the arena, where it cut off to a sudden death deep water stop (for only 2 feet were it hit the ring). To the right was the archway to the lake, which allowed water to flow around the square arena. Directly in front of me was a weak (oh yes, safe for heavy gladiators!) bridge that led to the ring platform and behind it was the main door into the coliseum. To the left were most of the crowd and the king, Yun-Seoung in his throne while everyone else sat on cedar bleachers, all high and mighty.
No wonder the crowd is so wild; Japanese, Africans, Indians, and few low class Romans...all races were here. Heh, yeah I couldn’t see all the perfect Romans here acting like this.
I stepped forward and back into reality now. I could see that the king was actually a young man with fiery red hair...what’s the Irish do’n here?
The door finally slammed shut, beckoning me to move on, so I did, forward, slowly.
Life or death, which will I gain in these last moments?
A rugged old man was waiting at the bridge for me; I bowed my head to hide and crossed my arms over my chest. He was a pudgy scarred wrinkled thing with a cataract on his right eye and ear short gray hair. I assumed he was a retired gladiator and a hired announcer by the looks of his purpose being there.
“First time in the coliseum lad?” asked the old man in great assumption, probably from my trembling legs.
I managed to say, “Yeah” in the manliest voice I could ever pull off in my lifetime.
“This way then, good luck...May the gods be with you” replied the old man while pointing the way with his arm stretched out to the gate.
I bowed my head deeper and pounded my heart with my right hand once in agreement.
Thank the gods of Rome for blinding that man partially so my figure wasn’t revealed!
The man walked away, mentioning that Alecktoe was crazy for letting a boy fight, to his companion to the left.
Now would be a good time to mention that, this ring had a cage with speared tops and was 2 feet from the edge of the water.
I walked across the rickety bridge while slowly turning my head to the left to see a familiar face, but I’m not going to mention now. But the giant portcullis gate yanked my attention back due to its gigantic size, decorative demon engraves, and golden iron (main strong metal source in all of Rome) bars.
At the end of the cage was my tall, dark, agile opponent waiting for me.
A shiver ran down my spine when I saw the twisted creature he really was. Have you ever seen a tall, bandaged like a leopard, freakishly strong and flexible man armed with two golden duel hand Kantars?
Alecktoe clearly didn’t know what he was putting me through because this thing looked like a gladiator champion.
Doomed to the death...damn it, yeah thanks master.
He moon walked in place in a strange dance that looked like a stalking wave, with his Kantars armed already and dripping with blood.
Speaking of blood, it was splattered on some parts of the cage and in puddles on the stone slats. Fortunately, most of it was dried up, thank god...gross!
I guess in this system, it’s one verses one, and the champion of each round battles to his death. And by the looks of it, this guy has been battling for three rounds successfully, which I won’t mention why. It’ll scar you more than the blood.
I studied my opponent as he listened for me while we waited for gate to close and the battle to be announced.
I swear he was a living legend leopard because his mouth was covered with a bandage strap, so were his eyes and the rest of his body. From the uncovered parts of his body, I could see he had ghostly pale skin, covered in blood, blemishes, and recent/old scars.
The bandaged man had a full piece skin tight dark purple leather jumpsuit on under his bandages and spiked black joint armour by the looks of it. He also had an outstanding piece of golden abductor armour that proved he was definitely Roman. Occasionally he would hiss under his mouth guard, which was probably the only vocal sound he could make.
What the hell is he?
From all my travels, he is the weirdest thing I have ever seen!
How could a blinded man fight in a coliseum and live?
Everyone else was he eyes; they could see the Roman Viking character that I was.
My heart jumped into a run once I finally realised how much danger I was in.
I comforted myself with my instant kill plot I conspired earlier.
The gate suddenly slammed down locked, shocking me into stance in a flash.
The announcer raised his seemingly godly voice to the crowd.
“In this corner we have the undefeated champion Voldo the creature of Master Smith’s team!!! And uh, in this corner we have Picklelow the obliterator of Master Alecktoe’s team! Make your bets now!” he announced with doubt of me.
Ha! Never judge a book by its cover fool!
We both stared at each other, well at least I did, but he did seem to notice my presence if that counts. This fight was going to be even tougher since he was going to take it all out on me, he probably would of too even if he wasn’t blind.
Waiting tensely we did for the bets to be made and the battle to be declared.
The announcer got the word from the king and yelled, “Let the battle begin!!!!!!!!!!”

My opponent ran at me swifter that I could wake up and started box stabbing me continuously. For your and my sake, I defended instantly while being forced back with winced eyes. He was extremely strong compared to what I expected.
Once his attack ended for a second, I attacked back.
I jump kneed him in the gut (while yelling hiyaaaaaaaah!), somehow making him keel like a jack hammer, even with his armour on.
He hissed in pain as he grasped his stomach while I hopped around on one foot, hugging my knee and yelping “Ow! Ow! Ow!”, in danger of revealing true form. My knee was now internally bleeding and bent a bit from all the power I forced into it.
The crowd burst into laughter at that, but then changed into a confused cheer.
“Why would a gladiator hop around in pain”, they all thought.
Oops! Don’t do that! Focus dumb ass!
I finally noticed now, that he managed to lightly cut my flesh to an oozing bleed on both arms.
Ouch...Oh you’ll die from that!
Now I was enraged for no apparent reason.
While I was distracted, my opponent backed up in his awkward wave motion, and ran at me ...again. I was prepared this time and waited to the last second to dodge.
This was risky, oh and very stupid. Especially with the stinging pain I had already put upon myself.
But I couldn’t back flip my way outta this with the gate to my back.
Great, ye have trapped yerself, nice going.
He suddenly dived at my thighs, followed by an outward swipe and hiss, off course. I jumped off the wall and over him, but managed to wobble on his back and hop off in pain. He screeched from the pressure of my body bending his spine and winced upwards, like someone put a spider down his back.
Hee hee. Yes that’s what I think of when fighting for my life.
As I landed on the bloody ground, a stretching pain stung and throbbed in my thighs. I wailed in pain with tears forming from the jolt of pain. Voldo had cut right through my leggings er pants and deep into my flesh. The three claw marks slowly seeped down my legs, wrecking my leather pants. Like a shark bite, what a creature.
Oh yeah Alecktoe, it’s easy for me to keep quiet!
Voldo was still squirming on the ground, truly proving his creature name. He suffering looked like an act. It caught my attention to a loose, arms-length piece of bandage stuck to my boot.
Sweet! I plucked it off and tied it tight around one of my thighs to stop the blood flow. That was the leg with the most damage by the way.
Without warning, my body sickened me to weakness. I felt overheated, exhausted, had tiny issues with breathing, and felt very sore.
Somehow, the creature Voldo knew how I was feeling. He stopped squirming, lay flat on his face, and maniacally snickered in his hissing voice.
Uh........creepy... wake up!
I knocked my head up (and accidentally my hood too...which felt good) to prevent weakness from overcoming my body and mind.
Plan remember, plan.
Everyone could see me now, but no one mentioned it. I felt safer now with no hood blocking my sight and moves.
Voldo flipped over and raised up in a bridge form all a sudden.
WHAT THE HELL?!?! What kind of attack is that?!?
After my moment of confusion, a devilish smirk drew across my face.
“Gotcha...” I chuckled to myself in arrogance.
I went to jump stab him in the chest and gut but was tricked so easily.
He swung back up and pushed me to the ground with one chop motion. His efforts were useless though...he only managed to skin my right armpit and hit my armoured heart.
I hit the ground hard and just laid there until...Voldo pulled a fast one again. I flung my feet over my head in a roll, to dodge his continuous stabbing. He hissed in disgust after his Kantars hit solid ground, making sparks of irritation within him. The rolled dizzied my head and gave some scratches all over my body.
We both rose instantly into defence, expecting each other to attack. Now I pulled a fast one on him.
I walked up to him to do a hostile move, I like to call, the peck. My blades were raised with one behind my head and the other one above for a double swing.
His poor defence (hands together like a prayer) fell to stance at the wrong time. I put all force into each swing that sliced his shoulders and upper torso.
The adrenalin raced through my veins till it ignited my rage into the sound of, “Sieyaaaah!” that snarled my face up.
Voldo hissed and cringed in pain, but none was to be seen because his bandages and thick leather soaked up all the blood.
I laughed in victory of a successful hit with my blades...finally! Boring you with my kicks eh?
After his crazy squirm recoil, Voldo came back at me full in rage of a powered back, three limb spin hit. Due to my unprepared self, I got kicked in the gut and slashed at the dodge braces.
Fortunately, only my gut and scratched dodge braces were harmed since Voldo didn’t calculated how far he was from me.
I sneered at his miss, to be regretting it.
He attacked in the motion of a low triple spin at my tasset, but as I, the one with eyes, defended myself once again (but getting bruises from the defence).
The sting in my legs started to tremble in spasm, which weakened my whole body and finally cut my legs from use.
No more dodging, just defending now. Voldo had already figured out that my legs were the weakest and was going to hit them down to slay me. I still couldn’t figure out Voldo’s weakest points, so I just went with the five I mapped out.
First I had to soften him up so I could get in close and hit the fatal points with my four javelin head daggers.
My throwing skills with knives of any sort are horrible and unmentionable.

I mimicked his attacks by push slashing him in a way that he could defend the push but not the slice. I nipped the side of his ribs and pectoris major with that attack.
Next I pulled off a low triple spin at his thighs, which is basically me hugging my blades around my body in the form of a hoop.
Voldo hissed like water splattered into fire from the wounds I marked him, that were seeping with blood.
Irritated, to be defeated Voldo, lunged at me with a face jab and somehow knew my height.
I just barley defended, getting part of my bangs chopped off, but was given the opportunity to strike.
One of the small daggers was now lodged so the finger guard was sticking out on his left shoulder blade, snug between his shoulder pad and neck. A strike from a killer bee you could say.
By the looks of it, that dagger made the only severe hit out of all my swings.
Courage and determination leaped through me, keeping my soul high. As you can tell, concentration truly sunk into me now.
A quarter of the crowd gasped when I stabbed him all a sudden in shock or in foul play.
Voldo’s growl turned into a dog-whining hiss that made him grasp his ears as if the pain was driving him mad.
I kept in defence as he drew near, making a mechanism in his Kantars spin the blades like a murderous drill.
Gaaaaaaaaaaaah! Menace with a torturous gut shredding drill!
As you can tell, my eyes widened with fear that I couldn’t defend this.
But....a life threatening idea popped in my head. Maybe if I keep really still and quiet without making a sound, he won’t be able to find me. Hopefully he can’t hear heartbeats; cus mine are wild right now.
I held in my breath, kept my defence stance, and tried to keep as still as possible.
The crowd died down as if trying to help Voldo or figure out what the heck I was doing.
Voldo stood in front of me with his spinning Kantars, sniffing the air. As the Kantars drew closer to my flesh I yelped in fear.
Voldo cocked his head downwards at me, drew back his Kantars for the stab of death...but I raced to his side and stabbed him in the neck with one of the daggers on my bandoleer. He stab was too late, for his sake.
I couldn’t imagine the pain a little snake like me was putting him through. But didn’t care; my life was more important right now.
I laughed maniacally from the pain I was causing him, which scared me to nervous mind.
Voldo’s left arm and neck were disabled to limpness. My leg started to go on me too, sidesteps or even baby steps hurt.
I swear this gladiator battle was the slowest less violent one out of all. The other battles had gladiators losing their heads, lower body, and arms. That’s just wrong.
“All right, that’s it! I’m ending this!” I declared to the crowd, bursting them with excitement.
Voldo’s face scowled up into a scary smile as he hissed in laughter.
Voldo decided to spin around like a top with his good claw out, determined to hit me. I just ducked under his spin, hoping not to trip him, and slashed his abductor armour from behind with the last small dagger.
He hissed when he heard it clatter to the ground and waved his Kantar downward. I jumped up, stepped back and got him in the other shoulder.
Poor Voldo...all well, his fault.
As unexpected, several pointed kicks hit my shins, sending me knees first to the ground.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ouch!!!!” leaped from my throat after every kick and when my knees were hit (especially the already injured knee). The rest came down after my knees stretched the scars.
The pain beat slowly through my legs, as if they weren’t already numb! Voldo did the worst thing he could do (besides the leg slice) and stood on one of my legs. I winced, binding my teeth together before he jumped down.
A death cry echoed the whole coliseum and silenced the crowd. Voldo had broken my leg into many shards. I couldn’t breathe for a moment but managed to regain myself.
He stepped off after his jump and waited to see if I could stand up, and if not, finish the job. By the sounds of it, the crowd and king had decided death and were cheering it, beckoning Voldo.
I swallowed my craving for death and sat my shaking upper self in preparation of standing.
I’m not gonna give up! I still have one more dagger to use! I can’t fail my master!
Trembling I was, as I stood myself up with the help of my blades and with the broken leg dangling.
The crowd burst into happiness from the everlasting challenge.
I powered my blades up as I did in the preparation room but with all force and anger this time.
Voldo stepped forward, and swung his arms behind his head, as smashing a hammer against my skull.
I didn’t let that happen and slashed at his lower rib cage and abductors continuously until I couldn’t handle it (the blood splattered across my face too) anymore. Voldo made sounds a lizard would make until his voice dropped to silence.
I fell to my knee as Voldo fell flat on the ground with a thud. The crowd silenced themselves again as I pulled out my last three-fingers-wide dagger.
This is it, we’re both fading.
I looked over at the king to get his approval to kill or not, as he held his thumb at neutral, waiting for the crowd’s reply. They demanded, “Kill! Kill! Kill!” which sent Yun-Seoung’s thumb down, for death.
Stab the heart, stab the heart...no!
I disobeyed his order in sadness and dropped the dagger. The crowd’s roar dimmed down as I pulled out my daggers (wanting them back), sheathed them and dropped my weapons.
Voldo’s lungs ceased to rise, and I swear if I could see his eyes, the light would be gone from them.
“It’s over...I did it! Wait........................................Oh no! I killed him!” I sobbed, drowning in exception and guilt.
The crowd screamed, the gate opened, two members of his team raced in with a stretcher, and the announcer came in.
I burst into tears of sadness and sickness as they put him on the stretcher and as the announcer approached me.
But, as they carried him away, I could have sworn I heard a little coking snicker. That very thought dammed my tears and got me thinking.
The old man lifted me up from my armpits like a child and told me, “All right lad, er lass. Come on, let’s go. It’s all over now”. Alecktoe dashed in, threw my arm over his should for support and walked me out. We followed the announcer to an open area near the preparation doors so everyone could see us.
“Here is your winner! Picklelow the obliterator!!!!” bellowed the old man while raising my other hand.
Yes Alecktoe did grab my weapons for your information.
Out of nowhere, the scribe man yelled, “Sire, this woman fought in your coliseum illegally!”, drawing all eyes to the king and his to a squint at me.
The darkness of the early night changed to complete darkness, all feelings were lost, and the last thing I heard was, “Oh shit! We’re losing ‘er!” from my master.
Lights out.

Pain hit me like a thousand needles.
What Alecktoe said haunted me. I imagined without desire, the scribe man’s dislocated head frozen in fear with a sword lodged through his skull and out the other end. I screamed myself awake to appear in the preparation room again.
Someone had striped my bandana, shoulder pads, dodge braces, bandoleer, cape, tasset, leggings, and boot off and onto the ground. Link was at my feet, purring in happiness. I laid on the bench in confusion. A stranger kneeled and stood at my side.
Holly handed me a wet cloth for my forehead. She was a friend I met on my journeys who happened to be a dancer. Holly smiled at me with her luminous blue eyes and youthful face.
She was a girl my age and height with short black hair, pale skin, nimble body, and as you guessed it, clothed in mainly black (and blue leggings to match her grand choker). She wore decorative boots and gloves, a long skirt and tunic. Holly was an adopted daughter of an Indian; which explains her talent for belly-dancing and attacking with two giant metal tambourines.
She and the other stranger had attended my wounds, even my broken leg! They were cleaned, sew (if necessary), stuffed with healing powders, and patched up.
“Thank you so much” I choked as Holly handed me some water, in appreciation of saving my life. All the memories of battle left me.
“You did great out there! I never knew you were that capable Mick.” commented Holly in encouragement.

My leg was put back into place, braced and bandaged. “Yeah, thanks... that capable” I sarcastically replied, doubting myself.
“Who fixed me leg?” I asked, still not noticing the stranger standing next to Holly.
“I did” answered the stranger .who actually was a gladiator on my team, that looked like a younger mini version of Alecktoe.
“Voldo really smashed it up, luckily while I was working on it, you were knocked out, or else you would of been through and ordeal of pain. Holly here helped me heal you.” replied the saint gladiator as I like to call him.
“Thanks a lot, I really appreciate it. I’ll repay you both in any means necessary.” I answered with a bow.
“Yer’welcome. My pleasure lass. You did superior out there. Oh...and forget about the payment...like I said my pleasure.” He replied, double-taked followed by a smirk and walked away.
Ho snap! Who was that? Meh, well at least respect has popped in.
“Who was that?” I dragged and whispered to Holly in confusion and curiosity.
“Oh that’s your master’s returned son.”
“WHAT?”
“He’s our age and in a coliseum too. I got a chance to talk to him while you were knocked out” informed Holly.
“How can that be!?!? He has no children but orphans.”
“He was a mistake, oops that was harsh. Alecktoe gave him to a couple of saints when he was young and yanked him back a year ago. But that’s another story.” She explained while feeding me.