Crimson and Gold

Since early morning the next day, it was clear to Saria that this was going to be yet another eventful day.

She was coming back from her daily practice with Olios when her path was blocked by the last person she wished to see so early.

Or ever.

“Doran,” she forced through her teeth.

Satisfaction flashed in his yellow eyes. “You remember my name? I’m honored,” he said, taking a step closer.

His lecherous gaze lingered on Saria, making her stomach churn with disgust.

“I have things to do. Move aside.” She tried walking away, but he stepped in front of her.

“Loukios sent me. You have a fight today.”

“Alright. If that’s all, I’ll go now.”

Doran got in her way once again. “Leaving already?”

Saria gritted her teeth and forced herself to look at the man. “I’m busy,” she said, challenging his gaze with her own.

Curving his lips in a down-turned ‘u’, Doran brushed off a stray strand of hair from her face. “I thought we had something,” he said, tucking the hair behind her ear.

“You’re delusional,” Saria groaned, swatting his hand. “Let me go, I don’t have time for this.”

Saria pushed him aside, but the moment she took another step, his hand wrapped around her neck. In the next moment, her back crashed painfully into the marble decorating the hallway walls.

His fingers dug painfully into her throat, nearly crushing it.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!? Let me go!” Saria growled, putting all of her strength into prying his hand open, but no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn’t even budge.

Both his strength and his speed were on another level. Even with the enhancements that her blood abilities were giving her, in terms of raw power, it was obvious that Saria was no match for him.

She wasn’t used to this kind of helplessness. It made her uneasy, almost afraid.

Doran grinned with satisfaction.

Locking her in his iron grip, he moved closer to Saria, using his own body to pin her to the wall.

“There it is,” he said, inching closer. “I was worried you lost your spirit.”

His breath reeked of alcohol, his words slurred, and for a moment, they sounded more like a growl of a wild animal than a human speech.

“God, you are repulsive.” Saria winced, feeling the nausea building up in her stomach.

Doran wasn’t disheartened even a bit. In fact, the more threats and curses she spat at him, the more he seemed to enjoy.

“You are exactly my type, darling,” he said, leaning closer. “So feisty at first, but once I’m done with you, you’ll act like a proper obedient bitch.”

His free hand painfully squeezed her thigh, then went up, going under her tunic. “Women like you always act disinterested, but in reality, what you’re missing is the right man to put a leash on you and hold it tightly.”

Something in Saria broke. Her boiling blood raged in her veins, seeping deep into her muscles.

Fueled by rage and disgust, she pushed him away with all of her strength.

Doran landed on the opposite side of the hallway, cracking the pillar he crashed into.

“Go anywhere near me again and I will skin you alive, you sick freak,” Saria growled, her voice coarse from the bruised throat.

Not giving him a chance to continue his game, she turned around and left with haste.

Doran pushed himself back to his feet and looked at the broken column. A sly smile curved his lips as his fingers traced the seam of the crack. “This is going to be fun,” he muttered to himself with satisfaction.

In response to his growing excitement, his eyes flashed with ominous light.

The fight was scheduled for the afternoon.

Saria and Loukios didn’t share a carriage, as it would happen with Lysandra. Instead, she was sent to the Arena on a shabby wagon beforehand.

While much less comfortable than a carriage, Saria was in fact glad that she didn’t have to share the ride with the Crowned Prince, especially after what happened with Doran in the morning.

Being slightly mistreated by someone like Loukios was also less unnerving. It was more predictable, more natural.

Saria knew all too well that kindness offered by a viper meant that it was ready to attack.

“Your opponent today is Alexios of Tervis. Twenty-two years old. The oldest among his seven siblings. His father was a mercenary but lost his leg during the Battle of Tasr. His mother was an acolyte in the Temple of Horatius. They live from farming now.”

Saria listened to Loukios in silence, busy tying the belts of her manica.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, once the armor was tightly fixed to her arm.

“I thought you would like to know who you are going up against.” Loukios leaned against the wall with an innocent expression on his face.

“If that’s the case, it would be more useful to know what he can do.”

“He’s very fast.”

For a second, Saria didn’t know what to say. “Really? You give me his full life story, but the only thing you have to say about his abilities is that he’s ‘very fast’?”

Loukios shrugged. “How am I supposed to know what is going to be useful to you? I’m not the one fighting.”

“Well, thank you for this ‘invaluable’ information. Your Highness is truly an incredible dheris.” Saria said. The sarcasm in her voice couldn’t be any more obvious.

Incredibly useless, that is, she added in her heart

“I’m glad you think so. It took quite a bit of effort to learn all of this in such a short time.” Loukios headed to the exit. “Oh, and there’s one more thing you should know,” he said, turning back to her in the last moment.

“Alexios has a deal with the merchant who bought him. He will be given his freedom back alongside a large sum of money if he wins thirty fights.”

“Alright?” Saria didn’t quite understand what that information was supposed to bring to the table.

A malicious shadow crossed Loukios’ face. “He already won twenty-nine of them.”

Waiting at the gate for the fight to start, Saria couldn’t stop thinking about what Loukios said.

At first, she thought the whole backstory he told her was just to mess with her. To act as if he were doing his job while at the same time providing nothing of value.

But the look on his face just before they parted raised all set of red flags.

It was Loukios after all.

There had to be more to this than just causing her a minor inconvenience.

Saria didn’t have much time to think about it as the warhorns blared, announcing the beginning of the fight.

It didn’t take long for her to understand why the only piece of information she got about her opponent was that he was fast.

Alexios’ speed was indeed his most defining quality.

He was agile and nimble way beyond average, but he was still a boy who grew up on a farm. His lack of professional training was obvious. His skills, while impressive for an amateur, lacked the polish that would elevate him to a high-tier fighter.

He was fast, but not inhumanly fast, and speed alone wasn’t enough to pose any threat to someone like her.

Still, Alexios impressed her enough to even make her consider throwing the fight, just so he could claim his thirtieth victory.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, things finally clicked into place.

Loukios was trying to set her up.

He wanted her to throw the fight. He probably had a punishment in mind for the occasion, too.

She nearly walked right into his trap.

“Sorry, kid. You’ll have to fight a little bit longer,” Saria muttered and prepared herself to finish the match.

“What did you say?” Alexios asked, slightly confused, but didn’t stop his charge.

This split second of distraction was all that Saria needed.

She dodged his attack, flipped the dagger in her hand, and used the hilt to deliver a powerful blow to his stomach.

Alexios staggered helplessly, feeling like he was about to suffocate, but Saria wasn’t done with him just yet.

She grabbed his arm, knocked the sword out of his hand, and, using her own body weight, flipped him over her shoulder.

His back slammed into the ground, while Saria’s knee landed on his chest, pinning him to the ground.

The only thing left for Alexios was to desperately wave his hand, signaling his surrender.

The crowd roared, drowning the Arena in excited noise. Some people even started chanting Saria’s name.

Then, everything went completely silent.

The only sound she could hear was Loukios’ clapping.

“Wonderful fight. Well done,” he said, walking over to the balcony in his loge. He looked suspiciously pleased.

Not what Saria expected after ruining his plan.

The uncertainty didn’t last long, however.

“Now kill him.” Loukios’ ice-cold order pierced the air.

“What are you talking about?” Saria released Alexios and walked over to the loge. “These fights are not to the death.”

“They don’t need to end in death, but it doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” Loukios said, flashing her a cunning smile.

Saria clenched her fists. “He already lost. Sound the horn.”

“Are you disobeying your master?”

“I am following Arena rules.”

A flicker of a smile crossed his face.

Loukios raised his hand, and every gate leading to the arena flung open, letting in a big unit of guards.

They circled Saria and Alexios and readied their weapons.

Loukios leaned over the railing, his eyes radiating with malice. “I make the rules,” he said, making a short pause after each word. “Only one of you will leave the arena alive,” his voice thundered over the Arena as he addressed Alexios and the audience. “Nobody will leave until someone dies.”

Saria sensed movement behind her and instantly ducked.

Alexios readjusted his position and charged at her once again.

“He is pitting us against each other!” Saria shouted. “You’re giving him exactly what he wants!”

“Maybe I am, but I can’t risk it. I have a family to look after.” Alexios didn’t think to slow down. His blows became even more vicious and reckless.

“The family needs you alive.” Saria pleaded, while parrying his attack.

“Then, I just need to make sure I’m not the one who dies.”

Saria tried reasoning with him a few more times, but Alexios didn’t listen. He was determined to kill her, no matter what.

“There are better things to die for, you stupid brat,” Saria growled eventually.

She had had enough.

The fight, Doran, Loukios, she was fed up with all of this.

The frustration finally reached a point where she could no longer ignore it.

In one swift move, she went under Alexios’ swinging blade and, with bare hands, delivered a blow to his face, knocking him out in an instant.

Even when he fell unconscious to the ground, nobody in the Arena dared to cheer.

He was still alive after all, and it was going against the wishes of the Crowned Prince. Nobody was willing to fall into his disfavor.

“Alexios of Tervis had fallen. He can no longer fight,” Saria roared, looking around the audience. After looping around the Arena, she glared directly at Loukios.

“If you want him dead so badly, then come down here and kill him yourself,” she said and threw the daggers away as a sign she wasn’t going to fight anymore.

A crooked smile showed up on Loukios’ face. His eyes nearly burned a hole in Saria, but in the end, he raised his hand, and the warhorn blared at last.