A fountain of blood blood erupted from the deep cut he made in the giants neck; the red that was this man?s, no, beast?s life left him and after a few tetering steps back he collapsed. The crowd went wild. It was over, Lahar had won the fight that had been stacked against him. Balus? beast was dead, no doubt he would be cursing this day. However as the crowd rejoiced around him, instead of bathing in the ecstasy of his success, he felt hollow, like he had lost something.
He stepped forward to reclaim his blades, but the rush was over, the pain had finally caught up with him. He collapsed on the ground opposite the giant he had slain.
Lahar woke up in the medicus, the healer towering over him applying bandages to his torso and salves to his neck. He tried to stand, but the must he could muster was to lift his head, even that was agony.
?Come now lad, it?s best for you to lie down for now,? The healer said, ?You?ve taken quite the beating, but that?s to be expected, you?ve faced ?Death? and lived. Your ribs are broken or bruised, only way to tell is how long they take heal. Your throat for that matter isn?t much better, you?ll have some trouble breathing due to the swelling that is, but that should go down in a few days, it?ll leave a nasty bruise for a while as well, but you?ll live. For now however, you should rest.?
Lahar tried to object, but before he could the healer gave him something that made him fall asleep.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
He dreamt he was back in the arena, the giant dead, the crowd cheering, but instead of feeling hollow he was cheering along with them. Enjoying the kill, enjoying the power he had over the last moments of the ogre?s life. Elated with his success, he stood there, both swords in hand stretching up to the heavens and feeling every bit like the champion he was.
?No, this isn?t me? He thought
A figure appeared opposite him, a mirror image of himself. ?Yes it is,? It leered.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
He woke up with a start inside his cell in the ludas. He would not let himself become that, it was everything he had been taught against, what the wise words frowned upon, everything that the war walkers fought against. He needed some air and some food to calm himself.
In the courtyard Marrick was going through the same song and dance that he done the day they had arrived in the Ludas, first the tallying, then the mocking, then the laughter, word for word it was the same speech he had given them, changing the names, the japes and the sum of money, but otherwise identical. It was the routine only a showman like him could perform, only this one could punish you for not joining in the festivities. He reluctantly joined in the show, laughing when the queues were given, it made him feel sick.
There was another War Walker among the group of soon to be gladiators. He kept an eye on him, now he wouldn't be quite so alone, someone to speak vaanic too other than Kedrin. Lahar wondered what kind of weapon this one used and whether Balus had snapped up the new black blade as he had with Typhon's and his blades. Something to ask next time he saw Kedrin.
"I would meet the challenge...master." He overheard the new war walker, Xarev say, "But something yet bothers me. The new arrivals, myself included, are weary from travel. A man of your elevated position must be smart enough to see this. So I can't help but think you are expecting one of us to fight and lose, to be made an example of. I beg a thousand apologies if I am mistaken master."
"Don't bother,"He said to him in vaanic, "Honeyed words will earn you nothing here, no matter how sweet they are; you fight or you die, you make that choice now" Vorgis stepped forwards to fight him, "You will lose this fight, but give him everything you have."