Prologue:
She runs panting and terrified, her hair once neat and precise was now a curly mass of black hair flailing as she runs. Her dark mocha skin is stained with blood and an equally bloodstained gladiator sword was clutched in her hand.
She hated violence but she hates her masters even more. They had set the slaves and the gladiators loose like rats in the House of Dania. They were to fight their way out and somehow escape the guards. Most slaves (which were all women) had paired up with a gladiator so they could protect them, but not her. She didn't need some brute to protect her; her father had taught her to fight before she was a slave.
She was beginning to lose hope, she had run for hours all night and the sun was coming up. Just as she was thinking of ending her life so she wouldn't be sold again, she saw the front door. Nearly crying with relief she bursts out the door. The sun was peaking over the horizon casting warm rays on her skin. The sun had new meaning now it was an icon of freedom.
Not missing a beat she ran all the way across the bare sandy courtyard and to the gate. It was locked.
Frantic for freedom she thought quickly. An idea popped into her head, she parted her feet and raised the sword above her head summoning all the strength she had, and she swung down and broke the lock surprisingly easily. Pushing the gates open she ran.
She ran to the sun.
To hope.
To freedom.