Boredom. I never thought that boredom was what I would feel at the end of my life. Waiting in the stone room, in my fighting robe over my shoulder and golden plate legs hooked around my feet. The helmet was pressuring my head. I am a gladiator, born a slave. Die a savage fighting for freedom.
My name is Orion, named after the constellation. My mother always told me that I was destined for great things, my father had thought otherwise.
"He is only a boy, since if we lose to the Romans then by Hades doom we will become slaves." He had said one night during the war. The stars were clouded with smoke from an oncoming warship. I prayed to Zeus and his mighty gods for strength.
My sister Akila, had been adopted. We had found her on one of the streets of a conquered city. She always said that fate may bring doom but after doom there is relief and after relief there was happiness. She died from what we call goat's death. A rare condition that filled the lungs with water. Which when you tried to talk it would make a gurgle that was kind of like a goats baa. I had told her to stay out of the rain, but she went out to have fun with her friends.
I looked at Akila's portrait. I smiled. After doom is relief, after relief comes happiness.
The next day there was siege. The Romans had taken camp on the conquered harbor. The Romans were good friends with Greeks, or so I thought. They usually came on trade frigates, but today the warship came. The dreaded Roman warship. I had fought hard that day, for a ten year old. My family was taken during the fighting and when I came home from market the house was empty, things were smashed around, my sister's portrait was unharmed other than the small blotches of blood. I heard a crash and roman soldiers rushed down the street. They approached every house, either demanding tribute from survivors or checking that there is no one that has not been killed or taken slave, they finally approached my house
"Carpo puer!" The Roman in the front seemed to say, I had learned much Latin, but in the bloodlust of my mind I had no desire to translate, only to kill the takers of my family. They came in with spears, which my family's axe could handle, no problem. Somehow though, they took me prisoner. I struggled, adrenaline pumping. The roman put a rag on my mouth that smelled funny I suddenly fell to sleep.