Hello everyone, Chemistry God here! This is going to be a long story. It is planned to be around 100,000+ words. It will be divided into three parts of around 40,000 words. There will be a lot of latin used in this story. Translations will be provided at the end of every chapter. Enjoy! Remember to review, follow, and favorite :) Thank you
For the cover image of this story, credits go to my fellow German: Marin-Everydaybox. Follow her on tumblr under that URL. She has ownership of the image and she is awesome, go check her out!
Ancient Rome AU: Korra has been a slave for as long as she can remember. She serves the Imperial Family until a choice is given to her-Become a gladiator and live and die by the sword or to continue her life as a slave without the possibility of freedom. With enemies around every corner, surviving three years in the Arena will not be easy. For every enemy she makes, Korra gains a friend. When secrets are revealed from multiple people, Korra gains the trust of many. Will Korra be able to save herself and those she loves? Or will she perish trying?
Veni, Vidi, Vici
Part I: Vir Immortalis
Chapter I:
The warm, sticky, feeling on her hands is foreign to Korra. The heat from the man's lifeblood is a new sensation; one that she has never felt before. Korra makes herself to look down at her bloodied hands. The blood is thicker around the tips of her deeply tanned fingers. The thick substance drips off of her knuckles. She can feel it. She can feel the man's blood.
As her gaze travels from her fingers to her upturned palms, the concentration of the man's cruor fades. There are haphazard splatters of blood across her wrists, and even up to her small bicep. Korra twists her head from side to side. No blood on her shoulders. No blood on her pure, white stola. Korra is thankful that the intruder's blood did not tarnish her tunic. The Emperor's wife would surely lose her temper if Korra sullied yet another tunic.
Korra closes her eyes tightly when she realizes exactly what she did. The realization crushes her, as if she is holding up the sky on her shoulders. She opens her eyes again and forces herself to look past her hands. An ownerless gladius lays on the ground, where Korra dropped it. The short sword is covered in blood, much like Korra's dirtied fists. The blood on the blade belongs to its owner. Korra moves her gaze slowly to the man's body.
He was young. Korra could tell. He lays face-up, motionless and unmoving. His eyes seem to burn into Korra's. She shudders as she looks at the gaping hole in the man's abdomen. Some of his viscera linger outside of his body. Red. Red is everywhere. All thanks to her own doing.
The young man's face is strangely handsome. A sharp jaw accentuated with large, brown, eyes adorn his face. He is tan, but not like Korra. The man is tan from living in sunny Rome, not from his bloodline. Korra can tell that much, even in the dim lighting of the torches.
Did he have a wife? A family? Was he poor? A peasant? A noble? A merchant? Did he like fishing? Did he believe in Spirits? Was he a bender? And most importantly...why did he come here, in the middle of the night, sword in his hand?
Korra's mind thunders with countless questions. Guilt rakes through her heart like a hungry beast. I did the right thing. He was here to kill the Emperor. Why would he be here otherwise? Korra forces back the rising bile in her throat with a gulp. Her stomach quivers in protest but Korra ignores it. This is not a time for weakness. This is a time of strength, of determination.
Korra opens her mouth and forms a single word.
"Help!" She screams. Her throat constricts in rebellion. Her mouth is dry like sand from the Saharan desert.
"Help, -elp, -elp, -lp," Her voice echoes through the marbled halls of the Emperor's palace, his Collis Palatium.
A the metallic rustle of armor and the shuffle of feet is Korra's answer. Two guards, clad in armor, jog towards her. One guard has his sword drawn, the other does not. The unarmed guard takes the lead of the jog.
"What is it?" The guard asks before he looks down. His eyes widen at the sight of the dead man. His brow shoots up past his helmet and he straightens his back. The other guard sheaths his own short sword and kneels next to the dead man.
The first guard looks in bewilderment at Korra for an explanation. Korra opens her mouth to speak, but finds she cannot use her voice. Her voice cracks in a half-groan, half-cry.
"Intruder," Korra manages to utter with lackluster strength.
Although she cannot say it, Korra remembers vividly exactly what happened.
She was walking through the halls of the palace, performing her normal rounds. Her duty is to serve the Emperor's children, to care for them. She is their cosmetae, their personal servant that tends to their needs.
She is in charge of making sure the Emperor's offspring remain satisfied. It has been her job since she turned thirteen. Before that, for a brief period of time, Korra cleaned the palace. Before that, well, Korra cannot quite remember. Somewhere in between the time she was born and when she cleaned, she was taken to serve. Taken from where, Korra does not know. Judging by her dark skin and sky blue eyes, she is from the barbaric and mysterious tribes of the north.
Korra has been a slave for as long as she can remember. Korra knows she is a lucky slave, but she also knows that she is only that-a slave born to serve the Imperial family.
Korra had just finished tending to Opal, the only biological daughter of the Emperor. Opal is the kindest of the children to Korra, always speaking to her with soft, kind words. She never loses her temper with Korra, even when she messes up. She is the opposite of her short-tempered brother, Huan. Huan is always yelling at her when she does not fold his clothes a certain way, or when Korra cannot interpret his strange artwork.
Opal is Korra's favorite of the Emperor's offspring. Well, almost favorite. Kuvira is Korra's uncontested favorite. But, Kuvira is not the biological offspring of the Emperor and his wife. She is adopted, which is not all that uncommon in Rome. It is more common, however, for a young baby boy to be adopted.
After tending to Opal, Korra began walking to Kuvira's room. It is her favorite time of the night. Being able to spend precious time with Kuvira means the world to Korra.
But, her favorite time of the day was interrupted by footsteps that echoed when they should not have. Korra stopped in her tracks and tilted her head to the side, straining to hear where the footsteps were coming from. Korra's heart skipped a beat when she realized the footsteps were coming down the hallway where she was treading in.
Korra backed to the side of the wall. The cold marble leached the heat out of her warm body. Korra shuddered from the shivers down her spine. She took a sharp breath in and held it. The flame from the torches flickered across her face, highlighting her lightning blue eyes. A man dressed in all black. He passed Korra without noticing her. Korra felt something stir deep within her.
Whoever this man was, he was here to hurt her family. She knew that she cannot allow that to happen. Releasing the breath she had locked away, Korra stepped forward, a few feet behind the man.
"What do you think you are doing?" Korra said with more conviction than she actually felt.
The man whipped around, cloak whistling with a slight breeze. The man's eyes widen with something Korra cannot identify.
"You made a grave mistake, showing your face," The man said and he lunged forward.
Korra listened to her instincts and she sidestepped the attack.
Korra winded her arm back, coiling it like a snake ready to strike. With all of her might, she released the punch towards the man. Something deep within her being was unlocked. It was like releasing a breath that had been held for a long time. It was pure relief. It was pure power. A small ball of flame escaped Korra's fist and struck the man lightly.
The man stumbled backwards out of shock and fell to the ground. Korra stared at her clenched fist and looked back at the man on the ground that was trying to scramble away.
I can bend fire...and water. This should not be possible. Korra thought.
It made sense that Korra could bend water, being from the Northern tribes. But fire? That was a whole other beast Korra was not ready to deal with. The Romans also would not accept her. She would be condemned, just as the other man had. The man who could bend all four elements; a man named Aang.
Korra punched the air again, producing another lick of flame. The fire hit the man's hand and his sword scattered across the ground. Korra ran to the sword as the man scrambled upwards, chasing after her. Korra picked up the sword, turned around, and thrusted the sword outwards. The man ran right into the gladius. The sword entered through the man's abdomen to his back. Her hands were pressed up against the man's stomach, blood seeping down to her fingers. Korra pulled out the sword, taking out the man's intestines with it. She dropped the blade to the ground in shock and stared at the fallen man.
"Alert the Emperor, his wife, and his children immediately. Also tell the Lord and his daugher what happened, seeing as they live here too. Now! Go!" The second guard commands his comrade.
The first guard nods and takes off in a hurried run in the opposite direction.
"What happened?" The guard asks.
Korra explains to him the gist of what happened. She does not mention the parts where she bended fire, or that she was going to Kuvira's room to lay with her.
The guard nods and examines the body.
"Are you a bender?" The man asks abruptly.
Korra's pulse races. He knows. "Y-yes. I am a waterbender," Korra stutters.
"Ah. So he was a firebender, then?" The guard presses.
"Yes," Korra lies through her teeth. "He was very uncoordinated, though. He probably was never trained. None of his attacks landed. Some backfired on himself"
The guard nods in acknowledgement and stands from his kneeling position. He places a large hand on Korra's shoulder. Korra tenses up out of habit.
"You did the right thing," The guard says. "You defended the Father of Rome and his family"
Korra nods absent mindedly. A group of people approaches the scene. The Emperor and his family walk over to Korra hurriedly. Hiroshi and his daughter Asami linger behind them.
They form what is like a circle around the guard and Korra. The Emperor looks shocked, his eyes wide with fear. His oldest son, Bataar II, and heir to the Roman throne stands with his arms crossed. He glares at the dead man's body.. Huan looks disinterested as always. Opal covers her mouth at the sight of the dead man. Her shock is replaced with the same anger Bataar II wears. The twins, Wing and Wei look amused. Kuvira's gaze is cold and calculated, like how it always is. Except when I am with her, Korra thinks dreamily.
Lord Hiroshi, with his fat belly and small stature, looks like a surprised rat. Occurrences like this must remind him of his assassinated wife, Yasuko. Asami, much to Korra's surprise, looks as concerned as the Emperor's children. She wears a pink, silk nightgown that is very much see-through. Korra averts her gaze and instead looks at Kuvira. Kuvira glances around to ensure nobody is looking at her. Then, she offers a warm smile to Korra. Korra smiles back as discreetly as she can. Her stomach clenches and her heart skips a beat. At least Kuvira is here. Kuvira is dressed in a palla. The green silk matches and accentuates her mossy-green eyes.
"What happened here?" The Emperor's wife, Suyin, demands. She wears a mask of anger but behind that mask is fear. Unlike her husband Bataar, she is trying her best to conceal her fear.
The guard answers Suyin and repeats word-for-word what Korra told him.
Before, there was a little noise from the group's breathing. Now, there is no noise at all. It is as if they are all holding their breath. They all look at Korra with mixed reactions. Kuvira looks at Korra with approval.
"You killed the assassin?!" Bataar I exclaims.
Korra nods. She taps her fingers together anxiously, the dried blood making a slight crunching sound. Suyin glances down to Korra's hands.
"Kuvira, go fetch Korra a wet cloth," Suyin commands.
Kuvira lifts her chin and turns to leave.
"I...I cannot believe it," Bataar says and scratches the back of his head. "You have no formal training in combat," He continues. "Just...how did you manage to kill a trained assassin?"
"I listened to my instincts," Korra explains.
Kuvira returns, cloth in hand. She grabs Korra's hands delicately and rubs the cloth over hands. Korra shudders underneath the cool touch of the cloth. The cloth wipes away the blood, and the sins, of Korra's actions. Korra watches in awe as the blood begins to disappear, and is relieved it is gone. Kuvira rubs her thumb against Korra's hand reassuringly.
"That is a mark of a warrior...A gladiator, is it not?" Kuvira asks.
"It would be great for Korra to-" Asami begins to say but is cut off by Kuvira's glare. Asami shuts her mouth and returns a glare to Kuvira.
"She would be excellent in the arena," Lord Hiroshi agrees.
Bataar I strokes his beard slowly, dragging his fingertips across his facial hair. His eyes are to the ground.
"She would be…" He trails off.
"We could sponsor her," Hiroshi presses.
Bataar looks up from the ground and makes eye contact with Korra. Korra swallows anxiously. She really does want to be a gladiator. Fighting in the arena meant the possibility of earning freedom. Survive three years in the arena, you walk home a free human; a full citizen of Rome. Libertatem. It is something Korra has craved ever since she realized just how independent she wants to be. Ever since she became a teenager, she has wanted freedom more than anything. And here she is, seventeen-years-old, praying for a chance at her precious freedom.. She could buy her own house. She could marry. But blocking that freedom is the arena. Not many survive three years. It would be a huge risk.
"I would not be against it. After all, Korra deserves a reward for her services. A chance at freedom would pay my debt," Bataar says.
"What do you say, Korra?" Hiroshi says.
Korra breaks free from Bataar's gaze and instead looks at Hiroshi.
"I want to fight," Korra says with determination.
"Well, then. I will arrange your enrollment in a school by tomorrow," Hiroshi says, rubbing his round belly proudly.
Korra grins with happiness. "Thank you so much!" Her pulse races with the thought of actually fighting in the arena. Who, or what, would she fight? Would she battle beasts or men? Endless possibilities surround entering the arena.
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After everyone returns to their chambers, Korra continues her interrupted journey to Kuvira's room. Korra walks briskly through the halls of the palace and turns into the hallway that leads to Kuvira's chambers. She pauses at the entrance and clears her throat.
"Enter," Kuvira says.
Korra walks into Kuvira's room. Her room reeks of roses, as it always does. Korra takes a deep breath in to accustom herself to the air of the room. Kuvira sits on the edge of her large bed, her back facing Korra.
"Help me take my robe off," Kuvira says gently.
Korra moves to help Kuvira and she gently pulls down Kuvira's palla. Her green robe falls to the ground, revealing Kuvira's smooth back. She turns around to face Korra. Korra struggles to keep her eyes above Kuvira's shoulders.
"Korra?" Kuvira asks.
"Hmm?"
"Fetch my sleeping robe, please," Kuvira asks, but is actually a command.
That is the way it is with Kuvira. She never makes requests or suggestions. She always commands with a purpose. She purposely made herself appear weak and fragile in front of her family. But in front of Korra, she reveals her true self, and it never ceases to amaze Korra. Kuvira is strong and ambitious. She has an insatiable thirst for power. Often she jokes about overthrowing the current government and replacing it with her own. A government in which there are no slaves, no restrictions based on gender. A government in which Kuvira would place herself on top of as the Great Uniter. She would unite the whole continent of Europe under her cause. She would be the Julius Caesar of the world. She would be Earth's Magnus Dux.
Of course, Kuvira knew that those thoughts are nothing more than a child's dream. She only shares these aspirations with Korra. In exchange for Kuvira's secrets, Korra shares her own.
Korra nods and moves to fetch Kuvira's robe. She returns with a light cloak in hand. Kuvira always sleeps in light clothing. Kuvira stands, wearing only her mamillare and subligacula. She stands from the corner of her bed. Her long black hair is braided and is draped over her left shoulder. The moonlight filters through the shades of the balcony.
Kuvira is beautiful in a dangerous way. Her sharp jaw, slanted eyebrows, and narrow eyes all scream power yet radiate an intoxicating beauty, a kind of beauty that Korra could not hope to resist.
"You look beautiful," Korra says, tucking a strand of long brown hair behind her ear.
Kuvira smiles and slips into the night gown. She sits back down on the bed and motions for Korra to do the same. With a swallow, Korra sits down next to Kuvira.
"How do you feel about becoming a gladiator?" Kuvira asks.
"I worry," Korra offers.
Kuvira nods. "It would be your chance at power, fame, fortune. Anything you wanted," Kuvira says.
"I know. I cannot understand why he would not just let me go. Set me free. I earned it. You know that. I have served this family for as long as I can remember. I deserve it," Korra says as she lets out a sigh.
"You seem very bitter over my adoptive father's decision," Kuvira says slowly and she slides closer to Korra on the bed.
"I am...to a point. I just wish I could...You have heard this angry speech before. I will spare your ears," Korra mutters.
"I see. Perhaps it is best this way. The Spirits must have willed it to happen," Kuvira says.
Korra shrugs. "The Spirits never favored me before anyways," Korra says bitterly.
"I do, though," Kuvira says with a sly smirk.
Korra laughs. "Actions speak louder than words, Kuvira," She challenges.
Kuvira's smile widens. It is hungry, as it always is. She leans over to Korra, tilting her face slightly to the side. She pauses centimeters away from Korra's face. Korra pushes her mouth forward to meet Kuvira's lips.
Kuvira's lips are soft, but her kiss is eager and voracious. Korra inhales deeply the scent of roses. She moves her mouth against Kuvira's, matching Kuvira's intense pace with her own. Korra raises her hands to cup Kuvira's face and gently pushes her down the bed.
Kuvira wraps her legs around Korra's hips. Korra moves her hands from Kuvira's chiseled jaw to her arms. She grips Kuvira's wrists and pulls them over her head, pinning them down on the bed. She kisses Kuvira's jaw and grazes her teeth against the sharp line. Kuvira shudders underneath her, which only encourages Korra more.
Kissing Kuvira is like sailing through a hurricane with nothing but a small wooden raft. It is powerful and overwhelming. It is dangerous yet rewarding. To survive means victory.
Korra lowers her head to meet the crook of Kuvira's neck. She kisses the warm skin gently, reveling in the salty yet sweet taste of Kuvira's neck. Kuvira releases a breathless moan. Korra presses her body down on Kuvira's. She nudges her hips forward between Kuvira's legs. Korra releases Kuvira's wrists and instead grabs her waist. She pulls Kuvira's center to her hips and continues to grind gently.
"We should have done this more often. Before you were in demand to be a gladiator," Kuvira murmurs as she presses a kiss against the underside of Korra's jaw.
Korra smiles and plants a kiss on top of Kuvira's brow. "After I earn my freedom, I will spend every night with you," Korra promises.
Kuvira stiffens underneath Korra. "Three years is a long time," The Emperor's daughter murmurs.
"What are you saying?" Korra asks as she rolls off of Kuvira.
"I am saying that a lot changes in three years," Kuvira says and tugs down her robe to cover her thighs.
"What will change between us? We have been this way since we were thirteen," Korra says, her voice laced with concern.
"Korra. I am the adopted daughter of the Emperor. I will be sold off, like cattle," Kuvira says bitterly.
"Amica mea, do not despair. Like you said before, the Spirits are in control now," The tan woman says, "If it is meant to be, it will happen."
"I wish I shared your optimism, Korra. But you will not ever have to worry about being married off. You will have freedom," Kuvira growls to no one in particular.
I may not survive the arena. I am a slave. I always have been. In the arena, I will still be a slave. I will have no freedom, just like now. You have everything. Why are you complaining? Korra thinks angrily.
"Only if I manage to survive three years in the arena," Korra points out, careful not to show her anger.
"You will. After your training, you will be a fearless warrior. You have the advantage of bending water. You will be unstoppable. Unconquerable," Kuvira responds.
Korra's heart thumps wildly like an untamed horse at the mention of bending.
"May I tell you a secret?" Korra asks in a small, quiet, voice.
"Of course," Kuvira says. She curls up against Korra's side and rests her head on Korra's chest.
"When I killed that man today," Korra says slowly.
"Hm?"
"I...bended...fire," Korra chokes out.
Once again, Kuvira stiffens but relaxes right away. The art of bending is not foreign to Kuvira. She herself is a master earthbender. The Imperial Family is blessed with the gift of bending. Opal is a non-bender. Huan and the twins, Wing and Wei, are excellent earth benders. Bataar I and his successor are not benders but his wife Suyin is.
"What?" Kuvira asks, voice tense with shock.
"When I punched the air, fire came out of my fist," Korra explains.
Kuvira's breathing slows. "There was a man before you-"
"I know," Korra says, cutting Kuvira off. "His name was Aang. He too was a gladiator."
"Except he could bend all four elements. Can you? " Kuvira inquires.
"I do not know. I must have to. Nobody else is able to bend two elements. It is all the elements or none at all," Korra mutters.
Kuvira smiles. "So what kind of bending are you going to pose as in the arena?"
"Waterbending," Korra answers quickly without hesitation. "I have mastery of it, so it would be more useful to me than fire"
"It suits you," Kuvira murmurs. "After all, you are from the Northern tribes"
Korra, especially when she was younger, wondered about the family she had before she became of slave. Was her father a warrior? A leader? And what of her mother, was she too a fierce warrior? Was she caring and loving, just as a mother should be? Or what about potential siblings? Did she have them? If she did were her brothers and sisters slaves too? Or were they free to run in the frozen tundra?
A feeling of intense envy rolls through Korra. Her imaginary siblings are free, but not her.
Why is everyone free but Korra?
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The next evening is hectic and chaotic. Servants swarm Korra like a bunch of bees. Hiroshi managed to find a school that would accept Korra. It only took him a few hours after the sun rose in the sky. Korra is impressed by this feat. She did not think that Hiroshi could manage finding her a school within a day. Apparently, slaves of the Imperial Family are in high demand. Imperial slaves mean a higher turnout since the Emperor himself sponsors the event. Everyone wants to go where the Emperor does.
Korra's departure is not large and meaningful. She had packed a few of her belongings beforehand. Kuvira nods in Korra's general direction as she walks through the hallways of the palace. A few of the servants do not make eye contact. The others bow their heads with respect; others look solemn. Opal, when she sees Korra, runs to hug her and wish her luck. Korra thanks her with a huge grin.
Before Korra leaves with Hiroshi, they bump into Asami.
"Korra! Good luck in the arena! I know you will do amazing," Asami beams.
Korra mutters her thanks, trying to avoid eye contact with the beautiful woman. Asami gives Korra's bicep a squeeze as she walks past. Korra tries to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks.
Hiroshi escorts Korra through the crowded streets of Rome. Korra had not gone out much before. She watches the bustling people in awe. There are so many people, Korra thinks to herself. This is truly a golden age for Rome.
"Keep walking. The carriage is just up ahead," Hiroshi barks.
Korra pulls her gaze off of the people and to the street. She looks ahead of her to where Hiroshi is walking. He walks briskly, which causes his belly to jiggle up and down underneath his toga. Korra smirks with amusement.
When they arrive to the Colosseum, Korra's breath is taken away. It is massive and intimidating. Large arches are filled with statues of the heroes from the past. It is bigger than any other building Korra had ever seen. It is even more massive than the Collis Palatium. It is a pure white that in the sunlight, is enough to hurt Korra's eyes when she looks at it. What hits Korra next is the deafening sound of people. Hundreds, maybe even thousands are cheering inside of the arena.
"There must be a chariot race today," Hiroshi grumbles.
Korra nods and rips her gaze off of the structure. She follows Hiroshi through a massive entrance arch.
"You are very lucky, Korra," Hiroshi spats. "The school is located right here in the arena. Not all Ludi Gladiatorium are so close. You will be treated better than the average slave, since you are from the Emperor. You should be thankful."
"I am very grateful of your services," Korra says, trying to bite back her anger. Hiroshi has never treated Korra well, anyways. He always barks orders at her. He always expects for Korra to worship the ground he walks on.
Korra refuses to, of course. She owes nothing to Hiroshi, absolutely nothing. He simply followed the Emperor's orders to find Korra a school. In a way, he is just like Korra. He too is a slave that has to obey every order.
Hiroshi leads her through what seems to be an endless maze. Finally, they reach the entrance to the arena. Hulking gladiators stand in only loincloths. They have no real weapons, only wooden swords strapped to their belts. Not a single woman appears amongst their ranks.
The gladiators stand in waiting until a tall, slender man begins to yell.
"Alright, you dogs! The crowd is getting bored from the chariot races. They need some entertainment! Who here is a non-bender?" The tall man yells while pulling on his eccentric mustache.
The majority of hands raise. The tall man nods.
"This is not a duel to the death. It is strictly for entertainment purposes. You two!" The strange man points to two men. "Put on cestii. Give them something to cheer about!"
The two men nod and quickly put their leather gloves on and jog out to the arena. The crowd roars in anticipation.
The eccentric man takes notice to Hiroshi and Korra. "Hello! You must be the Emperor's slave!"
Hiroshi nods. "This is Korra."
"You will be training with Lin, not me," The man says. "I am Varrick, a lanista. I specialize with male, non-bender training"
"It is an absolute pleasure," Hiroshi says.
A voice comes from behind Korra and Hiroshi. The voice is female and very rough. Korra turns around first, eager to see who it is. Hiroshi moves slower, much like a turtle.
"You must be the novicius," She turns her gaze to Hiroshi. "Leave, you have no more business here"
Korra beams inwardly and decides that she likes her trainer.
Hiroshi opens his mouth to protest but shuts it after a moment of consideration. He turns and leaves.
The woman, who Korra assumes is Lin, looks Korra over.
"Not much to look at here. No muscle at all. And no previous training, I assume," Lin clicks her tongue. The feeling of admiration for her trainer disappears faster than it came. Korra frowns.
"We will get you into shape, no problem. But first, you need an examination," Lin says, her voice rough like stone.
"An examination?" Korra asks. She never had been told about an examination prior to gladiatorial training.
"A medical examination. We need to know if you are physically ready for the arena," Lin explains sharply.
Korra lets out a sigh and follows Lin to an older lady.
"This is Katara," Lin says, pointing to a woman of Northern descent. "She heals wounded gladiators if they do not die in the arena. She also examines new recruits"
The older lady smiles with a comforting warmth. Her eyes are very blue and are much like Korra's. Her white hair is pulled into a bun. Two stray loops of hair frame the old woman's face.
"Hello," Katara croons. "Welcome to the arena"
"It is nice to be here," Korra admits.
"Well, then. Let us begin your examination," Katara says.
The examination takes a little less than an hour. Katara strips Korra to her bare skin and looks for obvious physical deformities. After she puts her clothes on again, Korra jogs around the small training area and then performs several push-ups. Katara nods as she checks Korra's pulse.
"You are fit to be a fine warrior," Katara beams. "You will be excellent in the arena. There is much more to do, however. You will be taught the ways of the arena. You will be brandished and tattooed. You will train endlessly. Your specific type of gladiator fighter will be determined based on the strengths you show during training. And once you survive your first match, which I know you will, you will truly be a gladiator."
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Veni, Vidi, Vici- I came, I saw, I conquered
Vir Immortalis- Immortal Hero
Cruor- Blood
Stolla- A tunic or robe
Gladius- A roman short sword
Cosmetae- A slave that specializes in cosmetics and taking care of their masters
Palla- A robe with a veil
Libertatem- Freedom
Magnus Dux- Great Leader
Mamillare- An ancient bra
Subligacula- Undergarments
Collis Palatium- The palace of the Emperor
Ludi Gladiatorium- Gladiator school; where gladiators train and prepare for the arena
Cestii- Ancient boxing gloves
Lanista- The owner of a gladiator troop
Novicius- A gladiator that has not fought in his or her first battle
