Summary: The life of the treasured princess of the Great Empire was blissful, before the faithful day she met a slave… Who is he? And why doesn't he speak to her? Follow the princess as she embarks on her journey to save her beloved Empire with a Gladiator. This story is based on some of the Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal characters and some from the Original Yu-Gi-Oh! series (who will make their appearances later).
Disclaimer: I do not own the Yu-Gi-Oh! Series (The Original and ZEXAL included). Therefore I do not own the characters used in this story but I DO OWN the plot and the OCs used. Thank you.
Enjoy.
1 – Prologue
"Anyone there…?"
Silence. A hand clenched onto the hard, cold bar of the cage.
"Hello…? Please someone tell me where I am… Please…"
No response. A soft sigh was echoed from the one who spoke. They released the bar and crept slowly towards the corner of the cage, where the radiance of the moonlight shined on them. They leaned against the grey stonewall and arched their head to the side. A closer look at the prisoner there sat a beautiful, innocent-looking young lady. She had extremely long, blonde hair that reached knee length and deep aquatic blue eyes that slightly resembled the shade of the sky – her fairly pale complexion showed the true essence of her beauty.
However, a few bruises were visible on her elegant face, legs and smooth shoulders. Her torn fascia which had been tied tightly around her body across her large bust and under clothing was slightly loose, exposing a lot of cleavage than she liked. The purple woolen tunic that she once wore proudly had been tattered by the ones that captured her. She had been attacked before she arrived here…wherever here was. Maybe 4 or 6… She could not remember the attackers but she could clearly remember how she got herself into this mess because of him.
Nothing ever seemed to be going the right way for Marcella ever since her faithful encounter with the man that brought anger to her soul. She was always been kind to people, the ones she liked and the ones she did not like but for some reason, she could not bring herself to tolerate that maniac in her life. Even though she was locked up in this cage, chained on her bare wrists and ankles, she was grateful to the gods that the kidnappers had not raped her. Marcella could go through her whole life in peace, if they did not do that awful thing to her. Being of the high position in the greatest Empire in the world, she could never live with the shame of such an occurrence.
With a loud yawn erupting from her soft pink lips, she slowly caved into slumber as her eyelids grew harder with every breathe she took. Marcella closed her eyes and laid herself on the piles of hay beneath her, for she cared less of what she would look like at the break of dawn. As she slowly drifted into a sub-conscious state a pair of true purple, emotionless eyes gazed under the cover of darkness, at the young maiden the whole time never revealing their presence in the room. The figure slowly retreated from the room before making one last glance at Marcella.
"Move it slave! Walk faster!" Crack!
Marcella watched in horror as a brunette female – who was leading the trail of female slaves such as her – fell on her knees, with what was left of her shredded tunic as the feeble middle-aged bleed to death on her back. Marcella shook her head at the sight. How could they be so cruel? The woman was barely able to walk anymore with the constant whipping that slave trader was giving her.
She would have tried to do something about it but the slave trader quickly unchained the woman tossing her aside like trash; before summoning 2 other mean-looking men to take the woman away. Marcella had a feeling what they were going to do to her and made a silent prayer for the woman, that her death would be quick and painless. If it wasn't for the bloody chains, that kept each of the slaves locked together, Marcella swore she would have done something to help the innocent brunette. A tear fell down her cheek.
"What are you all standing around for?! Keep moving! Or do you want to join your friend with Pluto?" he exclaimed with a strident voice.
The new leader of the trail of female slaves without second thought started marching to their destination, Mangones. With her deep aquatic blue eyes, Marcella turned her gaze at one of the busiest slave markets across the Empire. She recognized that many of the slaves being put on display were from different regions, mostly from the southern Mediterranean area for instance, the Egyptians. Her father told her of this place, Mangones, once sometime back; never thought she would be seeing it with her own eyes. She did not like hearing about it then and still did not like seeing it now.
Her group was quickly assembled on a wooden podium in a horizontal line, as their slave trader attracted attention towards them. A large number of men, some male aristocrats to Marcella's surprise, crowded rapidly beneath the podium as the bidding for each of them began. One by one, they were sold off. Then finally the slave trader came towards Marcella.
"Now this one gentlemen is a special beauty. She has noble blood running through her veins. You cannot compare her with the rest I have brought for you today. She is at a fruitful age, as you can see…" Marcella looked a bit frightened at how they were all staring at her up and down. Men are such perverts… "She is in good shape and is able to do anything you wish her to, my friends. I could go on describing this delectable creature but we are here to conduct business, so let us begin…"
Marcella looked around ignoring the rest of the commotion and caught sight of a particular figure, wearing a paenula covering their head; that did not seem to be engaged with the crowd, but just looked at her. She blinked twice before she closed her eyes for a brief second, when she opened them they were gone. She searched the crowd for what seemed like an eternity, they were not there. Was I imagining my own things?
Thud!
"What the…?" The slave trader turned his attention towards the sound, as well as Marcella, to see the cloaked figure she just saw some moment ago. They slowly approached Marcella as she stared dazed at them, her legs not willing to follow any of her commands to move away from the figure. For some strange reason, she felt like she knew the person.
"Who do you think you are?!" the slave trader asked the figure, gripping tightly onto the handle of his whip ready to strike them. "Do not take my slave. If you want her, you better get in line and pay up."
"That is right! Get down from there!"
"Take him down!"
"She is mine!"
"No! She is mine!"
Marcella blinked away from the figure and looked down to witness the men brawling against each other, in an unruly way. Before she could process what just happened, as the slave trader was preoccupied trying to calm down his customers; the cloaked figure picked her up into their arms and jumped off the podium, running away from the scene. Marcella wrapped her chained wrists around their neck and closed her eyes hoping she could trust this figure with her life.
Once they were safe and sound from anyone by an isolated street, the figure stopped running and placed Marcella on the ground. She stood her ground opening her eyes to observe her savior. The awkward silence remained between them as they stared at each other for a few minutes. Marcella then finally found the courageous voice to speak to the figure.
"Thank you for saving me… W-Who are y-you?" Alright, an almost courageous voice.
The figure's hands slowly rose to grasp onto the edge of the paenula's hood and draw it back to reveal their face to Marcella. Marcella took a step back as her face expressed confusion at first, then astonishment when she studied their face before her face showed rage, towards the person standing in front of her.
"You!"
I'll explain more about this story in the next chapter. Thank you for reading. If you wish to leave a review, I would appreciate.
