The arena was silent, barricaded off from the rest of the world by the thick stone walls that surrounded it, engraved around the base in the earliest recorded runes, offering a shield of protection to anyone standing outside. For people standing inside, though, it was another matter. Scorches of fire streaked the insides, power residing in every burn, with cracks and scratches criss-crossing them; the desperation of so many who never came out screaming through the holes, and from this, protection couldn't be given. The screams of others echoed besides, rebounding off of the now barren stands which overlooked the dusty basin, cheers of victors and cries of champions smashed and pummelled under the name of Pride slicing across the stilled silence. And no bird would glide over the open rooftop, or swoop around the grand pillars of the once glorious gathering place, and from the smallest of flies to the mightiest of desert lions; none would roam within ten leagues of the place.
But one stood alone, silhouetted by the morning sun, and protection wasn't what she sought. Neither the victory of a champion, nor the glory of death could still her thundering heart, but the beat of another's that had passed before. Except here, she knew, she could smell him, like burnt roses, whispering on the February dawn, and she could feel his eyes on her back, watching her, pride washing out of his heart until it made her want to weep, yet to feel that again, there was nothing that she would not give. Nothing she would not take. And yet all the giving and taking had been done, and still; there she stood, knowing full well the irony of the full circle that she'd travelled. But somewhere along the way, grim determination had set in, and her heart slowly began to ice over until survival way a way of life, and love became an unknown entity, and it was murder, or be murdered.
The crowds had gathered all the way along the cobbled streets, hands wringing for another dead idiot who had argued with the Raskoff. Not that he needed anyone to argue with him to split their heads from their necks. So no one took a second look when he murdered people in the street, and no questions were asked when his lovers slowly disappeared, although families cried silently behind locked doors. His rule was complete, unquestionable and, above all, non-debateable. But snap; and every ones attention flicked to the girls arm, for that was who Raskoff was hurling around. Dark hair whipped around her shoulders, and strangely focused eyes for someone who was just getting beaten flicked around the streets. Not pleading, though. Searching and-and bored. Her arm now stuck out at an odd angle from the elbow, and she winced, but not one came forward to help, to speak out, although they were all thinking it. And another blow landed on her head, sending her spinning to the ground until she lay still in the dead centre of the high street, merchants and peasants standing side by side to stare.
"Ugh." Kaia spat, foul tasting blood and grit falling from her mouth as she steadied herself on her feet. This asshole was getting one her nerves, but not yet, she whispered to herself. You told yourself, no more. No more pointless killing and definitely no more getting pissed off at people because they trod on your foot, other wise you'll end up like this prick. But damn, her arm hurt like hell, broken, for sure. Quick, fool. Leave it like that and you'll have to break it again to get it to heal right. Grimacing, she took hold of her right wrist and pulled the bone straight out, and with another click, it slid back into place and she watched as the muscle started to wind itself around the bone and fresh skin over that. Well, and there were a few advantages to being a freak. She laughed bitterly, and turned to face her -opponent, who was currently-smash- wielding a long-smash-metallic looking bar-smash. She lay on her hands and knees, head lowered and teeth clenched in an attempt to stop the onslaught of blood gushing out of her mouth. Still, it poured, and would've soaked her hands if she hadn't pushed herself up, staggering and holding her head, to a standing position. But the guy was merciless, and against her better judgement she didn't react as the metallic baseball bat came around at her head for a fourth time, and smash...she was on her back. Smash-smash-SMASH-and that was two, three, four ribs broken, but still, she was conscious, conscious of the fact that any more bloodloss and she'd be dead herself. So it was when the bat was about to come smashing into her ribs for the fourth time that she finally, against her better judgement, let go of what little self control she had.
"What the fuck..." Theo trailed off, sheathing his twin daggers and leaping the three remaining rooftops to get a better view of the streets. The others followed, hesitant and curious as to what had pulled all the viewers in the street, packed up on either side as they were. It surely wasn't Raskoff, because no one ever stopped him when he started on some one-only –it was. And damn, he was laying into this one. The others noticed as well. "Jeez, what's he done-murdered Razz's bitch of a mother?" "Oh, and we can talk, Rafi." Mik laughed. "Cus our mom was a bunch of laughs, and really non-violent to go along, eh?" Rafi snorted, but the rest were too caught up in the crowds to really listen to the brothers. "And what's takin' Razz so long, he's usually hell bent on leaving as many people as possible disfigured, you know, to remind everyone of what an asshole he is...hey, wait-that doesn't look like any guy I ever saw..." Mik was peering over the rooftop, but even with his précised vision, they were at the wrong angle, and not high enough to see over the distant heads. So they sat and stared for a while, assuming it would soon be over. "So, what's say we get a closer look, boys?" Marco said in an undertone, before dropping over the side of the low roof, the rest closely on his tail. They flitted through the streets, unseen by the few who decided to remain at home, and as the sun reached its peak above the crammed high street, the boys spilled out into the mass of people, and weaved their way to the front, until they could clearly see what all the fuss was about...and they could hardly believe their eyes.
Kaia felt like she hadn't had a workout in a long, long time. Her whole body was tingling, her feet hopping from one to another, her legs aching to sprint, but still she stood there, waiting for that kid to get up off of the ground. Although he wasn't moving. And there was a pool of blood around his head. Shit. Get up, damn it! Get up! Still, he lay there, and what would they think of her, if he died? Surely they'd see her for the monster that she was, but she wasn't ready to let them know that, just yet. She squatted down beside him, wondering if she should roll him over to see the full extent of his facial injuries, when several things happened at once. She saw something nestling on his collarbone, something that looked too heavy and metallic to carry around for jewel, and far too expensive a material for someone here, even one so prestigious as he, and just as the sunlight reflected off of the metallic surface, a movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, a group of six or seven young men breaking through the crowd, dressed entirely in mottled greys and blacks. One, who looked by far the youngest, carried twin daggers sheathed at his hip, and what looked like rubies inlaid on the handles, with a swirling pattern of gold to accompany them, which was what had caught her eye to start with. But as it did, Raskoffs fist came smashing into the side of her face and, using the momentum to flip into a crouch, she ended up back on the ground, one hand spread behind her, while the other supported, and blood pumping through her veins. Focus, idiot. A low snarl rose in her chest, ripping out of her teeth in such a feral way that her leap was that of a feline, pouncing on her prey. They landed one on top of another, Kaia pinning Rasskoffs arms beside him with her knees, as her fist connected solidly with his face, breaking his nose. He hadn't that much pain in a long, long time, and any memories had been long buried.
Read and review? Max and the gang will be in the next couple chapters, just building up to it.
It's one of my first, but I'd appreciate constructive criticism.