A/N This will be a tough chapter. Thank you to those who PMd me about some old content in earlier chapters that was inconsistent with the rewrite. Those have been fixed. I'm so glad so many people are enjoying this rewrite and the slight change in the path this story takes. Lucy is still our girl everyone, she won't be punished for things not her fault, at least not by the Gods. This chapter grew too big so has been split into 2. Here's part 1...DESNA
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The Dark Eagle. They had called him that after his first victory in the arena when he was 12. He'd killed a grown man and a very vicious augmented tiger that day. Yesterday he had stood impassively, unmoving, his face devoid of any emotion or even seeming awareness of anything, his eyes glassy as the wide eyed trembling servants of the wealthy person who had paid to do whatever they were planning to do with him that night moved around him like frightened mice. He was due to fight in the arena the following day today's fight had been almost dull; augmented beasts being tested by the labs, 10 of them should have been a hell of a challenge but the poor things had been driven mad by the changes made to them and one actually killed itself, tearing its own body apart in a corner while all hell broke loose around it. It had been amusing to Zen, he was sure some of the scientists and mages from the labs would be showing up in the pits soon after that, if he got the chance, he'd make their deaths unpleasant.
All his life they had tried to restrict his magic, tried to suppress his long black wings in particular. More than once they had tried to burn or even cut away the deep black marks across the back of his shoulders, it looked like a vivid tattoo of wings, stretching across the back of his shoulders, a mark he'd had since birth, and was where those deadly black wings of his emerged when they came out, but nothing they had ever done fully controlled them, Zen had always been able to call on them when he'd needed to use them. So far, nothing, no steel, no sword, spear, claw, fire, acid, magic, nothing could penetrate them, even a wyverns full fire breath didn't even singe the glossy black feathers, and Zen could make those feathers like razors, could make the top edges of his wings into blades so sharp they could slice a hair in half lengthwise and they were long, his full wingspan topping 30 feet end to end when he spread them.
He watched the servants as they scurried around him trying not to roll his eyes or respond at all, well aware of the cameras probably on him from all angles, this was the palace after all.
He wouldn't harm them, he had no reason to, they were no more than slaves, not anywhere near as valued as he was. Valued so little in fact they had been given a task that could, if they did anything to offend the tall gladiator, result in a very fast and unpleasant death. They knew it, which was why when he sighed with boredom they all gasped and scurried against the walls of the small room wide eyed before realizing he wasn't doing anything violent and resuming their task. They were bathing him, he'd long since stopped being annoyed by the fact he almost never got to bathe himself.
People literally paid for the privilage of bathing him after fights, some paid with their lives when they got too bold in how they touched him too, nobody had raped him since he had turned 20 a few years ago, and he only knew that because the man who had violated him that day, King Karadin, ruler of Pergrand, had told him it was his 20th birthday in addition to being his 100th victory in the arena and that was why he had earned the "honor" of having the king drug him almost out of his mind, chain him to a heavy marble slab and try to fuck him.
Try being the important thing, because while King Karadin had, in fact, gotten his vile cock into Zens body, he had managed exactly 7 thrusts before Zen, embracing all the rage inside of him and calling on his heavily suppressed magic had broken free, and promptly killed every guard not fast enough to get the hell out of the room while dodging his wildly swinging and slicing razor sharp wings.
He'd been drugged so heavily he'd not managed to find Karadin fast enough, or the King of Pergrands head would have been the first to hit the floor, no, the kings men had gotten him out of the room in time to save him from Zens wrath, and the gladiator had been returned to his cell, beaten and bleeding but...Karadins vile cum wasn't running down his legs, no mans had in a number of years, Zen had become lethal by the age of 13, and completely unpredictably good at killing anyone who tried anything with him against his will by the time he was 16, the last guard to rape him had died a very ugly death at Zens feet the day after he'd done so, and since then, a few had tried, all with the same results, gruesome nighmarish deaths at the gladiators feet.
The other gladiators had stopped taunting him, teasing him or trying anything with him by the time he was 16 too, almost 6 feet tall by then, a little gangly, but all muscle, and now he stood 6' 5" with abundant very well toned and heavy muscle, he'd filled out his tall frame very well, and all his time in the sun had his already caramel Boscan complexion in a rich tan that his owner adored, he was always oiled down before he fought to enhance how good his skin looked, how beautifully built his body was, and his armor had become more and more indecently skimpy, they'd have done him a favor to send him in to fight naked truthfully, the mesh g-strings and leather straps holding up token pieces of armor placed only to accentuate his body not to actually protect him only served as mild irritants while he fought.
The audiences though adored the show of flesh, and yesterday he'd strode from the ring past other gladiators in wash stalls, chained down while nobles got their thrills with them and glared at the ones just outside the heavy metal bars of his own wash stall, daring them to try, the last one who had fell in two halves to the ground, had even been able to emit a few sounds from his upper body and gaped at the sight of his lower half a few feet away from him before he'd died. Maybe THAT image would cool down the disgusting men of Pergrand, he'd hoped...but it hadn't, there were just as many there the next time he fought, but yesterday he'd been led to a private room after he was rinsed off, and had stiffened at the change of routine.
It always meant they planned something, usually some noble wanting a shot at him. Sometimes a woman, a daughter or wife of one they hoped he would impregnate, give them strong sons to brag about. He never did, he'd learned how to control his body even if he did relent and let himself indulge, he was Boscan after all, and thanks to stories he'd been told by other gladiators, by slave women given to him after good fights, he knew a little of what being Boscan was, why his blood burned for the pleasures his body could deliver and receive more than he wanted it to at times.
He knew too his mother had died when they had taken him, during the explosion at the embassy, that they had lied to his father and his father and brother believed he was dead with his mother, they had even shown him video of his father weeping, of his older brother crying when they told him, of his father, carrying his still crying brother up the ramp onto a Boscan ship and flying away from Pergrand never to return again.
Guards brought pictures of his family, showed him how his father had adopted many children, he had 5 brothers and two beautiful sisters. He had even killed a guard who had held up a picture of his brother Kaleb from a magazine while he jerked off staring at it, when the man had cum on the picture, Zens wing had rammed through his chest, slicing clean through the thick iron door of his cell and showing the guards they weren't safe teasing him even from the outside of his heavily fortified cell.
When the oils they rubbed over his cleaned skin were scented he had almost rolled his eyes, choosing instead to narrow them on the slender male servant who was spending too much time on his knees rubbing oil on Zens thighs while he stared at the gladiators cock.
The servant moved hastily, bringing a black g-string Zen sneered at. "They're just taking it off of me, why bother?" He demanded impatiently. If it was a woman, he might just lay with her, he tended to indulge the frightened women they gave him to, his owners daughter was a regular visitor but she prefered he was tied down on an x-frame in a candle lit room, scented oils weren't her style.
No, this time, after he'd grudgingly let the servant pull the g-string onto him, growling at the man as he'd tried to "adjust" how it fit, he was given a black silk robe and led to a heavily armored carriage. He cursed his luck, wishing he'd known, if he'd suspected they were taking him out of the coliseum he'd have saved up more of his magic, his best chances at escape came while he was being transported somewhere.
Instead he'd expended too much in his fight, the beasts had been uncoordinated, but savage, so knew he didn't have enough to break the chains and manacles and get out of the carriage before they were on him, he could hear the guards accompanying his transport, no, if he showed his strength now he'd just have a worse time later.
So instead he had ridden quietly, allowed himself to be removed once the carriage was inside wherever they had brought him.
The scents, the peacocks, the white marble halls...he'd been here before...the palace. So...Karadins niece, the king wanted her to produce strong children for him, she'd already been bred to Cellis, had produced a child last year, a son even, and had then become Karadins absolute favorite brood bitch. The damn disgusting monster was trying again to get a son from Zen. He tried now and then, had started trying to get Zen to sire children when he'd been only 16, but he'd made the mistake of sending the pleasure slaves Karadin liked so much to "help" Zen want to have sex, figuring Zen was like Pergrandians thought all men should be and only enjoyed pleasure with other men, most Pergrandians had their lovers get them going then they would cum in a woman.
That hadn't worked for Zen...at...all. So Karadin had tried a variety of things, sent in woman after woman, but Zen had overheard his owner talking about how important getting Zen with something fertile was.
Zen was so far from wanting to do anything that made that fucking King happy it was rediculous.
So...Karadin could impregnate the woman himself because Zen sure as hell wouldn't be cooperating. The scents of the flowers made him remember the last woman he had actually given that chance to, to bear a child of his. It had been to save the poor things life, she wasn't going to last much longer, had reeked of infection and most of her bones were showing by the time she'd been tossed in with him more than two months ago he figured, it was hard to recall, time passed so strangely in the pits, the guards had laughed, told him to do her a favor and fuck her to death.
Any other gladiator would have done just that, and a few cages down he'd heard one of the new gladiators scream out "NO! Don't hurt her!" But that fool was barely able to get his screams out while a line of nobles were taking turns fucking him senseless, pretty thing, far shorter than Zen, smaller, but he had long black hair and exotic eyes and he knew how to fight, he just couldn't fight the drugs they hit him with, and by the time he'd come to after getting injected in the wash stall after a fight he was already bound with a noble pounding away into his body. It happened to most of the gladiators. Good fighters claimed high price tags for a noble to buy the honor of having sex with them.
So, the new man could barely manage to scream out to Zen before he had a ball gag followed by a dick shoved into his mouth to silence him.
Zen had ignored him, he wouldn't hurt someone so clearly already near death. She'd whimpered when he'd touched her, and he'd brought over his own basin of medicated water to wash her body, had patiently held a cup to her lips and let her drink down most of his tea, then fed her and let her rest, when she had sat up, he'd told her he could get her out of the stadium, all he had to do was fuck her, cum inside her and she'd be bought and fed and cared for on the chance she'd get pregnant.
It was a risk to him, if she did get pregnant and bore a son, they might kill the troublesome Dark Eagle, but as frail as she was he doubted she would.
She'd accepted, so broken, so weak, she didn't really care, was desperate enough if he'd offered her a painless death she'd have thanked him for it. Instead he did all he could to make what he had to do pleasing to her, in her weak state that hadn't been easy but she'd mustered strength enough she'd started meeting his thrusts as he had her ride him, and he'd let himself go into her, more than once so the guards were running for his owner, a bidding war had begun right over his cell as he'd held the bony woman, and a man who had a brother in the country won, rubbing his hands together, eyes roving over the Dark Eagle hungrily.
She'd asked his real name and he'd told her. "Zen...my name is Zen Pradesh."
"I'm Cana...the one who screamed...he's my friend...his name is Bacchus...please don't let him die here…" She had whimpered.
"I have no control over that, I can't help him like I could you...I'm sorry Cana." He'd said softly and he'd made sure she ate, slept, before he would allow anyone in his cell to collect her.
He had no idea how she had fared, but he could do nothing more for her. It was strange how seeing certain things, made him remember her, he'd thought of her yesterday as he was brought into the luxurious suite and chained to the bed, the scent of some flower had brought those memories, wafting over him, his neck collar attached to a heavy iron chain that was set into the wall above the center of the beds headboard. He could move around the bed pretty freely at least.
He wasn't made to wait though, the kings niece had come into the room shortly after he was left there.
"Eagle." She said, bowing low, she wore nothing but a gauzy see through robe in a blush pink, had large breasts and wide hips, pouty lips to Zen she was lovely, sexy even, made his blood heat and his cock twitch, but it didn't change the fact Karadins blood was part of her.
She started toward him and he didn't retreat, let her climb onto the bed with him, let her even climb onto his body and kiss him. "Please...give yourself to me tonight...give me a son to raise into a ruler of Pergrand." She whispered as she kissed over his neck, running her hands down to open the robe he wore.
He weighed options as he kissed her back, listened to her murmur about loving his long hair, begged him to show her how a Boscan man could deliver pleasure. He could have done it, could show the woman how well he knew how to use his body for something other than killing, or, he could have killed her and let Karadin weep the loss of his favorite breeder.
He couldn't...almost wished he was hard enough to do something like that, but instead he had flipped the woman to her back and taken her, let himself get lost between her silky thighs, press into soft ample curves and he showed her what a Boscan could do, fucked her all through the night, was still pumping into her from behind when the servants came in the morning, standing and staring as they watched their exhausted mistress, facedown in the bed, ass in the air, get fucked by the Dark Eagle, they watched him pull free of her before he came too. Letting himself go into the sheets while she whimpered "Why…"
"No child of mine will have any blood of Pergrand in them." Zen spat, shoving away from her and ripping the chain out of the wall, showing everyone he'd never really been restrained, could have left had he wanted to, could have killed the pretty niece of the King had he wanted to, and could have cum inside her but he didn't, no...he just fucked her until she could barely move, until her limbs were worn out, until she had screamed out her end so many times she'd almost lost her voice. Then he'd left her sobbing in the bed. It had helped him relax, let out some pent up frustration, his own slap in the face of his slavery however futile it might have been.
Now it seemed today, the King was getting his revenge, or his owner was, probably a combination of the two, Zen was standing looking out over the arena, he was being put up against Cellis and Bacchus and that meant, he was going to have to protect Bacchus from Cellis and keep Bacchus from harming him while he did it. He would help that girls friend the one he'd just remembered yesterday while being taken to the kings niece, Cana , all he could, and he knew it wasn't much, but it was all he could do, the best way of holding onto his humanity in this nest of misery.
He drew a breath, blocking out the deafening din of the crowds, focusing his attention on the other two gladiators, when the bell rang, he would need to rush to Bacchus, he knew how Cellis fought in these contests, he would take out the weak opponent first so he could focus on the one that might be a problem. Right now...Bacchus, bruised and a little thin, his owner over selling him in his zeal at finally owning a Gladiator that had done some winning, was the weakest of them.
Even this, King or not, the owners could refuse a fight, they were encouraged to be shrewd in who they put their Gladiators against. In Zens case, his owner was the kings own nephew, brother to the woman he'd refused to be a stud for last night. It made sense his owner would gamble him after he'd left the mans sister like he had, but Bacchus, in his case, his owner was just being foolish, likely hoping Cellis and Zen would wear each other down and his weaker fighter could take advantage.
It was a stupid risk, neither Zen nor Cellis were foolish fighters, both had good records, though only Zen remained undefeated since shortly after his 17th year., Cellis had mostly victories, but he'd been recovered from the ring more than a few times, his owner paying to keep him from being killed when he lost, in fact, Cellis' owner had paid Zens quite a bit more than once, this wouldn't be the first time Zen had fought the big Encan. He'd beaten him in contests like these before, was always ordered to back off and not finish him, and, he hadn't, Cellis had never wronged Zen, respected him, and that actually helped him, because Cellis was brutal, vicious, and if he respected Zen, most of the others did too.
Life in the gladiator pits was nightmarish, and there was little mercy, so respect mattered, rare as it was, and Zen commanded it, any Gladiators that came in and tried him he put down fast and without mercy, if he did this...it could actually make Bacchus' life in the pits a little better and worse at the same time.
Better because during their work outs each morning he would not likely be getting gang raped anymore, the other gladiators too afraid of pissing Zen off to keep doing that, worse because then the guards would take after him, trying to use him as control leverage with Zen. If that happened, he'd be forced to let Bacchus endure whatever they dished out because if he reacted, it would only get worse for both of them.
So, it was with a good bit of thought he made his choice, and when the bell rang, he raced toward Bacchus and fortunately, Bacchus rushed right toward him, so Cellis had to play catch up while Zen closed the distance fast.
Bacchus' look of desperation suddenly held a flicker of Hope as Zen met his eyes and instead of squaring off on him, tripped him, let him tumble past and behind him and brought his sword up deflecting Cellis' axe that would have probably cut the smaller man in half as he'd fallen.
Cellis narrowed his cold eyes, he'd had no intention of fighting Zen any more than he absolutely had to, he knew the Dark Eagle could kill him, the man had proven it time and again and he didn't want to die, his plan was simple, kill the little bitch, sure he was a nice piece of ass, Cellis himself had fucked the pretty thing just yesterday out in the yard, nice tight ass, and it was a shame to end him, but he had to draw blood to keep his owner happy, and a happy owner meant good food, clean bedding and sexy male slaves for him to enjoy. Losses meant cold food and scrawny bather slave women he was as likely to kill out of frustration as to fuck. He had grown up in Pergrand, his masculine blood only drew deep pleasure when found in a masculine embrace, power to power, one only rutted women to produce offspring, though he'd not mind having that pretty fair haired thing that he'd sired a whelp with again.
Putting another strong male child into that woman would make him feel just fine. But you only got chances like that when you won, and he needed blood on his axe, knew he'd never get it from the Dark Eagle, that bastard took on fucking berserkers and wyverns single handed in his matches, Cellis would barely be a challenge and the older gladiator fucking knew it. His owner had already told him if he got blood he'd buy his life, so he knew The Dark Eagle would get ordered off, and so far the Eagle had always obeyed that with him, so why was the man now suddenly taking him on instead of doing just what he'd planned to do and taking out the weakest fighter?
He backed off quickly, circling, trying to get at the shorter man, maybe the Eagle wanted him for himself? It wasn't unheard of, there were two Gladiators here, Markess and Finore from Sin, you never wanted to be in the ring against them when they were together because they'd join forces, kill their opponents then start fucking each other right in the arena, drove the crowds insane.
Maybe the Eagle had that in mind? Shit...if he did Cellis wanted the fuck in because he would gleefully even get on his knees and take it from the Dark Eagle, that man was the finest piece of ass in fucking Pergrand and nobody, just nobody had had him, not in years, nobody could break him not even the fucking king with a slew of his finest guards, not since he was a child and Cellis fucking repespected that.
How to convey that to the Eagle though without getting his head lopped off was another thing. He gave the man a confused look.
"You want him? Want to bend him over and make the crowds scream? Eagle...let me kill him and I'll get down on my knees and you can fuck me blind...I'd take you any way, any time, join forces with you...suck that gorgeous cock and worship you at your feet…" He said low and careful, watching the brilliant amethyst eyes narrow so he knew the man had heard him.
"I've no interest in fucking anyone before the crowds...I will not let you kill him though...he's mine." He responded in a low voice and Cellis was stunned, growled,shaking his head and smacking the flat of his axe to his chest. Why the hell would a warrior like the Dark Eagle want some little bitch that couldn't keep his own ass from getting raped every damn day? Gods, Cellis had fucked him out of pity as much as anything else yesterday just so the others would back the hell off of him and let Cellis relax in peace without hearing the mans screams...he'd had a damn headache and needed the quiet. Turned out the pretty thing was a seriously decent fuck, so that had been a win, but now...now here he was and he was bloody pissed about it.
He didn't want to fight the damn Dark Eagle over even a good piece of ass like that one. He didn't want to fight him at all, last time he'd ended up with a broken arm and four broken ribs, the Eagle was a fucking monster.
The crowd was growing restless, screaming for blood, and Cellis wanted nothing more than to give it to them, knew he couldn't land a blow on the Eagle so he started trying to rush past him.
Bacchus had recovered his feet after being sent tumbling into the dirt and he heard what Cellis said. He knew too well who the dark Gladiator was, The Dark Eagle, the top Gladiator in Skysreach, probably the best in Pergrande, even the beast Cellis respected him, and Bacchus had wanted a clean death, so he'd rushed the Eagle, expecting his head to be removed, it would end this, his miserable existence in this hell. The man to kill him being the same one that had saved Cana and he knew that, also knew his strength was fading, he was fed well, but he got little rest, he could fend off the guards, but the drugs took a while to clear his system, and he hadn't passed a day since he and Cana had been captured without getting raped.
He knew that unlike Cana, he had little hope of being removed from the pits, maybe if a noble liked him enough they would buy him as a pleasure slave, but he wasn't sure that would be better than this. At least here he could try to fight off the ones trying to fuck him. No, he'd had no hope at all until those cold purple eyes of the Dark Eagle had met his and in a moment he'd known, the man meant to help him, he had helped Cana, and Cana...bless the womans heart..had probably said something to him.
So he stayed back, brandishing his sword to protect himself from Cellis, he already knew Cellis could overpower him, he'd done so in the work out yard and that had been naked without any weapon in his hand.
Cellis seemed very unhappy about taking on the Dark Eagle, and was hovering, trying to bargain, the Eagles stating Bacchus was his...that changed everything. Bacchus gaped at the statement, being claimed by Zen would mean at least the other gladiators would leave him alone...possibly most of the guards too...dear Gods his hell might become a little less hellish.
Even the crowd quieted, and as they did, that was when he heard it, the sound of explosions...and not just any explosions, magical ones…
The crowd started milling and murmuring, people turning and looking in alarm toward plums of black smoke starting to rise here and there, then, a brilliant blinding pillar of light came down from the sky and the air over the coliseum flashed, wards and runes flaring violently, the light flickering, and another powerful beam hit the coliseums defenses followed by more and now people were screaming, starting to rush for the exits.
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Lucy was panting, whirling and directing another attack on the coliseum beside Freed as Presca and Kittar sent guards flying or crumpling in Prescas case. Loke stood beside her, eyes narrowed in grim concentration, both of them sending regulus attacks against the wards and barriers protecting Skysreach.
Freeds rapier was whistling through the air as he formed runes that started undoing the protections from within the very weave of the magic that formed them and Emzadi held a hand aloft, every time she spread her fingers a column of blinding sunlight hit the dome of protection and shook the ground,sent dust puffing as the very foundations of the place shook under the Dragon Slayers assault.
Lucy could smell the acrid stench of old magic being burned away but she didn't let up. They had jumped from position to position, coordinated carefully with precision with dozens of other teams that were hitting places all over Rommel, the city guard didn't know who was who or where anything was happening, they moved so quickly.
The assault on the city of Romell had begun, and Lucy glanced down, knowing another team was racing into the bowels of this horrible place on another mission.