I lasted a week, sobbing for hours on end. I didn't know if I believed that my father was dead. They could have just told me that as a lie to make me suffer.

In speaking with the Emperor, I'd gotten the idea that he would send me somewhere, but after days in an otherwise empty cell block, I was starting to lose faith. The jailor came by twice a day with a weak soup and once a day for my bucket. The rations were bad and I feared I would start to lose weight. On the eighth day, I stopped him just as he was about to leave.

The old man bustled about busily. He'd tried to talk to me a few times, but the Emperor was the only one I'd spoken to. "Sir?"

The jailor looked up from his soup bucket. "Ah, the traitor speaks."

I ignored the jibe and asked, "Am I eligible to fight in the arena?" Here in the Imperial city, there was a large coliseum where combatants fought each other. Most were free men, but prisoners were often offered the chance to compete. For minor criminals, they were even offered forgiveness for their crimes if they survived.

"I'm sure they'd be delighted to let you fight, but don't expect a pardon. Don't expect to win for that matter. They won't go easy on you for your crimes."

"Arrange the fight." Once again, I was resolute. I had a plan to achieve a goal.

The food improved immediately, but not by much. They took three days to prepare a special fight. I received no special instruction during this time, but at the arena, everyone was abuzz. Word had spread of my battle prowess after my capture and the battlemasters were apparently fighting over what challenges to pit against me. Cyrodiil expected me to put up a fight to remember and they had to give me opponents to match.

At first, all the trainers wanted to throw their best at me all at once, but the battle masters decided to try dragging it out. They printed out posters advertising a day of blood. "Come see how long the assassin lasts," they said. These posters were shipped by express courier to every city in Cyrodiil. Thanks to my reputation, everyone would want to see this fight. The profits from the betting would equal mountains of gold. Even the people with no stomach for violence would come to see justice done.

They came for me long before dawn on the third day. They chained the bracers together as I was transported from the prison, under guard to the arena in the city. The moon and the guards torches were the only light. I suppose we had to move that early. If I had been transported during the day, we might have been mobbed.

The arena employees were waiting for us. A young man unlocked an iron gate just in time for us to usher inside. I was led down a set of stairs into a dark underground training area. A single man in iron plate armor sat waiting for me. He was a Redguard. A dark skinned, curly haired human from the desert nation of Hammerfell.

He stood laughing as I approached. "There he is, my champion. Welcome to the arena bloodworks. I'm Owyn, battlemaster of the blue team." He held out his hand for me to shake. I slowly accepted the gesture, surprised by his enthusiasm. He looked to the guards. "I'll take it from here. You gentlemen stand guard outside."

"Are you sure," one of the Legionnaires asked reluctantly?

"I know he's dangerous. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

With a stern look, the Captain handed Owyn a key and retreated with his men, locking the only exit.

Owyn pointed at me with the key. "Now look here Han..."

"It's Han-lu," I interrupted! "Only my father calls me Han."

"Alright then Han-lu, I've been given free reign to help or hinder you as I please. I'll be your only friendly contact until you die out there so I'd recommend you not try to kill me. Now I also decide whether you get those bracers removed for the fight. I'd rather you have full access to your magic, because the longer you last, the more money the arena makes. If I take the bracers off, do you promise to behave?"

I nodded and he unlocked the appendages. I naturally rubbed my wrists which were raw. I felt the warmth of magic start creeping back into my body. Owyn took one look at the raw skin and asked, "Do you want a healer? We have a few good ones on our staff."

"No thanks." I let the magic flow into my wrists, accelerating their healing until the raw wounds were covered in fresh pink skin.

"Hmm." Owyn was obviously pleased with my skill. "That works for me." He directed me to the end of the training hall where there was a large stone fountain meant for washing away blood and gore. There was also a cot set up in a corner. He pointed to a crate stuffed with straw. "We bought a variety of potions for you to recover from wounds, replenish your magic, and just to restore your overall stamina between rounds. You can use them as you like. Now, wash up in the fountain and I'll get you your armor." He moved to leave, but caught himself. "I almost forgot, do you wear heavy armor or light armor?"

"I'll go with light," I answered, stripping off my rough, dirty prison clothes. I used a sponge to wash myself, rinsing it with the cold fountain water. While I washed, I began to doubt my decision. These people would be intent on killing me in the arena, but if I wanted to be sure of whether my father was dead or alive and whether my mother was safe, I had to speak to someone off the Empires payroll.

Owyn returned with a pile of folded clothes and armor. "This will be your battle raiment." He set it down on the cot and threw me a towel. "Let's shoot straight with each other, shall we? I don't care what happened at the palace. I don't care why you volunteered to fight. What I do care about is putting on a show. So be honest with me. Are you actually going kick butt out there or is this some kind of wimpy suicide?"

"Oh, I'll fight." I held up the garment Owyn had brought. It was mostly studded leather with bits of chainmail and decorative blue fabric. The upper part was a short sleeved shirt with thick strips of leather to protect my shoulders. The sides had chainmail covered in the blue cloth. At the bottom it had long strips of leather two inches wide hanging like a skirt to protect my thighs. The outfit also included leather bracers for my fore arms and shin boots. "The citizens will get their show," I promised. "Owyn, do you know what's become of my parents?"

He looked surprised by the question. "No actually. We had special fighting events lined up the past few days and I've barely been home to sleep, let alone read the papers. I could ask your guards if you like."

I waved my hand in dismissal while pulling the armor on. "I'll figure that out in the arena."

Owyn clapped his hands together. "Okay then, let's head up to the killing grounds." I followed him up a long dark passageway. The walls were made of stone, but in the light up ahead, they seemed to be a dark red color. I avoided touching them. At the surface, the sky was still dark.

The tunnel gave way to a large circular area covered in sand. There were two entrances to the field for contestants, directly across from each other. Once they entered the field, their retreat was cut off by an iron portcullis. There were two sets of large wooden doors, but those were for setting up props for the fights. There was also a steel grate in the middle of the field where they released wild creatures.

Owyn strode backwards to the middle of the field, talking as he went. "Notice the guards," he pointed to the stands at the top of the ten foot high walls. No fewer than eight battle mages and twelve legionnaires stood guard over us with spells and bows ready.

"They aren't taking any chances, are they," I asked?

"Nah. Have you ever watched a match here Han-lu?"

"Yes actually. I helped blackmail one of the battlemasters. She had to rig a few matches for us."

Owyn's eyes widened. "You blackmailed one of us," he asked in disbelief?

"That's what I did for a living."

He burst into laughter. I chuckled along side him. "Hold up, hold up. Was it Eranil the high elf?"

"Mmm hmm. My mother caught wind of an affair and she was happy to help us in exchange for keeping the secret."

Owyn doubled over laughing. He tried to gain control of himself. "She was, she was the trainer for the other team. If she had to rig her own fighters to fail, that means you were making me money. Not only that," he wiped a tear from his eye. "Was that around the time she quit two years back?"

"Yeah, I was sixteen."

"I was brand new here. At first, my fighters were having trouble winning, but then it seemed like we were suddenly able to beat some of our toughest competitors. Kid, it might be thanks to you that I wasn't fired before gaining the experience I needed for this job." He clapped his iron shod hand on my shoulder. "We're gonna get along just fine."

One of the guards up above called down to us. "That doesn't sound like instruction to me. Talk business or get back underground!"

Owyn shrugged. "Yeah yeah, we'll get to it. Alright kid, you'll come out this side and they'll come out the other. The portcullis will be closed before you enter the arena. We'll have a weapon rack right here where you'll be able to pick what you want to use before each fight. Once the portcullis opens, you're free to use any means at your disposal to defeat the enemy." He directed my attention to the field. "They may leave the field empty for some fights, but they'll probably put out obstacles and cover."

"What kind of cover?"

"Well, there have been some old buildings here in the city that they've torn out and replaced. The arena purchased some of the stone blocks and columns from the demolition teams and they'll drag those out onto the field with oxen. Depending on what kind of fight they want, they might build wooden fences with spikes to try to make a maze. If that happens, you'll want a ranged weapon or else somebody will pick you off in the maze."

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to visualize the field with obstacles and cover. "How many fights will there be?"

"Five, depending on how long you last of course. By the way, what kind of magic do you know?"

I took a moment to think over the different types of magic. "I'm best at conjuration. In my line of work, it pays to be able to summon a weapon in a place where you can't carry one."

"Well naturally, but doesn't conjuration also let you summon creatures to fight alongside you?"

"Yes and I'm very skilled at it, but it takes a lot more power than a sword or a bow."

"So to keep that option open, you'll want to use the arenas physical weapons as much as possible," Owyn suggested.

I took one more look around at the guards and turned back to the arena bloodworks with Owyn fast on my heals. "When's the first fight?"

"They start at noon, spaced roughly an hour apart. You have until then to prepare." I acknowledged this quietly, deep in my own thoughts. "Hey Han-lu, how long do you really think you'll last, huh?"

"At least until I know the truth."