A/N: In the chapter one author's note, it says this story is set in AD 60. Not so! I messed up and wanted it in AD 62.

Fabula Servae The Slave's Story

Rubellia awoke with a stiff neck, a dry mouth, and her headache gone. She didn't bother to reprimand herself for falling asleep. She didn't bother to survey her surroundings for a way to escape.

There was only one way out.

And the ethical, noble warrior wasn't going to make it.

Rubellia stretched her neck as she looked to the corner, where dirty slaves were scooping gruel into the crusty bowls from the night before and passing them out to unruly demons. She grabbed hers from the floor and headed over there, to stand behind the blue Brachen.

He turned around, smile on his face far too… nice for a demon. "You've decided to join us, Slayer?"

She let her eyes flicker to Lucius, standing far off, with a bowl decidedly more reddish than the others. "Yes."

"Davod." The Brachen held out his spiny hand.

Rubellia blinked, then took his hand. "Rubellia."

Davod perked up. "I have a cousin from Eturia…"

She sighed. "How many fights have you won?"

Davod's eager expression left. "Three. Four, if I fight tonight."

"You're confident."

"I have to be."

Rubellia nodded, then slid her bowl across the line. The slave spooned some of the mush into the bowl, and slid it back. She didn't acknowledge him, just picked it up and walked away from Davod, back to her corner.

Before she could make it, she bumped into someone… or something, rather, whose elbow was almost level with her shoulder. She looked up at the beast, hearing its snarl in the pit of her stomach as well as in her ears. It was the green skinned, tusked beast from the night before, and he looked none too happy with her.

His Latin was worse when he was angry. She could barely understand his growling. "Watch where you're going, Slayer."

"Don't know how I missed you there," she said with a sneer, looking him over.

It was the wrong thing to say. She'd known it when she'd said it. The monster stepped forward, huge, veiny hands extended. "Strength aside, you're nothing but a filthy human that I could crush with these—"

Before his fingers could so much as brush her shoulders, Davod slipped between them. He smiled, voice reassuring. "Attico, come on… Save the fights for the ring." The green demon, Attico apparently, did not look convinced. Davod continued, losing the small smile. "Remember last time one of us died fought in here…"

Attico dropped back immediately. "Don't touch me again until we're in that ring, human."

"I won't find that to be a problem." She smiled, and Attico snarled at her once more then walked off. Before Davod could do the same, she asked, "What happened last time?"

"What?"

"Last time one of you fought in here. Something die?"

Davod laughed, but his wide mouth took on a mocking look. "Something. I suppose you could say that. Nothing that you should concern yourself about, Slayer. After all, you've surely killed twenty one things before, haven't you?"

She shrugged. "Surely more than that."

Davod turned away, but craned his neck to look back at her as he walked away. "Then you should surely survive this pathetic game."

There were three fights that night. The line-ups were not announced until it was nearly time for them to start. Rubellia felt the building above her shake a little under the feet of Nero's aristocratic friends, and felt her stomach, mind, and soul burn with hatred for her cousin, for her mother who had birthed her into such a family, and her father who had handed her over to the Council of Watchers. The Watchers who had given her to Marcus.

She buried the thought.

The first fight was between two demons Rubellia had never spoken to and didn't recognize. The blue one won, and broke the albino one's back. No blood came out of the white thing's body— Rubellia noted that with a sort of disconnected fascination.

Attico and another gigantic demon fought second. The captives could watch from their prison, through the gate that led into the bottom of the ring. Rubellia wanted to act as nonchalant as Lucius was acting, with his bored look and the dirty straw colored hair that fell in his face. But instead, she found herself pressed up next to Davod at the gate, watching Attico duck a blow that would surely have taken off his head, for the demon he was fighting had claws instead of hands.

But Attico came around and gained the upper hand when he broke off half of the creature's right claw. It howled in protest, a sound that hurt Rubellia's ears, and almost crumpled to the ground. Right before its legs went out, it slammed a knee into Attico's stomach. It still fell over, but Attico had stumbled backward.

Most of the crowd was cheering for Attico; he was clearly the better fighter and clearly the more humanoid of the two demons. Romans, of course, loved the exotic, but they loved even more to watch the exotic die, watch the foreign blood spill across the sand, and study what color it was. Rubellia hated them all more than she hated Attico with his tusks and green skin. It was a revelation like no other and she snorted under her breath. Davod glared at her, obviously thinking she was laughing at the creature's pain.

Attico moved forward before the crab-demon could rise all the way up. He held in his hand the severed part of the claw. He slammed it into the crab-creature's face, then down into it's heart. The howl sounded again, louder, and the crowd all shrieked in mixed glee and fear. Attico tossed down the claw and spit on the ground.

Nero's voice rose above the clamor; Rubellia had to crane her neck to see him. "Eighteen wins for green-skinned friend! I've never seen anything like him!"

Nero was wearing purple. Poppaea was scantily dressed beside him, and to her horror, Rubellia realized that her belly was swelling. Pregnant. The gods above, in their infinite stupidity, had allowed Nero to breed. Her cousin, beautiful Octavia, would only last so long now. Rubellia let herself grieve for the cousin she would probably never see again, then focused again on Nero's words.

"Tonight, my wonderful friends, I have a special treat. Such magic that exists in the world has touched the realm of humans in more ways than one. Even our own can be changed, morphed into something less and more than mortal."

Davod poked her. "I think he's talking about you."

She elbowed him hard.

"The House of the Caesars itself has produced such a wonder. Herself only a guest at our last meeting, I introduce to you Julia Rubellia Plauta, great great granddaughter of our Tiberius himself and the Slayer of the Vampires!"

A hand clutched her shoulder; she was thrown forward from the shadows, through the opening gate, and into the bright ring itself. The sand skinned her knees, but she forced herself to her feet, ignored the sting. She rolled her shoulders and looked up, caught Nero's eye. He didn't look ashamed, didn't look afraid; he only smiled.

"And for her opponent, a special treat. From a hidden Greek island, imported especially for my own guests and friends… I give you a modern Polyphemus. A Cyclops."

The gate across from her was rising. Nero had not joked. Across from her was a Cyclops.