Hello, brave readers! Today, everything comes together, and war comes to Aquilus! As always, constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy...
The Oath Of Mars, Part 10: Convergence
The word was spread. The light of hope once again shined into the pits of Aquilus.
In the peace and quiet following, in the early hours of the morning, the first she's had since Gradivus knocked her block off back north of the mountains, she had even managed to find some of Marius' men down here with her. She had begun to dread for them, but apparently, most of Marius' contingent had been sent away to stock the dungeons of Gradivus' more far-flung holdings. It made sense, of course, for him to split a warband such as theirs up to keep them from coordinating an escape, but it sure made her job harder. She had hoped to escape with the survivors of Aquilus back through this 'Mars' Passage', hopefully looting enough torches from the fortress' stores to light their way back, but now she had to figure out a way to retrieve the rest of the far-flung company, if there even was one.
So there she sat, thinking. Not just on that, but another thing, too.
She hadn't seen Asteria. Not since the fight. Not even once, not even in passing.
She figured she was rattled by the hostia, but shouldn't she be fine, now? She had been looking everywhere for her, and with how this place was built, Asteria had to have been avoiding her, or she'd have found the rude Gladiatrix already. What was it? Was she cross with her for putting the two of them in the ring? The Peacekeeper had thought she'd welcome a chance at that one-eyed, grandstanding prick.
Shaking her head, she sighs. Whatever her reason, she'd come around. She had too. And it wasn't exactly like she could avoid her for much longer, with their 'fight' coming up. They were doing this.
That is, if Alexander did his part. If he didn't, then one of them would be coming back to a very cross band of gladiators.
Alexander hadn't slept a wink, but he didn't feel tired, not at all. Adrenaline surged, keeping him on his feet. The time was near. He had met with a group of soldiers, cursing their fortune at having escort duty. They had been charged with taking Elizabeth and Asteria to their places in the Colosseum, and soon their work would begin. She had asked him to strike as their fight began, so she and the champion both could escape the ring in the chaos and strike Mars Gradivus down. Risky, almost too risky, he decided, but together, Asteria and the northerner could prevail, he knew it. She deserved to deliver justice with her own hands, after all these years. Who was he to stop her?
"Hey, Centurion! You hear about that big brawl last night?"
He started, almost dropping the gladius he was sharpening. Turning to the legionnaire, his expression was a grim one.
"I was one of the men who broke it up. Why?"
"Oh. Sorry, my centurion. Didn't realize. It's just weird, you know? You don't see stuff like that every day. Pain in my ass, though. A friend of mine, Augustus, he was set to make sure the slaves went where they were s'posed to, but he got his arm broke. Now I've got to go down there, me and Caepiscus here. Sets me on edge. Not to mention..."
Rubbing his head for a moment, the soldier seems to hesitate, debating whether he should continue for a moment, but ultimately does so.
"...well, this, uh, hostia thing... seems like a waste, doesn't it? Lot of good fighters down there, plenty of betting money to be made. But Gradivus is just throwing 'em away. Not to mention it's got 'em all twitchy. We're liable to have a breakout or a riot or something! We'll be right in the middle of it! And all for some fake ritual that Gradivus' made up. I heard he was weird, but I didn't think he was some crazy cult leader."
His companion seemed to take offense at that, from the way he scowled.
"Wait a minute, don't talk about our Aspect like that. He might be a bit eccentric, sure, but Gradivus is the best man Rome's had to serve her in years. He's the only reason those Afer bastards haven't burned the capital to the ground yet! It's certainly not the Emperor's doing! Besides, what else are we gonna do with all these slaves? Set 'em free? They're barbarians! They'll be back with their friends and kill us all. It's us or them, always has been."
Cowed by his friend's unexpected response, the other shrugs his shoulders.
"Yeah, sure, I guess. Just seems risky to provoke 'em like this."
Having listened long enough, Alexander rose to his feet.
"It is, and you're right to be worried like you are. But it can't be helped. Orders are orders, after all. Now, isn't it time for you to be going? I'll come along, if you like, lock the door behind and make sure you don't get mobbed."
"Vah, really, sir? I'd certainly feel more comfortable with a Centurion watching our backs. Hear you guys can win swordfights with your fists!"
"You should see what we can do with a gladius, then. Come along, let's get going."
"Sir yes sir!" The two legionaries replied in turn, donning their helmets and heading for the door. Alexander tucks his own galea under his arm instead, the rattling of the Pugno Mortis hidden inside it muffled by a layer of thick cloth, and follows them out into the open air, eyes set on the amphitheater beyond.
Some hours ago, four black figures approached from the east, cloaked in burning light. The walls were empty of sentries, as far removed from the barbarian raids of the southlands as Aquilus was, and any patrols at the base of the wall would not see them until they were close enough to strike.
"Oi, we probably look pretty cool right now, don' we? Black silhouettes, side by side, sun at our backs!"
"Ser Garth, is now really the time?"
"Right-o."
The three knights and their Imperial companion approached, hidden in the sunrise from any sentries as they approached the high wall of Aquilus. In structure, it was a classical Roman castrum, if a massive one, with a rectangular wall, long on the east and west and shorter north and south. Within, bordering the insides of the walls, sat the barracks for the two legions that garrisoned it, the quarters for the non-combatant slaves, and numerous auxiliary buildings to house the visiting centuries and noblemen, alongside storehouses and armories to provision and arm them. It was, in all ways, a typical fortress of the Empire, save one difference, at its very heart.
In the place of a Principia, or the headquarters from which the commander would manage his garrison, was the infamous Colosseum of Aquilus, almost the size of a small fort by itself. It was from a great tower at the southern tip of the ovular arena that Gradivus concocted his traitorous schemes. And at the base of that, they'd find the weapons taken from them. There was little hope of them going that far undiscovered.
But perhaps, Quirinus thought to herself, Marius' kidnapped companion could give them the opening they needed.
"This is some fortress, Quirinus," Marius says, eyes cautiously scanning the weathered stone, "And you say almost a thousand men dwell within it. Why?"
"This fortress was a derelict before he claimed it, a remnant of our first days in our new home. It protected what little territory we had from our southerly foes. But now?"
Quirinus' eyes narrow.
"This is the northernmost fortress of the Empire, the furthest from our enemies. The only purpose Aquilus serves is to host his twisted rituals, to keep his slaves from escaping their fates. And, should his first traitorous stab at the Emperor fail, it would become his citadel in the coming war."
As they reached the base of the wall, Marius saw not one main gate or portcullis as with an Ashfeldian castle, but two smaller, stout doorways, thankfully unguarded, but barred.
"You said the north gate was open to us?"
"As I said, this fortress was abandoned before Gradivus began rebuilding it, and even then, armies never approach from the north, so the gates are in ruin. Assuming we can get them open, the way should be unguarded. But that will come at noon, and only if this revolt you speak of occurs."
Leaning up against the rough stone wall, Marius nods.
"As much as it pains me to say it, you are right. If my trust in Elizabeth is misplaced, then that will be that. I won't throw our lives away for nothing. Anna, Garth, and myself will accompany you to your capital, as you asked of us."
"Good. But if you trust her enough to suggest a plan as insane as this could actually succeed, then you are either a fool, or your faith is well founded. And the latter seems more likely with the title you bear, Lord-Commander."
"I's a little bit a' both, actually!"
"Garth."
"Right, right. Sorry. Straight talk, though? ...Well, you ain't never seen anything like her. Never met a bint with more brain in her brain. If we've got a shot at this, it'll be her givin' it too us."
"Who is this woman, that you speak so highly of her? She sounds like a good friend of you all."
Marius seems to take a small amount of offense at that, harrumphing decisively and looking away. Anna looks on, despairingly, for a moment, before answering in his stead.
"She's a Peacekeeper, a kind of infiltrator or scout among our people. And a veteran of her order, at that. Our claims of her skill are founded on a plethora of evidence, rest assured. And she was also a sort of mentor to me and Ser Marius, long ago. But now...?"
She rubs the back of her head, gaze shifting to the ground.
"Well, she and the Lord-Commander have had a bit of a falling out. As you can plainly see."
"Ah."
Quirinus steps further into the shadow of the ancient doorway, shifting uncomfortably at what was so clearly unsaid.
"...Do I dare to ask why?"
"It's... a long story, ma'am."
Marius looks back at that, the single blue eye visible through the tear in his visor hard.
"No. It is a short one. I fought to save her life, and the life of my soldiers, but she thought it better to let us die for her ideals. She is a fool, and she is a traitor. Fortunately for us, she is also quite good at squirming her way out of a corner."
Left, unsurprisingly, with more questions than she started with, she sighs, and closes her eyes, formulating a response. Ignoring the clearly biased Lord-Commander, she looks to the Warden once more.
"You fight? Are you at war?"
Opening her mouth to reply, she finds nothing coming to her tongue. She turns away, back towards the sunset, silent. Even the Conqueror seemed down, Crossing his arms and looking down to his feet as he leaned against the wall. Obviously, this was a sore subject for them. She was just about to retract her question, but Anna beats her to the punch.
"...Yes. We have been for some time. There are three nations among our lands. We are the Legions, an alliance of territories that extend from the great mountain you call Olympus far to the north, to a shattered, volcanic land called Ashfeld. To the north of Ashfeld is a place called Valkenheim, a territory of hardship and unending cold, ruled by the Warborn, a great clan of nomadic warriors. And to the east lies the Myre, an abyssal swamp, where the Chosen of the Dawn Empire hold court. Once, we were close to peace, but a rebel from our homeland plotted to cast us against one another. To throw our lands into lawless chaos, in her twisted ambition to create a better world. For a time, it seemed like she would fail. She did not."
"And... what of Elizabeth? How did this war drive you apart?"
"Before the war, the Legions and the Dawn Empire fought as one, on two occasions, and both times, we almost laid the traitor of our lands low. Almost slew the war which consumes us now in the womb. The first, she escaped, but Elizabeth and the rest of us... well, we came to an understanding with our allies in the Myre, and parted as friends. But the second? We slew the traitor and destroyed her army, but she tricked us. The Warborn of Valkenheim descended on our joined armies, and in the chaos, we turned on each other. When the Chosen forces betrayed our company, Marius was willing to put aside his memories of our alliance, and order a counterattack. Elizabeth... was less so. She believes to this day that we could have stopped the war we now fight, and she refuses to take part in it. Before this expedition, she had been retired from field duty. In her eyes, she was refusing to shed senseless blood. In Marius', she was killing her own people via inaction."
Quirinus looks down.
"I... see."
And with that, silence. It was a hard topic for them, and it was clear to see; they looked away from one another, Marius' hands gripping his weapon tightly, Anna balling hers into fists, and the Conqueror looking grimly out at the sun, arms crossed in front of him. When, at last, the silence was broken, it was courtesy of the lawbringer, as a hard growl echoed out from the depths of his suit.
"We head for the northern gate. We can do nothing here."
Without looking back to those he addressed, he set off down the base of the wall.
"...I won't pretend to know the struggles you've gone through, but you have my condolences, all the same. That said, I can't help but wonder..."
Quirinus steps out into the light once more, eyes on the Lord-Commander's back.
"To him, it was a necessity. To her, a tragedy. What was it to you two? Caught between the two of them, these people you clearly respect so much, have you lost your own sense of direction?"
The two soldiers look troubled, but as Anna attempts a reply, Quirinus shakes her head.
"You need not answer me. Or, rather, you need not try and answer me. Just think on it, should we survive this madness you call a plan. It may bring you peace, or at least... clarity."
With that, she sets off after the Lord-Commander, and, exchanging unsure looks with one another, the Warden and the Conqueror followed behind.
"In you go, brothers. I'm locking it behind you, but I'll open it right back up when you return. And remember, I'll be just outside if you need help."
"Aye, my centurion. Again, thank you for this."
"And again, you're welcome. And when you see your friend Augustus again, tell him the next time he gets in a brawl he'll be doing this himself, broken arm or no!"
With a laugh, the two legionnaires entered the pits, the sturdy door shutting decisively behind them. Closing the shutter for the viewing slit and locking the door, Alexander promptly walks away. He couldn't shake the lingering feeling of guilt for tricking them, but it was better than running into them down the line. Hopefully, they'll just tuck themselves away into a corner away from the prisoners until he comes back for them.
This was it. Do or die. The armory wasn't far from here. All he had to do now was load up on weapons, leave Elizabeth's 'gift' behind, and set the slaves loose. With how close the armory was to the pits, it would only take a few min-
A man in a black robe pressed into him as he crossed a T-section in the hallway, sending him staggering back into the edge of a window, one of many spanning the Colosseum's outer walls. Feeling cold metal pressed to his throat, he leaned back on instinct, away from what could only be a blade and out into the warm morning air of Aquilus. Swinging one desperate fist, his caestus met metal, and his shadowy assailant staggered back, a hand going to the dented iron mask on his face.
Hissing in pain, that same hand shot back down to his hip, and a falcatta came to join the Salii's pugio as two more approached to either side.
"You've been keeping secrets, Centurion! And Mars Gradivus ill appreciates being uninformed. Time to die, traitor."
"Shit!"
The lead man lunges again, but Alexander swats away the oncoming blade with his own hastily drawn gladius and pushes his right leg forward, driving his knee into the Salii's gut. Then, roughly grabbing the cutthroat's black hood, he hurls him into his fellow on the left and slams his sword's pommel into the solar plexus of the one on his right.
Leather scales serving poorly to stop the blunt force, the Salii keels over, gasping, and Alexander grabs him by the shoulder, hauling him around like a sack of flour until he was held between the Centurion and his would-be murderers. Placing his shortsword to the Salii's throat, he pants, calming down and confronting the duo in front of him and his hostage.
"Stay back, you bastards! I won't hesitate to kill him!"
The Salii on the left steps forward. His mask was bronze, placing him as an elite among Ultor's agents, and the superior of the two who accompanied him. He speaks, voice quiet and calm, like a frozen corpse.
"I am sure you won't."
Without hesitation, he throws the dagger in his off hand. It strikes home, impacting soundly, right to the hilt, into the heart of the man Alexander was hiding behind.
"Nor will I. Mars has willed your death. There is nothing more to say."
Drawing another dagger from his cloak, the elite Salii strides forward with twin blades ready, his companion, after a brief moment of shock, following in suit. Dropping the corpse in his arms, Alexander grits his teeth and readies himself for battle.
"Through here, Lady Asteria."
"You honestly think I don't know?"
The guard flinches back at the hissed words, putting a hand to his sword. Asteria smiles vindictively.
"I've killed a thousand people in my life. What in Pluton's name would you do with that sword, huh? Get gutted and bleed out on the ground, squealing like an animal?"
Now on the defensive, the guard moves closer to his partner, barking out an order in his most intimidating voice... Which was, in the face of the Arena's Champion, not very intimidating.
"G-go through the damned gates, prisoner! I'll have you know that there's one of Mars Gradivus' personal honor guard on the other side of that door-"
She was already walking away, out into the short tunnel between the portcullis and the arena proper where the gladiators wait for the match to begin. Elizabeth, already in the waiting area, whistles as Asteria strides past her, shoulders squared.
"My! Feisty today, aren't we? He'll have to change his thoroughly un-roman britches!"
Coming closer, Elizabeth moves to put a hand on the gladiatrix's unwounded shoulder, the other still bearing the stitches from the lions. Apparently, the attention was unwanted, as Asteria quickly pulled away, face under her helmet twisted into a rictus of anger for just a moment.
"GET-"
She stops short, body stiff. Elizabeth backs away quickly, a grimace on her face, but before she can respond, the champion relaxes just slightly, looking down.
"Lets... Lets just get this over with."
"Okay! Okay. Good grief..."
Elizabeth leans back against the far wall, eyeing her twitchy companion cautiously.
"Look, I... I'm sorry for not telling you about the plan first, but that Centurion who's decided to help us, that was a one-time opportunity, I couldn't pass it up. We had to act today."
Asteria didn't move at all, a statue.
"...You've been here a long time, I know that much. And I know nothing will ever change what's happened to you within these walls. What you've had to do, what you've had to become. But... this is a shot at a new life. Don't you-"
Asteria, silent but growing tenser as the older woman spoke, exploded.
"DON'T I WHAT?! DON'T I WANT OUT OF HERE?! DON'T I WANT TO LIVE LIKE A HUMAN BEING INSTEAD OF A FUCKING ANIMAL?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"
Stepping forward, Elizabeth shouts back, finally having enough of her constant hostility.
"Well what IS it then?! HUH?! What the hell has you screaming like some wild-eyed lunat-"
Asteria advances in turn, meeting her halfway in the middle of the tunnel, faces mere inches from one another.
"What the fuck do you think this is?! 'Shot at a new fucking life'! It's god damn suicide, is what it is! I haven't fought as long as I have to survive for some BITCH who thinks she's so much fucking smarter than every last dumb bastard who thought they could fight their way out of here before her to FUCK IT ALL UP!"
"Oh! Oh yes, I see, how foolish of me! You've decided it's impossible to break out! Decided we can't do it!"
"I KNOW YOU CAN'T FUCKING DO IT!"
"WELL YOU'RE WRONG! AND WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?! WHAT'S YOUR MASTER PLAN?!"
Stepping back, Asteria's fire turns to ice.
"...I'm going to do what I've always done. Survive."
Elizabeth looked confused for a moment, before her eyes widened in grim realization.
"You-!"
Through the old stone, a horn sounds.
"Fight's starting. Let's finish this."
Finish this.
Finish this.
Asteria was right. The fight really was starting, Elizabeth finally understood. She wasn't even going to try to escape from this blasted pit. She had every intention of killing her in there, finishing this insane 'ritual' and going back to the life she's always led.
"...Asteria."
The six-time champion, six-time sole survivor of the Coliseum of Aquilus, didn't turn back. But Elizabeth knew that she could hear her.
"I'm not letting this happen. No one's dying in here. Not you. Not me."
In spite of everything, the peacekeeper smiles, voice tinged with just the slightest air of whimsy.
"Hope you're ready to see the real world."
Alexander slams a boot into the bronze-masked Salii, at once pushing the elder assassin back and unbalancing himself and the novice, arms wrapped around Alexander's own to keep him from defending himself. Pushing against the stone floor to make the most of the backward momentum, he jumps as hard as he can, and the smaller man restraining him was sent onto his back, with the Centurion's own armor-enhanced weight coming down on top of him shortly after. Breaking free of the now loosened hold, Alexander struggles to get up and face the other attacker, but the bronze mask beats him to it.
Leaping onto his chest, the Salii pins Alexander's arms down with his knees. He attempts to kick his legs, throw his weight around to struggle out an arm, but the second Salii throws himself hastily down onto his legs, leaving him totally immobile.
"Gradivus had faith in you. Think of that on your ride across the Styx, betrayer."
Raising his dagger, the elder Salii prepares for the kill. But something unexpected gives him pause. A shouting voice, just behind him
"You fuckers are honestly going around calling people 'betrayers'?"
Surprised, the Salii attempts to turn, but before he can do so-
-A pilum hammers through his chest. Grasping at the long iron point wordlessly for a moment that seemed like hours to his would-be target, he collapses atop Alexander, lifeless. Hauling the dead man off of him in mute shock, the Centurion barely registers that his legs were no longer being held. The second Salii was instead taking off down the hall as fast as his legs could carry him, screaming bloody murder.
"Ah shit! Look, we gotta go!"
"Wh-wh-who are you?! You killed him!"
The woman above him looks down incredulously.
"Wh-what? Are you kidding me?! He just killed a guy in cold blood, and was gonna kill you too!"
"I..."
He swallows his trepidation. There was no hiding it now.
"...I am a traitor to the empire! And he was a loyal soldier of the Empire, doing what was ordered of him!"
Delilah was aghast. But not for the reason Alexander was expecting.
"You... you are a fucking idiot, you know that?! Putting aside the fact that 'the Empire' probably doesn't want its 'loyal soldiers' running around hammering daggers into their comrades with all the ado of putting out a candle, these back-stabbing little sneakers aren't that!"
Sitting up, he looks around warily, still in disbelief at the scene around him.
"Are...aren't what?"
"Aren't loyal soldiers. These guys are working for Mars Gradivus, your boss, who just so happens to be planning to take whatever soldiers are willing to follow him and storm the Capital. Congratulations, Alexander, you're a double agent. And you didn't even know it!"
Confused, Alexander stands up slowly, staring down the praetorian.
"...Who are you, then? What do you want with me?"
"The names Delilah. I'm a legionnaire under Aspect Mars Quirinus, and she, me, and some others I'm not gonna tell you about just yet think you can help us."
"Help you... with what?"
Placing her hands on the Centurions shoulders, she smiles.
"With giving every last wretch Gradivus has stuffed down in those cells a bit more sunlight than their used to. And maybe kicking him around a bit in the process. Interested?"
Mouth agape, he could only nod at first.
"O-Of course! You mean to tell me that Mars Quirinus herself wants the slaves in this colosseum freed?!"
"That's right. Something about unlawful seizure, a bit above my paygrade. But I trust her when she says Gradivus needs to be stopped. Being here always made me sick to my stomach anyway."
She looked as if she was about to go on, but the distant sound of running stopped her.
"Ah, damn it. Look, you can give me your life story later, but right now, it's about time for us to get wherever you were trying to go. I assume you've got a gameplan?"
"Not mine, but yes."
"Wait, not yours? Elizabeth?!"
"...H-how did you-?"
"Vah, he was right! We're really doing this! Let's fill each other in on the way, yeah?!"
Without another word, she takes off down the hall, with Alexander close behind.
"Are you sure, my aspect? We could always-"
"Worry not, my son. This is how the fates bid it. I am intrigued to see what comes next."
"Sir?"
The soldier looks confused, naturally. Only he could know what was meant by that. Only he knew that the change in this first match, the change that pit Asteria and Elizabeth together, was not the work of a clerical error, but intentional sabotage, by one of his own Centurions, at that.
"Get thee gone, my son, and... enjoy the show."
"Um... Yes. Sir."
As the soldier awkwardly marches from his private booth, Mars Gradivus leans forward, elbows on the balustrade, and a smile on his face.
"...What are you planning, O noble lion?"
"My sons! My daughters! My loyal fellows of Rome! Today, we gather, and look with awe upon our champions! Today, the greatest warriors of our united lands gather to prove their strength to Mars, and earn a place at his side! And today, of all days, shall truly be glorious! Surely all in attendance yesterday remember the remarkable performance of our very favorite champion and her foreign companion! Perhaps some of you despaired, even through the awe and glory of that blessed spectacle, that such skill would not clash, that forever you would wonder as to who was the greater of our two victors? Well... DESPAIR NO MORE! Today, our holy tribute to blessed Mars will continue, in magnanimous fashion! Behold!"
The two warriors wordlessly emerge from the shadows, paces between them widening as they took their place at opposite ends of the arena.
"I know what some may think! That our champion is wounded! That surely I would at least allow so prestigious a fighter as our Asteria a fair shot! Well, I must confess something to you, my sons and daughters; It was not I that decided our match today."
So, he realized that the ledger had been tampered with. But why allow it?
"In the doddering foolishness of my old age, I thought to give you, my precious audience, an imperfect spectacle, an unassuming show, a -dare I say- ...bore! But I was taken aside last evening and informed of my folly. I was put in my place, shown the proper way, and by none other... than our very own champion! Ever the iron woman, she shrugs off her wounds and charges into the fray once more! Hah, my loyal soldiers, you should pray to be so ferocious as she!"
Elizabeth looks up to the stands. Not only did he notice, but he was also covering for them. What was going on behind that scarred visage of his?
"But, I am sure you tire of me. How could you not, with the makings of so wonderful a duel before your very eyes? Who is mightier, we all wonder?! Shall Asteria stand tall, as always?! Or will our newcomer inherit her legend?! LET! US! SEE!"
Rising from his seat in a dramatic flourish, he throws one hand to the sky and roars.
"BEEEEEEEGIN!"
Asteria levels her trident, taking the polearm in two hands as she stalks forward, eyes on the Peacekeepers own. Elizabeth readies her blades and stands her ground, smiling under her hood.
"Do you think that stupid look on your face means anything?"
"Of course I don't. But all the same, I'm getting you out of here, whether you like it or not! So, in the meantime-"
The gladiatrix dashes forward, driving her polearm forward with the same quiet ferocity as her last fight.
"-Show me what you've got!"
Smoothy darting to the left, the tines catch nothing but air, but the pit fighter wasn't done yet. Digging one sandal into the earth, Asteria pivots back around to face Elizabeth and crouches low, buckler catching the sand at her feet like the blade of a shovel as she reaches one hand down. The agile peacekeeper pirouettes as her opponent hurls the fistful of sand, the blinding spray impacting the back of her head instead of her eyes, and as Asteria strikes at her now exposed back, trident in one hand, she finishes the spin and parries with her sword.
Not missing a beat, Asteria brings back her buckler arm and throws a haymaker, the metal plate covering her fist aimed for Elizabeth's exposed face. Bringing her own offhand weapon to bear, the peacekeeper lays the flat of her dagger across her wrist in reverse grip and thrusts her arm forward to meet Asteria's own, deflecting the edge of the metal buckler with the dagger blade and sending the blow to the side- and all the weight behind it into her chest, as the momentum behind the whiffed attack sent Asteria crashing into her.
Sent off her feet with the larger woman atop her, Elizabeth tucks her legs to her chest, forcing her knees between her own body and Asteria's. Then, back coming down on the sand, she pushes with all her might, redirecting Asteria's tackle and sending her flying behind the peacekeeper. Tucking into a roll, she lets her momentum carry her back to a standing position, rising as quickly as she fell. Turning around to face her traitorous companion, she finds to her surprise that the champion was on her feet just as quickly.
"Goodness, you're better than I was expecting. I think those skills of yours are enough to work on a real battlefield!"
Gritting her teeth, Asteria closes in once more, a thunderous shout rising from the murky depths of her helmet.
"This IS a real battlefield!"
"This is the plaything of a lunatic with a messiah complex! This is a monument to a single powerful man's endless ego, built on the bones of innocent men and consecrated with the tears of broken families!"
Dodging a stab with the trident, Elizabeth crosses her sword and dagger as Asteria follows up with a two-handed slash. Twin blades locked with the black shaft of the five-pronged spear, Elizabeth leans forward into Asteria's snarling face and grins knowingly.
"So yes, a real battlefield is exactly what it is. But unlike your average war, we can end it! Right here, right now!"
Leaning to the left to dodge an ironclad headbutt, Elizabeth drops her dagger and steps around to Asteria's side, the sudden lack of an obstacle in front of her throwing the gladiatrix's balance off. Placing her now free hand on the flat of her back and sticking a leg out in front of the champion's own, Elizabeth pushes hard, sending Asteria tumbling into the sand. Leaning into the fall and rolling back to her feet once more, Asteria quickly turns to face her opponent.
"All we need to do..."
Again declining to press her advantage and counterattack, the Peacekeeper instead looks up to the stands and kicks the dagger at her feet back up into her waiting palm, leveling it at the Aspect overseeing them.
"...IS KILL THAT BASTARD!"
The loyal soldiers and noblemen, the most bloodthirsty of the whole lot, only laugh at first. Yet another foolish slave, spouting threats and hexes at anyone in earshot. But the laughter quickly dies down as Mars Gradivus, the man so rudely addressed, rises to his feet, placing his hands on the balustrade as he answers the challenge issued forth by the foreign warrior.
"...Indeed! All you need to do is still my heart! For as my heart is the core of my being, so am I the core of the Colosseum! The stones of it are mine, the men of it are mine, the beasts of it are mine! I am the sole master of this lauded crucible! But tell me, O fearsome slayer! How would you meet this noble task?! Show me your ingenious scheme! Show me the mechanism of my assassination!"
The crueler members of the crowd, taking the question as mockery from their lord, again begin to rain down insults and derisive laughter upon the northern barbarian. A decision that proved most unwise, as the Aspect swung one meteoric fist down upon the balustrade, crushing a fist-sized chunk of marble into gravel with a sound that echoed through the arena like a thunderclap, hushing the shocked audience instantly.
"SILENCE! Do you not see?! The gods favor these most graceful combatants! Mars lives amongst their flesh, and Minerva amongst their minds! Apollo in their eyes, and Vulcan in the hammer of their heart! These are champions! Not brutes that spit and curse, raging against their betters in vain! If even the spark of hope lives within them, then there is a reason more than denial! So tell me, Elizabeth! Why do you rail against despair? WHY DO YOU FIGHT ON?"
Sparing Asteria, warily pausing her assault as the two spoke, a brief glance, Elizabeth shouts up her answer.
"I believe you're about to find out!"
"Wait a minute, she gave you a bomb?"
"What?! This is a bomb?!"
Finished bundling his cloak around a sizable heap of swords and spears, he was just about to plant the grenade as he was asked.
"It's a ball of iron smaller than my fist, how can it be explosive?! Look, I-I didn't know!"
"Yeah, I can see that! I mean, it's a good plan, okay? We arm the slaves with what we can carry and ruin any weapons we have to leave behind. the off-duty guards will be left unarmed. Just... be careful, all right?!"
Setting it down on the shelf of mass-produced swords gingerly, as if an errant breath could set it smoking, he holds the flint striker steady on the tip of the fuse. Delilah was outside on watch... though presently she was looking inside, at the hand grenade in Alexanders grip, rather than the thankfully empty halls.
"Hey, we don't have a lot of time! Just light the cord and get out of there, quick!"
"Quit yelling, this is stressful enough!"
"You qui- Ju-just... Just. Do it. Okay?"
"...Okay..."
Offering a prayer to Mars -and Vulcan, god of flame and volcanos, along with Poseidon and Jupiter for earthquakes and storms, and rounding it off with Pluton for good measure- he strikes the flint, sending a spray of sparks across the fuse. He all but hurls himself back, the only thing stopping him from barreling out the doorway being a harsh whisper from his compatriot.
"It didn't go, idiot, do it again! And you forgot the weapons on the floor! That was Mars telling you to pay more attention!"
Flustered now, he quickly strikes it again, again producing no results. Once, twice, and three times more, the sparks strike true to no avail until-
-the fourth.
"Shit! Get the-"
"I'VE GOT THE ACURSED SWORDS! GO GO GO!"
Bolting down the hall, they sprint away as the seconds tick down. And then, with an impressive roar, the grenade detonates. Though perhaps a less cataclysmic event than the two technologically backward Imperials were expecting, the armory was, nonetheless, transformed into a whirling maelstrom of smoke, flame and shattered sword blades. And Elizabeth had exactly what she was waiting for, as a tremor and the unmistakable sound of an explosion shot up, up, and up...
...To the confusion and great worry of the audience sitting above. Murmurs of dismay crawled like a flame along the rows and rows of spectators, and the Peacekeeper simply threw her arms wide, like a maestro before a standing ovation.
"Your move, O most great aspect! Only, you should make it quickly. Unlike our little back-and-forth up in the tower, I'm not waiting my turn."
Leaning out over the railing, Mars Gradivus smiles. Glorious.
"Indeed! Now... the real game begins!"
The archers stationed on the innermost stands, regaining their wits, nock their arrows, aiming for the two gladiators they can only assume had some hand in the mysterious rumbling from below. Face twisting in frustration, Asteria quickly scans the area, looking for some way to stop them from loosing their bows. Maybe, if she struck Elizabeth down right now, they'd realize she had no intention of joining this breakout. Taking her trident in two hands, she prepares to lunge at her opponent once more...
But a familiar shout and a raised hand stopped her dead in her tracks. Looking up, she could see the words were not meant for her, but the bowmen.
"HOLD! Hold, my sons! You are needed within our walls, to meet this unknown threat! Go now! Without delay! And you! My noble audience...!"
The civilian's and the noble's confusion and unease were beginning to turn into honest fear, just as planned. And the words Mars Gradivus spoke unto them were the second, more metaphorical fuse that was lit that day, setting off this powder keg of panic.
"...The Coliseum of Aquilus is under attack! Flee! Now!"
To Elizabeth's perverse delight, the great crowds did so, and with vigor. The sole reason no one fell into the pit to join the two gladiators was that the first half-dozen rings of seating were reserved for noblemen and sentries, and was thus only very sparsely seated, as the throngs higher up fought and struggled for the myriad entrances out into the halls of Aquilus and, eventually, safety. Taking a step back, Gradivus himself prepares to disappear into the arena fortress's halls, but then-
"Why?"
Turning around, Gradivus smiles wider at a very familiar voice. One that hadn't addressed him directly in a long, long time. For years, there was only cold silence as her soul slowly rotted away. But now... The fire of the Stag burned through her once more. Laughing, he answers her call.
"...Asteria. O noble lion, what brings such consternation upon you?"
"All these years... all these years I've spent in this gods-forsaken pit! But now...! You know I can get out of here if I want too, that I can climb these walls! So why let me?! Why send those archers away?! My whole life you've locked me away down here... so why let me go, you godless bastard?!"
Still smiling, he lingers for a moment, before turning away. Calling over his shoulder one last time, he disappears from his private booth and into the fortress below with these words:
"If that's what you would like to know... then find me! Eye-to-eye, one warrior to another! Freedom, Asteria! Therein lies your answer!"
Eyes boring into the empty air where Mars Gradivus once stood, the silent champion's knuckles whiten around her trident and buckler.