The burning sensation on his wrists had hurt before, but they only felt numb to Keith now. When they separated him from Lance, they bound his wrists behind his back with metal cuffs, placing a chain on them to drag Keith where ever they wanted- like a dog on a leash.

Similar to that, it was like an endless tug a war- Keith never once bending to the will of the guards. If you didn't know what a human was you might just think Keith was some raging animal. It took at least three guards to get him down the hall and up the stairs.

He assumed they would bring him to another cell, but they brought him to a sweet smelling room instead. A few other Coeihns watched him cautiously from within- all dressed in white.

Not quite sure what this was all about, he growled at the guards when they pulled out some sort of cloth. They forced it over his head and through his arms- it was a shirt... thing? Not really a dress but not really a shirt- it was weird.

Frilly, white, and soft, they forced him to keep it on. It matched what the others were wearing. He absentmindedly wondered if this had something about being pure.

Keith still cringed, never once thinking that this society would run so highly on whether one was a virgin or not- which, he was, despite refusing to answer Lance's question.

He had asked it so suddenly what else could Keith do but bang him on the head?

He regretted it now, his thoughts consumed with the blue paladin. Was he all right? Where did they take him? He had to get out of this mess to go find him.

These thoughts were driving him crazy as he stood in this room with these strange aliens. They stared at him like some exotic creature- all in awe but too afraid to actually go and check to see if he was real.

To them, he just seemed to glow- beautiful and dangerous, the blood of a warrior pumping through his veins. His very gaze was piercing and most had to look away.

It was very quiet.

Within a few hours, they were dragging Keith to some sort of Arena. Extravagant and packed, it was roaring with Coeihns for the upcoming matches.

Not even sure what kind of fights went on within this place, Keith was dragged up many flights of steps to sit on the top balconies.

The eyes of almost every Coeihn followed him- some in awe and others- well; it was a creepy look that Keith didn't want to think too deeply on. Because this whole place was just messed up so it was useless to try and make logic out of it.

Once they reached the top of the arena, they had chained him to the floor, placing him side by side with the other so-called prizes.

Unlike them, however- it had proven quite difficult to keep Keith where they wanted him. They had to bind his ankles and keep two guards by him at all times to make sure he didn't break lose and go on a rampage. For someone with such an injury to his leg, the Coeihns were almost impressed. Some even refused to go near him out of the fear from the death glare they received.

Tugging from time to time on his restraints, Keith grimaced. He had to get out of here and get to Lance! He didn't have time for this!

But- Getting out of this with pure force alone wasn't going to help.

He had to calm down- breath. Patience yields focus.

He had to watch for an opportunity then take it. A change in the guards, a shift in the crowd, something big to catch the attention of everyone around him.

Distracting wouldn't be too hard with the Arena before him. He had watched at least three different competitors walk out- defeated in combat.

None of them were battles to the death- but it might as well have been with how injured most competitors were when they left. From watching, Keith managed to put together some general info.

There were five main Coeihns all others fought- perhaps they were the champions of some sort. If you managed to defeat one of the five you received a prize. You could then choose to end the challenge there and take whatever prize you won or try to win more by facing other champions.

It was simple- but Keith still wasn't quite sure what the pure's or whatever were here for. Tellru had said Pure's were prizes- so how come none had been chosen yet?

Perhaps you had to win against several champions. Money was one thing but he felt you should do a lot more to win over an actual person. Maybe you had to beat all five champions?

No one had managed to do that all day. Keith was not upset about that at all.

If he were given as some sort of prize, there would be hell to pay.

A bell rang across the Arena and the current match was ended. The competitor limped out of the arena, bruised and bloody and the crowd turned expectantly to the gate- eagerly awaiting the next challenger.

Keith didn't really care much for who it was- so long as they put up enough of a fight to distract the guards and give him time to figure out an escape.

All he had to do was-

His blood ran cold.

A glimpse of blue caught his eye and he sucked in a heavy breath, feeling wounded.

There was a distance between them, so it was hard to say for sure, but it had to be. He would recognize those curly brown locks and that smooth dark skin anywhere.

He was dressed in similar armor to the other champions- his Bayard at his side.

He walked in slowly, inching along the dirt till the sound of the crowd made him go still. Dried blood stained his face- the bandages no longer effective and soaking through. Oh god...

"Lance!" Keith tried to stand up. The two guards were instantly on guard, pointing their spears at him. He shot them an uncaring look, continuing to call to the blue paladin below, hoping he would hear him amongst this crowd, "Lance!"

Why was he out here?! Was he going to fight?! He was blind!

Flashes of the brutal swings and blows passed between the champion and competitor flashed in his mind and his tugged violently against his binds.

Something dark and sickly was swarming him- was it fear? He never thought he would feel fear for Lance- but within just the last two days alone this new emotion seemed to be his hearts new favorite pass time.

He had to get down there. He had to get to him.

"LANCE!"

Lance lifted his head and turned in his general direction. Unable to pinpoint exactly where Keith was because of his sight, he listened for his voice once more.

Keith gladly called to him over and over until Lance took a step closer towards the side of the arena he was at. He seemed fine- at least as fine as he could be. Besides the bandages, there weren't any obvious new injuries.

He could see Lance softly murmuring his name, turning his head to hear his voice again.

"Lance! I'm up here! I'm okay!"

Relief was washing over the blue paladin's face as he lifted a hand, hoping to kind of wave it in his direction. He was a little off, but Keith didn't care.

When the bell rang Lance tensed up, hands tightly gripping his Bayard. Lifting it, he held it out blindly. It wasn't like a sword would have done him better but what was he going to do with a gun? He might just shoot at the audience if he aimed too high.

"Hey! This isn't fair!" Keith yelled to the Coeihns next to him. He had seen the first champion- this guy didn't go easy for anything. He came at everyone with a cocky brute force. He wasn't the strongest or fastest by all means- but if he could get his hands on Lance…

The Coeihns were beginning the cheer and the first champion was stepping out. No no!

Walking into the center of the Arena he eyed Lance with a frown. Smirking, he shook his head and held his hands up. The crowd was cheering for him.

There was a sick glint in the champion's eyes- he wasn't going to go easy on Lance. He was going to beat him till he could barely breath, Keith just knew it.

There was another chime of the bell and the battle begun.

The Coeihn charged with a cruel laugh, making a b-line for the unknowing blue Paladin.

Lance froze when he got close, stumbled, and yelled when the Coeihn barreled into him like a bull. Flung to the side, he rolled across the Arena. Keith was screaming till his voice was raw.

The champion was soaking up the attention- pausing to gloat and circling the arena to get the crowd to start chanting for him. They gladly did so, clapping and stomping.

It was enough of a moment to allow Lance to shakily get to his feet; his side undoubtedly bruises from head to tow.

Touching the ground aimlessly, he lifted his Bayard up. His back was turned to the champion, not sure where he was.

Keith tried to scream a warning, but his voice was lost in the sea of cheers.

Like a sick joke, the Coeihn barreled into Lance from behind, checking him like a doll a good couple of feet into the air. Lance hit the floor hard and contorted into himself, gasping and heaving when the wind was knocked out of him.

Keith had been on the losing end of fights when he was younger- never one to sit still if he thought something wasn't right. As much as those fights had hurt or how injured he got- none of them compared to this hideous sensation churning his gut, forced to watch the Coeihn lift Lance by the back of his armor and hold him high.

Unable to catch his breath, Lance squirmed against the grip, heaving and clinging to his Bayard for everything he had. The Coeihn threw him as far as he could and Lance stopped moving.

Keith felt his wrists beginning to bleed, the metal cutting so deep that it would undoubtedly scar. He didn't care- infact; the pain wasn't even registering in his mind. All he could see, hear, and scream was Lance.

Tellru had said her people weren't cruel… she lied. This was sadistic.

Lance moved.

The crowd had started to grow quiet as he seemed to twitch, slowly rising to his knees, then to his feet. They were watching with baited breaths, all waiting eagerly for the next action- knowing it wouldn't be long for their champion to finish this sad excuse for a fight.

Keith yelled till he felt a sob break his voice.

Lance turned his head suddenly, his gaze- if he could see- would have been on Keith. Had he... heard him?

Startled, Keith felt a sense of awe when Lance smiled. He lifted his Bayard without a word and turned away- he turned to the Coeihn Champion.

After boasting to the audience, it began to run towards Lance and all fours.

Lance went still- his entire body tensing. The crowd was going nuts- ready for him to be torn to shreds at any moment due to his handicap. The next set of motions however shocked the entire crowd speechless.

The first champion had moved towards Lance like a stampeding Rhino, kicking up dirt with each step. If he rammed into him, he would undoubtedly break ever bone in the smaller life form's body- killing him instantly. His goal was to kill him...

Keith felt a cold fear grip his chest for only a second until Lance stepped to the side. With more grace than anyone had expected from him, he avoided the charge- side stepping around the champion and lifting his Bayard.

A bullet pierced the champion's side and he fell over, screaming in pain.

A pen could have dropped and Keith would have heard it from a mile away- it was that quiet amongst the crowd. No one could wrap their minds around what they had just witnessed. It was unbelievable…

Keith honestly thought the Coeihn was going to get up- but the wound must have been worse than he first thought because he still withered on the floor, screaming.

Bleeding out and undoubtedly on the verge of death unless given immediate medical attention, the match was ended.

The champion was taken away and Lance- well, he won.

Keith was cheering until his voice felt hoarse, unable to believe his eyes. How had he managed to do that?! Was his sight better or had he relied on his ears alone to figure out which direction the champion was coming from? God, it didn't matter! Lance won!

The crowd that had previously been against him were slowly raising their voices- impressed and in awe.

Tellru was running out, placing her hands on Lance's shoulder to steady him. Going to a knee, he waved her off; his entire body shaking with each breath his took.

Giving him a light pat on the back, Tellru straightened and turned to the crowd. Her voice booming over the people, she said, ("We have our victor!") The crowd's cheers were causing the stadium to shake, ("Now, in honor of our laws, our victor has decided to not take a lower prize and instead seeks something greater!")

Keith wished she spoke in English- he couldn't understand a word she was saying. The crowd seemed to grow quiet, all sharing a look of confusion. When Tellru raised Lance's hand, they were shocked when she declared, ("Our victor has taken up the passage of Coeihns and will challenge all four remaining champions to battle for the right of citizenship. As well as a claim on a pure!")

...What?

No really, what? What was she saying? Keith didn't understand. Lance seemed to be just as confused as Keith was and was tugging on Tellru's sleeve. She rolled her eyes and yelled, "For those who don't speak in Coeihn, I just said that Lance will be fighting four more champions to earn a citizenship! As well as earn back his mate-"

"He's not my mate!" Lance squeaked.

Keith couldn't breath. For multiple reasons...

He was going to ignore the mate thing for now and focus on the second part.

Lance could barely handle that last battle, and that was the weakest champion of the five. What was Lance thinking?! He won! He could leave- why the hell was he staying?!

"Lance! What the hell! Don't be an idiot!" Keith was voicing his complaints, most Coeihns staring at him with a confused shock, not sure what he was saying. Lance did, however, and gave Keith a thumbs up. "No this isn't okay!" Keith argued.

Lance gave him two thumbs up.

"Lance, you better listen to me, dammit! Don't do this!" There was a grin and Lance lifted his thumbs a little higher. "You are blind, not deaf you piece of crap! Lance!"

Waving him off, Lance turned and said something to Tellru. She nodded and left the Arena.

If the crowd wasn't pumped before, they were now at the news of Lance's challenge. It wasn't often anyone went through the right of citizenship, and all weren't actually sure how this would turn out. The Blue paladin had surprised them before after all- he might just do it again.

So they lifted their hands and gave him a cheer, clapping when the bell rang.

The second champion, oddly enough, went down within the first 30 seconds of the battle. Lance had been clever, using noise to discover the location of the champion.

Coeihns who were naturally so big often made large stomping sounds when walking and Lance was able to quickly pinpoint where they were. This champion, in particular, was a big stocky one that crunched the ground with every single step.

While Keith never verbally agreed to Lance being the 'sharpshooter' of the group, due to the fact that he didn't want to feed the guy's ego- he couldn't deny that Lance was an amazing shot. As long as he had a general idea- he could usually hit anything- unlike Keith, who could barely hit anything when given a gun.

He's tried.

So Keith honestly wasn't that shocked when Lance simply lifted his Bayard when the bell was rung and fired- winning the match in a heartbeat.

It was almost kind of funny to see how dumbfounded everyone was.

In fact, Lance even seemed a little surprised. He seemed confident that he would hit the guy but didn't think he would hit something as spot on as the Coeihns leg, making it impossible for him to carry on.

Standing there, Lance slowly began to whistle and stepped back, lifting a hand up to wave blindly to the people. He was looking around- listening.
Realizing what he was looking for, Keith gave him a cheer. Lance grinned from ear to ear.

For a moment Keith actually thought Lance might be able to pull this off.

Injured or not, Lance was starting to get use to his handicap, relying on all his other senses to get through the situation.

Lance had to run when the 3rd champion came out and the match began. This one was faster than the others and not as large. It was almost comedic, Lance running in strange patterns not sure where he was going. The Coeihn almost grabbed him in several instances but Lance's zig zag turns were too random to predict.

The Audience went kind of quiet at the sight, some snickering a little and just enjoying the show for what it was; A strange little paladin with no chance of winning some how lasting longer and longer with each passing second and was just screaming the whole time.

Keith was terrified before. Now he was just- how could he describe this feeling? It… well it was probably something along the lines of utter irritation. Was Lance taking this seriously at all?

Oh course he was but it was Lance…

When the Coeihn was finally able to corner the blue paladin, he grabbed him by the back of the neck and lifted him up. Lance turned, slamming his Bayard into the guy's face. Falling on top of each the two rolled around in a panic ball of limbs and punching.

There was the sound of firing, and the Coeihn fell over- blooding oozing from it's shoulder, the rest of it's armor seared from the intense heat of the bullet.

Lance stumbled back then, gasping for air and dabbing sweat and blood from his chin.

Keith gave him a cheer and Lance gave him a thumbs up. Two more.

Keith could hardly believe he was saying this, but two more and Lance won. Of course each champion was suppose to get tougher, despite what he had just seen. Lance would have to use every ounce of training he had.

But Keith had to wonder... how much energy did Lance have left after all of this? To him it looked like Lance was running on fumes. It was only two more champions... but could Lance even handle one more?

He hoped so...