Response to Guest Reviews:
Guest - Thank you so much, and I hope this chapter won't disapoint! (^w^)
Guess what! Today, its insight into the enigma known as Bastion Kaiser, the seventeen year old son of Victoria with a chilling smile despite his sunny disposition. In this chapter, it won't talk so much about Bastion's history, as I plan to subtly impart that in future chapters. In this case, we'll all learn a little more on "who" Bastion Kaiser really is. As well as who helped him become a gladiator.
Thank you Jay Hayden and Guest for reviewing! And now, here comes Bastion!
"Bastion! Catch!"
Dropping down from the pull-up bar, the son of Victoria braced himself. A hard weight struck his gut as he was sent skidding back. Visually unaffected however, he looked at what was thrown at him.
A literal stone discus. One of the Gladiator Arena's main training instruments.
Looking up, he saw it was thrown by a large bald dark skinned man. College aged at least, but wore a simple Roman purple t-shirt and had a young smile on his face, the former struggling to stretch across his broad frame however.
"Mister Conbolt!" Bastion shouted as he held the discus and approached the man.
They both met in the center of the Gladiator Arena. Everyone else in the arena turned and gasped as the famed Son of Mithras, nicknamed the Lion of the Gladiator Arena, clasped Bastion.
"Isn't that Aster Conbolt*?"
"Aster Conbolt? You mean the guy who set the record for most consecutive wins?"
"Praise Jupiter's name, it is him!"
"Holy shirt! Aster, sign my shirt!"
The large man and Bastion were soon surrounded by eager looking Gladiators-trainees, veterans, and trainers. Boys and girls, once practicing skills normally used to kill and maim each other in an arena centuries ago, now acted like fans at a pop concert.
"Haha, it feels good to be back here," Aster rumbled as he laughed at the Gladiators approaching him. "How is everyone?" He got a resounding scream in response, making him laugh even harder.
"All right! Everyone back to training!" That was the manager of the Gladiator Arena, Phil Lenster**, growling at everyone. He managed, refereed, and schedule the matches of his arena, the Pitt. The Pitt being the arena where many new and prospectus gladiators go to before they gain the recognition and fame to join the teams and walk through the other arenas.
The son of Limos, Roman Goddess of Famine, glared forcibly with his sunken eyes. Despite being painfully thin, the man waved his cane as he limped towards them all.
Eventually the crowd went back to their levels of professionalism. Each gladiator training once more under the symphony of metal and wood colliding.
"Look at you big man, coming in here like gods damned Hannibal of Carthage," Phil grumbled before Aster brought him into a massive bear hug. "Get off of me!"
"Awe, I missed you too Phil," Aster smiled. He completely didn't feel the cane hitting his head. Nope, not at all. Eventually he let the older man go, who let out a "stupid oaf", and turned back to a brightly smiling Bastion. "How has the fights been Bastion?"
"It's been great Mister Conbolt. I haven't seriously injured a person for at least two months." He stated happily. A sort of cold air surrounded the boy, and sent shivers down those who saw him. That strangely feral air that surrounded the younger boy kept many trainee gladiators at a distance when they saw him, even more so when his reputation came to their ears.
"I keep telling, stop calling me Mister Conbolt. It's just Aster."
"Got it Mister Conbolt," he saluted for good measure, whether in spit, or his usual "Bastion-centrism" it was up to anyone's guess.
"Well, are you finished with training for the day?" A nod from Bastion. "Well... Walk with me."
And so they did, after Bastion found a shirt that is. They walked out of the arena, and into the streets of New Rome. It was the afternoon and the young populace that inhabited New Rome were out and about.
Couples were kissing under trees, friends were messing about on the street, some were vainly attempting to study with mouthfuls of panini. Aster and Bastion walked along the many stores and cafes in silence.
"I've been... Traveling," he started, large hands passing around a metal ball around his palm size. "I've been all over really. Spent some time in New Byzantium, visited some old places. Even went to good ol' Rome for a bit."
"How was it?" Bastion pressed. Aster smiled widely.
"Beautiful. I felt so close to the source, and I realized something when I went to the coliseum in Rome." He stopped and looked at the horizon. "Gladiators were the true Roman heroes. We have taken many things from the Greeks, but the Gladiator fights solely belong to Rome. It is one of our greatest mark in history… However, now I want to make a mark in the great history Gladiator Fights."
Bastion looked up at Aster. Aster Conbolt, a modern-day celebrity in his own right. The man who got him to join the Gladiator ring as opposed to waste away in the lesser parts of New Rome.
"I've talked to some of New Rome's richest, and some have already agreed to sponsor us. Likewise, soon other influential and affluent demigods will come join our banner once our prestige grows."
"Mister Conbolt, what are you talking about?" Bastion stared at Aster, he noticed a twinkling in his eye.
"The Roman Gladiator Tournament***. Much like the war games between Camp Jupitar's cohorts, New Rome's coliseum hosts tournaments of Gladiatorial melees between the top twenty-one teams composed of ten gladiators. And only the top teen is crowned Rome's Finest****." Aster had a large broad smile. "I already assumed you haven't accepted any team offers?"
Bastion let out an anxious laughter. It was an incredibly sore subject for him. He knew that many teams wouldn't mind having himself on their teams. The fact that he was still a solo gladiator at the Pitt was mostly due to the fact that he had a temperament which made most teams not want him. In the realm of Gladiator elitism, no one wanted a mad dog who wouldn't listen to orders.
Much like the legion… Bastion would add to himself bitterly.
"No, though not for lack of trying," Bastion admitted. Aster gripped the younger boy's hand and stood in front of him.
"Then could I ask you to join my team?"
"But you don't have a team." Bastion looked at Aster with slight apprehension, afraid at where this would lead.
"I do now. Bastion, how'd you like to join the Golden Gladiuses?"
"... Eh?"
*Aster Conbolt = A twenty eight year old ex-gladiator, who retired after suffering a debilitating injury to his right leg, left ear, and a collapsed lung. Prior to that however, he had inducted Bastion into the world of the Gladiator when Bastion was fifteen years old.
** Phil Lenster = The "Pitt's Boss", in some ways. He is an old demigod, nearing forty years of age, and one of the original Roman legionnaires whom fought in the Second Giant Wars. He now heads the Gladiator arena for the youngest and trainee gladiators. Was the one who trained both Aster and Bastion in proper Gladitorial etiquette.
*** Roman Gladiator Tournament = The large tournament set up in the Coliseum... IN ROME! Once a year, the twenty one best teams in New Rome travel to Rome, Italy in order to compete in a tournament designed to test their faculties as Gladiators. Essentially, the equivilancy of the Superbow/World Cup/ Warning: Many people have been maimed, disabled, and died in the Roman Gladiator Tournament
**** Rome's Finest = The top Gladiator team from the initial twenty one. Their names are recorded in the annuls of Roman History, never to be forgotten. As of now, the team known as Chariots of Mars currently are Rome's finest.
So the entire gladiator hierarchy shall be elaborated upon the further into Bastion's story arch we go, but it will have elements of common sports-drama movies, manga, books, etc. They're going to be the underdogs, and you'll find out if they succeed or not because I also love putting twists into common ideas! So prepare yourselves everyone!
Writing this fic is fun, and I hope what I've written still brings you all enjoyment! Next up is everyone's favorite girl with a bad attitude, Adaline Darby!