A Prince's Prophetic Switch

Ishan (Up next is my honest fave)

Have I played the part well? Then
applaud me as I exit. ~Augustus
Caesar

Ishan had won. Every jousting game in the Olympics that was held, he had played in, and won.

"The future Emperor?" he heard men saying in the audience.

"Son of a Neptune?" he heard another ask. No, Ishan thought. I am not. Not anymore.

He walked out of the Colosseum, and found Jade quickly, despite the amphitheater being so large.

"Did I do well?" Ishan asked, oblivious to the raging crowds around him.

"Ask him," Jade said, and tapped a man in front of her on the shoulder, asking, "My friend asks if he did well."

"Well?" the man asked drunkenly. "You were amazing!" he yelled, spilling his beer as he raised it. His wife, or who Ishan assumed was the man's wife, pitched in.

"I'm sorry about that, he's drunk right now." She said weakly, and Jade nodded.

"It's quite alright, part of the hype." She said, reassuringly.

I think what my husband is saying is that your friend here," the woman paused, waiting, and Ishan realized she was asking for his name.

"Ishan," he said, after a moments confusion.

"Ishan," she repeated, then continued. "should try competing in another game, the crowd, including my husband and myself, would love to see you compete more."

"Huh? Other games? What other games?" Ishan asked stupidly, looking onto the fields, where two men were close to choking each other. The first had arm around the others throat, holding him in a headlock, but the other person had the advantage, if they could pull it off. The man grabbed his arms, and once they were loose enough, slithered out of his grip.

The man, stunned for a brief second, fell backwards, slightly, but Ishan saw an opportunity. It was risky, but the man saw it too, jumping forward, pinning him down and choking him. That was the point. 10 seconds go by. Then 20. All the while, he stayed down.

Then the crowds started chanting.

"10!" they yelled.

"9!" they shouted, and, surprising Jade and even himself, Ishan did too, and kept shouting, all the way down to zero, where the two men then got up, the losing opponent walking off, while the man before stood in triumph, waiting for his next opponent.

Eleven more opponents came before that game was done for the day. Fletcher, Ishan noted his name from the cheering crowds, won seven of them, but at the eighth he was pinned, and from then on no opponent won more than two games in a row. According to Jade, up next was another game, one they called sparring.

Apparently, sparring is a game to be played with swords—no, not daggers, Ishan had asked—, where two opponents are competing to stab the other. Ishan didn't really see the point in it, no one was supposed to die, but it was worth a shot in playing. What was the worst that could happen, anyways?