The Arena (Complete)

Chapter 3

He looked over his handcuffs, at the hieroglyphics that marked them. Without a key he'd never get them off. He pulled on the chain some more, looking for a weakness.

"Its no use." He startled at the woman standing at his bars. Two men in uniforms stood behind her. "Im the only one with a key." She held up the item before pocketing it.

Tarik straightened.

The woman was dressed in finery. Black dress and gold jewelry. Her smile felt sinister. Reptilian.

"Who are you?" He asked.

She blinked at him.

"What is this place?" He asked instead.

"My customers have been wanting some new entertainment. Even the most vicious become boring, after awhile." She glanced back at the woman they had brought to the cell. "And you are quite handsome."

Tarik hadn't heard the one they threw in the cage get up. But now she sat, staring at her hands in confusion. She didn't look vicious.

"You'll be facing against one of the Nordic Bears. True warriors, as man or beast. Really gets the crowd going."

The men pulled out metal rods with wire at the end. Even from the distance Tarik could see the hieroglyphics.

If they thought he was going to come quietly, they were wrong. He snarled and kicked at them but he was still weak, shaking off whatever drug they had filled with him. And the markings kept him from full strength.

He had already guessed what was going to happen next. He refused to be their entertainment. But their prodding and brutality left him with no choice.

Soon he was in a cage lined up amongst others, looking out into an open arena. Blood and carcasses covered the ground. He looked up, seeing it fully enclosed with steel and bars.

The crowd, who were loud and already chearing, were protected by more bars. Higher up, above the main crowd were boxes. They were only filled with a few people, dressed in finery like the woman.

Tarik bowed his head. They had taken off his cuffs but his cell was lined with the glyphs. Until he entered the arena he wouldn't be able to change.

He shut his eyes and cried. Fear was drowning him. His guilt was crushing him. All the pressure in his chest, on his heart was because of him and his stupidity.

None of this would have happened if not for him. His sister lost her life.

Tarik snarled. He wouldn't die here. He would do what he must. He had to get back to mother and father. To ask for their forgiveness.

A horn blasted and a cell door opened. He watched as two lions pared off. At first draw of blood they were ushered back in.

So not to the death. The pairings continued on. Some resulting in fatality but most did not. The crowd cheered and threw money and food around.

Then he saw a beast of a man step out onto the sand. The crowd cheered and shouted his name.

"Ragnar! Ragnar! Ragnar!"

He roared, chest puffed out and arms extended. His hair was long and braided. Beard thick, bare chested, and only a simple garment wrapped around his waist.

Runes marked his arms and chest.

Tarik had a sinking feeling that this was the bear. He was scrawny and short compared to him. If he couldnt transform out there he would be plummeted.

His door slid open and he cautiously slipped out. The man had his back to him, cheering on the crowd.

Tarik swallowed.

Ragnar turned and bellowed at Tarik who dropped down to his knees and begged his gryphon to come forth. He felt his wings spread and his hands turn to talons.

Tarik stood and screeched. The crowd was silent but then roared all at once at the magnificent gryphon gracing the field. Feathers and coat beautiful. Talons sharp. They were excited for the battle to come.

The man pulled out his axe and they circled each other. Tarik knew how to fight, had participated in many mock battles with his father and friends.

But this was different. This was real.

He reared back, flapping his wings. Dust blew up and when the man turned to cover his eyes he dashed forward. He snapped with his beak but Ragnar caught his neck with the axe and brought him face down into the dirt.

The crowd cheered.

Ragnar laughed and placed his bare foot on Tarik's back.

The humiliation.

Tarik bucked and brought his beak around just missing the man's face.

They battled on, Tarik would get close but Ragnar would always move just out of the way. For such a big man he was fast.

Tarik beat his wings, he needed to get off the ground. But Ragnar had other ideas. He caught his back paw and brought him smashing into the ground.

He huffed, out of breath and out of ideas. The axe gleamed and he knew this was the end. Ragnar lifted the axe above his head and let it come swinging down.

But the pain didn't come.

Tarik, who had closed his eyes, slowly opened them. The axe was inches from his face. But Ragnar wasn't looking at him, he was looking up at one of the boxes.

It was the lady who had visited him at his cell. She shook her head no and he lifted the axe only to bring the blunt end down on his face.