“Our tier is the lowest for good reason. Without any special talents or the ability to fight at higher levels, we are treated as chaff, and called as such by the goers of the arena and fellow gladiators.”
Kalen was taken aback.
“Chaff? Chaff like…like debris?”
“Exactly. But not without proper grounds. No other tier of gladiator in the arena has as short a life expectancy or fatality number than we. We are more expendable, poorly equipped, and unskilled than any other fighter in the arena, and for it we are treated like testing dummies. Our matches are much shorter and more numerous than the other tiers as well.”
Kalen was expecting an ‘and’ to come out of the old man’s mouth, or at least hoped all that was about to be followed up by something positive.
“Yet…?”
“Yet nothing. It is just as I described. But, if you’re smart and use everything at your disposal when you fight, you may live for longer than you would expect.”
Kalen sighed. Burying his head in his hands again. The news wasn’t what he was hoping for.
“Longer than I expect? That’s the best I can hope for? Will I still be here at your age?”
“That’s unlikely, unless you choose to be. Don’t mistake my advanced age for experience. I haven’t been here nearly as long as you might think. In fact, if you do well enough, the arena even gives you the chance to earn your freedom.”
Kalen’s head poked out of his arms. He looked at the door to his cell, wishing to be able to walk past it and see the old man’s expression.
“What?! I can earn my freedom?”
Another rocky chuckle came from the other side of the wall.
“Indeed. Don’t judge the Empire based on what you’ve seen so far. Past its worst qualities, it’s built on the foundation of a warrior society, based upon rewarding the merits of people accomplished in battle and service to the state. There are few things a natural-born Redlander loves more than the story of a gladiator rising from slavery with their own two hands.”
‘So there’s still a chance that I could gain my freedom and see Layla again. Then, with any luck, go back to Willowhearth to find mom.’
The machine started churning inside of Kalen’s head as he thought about the possibilities this new situation provided him.
Relying on the techniques of Old Marshall, perhaps it wouldn’t be impossible to escape this seemingly hopeless situation.
“Thank you…old man? I’m sorry, I realize I don’t know your name.”
With what he now knew, Kalen realized the voice on the other side of the wall really was just a benevolent old man. He felt slightly ashamed for refusing the old man’s greeting in the beginning.
“It’s alright, I’m sure you’ll do fine here, Kalen. For now though, you should get some sleep. Much of what I said will be explained to you in the morning I’m sure.”
“But don’t forget what the guards said, by the way! If you oversleep, they really will come into your cell and beat you. That won’t excuse you from your match either, so you’ll likely die if that’s the case. We can catch up later, but not if you’re dead.”
“I’ll follow your advice then. Thank you, again.”
Kalen felt as if he should bow, even though the old man couldn’t see him on the other side of the wall.
Still, after saying his peace, Kalen left the cold stone of the ground and laid across his equally luxurious stone bed. Shutting his eyes for the night.
…
“You better not be sleeping in there!”
Kalen’s eyes shot open at once. Trembling, they looked in panic at the source of the noise before realizing there was no one at the cell’s gate.
‘Ehh…What?’
Kalen rubbed his eyes.
“Alright boys, looks like we’ve got one! Let’s rub the sleep of this bastard's eyes!”
“Aye!”
Kalen’s vision adjusted to the daylight streaming in through his cell’s underground window as he realized what was going on. He walked up to the edge of his cell, looking down the corridor as some guards were filtering into another slave’s room down the way.
‘Damn, so that’s what he meant by that. Wow, they really are beating the poor guy up.’
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Kalen frowned as he watched the guards go to work on the slave. Because of how the corridor came to a curve, while he couldn’t see directly into the cells next to him, a ways down he had a pretty good view.
And boy was it ugly in that cell down there.
“Ugh!”
Kalen shook off the sight. Coming away from the bars as the guards came out of the cell and moved down the corridor.
“Hey, old man, are you awake?”
Kalen thought he would check to make sure his new neighbor was awake before the guards got too close.
Seeing the blue and purple bruised face of the man they were dragging out of the cell, he didn’t wish the same fate upon his benefactor from last night.
Yet no response came.
“Old man?”
Nothing.
Kalen started to feel nervous. Was he really asleep? After warning Kalen of the dangers of oversleeping he himself would fall victim to them? What kind of cruel irony was that.
Kalen sucked in a breath, prepared for an awful sight as he saw the guard make his way up the corridor to the old man’s cell.
But…it didn’t happen.
Without sparing so much as a glance, the guard completely passed the cell and came up right to Kalen’s.
“Time for newbie introduction. You ready?”
The guard gave a curt look at Kalen’s shocked face. Seemingly more annoyed that the boy happened to be awake than anything else.
“Uhm, yeah. Let’s go.”
Tsk
The guard clicked his tongue while unlocking the gate.
“Wasn’t an invitation, chaff, now come on.”
The guard pulled Kalen out of his cell, who took the opportunity to look to his left at the old man’s cell, since they were walking that way.
Yet it was empty.
‘What? Has he already left?’
There wasn’t a single soul to be seen inside. Nor the evidence that it was ever occupied.
It wasn’t that the arena cells were stocked with an abundance of commodities mind you, but the cell seemed even more barren that Kalen’s. He was shocked.
‘It’s almost like they transferred him, or something.’
…
“Though that may seem very intimidating to everyone here, in reality, all of you are at this tier.”
Still below the city’s arena, within the myriad rooms and narrow tunnels that laid there, a room of fresh gladiators was being given an introduction.
A woman dressed in a bureaucrat's uniform stood at the front of the crowd within the wide room as she pointed at a board.
On it were three rows flowing sideways, marked with their respective numbers.
She was, of course, talking about the arena’s gladiator tiers.
“At this tier, your greatest enemies will be each other, yet you still have much to fear, so don’t let that make you carefree!”
The woman shouted over the heads of the newbies. Even from the back of the room, Kalen still felt like his hair was being swept by her voice.
She was nearly more intimidating than the guards themselves, even if she didn’t wear a weapon.
“Yet there is just as much to fear in the arena as there is to look forward to! As part of the appreciation we have for our winning gladiators, we allow some of you to earn your freedom based on the fulfillment of a few conditions.”
The room suddenly became lively as several slaves began to speak out in unison, all clamoring to have their questions answered like their life depended on it.
It was likely that no one had come here thinking that there was a way out, so their excitement was rational.
Fighting as a gladiator in the Whitefinger arena was a one-way street for most, as a majority of the slaves here were from villages. Much of the room was even sporting fashionable new blue and purple bruises, that would lower their chances even further.
Kalen was a rare occurrence, having received training prior, as most villagers simply didn’t have the resources to learn such things, even if they were blessed with the time.
“Alright, alright! Yes, it’s very exciting, but you need to be quiet so I can continue. Quiet everyone! QUIET!”
The woman at the front of the room suddenly roared over the crowd. The outburst silenced several outcries from slaves who had suddenly outgrown their previous meekness.
“I will not have a rowdy crowd if I am to explain such things? Understood?”
Several people closest to the women nodded like scolded children. The guards next to her and at the sides of the room just looked bored.
“Alright, good. Yes, it’s possible to earn your freedom in this arena, but there are conditions. The first of these is the point system.”
“The arena is made up of many different buildings, not all fights are held in just the colosseum above our heads. Thus, different matches are offered throughout the day, and gladiators are given points based on the kinds of fights they participate in. You are all obligated to participate in a single fight today, as part of your initiation, and from then on at least once a week. Many were told that you will only eat after you win a match, but that’s only true on days you fight. Starting tomorrow, meals are delivered to your areas of occupation once a day.”
Several people exhaled sighs of relief at the news.
“The other conditions are that points you earn may be spent in one of two ways, you can either store your point away for your freedom, or for the promotion of your rank. That’s right, despite how many of you may feel now, after your first fight you will come to understand there are advantages to being gladiators of a higher rank than Chaff, so we allow you to work toward that as a goal as well.”
“The final condition being the most important. If any of you wish for your freedom, you must never come into contention with the rules of our arena! Remember that we own you now, just as the mercenary companies had before us, and it is not an obligation ours to give you freedom but a privilege of yours to be able to earn it!”
“Now go! Decide for yourselves whether you live or die today with your first battle. I’d go quickly though, as there’s limited spaces for everything! Some of the safer and more popular types have already been taken by your seniors this morning.”
With that, the expression on everyone’s faces froze, before they started to scramble over one another, beyond the room’s doors and out to the hall where they would request their first match.