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'First assaulting a priest of Akatosh, and then "actually" throwing younglings into the arena? By the Divines, that's... That's madness!' Bloodies said nothing for a little while and finished what was left in his goblet before pouring more wine. '... How young was Kero?'

Bloodies exhaled through his nostrils. 'Only a year younger than I was.' He paused as he took a sharp breath. 'He would have been 33 this year.'

'You stopped at that moment where you sat by Kero. Did they end the melee there?'

Bloodies shook his head. 'The melee didn't end for another three minutes,' he replied, 'and for those next three minutes, I dared Akatosh to kill me.'

---

'Swordplay and form will carry you in a fight,' the Face of Akavir once said to Bloodies and Fleet in one of their lessons, 'but there are three virtues that separate us from all other warriors.' Bloodies could hear only his heart pounding over the cacophony of the melee as he tried to catch his shuddering breath. 'The first of these virtues is control.' He lifted his gaze from Kero's still expression, over the battlefield, and his eyes rested on the Emperor's box in the stands. Accompanied by his personal guards, Leovic sat on an ornate cushioned throne where he covered his mouth while yawning. 'Without control, we become no better than drunken brawlers.'

As the slain gladiator's comrades came near, Bloodies picked up Kero's sword and shield. He turned to them, still breathing heavy through bared teeth. The gladiators stopped in their tracks and instead circled Bloodies warily. Without warning, he lashed out at the gladiator on his right. Bloodies bashed his opponent to the ground with the rim of his shield. He then recoiled to block on his left. Immediately after the clang, he threw his weight behind the shield. He bashed into his opponent repeatedly, roaring upon each collision. The gladiator had brought up his own shield but was thrown off by the third bash. Bloodies then lunged in. He dragged his blade across in an uppercut and turned immediately to face his other foe.

The staggered comrade was back on his feet when he saw the blade slice through his friend's neck, blood spraying in the Argonian's wake. His opponent stood with shield up and sword poised defensively. The gladiator took a step forward and readied a stab with his trident. As he closed distance, he immediately went to kick instead. But the Argonian sidestepped left and ducked low. Suddenly the gladiator's only foothold was swept from under him and he landed face first in the sand. He barely raised his head to cry out when he felt the sword go through his back-- not once, not twice, but thrice.

'The second virtue is balance.' When the gladiator's head fell back against the sand, Bloodies slowly withdrew his blade as he tried to catch his breath. Sweat drenched his face-scales and his muscles ached from how much he pushed them so suddenly. He then jumped back as a Khajiiti warrior lashed out, blades clattering against his shield. When he bounced back, Bloodies threw a straight punch with his sword arm. The Khajiit yelped as he fell to the ground. 'Without balance, even your strongest strikes can be turned against you.' Bloodies went for the killing blow before anything else. But suddenly the Khajiit sprung back up and deflected with his broadsword. As he spun around Bloodies' blow, he made a back-hand swipe with his dagger.

Bloodies snarled as he backed off with his shield back up. He ignored the stinging pain from the cut left on his sword arm shoulder, thanks to the adrenaline running through his veins. The Khajiit returned to his low stance with both blades at the ready as he circled Bloodies. The cat's tail waved cautiously behind him. Even in the shadow of a hood, Bloodies could see those feline eyes watching his moves and looking for an opening. After a few tense moments of circling each other, Bloodies lunged in low with his shield up.

As his right shin slid through sand, Bloodies braced his shield. Then he felt it: not as heavy as he imagined but there was a weight upon his shield. With a heaving groan he flipped his shield up. The Khajiit yelped again as he crashed onto his back. He crossed his weapons to parry but this time Bloodies smashed down with his shield. The Khajiit let out a mewling cry as his own blades were embedded into his chest. Bloodies subsequently put the cat-man down with an impaling strike.

'The third and most important virtue is discipline.'_As the life fled the Khajiit's eyes, Bloodies could feel his lungs and heart begging for at least pause. His throat ran dry from the kicked-up dust that was swallowed by his sharp breaths. He looked to his next opponent and saw a burly Nord with a greatsword resting on his shoulder. _'Without discipline, you lose the wisdom of knowing when to strike.' His mentor's voice now very distant in his mind, Bloodies held his shield up and bellowed angrily as he charged towards the Nordic warrior.

The Nord saw Bloodies coming and took a defensive stance. Something told Bloodies to bail, but instead he committed. Even as the Nord looked taller with the distance closed, Bloodies ran in and threw his weight behind his shield to crash against his opponent. He smashed into Nord's shoulder, but the mountain-like man stood firm. Undeterred, Bloodies went to slash at him from the side. A wavy flame-shaped sword snaked out and stopped his blow. From behind the giant northerner, a slender Dark Elf maiden stepped out. She seized Bloodies' wrist and twisted deftly. Bloodies grunted as he dropped his weapon.

He watched as the Dark Elf slipped behind him. That's when Bloodies' eyes widened. No amount of adrenaline could suppress his urge to scream as he felt burning pain run up from his hip to his left shoulder. The Nord, still bracing himself against the shield, shoved Bloodies back. The wounded Argonian held his footing for only a moment before dropping on one knee, his now-free hand clutching at his back. If it weren't for the leathers, the Dark Elf's sword would have sliced deeper. But as he looked up at the towering Nord, Bloodies admitted to himself that it didn't matter.

'Well, what are you waiting for?' Bloodies hissed through panting breaths, 'Do it!' As his voice became a shout, the Nord looked down on him with pause. 'Finish me, Akatosh!' Bloodies cried out, his eyes focused more on the midday sun that cowered behind the Nord's head and cast a shadow upon the Argonian. The Nord then lifted his greatsword off his shoulder and took it in both hands above Bloodies. He gritted his teeth as he held back the tears in his eyes. The Nord then dropped his executioner's strike upon him.

There was almost a flash of green. Fleet stepped in and batted the greatsword away mid-swing with his shield. Moving his sword arm in sync with his shield arm, he cut across the Nord's chest. As the Nord recoiled from the strike, Fleet brought his shield back and smashed the rim into the man's side. His opponent brought low, Fleet plunged his blade between the Nord's neck and shoulder. He wrestled with the Nord who, gurgling, refused to die for a few moments. When he went limp, Fleet withdrew his blade and let the body fall to the sand.

Bloodies' mouth hung agape in disbelief, and then he looked over his shoulder to see his egg-kin put their shield wall between him and the Dark Elf.

'Come on, get up and pick up your sword!' Fleet ordered as he helped Bloodies get his weapon and back onto his feet. 'Everyone, back to back now!' The other Argonians huddled close with shields out, and Fleet stood next to Bloodies. 'Were you trying to get yourself killed, you idiot!?'

Bloodies had no idea what to say in the moment and only croaked. 'I-I... N-no, I w-wasn't...'

'Pull yourself back together, our tribe needs you whether you know it or not!'

Bloodies swallowed the lump of dust in his throat and nodded. Satisfied with that, Fleet kept his eyes open for any attackers. The Argonians held their ground as the Dark Elf, though dismayed at her partner's death, left them alone. Carnage was wrought around them as they made their stand amidst individual fights and duels. Bloodies just focused on trying to breathe while Fleet tightened his grip on his sword.

Finally, a deep booming noise reverberated across the arena as the horn blew again.

'Combatants! Sheathe your weapons!' the announcer commanded. Within a few moments the fighting ceased, and the last clouds of dust ascended into the air. Bloodies looked at all the warriors that remained, standing over the bodies of their fallen enemies, and saw how they too were trying to catch their breath. 'Congratulations to the survivors! You will all proceed to the duelling stage of the tournament!' the announcer commended, 'exit the arena now and rest. You've earned it!'

As soon as the announcer mentioned 'rest', Bloodies dropped his gear and fell back down to his knees and Fleet knelt beside him sick with worry. He could hear Fleet's voice, but it was as though he was shouting at him from above the surface of water. Bloodies' wounds on his back and shoulder seeped with dirt, sweat and blood and still stung--more so as he felt the excitement of battle fade into calm. But what hurt the most were his hands. He stared down at them as he failed to straighten his fingers. Beyond the aching was the blood--Kero's blood, now dried to a pale red on his black scales. He clenched his fists and screwed his tearful eyes shut, and afterward he could vaguely feel Fleet's embrace.

They retired from the pit with the rest of the combatants. Everyone stopped at the large basin of water in the antechamber to the arena entrances. The 'basin of renewal' as it was known was where all victorious warriors washed the blood and dirt off their bodies. Some of the gladiators say it makes them feel better after particularly bloody matches. But as Bloodies splashed the cold water on his face and wiped down his body, he did not feel the slightest bit relieved. Physicians came to treat the wounded combatants in the antechamber, taking the more grievously injured to the infirmary. Bloodies took off his armour and sat on the side as a physician applied a poultice, stitched his cuts, and bandaged them up. He could already feel the stitches inevitably coming apart in future battles. After they left the basin antechamber, Bloodies and Fleet left the other Argonians to sit and rest in the training area while they went to see Kero.

Even with their training, few gladiators survive melees like the one they just partook in. Even fewer survive without permanent injury. For the warriors who do not survive any of the fights in the pit, the bloodworks has a place for them: the mortuary hall. In a place like the arena there was no shortage of death, which meant there was no shortage of stone tables to lay the bodies on. As Bloodies and Fleet walked through the hall, they saw many faces familiar and unfamiliar all unified by their place among the dead. A few of them were gladiators of the arena, including those Bloodies had slain. Some bodies were bloodied and beaten beyond recognition, while others were being visited by their comrades; Bloodies saw the Dark Elf standing beside the Nord that Fleet had slain.

Eventually they came to be at Kero's side again. The arena caretakers had just brought his body down to lay upon the table, where they wiped it down with a wet washcloth and lit the funerary candles. When they were gone to continue their rounds, Bloodies stepped toward Kero shakily. His eyes were closed and, were it not for the cut on his throat, Bloodies could have believed he was just sleeping. That he could reach over and shake Kero ever-so-slightly and he would wake up. But he rested his hands on the stone table, just beside Kero, and let his passing daydream fade away into reality.

'He didn't deserve this,' Bloodies shakily whispered to Fleet, 'I told him to run, but he... he didn't listen.' His hands clenched into fists that trembled. 'It should have been me.'

Fleet leaned into Bloodies and saw his weeping eyes shimmer in the candlelight. 'That's why you did it,' Fleet murmured, 'why you ran in by yourself.'

Bloodies sniffled and tried to hold onto his crumbling composure. 'It should have been me...' Bloodies started to break down. 'I-It should have b-been me...' As his lover was reduced to tears, Fleet put his arms around him and squeezed him tight.

After what felt like an age, Bloodies' short sobbing breaths evened out. 'I saw him yawn,' he hissed sharply, 'Kero died in front of me, and the Emperor yawned.'

'Red...' Fleet could see his love now quivering with rage instead of sorrow.

'Akatosh let Kero die so that Leovic could yawn.' Bloodies thumped his fist on the stone table as air seethed through his gritted teeth. 'I'll kill him...' he whispered. Fleet wanted to say something--anything that would alleviate his egg-brother's rage, but he could not. 'I'm going to win this tournament and when I stand in front of Leovic, I'll kill him.'

'It's a real shame.' Both Bloodies and Fleet looked up from Kero to see Gaius standing close by. 'Kid worked hard and kept his head down, but it was all for nothing,' Gaius spoke solemnly.

'Because our Emperor is an animal,' Bloodies hissed.

'Red!' Fleet hushed.

But Gaius looked unfazed. 'He's a barbaric cunt just like the rest of his lineage,' Gaius corrected, 'remember that, because it's the only way to describe him.'

Bloodies nodded and then looked back at Kero. 'Gaius, you're not going to throw his body out like we do with the rest of them,' he asked as he looked back at the Blademaster, 'are you?'

Gaius folded his arms and stared back sternly. 'You know I don't pay for anyone's funerary rites--'

'Have a damn heart, Gaius,' Bloodies retorted immediately.

'--But as I was about to say: Brother Cirro offered to arrange any burials at the end of the tournament,' Gaius finished, 'so don't worry; kid stays here until then.'

Gaius did not take the opportunity to verbally bash Bloodies, so the Argonian just shut his mouth and looked back at Kero one more time.

'Anyway, I don't know where you two learned to fight and I don't care,' Gaius added, 'but you should train your friends more; duels start tomorrow, and you won't be there to protect any of them yourselves.' With that, Gaius left the two Argonians behind.

'Red,' Fleet began softly, 'I know you might not believe in Akatosh right now, but I still do.' Bloodies looked at Fleet seriously. 'I don't believe he let Kero die because I saw him fight... And Kero fought like everything mattered.' Fleet paused, letting out a sigh. 'Hold onto your faith, if not for me then for Kero.' Bloodies wanted to reject everything Fleet was saying, but he kept his mouth closed and just nodded.

For the rest of the night, they sparred with their egg-kin. Bloodies left no room for mistakes and drilled them harder than before. Every loose grip or open stance was a cold reminder of his failure with Kero. Fleet wasn't as hard of a trainer and encouraged the others after Bloodies corrected them. They sparred well into the night, even when the other gladiators had already finished their routines and left.

As the tribe took a moment afterward to catch their breath and rub their muscles, Fleet turned to Bloodies. 'Lulu's not here with us,' he mentioned.

Bloodies looked through their tribe--only eleven in number including Fleet and himself. 'We didn't see her after the fight either,' Bloodies recalled, 'You don't think she's in the mortuary, do you?'

Fleet shook his head. 'I don't know, I don't remember seeing her before the fight started either.' Bloodies wondered on this for a while.

The Argonians, tired out from rigorous practice, retired to their room. That night, the dimly lit stone room with straw piles felt like the safest place they'd ever been. They closed the door themselves to muffle the groaning and moaning of injured combatants who were still recovering in the infirmary nearby. The Argonians slept closer together rather than far apart, to the point they were almost huddled. Bloodies and Fleet slept together in their little corner to the side as they always did.

Just as their night spent was the closest they had ever been, the morning after was bleak beyond compare. What they could see of the sky through the grates of the bloodworks was a sea of overcast grey, as if the heavens themselves watched with worry. The Argonians weren't allowed in the stands with the other combatants to watch the duels, and so they waited outside of the basin antechamber for their time. The duels commenced in the pit above and were divided by smaller events of entertainment to calm the crowds back down after each match.

As the first of these small musical or performative acts began, Gaius came to tell one of the Argonians they were next. Bloodies sat with Fleet on a bench nearby, clasping his Akatosh amulet in his hands and eyes shut in half-hearted prayer. He'd look up whenever the crowd cheered rambunctiously for a victor, signalling the end of the duel. The victor from the duel would come down through the antechamber and wash themselves off before leaving. Eventually, after two and a half hours, Gaius would then come down into the bloodworks and stand by the Argonian who was to fight next.

'Lord Akatosh, lend Gilen your temperance...' Bloodies added to his prayer as Gilen stood up and picked up his shield. Fleet just watched as Gilen walked up with Gaius through the antechamber and up the ramp to his fight. When he was gone, Fleet watched over Bloodies who bowed his head over his hands and held onto his amulet like nothing else mattered. The Argonians saw a Redguard fighter go through the antechamber and up the opposing ramp. The bloodworks were unusually quiet, so only the roar of the crowds could be heard as indicators to how the fight was going.

Duels in the arena normally didn't take longer than a few minutes. The ones that did were noteworthy for how matched the combatants were in skill, and normally they were only fights to first blood. However, as with the melee, the duels in the tournament were to the death at Emperor Leovic's command. Bloodies tried not to think about that as much, and instead recalled how Gilen used to be so quiet and shy amongst the others. He was younger than the others, much like Kero.

After a few minutes, the crowd cheered and the Argonians looked up. Down the ramp from whence he came was Gilen. He bore a few bleeding cuts on his scales and nicks in his armour, and his face and neck were splattered with blood. But what's more was that he took smaller steps and as he came into torchlight, the shock that was written in his expression became clear. He reached the basin, put down his shield and splashed water on his face. After a few moments of leaning on the basin with red-tinted droplets falling away from his maw, Gilen started to cry.

Gaius came down and patted the Argonian on the back before coming toward the others. The cycle repeated itself as he came to stand by the next fighter before taking them up as the small entertainment concluded above.

'Lord Akatosh, lend Kya your ferocity...' Bloodies prayed as Gaius ushered Kya through the antechamber, past a still-crying Gilen. Soon after, her opponent passed through: it was the Dark Elf swordswoman from before. When Gilen came to sit with his egg-brothers, Kya's duel began with the sound of the horn.

Bloodies thought of Kya as he did of Gilen. He recalled back to times they had spoken and shared meals. Besides Lulu, Kya was the only other girl among them. She was almost as optimistic as Fleet, always finishing her chores with a smile. The crowd cheered above, but then the cheers turned to gasps. Bloodies and the others looked up and watched. Soon after, Kya was carried down the ramp by the caretakers and straight past the basin. She looked out to her egg-brothers weakly with a smile. Her egg-brothers all stared back in shock as blood leaked onto the stones from her severed sword arm. Fleet pulled Bloodies' head close to his pre-emptively as Gaius followed behind the caretakers.

Bloodies continued to pray for the others, rejoicing when they returned safely and lamenting when Jeelius and Kul-Ei did not return. Soon after, it came to Floats-On-Water's turn. He was one of the novices Bloodies trained, and the one he was most worried for.

'Lord Akatosh, lend Floats your strength...' Bloodies prayed as Gaius lead the youngling away. Beyond begging Akatosh for protection, Bloodies prayed most of all for the safety of his friends.

They saw a trio of Breton knights come toward the antechamber, but none of them proceeded through. They were covered head to toe in Bretonic plate armour, faces hidden by full helms with horizontal slits.

'Which one of you is the oldest?' the knight at the head of the trio asked, his voice echoed by his helm.

One of the older Argonians, Saiei, stood up. 'I am.'

The knight turned to Saiei and looked him up and down. 'Did you teach the other Argonians how to fight?'

Saiei shook his head profusely. 'No, no--we learned from Bloodies and Fleet over there.' He pointed to the two, who eyed the knights warily.

The leader stepped forward and kneeled before the two before taking off his helm. The man looked to be older among his kind, but his brown hair did not have the grey streaks of an aging man like Gaius did. He looked over the two Argonians, his hazel eyes level with the Bloodies and Fleet's own.

'I am Sir Simon of Alcaire,' he introduced himself. 'My companions and I were to duel you both and your friend in the pit, but we have since withdrawn from the tournament.' Bloodies looked from Simon to his other two knights. His eyes lingered on the embossed and engraved metalwork of their armour before he looked back at Simon.

'Why?' Bloodies asked. Simon didn't answer for a moment, but he glanced at the other Argonians.

'Because we swore oaths as Knights of the Flame, but nowhere in our oaths did we swear to do battle with younglings,' Simon explained, 'even if younglings such as yourselves know how to fight; we did not come here to spill the blood of children.' Simon looked back at Bloodies. In his eyes, the noble knight looked disturbed. Bloodies wasn't sure what to feel about what he said. While he and his egg-kin were young, they were hardly children anymore.

Sir Simon stood back up and donned his helmet once more. 'We wish you the best for your future battles,' Simon bade farewell, 'may the fires of determination burn ever in your hearts.'

As the trio of knights took their leave, Bloodies followed briefly. 'Sir Simon!' he called out. The knights paused and Sir Simon turned to face the young Argonian. 'I'll never forget what you have done for us. Where is Alcaire?' Bloodies hoped he said it correctly as he only heard it once from the knight himself.

'Far in the north-west in the kingdom of Wayrest,' Simon answered, 'why do you ask?'

Bloodies' tail swished nervously. 'One day I want to repay your kindness.' He half expected the knights to laugh at him, as other men had done before whilst looking down on him and his egg-kin, but the knights simply contemplated his response.

Sir Simon, too, took a moment before speaking again. 'You might make a fine knight one day,' he observed, 'if you ever make it to Alcaire, come find me by name.' With that, the knights departed the bloodworks and Bloodies held onto Sir Simon's words.

The overcast skies began to clear, as though the heavens celebrated victory. Though the crowds let out boos of disappointment over a cancelled fight, Floats returned down the ramp unscathed. The other Argonians cheered with him as Bloodies stood by with Fleet, watching the others.

'We'll be okay, Red,' Fleet said to comfort him, 'thanks to those knights.'

Bloodies nodded and then looked down at his Akatosh amulet. 'And thanks to Akatosh too, I guess.'

Fleet hugged Bloodies close. 'Jeelius and Kul-Ei are with him in Heaven now, I'm sure of it.'

Bloodies nodded and closed his hand around his amulet. 'Fleet?'

'Mm? What is it?'

'One day, I will be a knight like Sir Simon.'