Of Legends and Slaves
#1 of Of Legends and Slaves
I am so happy with this story, I can't even begin to describe it. Although I wish I had the abilities to make it into a comic, there is no way I can with my sad drawing skills. I will not lie, though, in saying that this story was thought up after I drew a picture of the two main characters. I just loved the way they looked together, and I had to do something with them. So, please enjoy, or at least fake your excitement on my behalf. XD
Of Legends and Slaves
Chapter 1
The sounds of rawhide meeting flesh cracked through the air as hundreds of furrs of many different species toiled and labored their lives away. Many were here to work off their debts to society. Either being criminals or having bills left unpaid. Others, however, were the so called 'Professional slaves.' Slaves born into slavery. All they had to live and breath for was the same thing day after day. Back-breaking labor, no benefits, and the promise of an early grave at the hands of the strenuous work. Perhaps the only light that shined down on these damned few was the hope of being selected to become a gladiator.
To be picked out of the murders of slave work and to be trained to become a gladiator was sometimes the reason some furrs even picked up their shovels each day. They would be taken from their work, placed in a school for a week, and then given their weapons so that they might have the chance to fight against the legendary Ouranos, the only gladiator to have never lost a match in all of his 22 years of battle. They also knew that they would probably lose. No one had ever beaten Ouranos, and no one had ever walked out of the ring alive. The slaves with the wish to fight against such odds might be considered crazy, but they knew that death at the paws of Ouranos was a thousand times more respectful than death at the hands of hard labor.
The whips continued to snap and crack across bare backs and hunched shoulders as the guards were ordered to put an extra strain on the slaves to pick up the mess. "Move it, maggots, move! You know what today is! It's time again..." The slaves understood before the guard even finished. It was time to be judged, to be selected out of the crowd to become a gladiator. "Do you want Lord Ouranos and his men to laugh at the very sight of you all!? I find myself laughing, and I have to watch over you every day, imagine their reactions!"
The slaves moved fast, picking up rocks and wheeling barrels of gravel from one place to another. They took the pain of the whips and the verbal beatings. Soon those who selected gladiators would be there, and soon some would be freed from their work forever. The sounds of their speeding carriages and the dust kicked up from their wheels could already be seen in the distance. Soon, very soon, someone was to be saved.
"Stand in a line! Shoulders and heads high! I'm doing this for you, not me, just remember that! So, I don't want to see any of you giving me grief, and just stand straight!" The head guard prepared the slaves for Ouranos' arrival. The guard was a large tiger, easily twice the size of the largest slave. His muscles bulged out from underneath his sparse armor, and his tail swayed with its own air of authority. "They are here, no fuck ups and some of you might be leaving my sights for good!" The guard turned to face the carriage that had pulled up behind him. He opened the door for whoever was inside, and found himself hurriedly bowing on his knees as he saw Ouranos come out. "Lord Ouranos..." The tiger said humbly, knowing his place. Another carriage pulled up behind the first, the slave's carriage no doubt. A few more higher standing furrs got out of the second carriage, and joined Ouranos in looking over the slaves.
Ouranos got close to all of them, his nose wrinkling as the stench of dirt and perspiration flooded his senses. "We only need one of you this time, just one! So look alive so Ouranos may have an easier time choosing one of you!" One of the furrs from the second carriage said as he held a small board in his paws. The slaves almost trembled in the shadow of Ouranos. He was a lion unlike any other lion. His mane thick and long with age and experience. His muscles large. His paws even larger. They all knew he could kill each and every one of them without so much as a scratch, but still they looked sharp.
Ouranos looked at them closely. He looked at their bodies, how worn and beaten they were. He needed a furr that had youth on his side, one whose body could take a punch. Those with bruises were out. Next, Ouranos looked for any large cuts or wounds. He did not need a slave who had already been defeated, he wanted to break him himself. Those who were visibly injured were out. That left him with few choices. A couple of cats and dogs of various species, boring. He had fought and slain far enough of those kind to suit him for the rest of his life. He needed someone different. He searched at those still remaining, and his eyes landed on only one.
"You." Ouranos said, pointing a finger at the slave he wanted.
"Lord Ouranos has made his selection, the rest of you back to work!" The Tiger guard spoke up, forcing the crowd to disperse, leaving only the one slave behind. He walked up behind the slave and placed his paws on his shoulders, walking him forward so that Ouranos and the others could get a better look at him. "Tell the cat with the board your basic information. You are no longer a slave, kid."
"My name is... Calais. I am 20 years old." The slave told the male with the board, his eyes watching his paws as they scribbled his name and age down.
"A bull? Such an interesting choice, Ouranos." The feline said after he finished writing. "Now, Calais, normally we would take you away to be trained to be a proper gladiator, so that you might stand up against Ouranos for more than a few seconds. I'm afraid, however, we are lacking the time needed to teach you how to fight. Now, you will still fight, but you will be last. We will have several other fights before yours, so you will have time to figure out your battle plans."
"Why can't I train? Surly there is a reason." Calais spoke up, his shoulders tensing as he felt the Tiger guard's paws grip slightly at him.
"The fights start tomorrow. We were already planned, and then one of the fighters went and killed himself last night. So, that's why we are here, and why you get no time to prepare. I'm sorry, but let's face it, you'd die anyway..." The feline official said, his voice not wavering once during his confession. "Now, come. We must leave this dreadful place."
"Sorry, kid. I have to say, you were one of my favorites to watch out there on the work field, if that helps any..." The Tiger guard whispered sympathetically into Calais's ear. "Try not to die, ok? I'm cheering for you." The guard patted the bull's back as he walked away.
"....." Calais had no idea what to think after hearing the guard whisper into his ear. He never would have guessed he favored him, he did not seem to act any differently around him. Although he did notice he had rarely been given lashes while all the others got them on an almost daily basis.
Ouranos watched the young bull come closer. He was pleased with his selection. The bull was strong, his muscles visibly large, even though they were not as large as his. Besides being dirty, the bull could have easily been confused with an already trained gladiator. He was tall, perhaps the same height as Ouranos himself, and Ouranos could not help but wonder what the young bull's gray skin and fur would feel like as he ran his claws through them. Everything about the male seemed perfect, everything, even the small bronze slave ring that he wore on his left horn along with the extra bronze ring that he wore in his nose.
"Into the second carriage. We will take you to get cleaned up and prepared for tomorrow's games." The first official said, leading the way to the carriage, and getting inside once Calais and the second official were inside.
Calais, once inside the carriage, looked down at his hoof-tipped fingers. He knew he was going to die, he knew that he was lucky to get the chance, but deep down he wished he could have stayed. There were so many things he wished he could have done before dying, and now that he felt his time was nearing its end, he was worried he would never get the chance. He was curious about life, and even more curious now after hearing the guard whisper in his ear. If the guard had said something sooner, could they have had a little fun before Calais was doomed to be a gladiator?
He had not been a slave for very long. Calais was mainly forced to join the working force because he had no other choice. He worked so his family did not have to. It was either they gave him away to slavery, or give his brother. Calais volunteered. His brother was too young, he still had his whole life, and Calais knew he could do the work. Now, however, he was a gladiator. Without him working, what would happen to the family's debt? Would they pull his brother to work in his place? Calais was not sure how that would work out, but all he could do was think for himself at that time.
_____
Calais had been given a bath and was drilled on the very basics of fighting by the second official that was there when he was chosen. This official was also a cat, like the first. All of the higher officials in the city were felines, so it was only natural that the official that schooled him be one, too. This one was nothing too impressive. A mere cat, to say the least. He was small, his fur short, and his paws tiny. He could never hold a sword, and could most certainly never battle against someone such as Ouranos. He did, however, understand how to fight. He drilled Calais over and over, doing his best with the little time he had available.
Calais already knew how to fight. He practiced with his brother before he was sent off to be a slave. He knew he was fully capable in holding a sword and shield, and though he doubted his ability to win, he knew he would not die very easily. With his knowledge of fighting as it was, his lessons ended quickly.
Next, Calais was given the garb of a slave-turned-gladiator. Compared to the clothing of a slave, which was nothing more than a knee-length dress, the gladiator clothing was not much of a change. The slave dress was colored by the dirt and grime of the job it went along with. The gladiator dress was a clean white, and a little shorter than that of the slave dress. Instead of extending to the knee, it made it just past the mid-thigh. The length was merely practical. Legs did not need to get caught up in fabric that helped to weigh the fighter down. Underneath, a thin, white thong. Again, not much of a change, but enough for there to be a decided difference.
The gladiators were not given armor, because Ouranos himself used none. Not once had he been defeated, and also, not once had he been wounded. Ouranos decided the rules, and the fighters could only follow them.
After the gladiators were finished with their battle preparations, all they could do was wait for the next day. The ways in which they passed their times varied from sitting and chatting with one another, to other various forms of excitement. Calais wandered aimlessly around the gladiator's holding area, which consisted of one large mansion-like house that was filled with several rooms. The house was their to shelter the gladiators in their week of preparation, so it was only unfortunate that Calais could not enjoy it fully.
Calais poked his head in various rooms, searching for one without a group inside. There were not that many gladiators, but there were enough to fill up the house to where more than one could be in each room. Calais kept looking, knowing he was bound to find one room of solitude. Room after room, however, had someone in it. Calais walked in on everything from practice battles to late-night feasts, and one room in particular grabbed his attention for more than a few seconds.
There were three furrs inside the one room Calais happened to peek into. The room was dimly lit by a few candles that sat atop tables. Calais knew it was occupied, the noises made that painfully obvious, but he could not leave until he saw what the sounds meant. His eyes strained, his ears perked to catch the sounds better. He centered his vision on the middle of the room, the area with the bed, and saw three of the gladiators melded together in a love-curl. One leaning over another while his paws held his dress up as he forced his swollen prick into the one underneath him. The one being fucked had his face buried in the lap of the third, his maw eagerly sliding up and down over the gladiator's hard shaft.
Calais tried not to watch, but he knew he had to. His heart raced as he listened to the heated groans, the passionate grunts, the lustful moans. He could feel his own cock fill underneath his dress, and slowly his paw made it's way down to his crotch so that it may relieve the tension that was building. Before he could wrap his paw around his throbbing dick, he heard a sigh come from inside the room, and then he heard one of the three on the bed begin to talk. "You, come on in. Join us, for this might be the last time..." The male's voice was thick, and his invention weighed heavily on Calais's mind. He was embarrassed to have been caught, and saddened by the words of the male. Indeed it might be the last chance he ever got, but he would not, he could not.
Calais left the room and continued to search for one that was empty. No one was given a specific room. So Calais could not just simply head for his own bedroom. As he looked in more rooms he could see there might not be much of a chance to find one that was empty. He would have to settle eventually. Calais managed to stumble upon a room near the back of the house. Inside was only one other furr, a cheetah. Calais began to leave the room, intending to try and maybe find another room, but the cheetah called him back in.
"Hey, trying to find some quiet?"
"Yeah, actually... This place is a madhouse." Calais slipped inside, shutting the door behind himself.
"Tell me about it. The name's Aeson, you can stay in here if you want, I don't mind." Aeson introduced himself. He sat down on a chair that was placed in front of a large window that looked out over the night darkened landscape. "I wasn't doing anything anyway, and I can understand on a guy wanting his peace."
"You'd think they would want to rest up, it is getting kind of late." Calais said as he came farther into the room, finding a bed to sit on.
"Well, you have to understand that this is probably the last night of all of their lives. Maybe even ours, as well. It's only natural that they'd spend it like this." Aeson said, looking over his shoulder at the bull that lowered his head. "It's sad, but it's the truth. I'm sure you have thought about it."
"I have." Calais closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the situation weigh heavily down on him.
"So, why spend it in here? Why not enjoy yourself?" Aeson looked back outside.
"I could. I could have joined in on a three-way even, but... that's just not me." Calais said. He had hardly known Aeson for more than a few seconds and already he could tell the cat was wise. So, confiding in him some could not hurt. "There's no way I can let loose when I know that my death could result in the destruction of my family."
"....." Aeson turned his chair around and looked at the bull sitting one of the beds inside of the room.
"I was a slave so my brother could stay at home. If I die, he'll have to take my place. I can't celebrate when I know that will happen." Calais felt a dull ache begin to rise in the back of his head.
"We have something in common, friend." Aeson said, standing up and walking closer to the bull. "Though I may not have been a slave, I am here for a reason not much unlike yours." Aeson placed himself on a bed next to the bull's. "My family, we are in debt. Bills drown us every second of the day. I wish slavery had been a choice for me, I would have taken it in an instant. But... the government found out I have had some fighting experience."
"The decision was made for you." Calais said, feeling the cat's grief.
"Right. I know that I stand little chance at winning my fight with Ouranos, and that would mean I would die, leaving my wife to fend for herself and my son, Jason." Aeson spoke heavily, the truth obviously weighing just as heavily on him as it was on Calais. "So, like you, I would rather spend my last night in here than out there with the excitement."
"I'm sorry, Aeson. I wish I could help." Calais spoke after there was a minute of cold silence.
"We share the same pain, so I also feel sorry for you." Aeson looked up at the sad bull, his lips curling into a smile. "What do you say, let's give it our all. I know I am not going down without a fight."
"You've got it." The two nodded at each other, and then looked over at the window. "My name's Calais, thanks for being in here."
"I'm happy I was, Calais. Fate, perhaps." Aeson stood up and walked back over to his chair.
"Yeah, perhaps." Calais watched the other male. Aeson was older than himself, if he had to guess he would say somewhere around 30. He was in good physical shape, more lean than muscular. The body type of a cat such as he, one that dealt with speed rather than strength.
"So, you're the one that is to replace the one we lost last night?" Aeson spoke up, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, I've had basically no time to train." Calais said, standing up to walk over to the window. He sat on the ground at the side of Aeson's chair. "Lucky I know how to fight already, but I'm sure that will only get me so far..."
"No kidding, you've got some experience? We are a lot alike, you and I. I wish we could have met under different circumstances, we might have spent some time together." Aeson looked down at the younger male. His heart was already heavy enough as it was with the thoughts of his wife and son, but now adding on the thoughts of losing his new friend, he could feel his eyes begin to well up.
"I wish that to, I'm sure we could have gotten along." Calais looked down at his paws as they fiddled with the hem of his dress.
The room grew silent, the atmosphere thick with an unspoken sorrow. Calais thought about everyone else that was inside of the gladiator's living quarters. Were they all just as sad about the upcoming day? Or, were they lying to themselves. Surely they all did not think they would win against Ouranos. At least some of them knew they were to die. Maybe the three in the bedroom? Yes, Calais was sure they knew. The one that invited him did so in a way that made his feelings painfully obvious.
Calais could feel his heart grow heavy. Want he would have given to have seen his family. He wanted to hold his mother one last time. His father, how he wanted to help him with the household chores more than ever before. And his brother. Calais wanted to see Zetes the most. Play fight and simply run amuck like they used to do before Calais had to leave. Calais could only hope that Zetes would be spared from the life of a slave.
Aeson looked down at the depressed bull. No doubt he was thinking about his own family. He was amazed as he looked at the other male. He must have been through a lot that day. He had to be trained, and that alone was something that he himself had to practice at for a week. For Calais to go through it all in one day was a feat in its own.
"Are you not tired? You must be, what with all you've done today." Aeson asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees.
"To tell you the truth, I haven't thought about it." Calais remembered his own bodily needs, and no sooner after did he let out a yawn. "This might seem idiotic of me, but... I'm kind of afraid to go to sleep. Seems like a waste."
Aeson closed his eyes and laid back in the chair. "I myself want to stay awake. I can't tell you how much I'll miss watching the sun rise. I always used to hate it, the sun rising. It always meant I had to wake up and go work. But now," Aeson's words broke off for a moment. He swallowed hard, a lump of emotions getting clogged inside his throat. "I just wish I could watch it forever." Silently, a single tear perched itself at the edge of Aeson's eye. "I have to rest, though, so I'm afraid I'll have to miss it." Aeson brought a paw up to bat away the tear before it could fall.
Calais held his knees to his chest. He did not want to die. He knew that no matter what he would fight until Ouranos drove his blade through his chest. He would not give up. "I've never thought about simple things such as dawn. Now I realize I'll miss them too, especially the rain. By the Gods, how I love to listen to it. So relaxing, you know?" Calais asked Aeson, looking up at him and seeing the strained face that was plastered on the other male.
"Rain, it was always good for my crops. We haven't had too much of it this year, though. It's a shame." Aeson gladly took the diversion in conversation.
"It's true, I've noticed that, too. That's alright, I know we'll see it again. What do you say?" Calais stood up, now hovering over the still sitting feline. "Let's demolish this guy, Ouranos, in hopes of having better days."
"I'm with you. I will not go down without a fight!" Aeson was suddenly inspired by the young bull's words. He stood up from his chair and grabbed one of Calais' paws in his own. "Good luck, friend. Now, I think it's time to rest our paws."
Calais nodded his head and eagerly shook the other male's paw. He felt that he could fight and win now more than ever. No longer did he see a void in his future, but something bright. There was no changing his fate, he knew that, so there was no point in sulking his time away. Aeson walked over to the candles that burned all across the room and blew each out with a quick breath. Calais slipped in between his sheets and waited for the other to enter his own bed so that they may rest together. Calais could feel his eyelids droop heavily, the exhaustion of the day hitting him quick and hard.
____
It seemed like Calais had hardly closed his eyes before he felt two paws shake him by his shoulders. "Calais, wake up! Most of the house has gone, if we don't hurry we'll be late!" Aeson's worried voice woke the groggy bull up quickly. Calais felt his heart race as he threw his covers off and jump out of bed. Luckily he had no clothes to put on, his battle dress still fastened around his waist. So, once he and Aeson had both taken a quick pit-stop in the bathrooms, they were off.
"Hurry along now! Are you two the last?" A guard asked Calais and Aeson as they exited the house. They both nodded their heads and boarded a carriage that was to carry them all to the Colosseum. This guard looked similar to the guard back at the slave grounds. He was a large tiger, muscles thick and undoubtably packing a cock that suited his body well. Calais looked at him for a few moments after entering the carriage. Tigers seemed to be popular for guard duties. His mind drifted back to the slave guard. He said he would be cheering him on. Calais hoped he was, he knew he would need as many people praying for him as he could get.
The guard closed the door to the carriage and signaled to the driver guard, also a tiger, that all had boarded. The first guard simply walked behind the carriage to make sure no one would try and run. Top security. Nothing was going to ruin the chances for a great day of blood games.
Calais sat next to Aeson, the two forced close together due to the crowding in the carriage. The group had to be split into several different carts, the others had already left by the time Calais and Aeson had made it outside. Due to this, they would probably be fighting near the end. They were sure that no time would be wasted once they made it to the game central. The fans were brutal with their excitement. If they did not see blood and gore in the first ten minutes, a riot would surely break out.
The sun beamed down on the group of doomed athletes. Calais could feel the top of his head begin to burn, the sun obviously having no pity for his predicament. Perhaps it was the heat, but Calais swore that he could already hear the ravenous cheers of the citizens that filled the Colosseum. Mind games, maybe, but Calais could not shake the sound out of his ears. As he looked around at the others inside of his carriage, he could see their faces. They looked like they heard the same sounds as he did.
"Now listen up..." The guard walking behind the carriage spoke up, catching the attention of all the fighters. "As you may have noticed, you are the last group that will be making it to the Colosseum. This means you all will be saved for last. You specific order will be determined at random upon arriving. I just thought I would give you all a heads up, so none of you expect to get dirty right away." The guard went silent after he said what was needed to be said. A few relieved sighs broke out of a couple of the guys inside the carriage. It was somewhat comforting to know death was a few more hours away from claiming their souls.
____
Once they reached the Colosseum, the sounds of the one of the first fights could be heard over the walls. The crowd was roaring cheers directed at Ouranos, urging him on to end things quickly. Those getting off the carriage swallowed hard at the sounds. Soon they would be in the same boat as the guy on the other side of the wall. Calais did not notice himself walking close behind Aeson as they walked into the holding cells.
The group was divided into several different cages. None of the others from any of the others groups could be found, all of them being held in separate areas depending on the times they will fight. Calais and Aeson were placed in one of the last cells in the hall, giving them the privilege of being, most likely, the last two to fight. The two got as comfortable as they could inside the cell. The sounds of the fight echoing down the hall all the way from the battlefield. Then Calais felt his fur stand up as he heard the crowd howl louder, and then the sounds of the gladiator being slain by Ouranos experienced paws. It was going to be a long day.
Minutes turned into hours as Calais and the others awaited the inevitable. Once the first from their group had been taken out to the field, whispers and worried chit-chat could be heard breaking out amongst the cells. Calais looked over at Aeson, who had been standing with his paws wrapped around the bars of their cage for a little more than an hour. Calais wanted to say something, but he could not think of the words. He wanted to say it was lucky that they got the position they did, that they would breath longer than the others, but guilt kept him quiet. What the others would have given to of had the few more minutes that Aeson and Calais were blessed to have. Calais could not feel joy in the time he had been given because of that.
"Calais, if one of us has a slight hope of winning, we must think of something." Aeson spoke up, snapping Calais out of his thoughts. "We are indeed incredibly lucky to have the position that we do. Being last, we, of all the others, have the greatest chance of succeeding at killing this boar." Aeson turned around then, walking over to the sitting Calais and kneeling down in front of him. "By the time we get out there, he will be so tired I can only imagine how his movements will be slowed. He is, after all, mortal, despite all the rumors of his god-like abilities."
Calais nodded his head as he listened to the feline. He could feel his heart begin to pump fast at Aeson's eager words. It seemed like, for the first time that day, things seemed to be looking up.
"Went it comes to us, let me go first. I have speed on my side. Watch me closely, make sure you catch every bit of exhaustion in the lion's stance. If I don't make it, you'll have the upper hand. I will run circles around him so quick, that he will be so dizzy on your go around, that you'll have no problem." Aeson's paws gripped the young bull's shoulders.
"Aeson, please, let me go first." Calais begged. The thought of being last making his blood run cold.
"No, trust me, this is the best way." Aeson gripped Calais' shoulders to prove his point. "Now, let's just wait... and pray." With that, Aeson stood up again and walked back to the bars.
Calais looked at the cat's back. He hoped he would not have to go through with his end of the plan, but if he had to he would. He would do it for Aeson. With the battle plan repeating itself inside of his head, Calais let his head rest on his arms as he sat on the ground with his knees pressing against his chest.
____
Before he knew it, Calais was jarred by the sounds of keys crashing against the metal of their cell. "Come on, you two, let's get these games over with." Another tiger guard said, his voice deep and rough. Calais slowly stood up and followed Aeson out of the cell. He looked down the hall at the last fight before they would go out. The crowd was just as fierce as ever, and from the early looks of things, Ouranos had not slowed down one bit.
"Which one of you goes first?" The guard asked, his eyes moving back and forth between the two makeshift gladiators.
"Me." Aeson said calmly. The tiger guard snorted as he moved Aeson to the front, guiding them down the long corridor until they reached the entrance of the area. Just as they made it, the one that had been fighting had just been despatched with. Calais was horrified by the sight of the battlefield. Countless bodies lay sprawled across every other inch, blood thick on the ground and faces contorted in their last, sad death cries. Calais averted his gaze to the crowd, and felt like he traded one terrible sight for another. Almost foaming at the mouth, the citizens of the city undulated like one giant monster. The sight was almost more sickening than that of the death and carnage. How could they find such atrocious games so entertaining?
"Awful, just awful..." Aeson hissed, causing Calais to look at the back of his head. "This Ouranos will pay for all of this." His words were laced with hate, the need for vengeance painted on every syllable.
"Good luck, Cheetah." The guard said, overhearing Aeson's reaction. "Lord Ouranos has not received one blow, not ever. I'm sure by the end of these games, his record will still be standing strong."
Aeson ignored the cold words that came from the guard. Calais, however, looked wearyingly at the large tiger. The tiger caught his gaze and looked back at him, giving a deep-throated chortle at the frightened sight of the bull. "You wait with me until this kitty is dead, then you'll get your turn." The guard teased, his words effecting the bull all to easily.
The furrs in the audience bellowed for the show to continue, their bloodlust not yet fulfilled. Ouranos looked over at the two remaining gladiators and motioned for Aeson to come forward. Calais held his breath as he watched the seemingly fearless Aeson walk towards his destiny. He held back the paw he wanted to reach out and touch the leaving cat's back. Somehow he already knew Aeson would not be coming back.
"Better lose those feelings for your friend, lest you want the pain at seeing his death be all the more bitter." The guard warned Calais, his words still cold, even though they seemed to speak the truth.
"How can you... just watch this?" Calais asked, not meaning to literally verbalize the question that he intended to be kept inside his head.
"It's my job, Bull." The guard replied, his rough voice causing Calais to look up at him slightly, though his gaze still rested on Aeson's back.
"Yes, but... do you not feel sick? So much death, and for what? Just so a few can get pleasure out of mass murder?" Calais knew he was talking to the wrong guy with his feelings, but he had no other choice.
"These people wait all year for the games, the games are all they have to wait for. While I myself may never want to find myself fighting against a guy like him..." The guard nodded his head towards Ouranos, his voice losing some of it's harshness as he talked. "I find no remorse in watching others die at his paws."
Calais shook his head at the large tiger. He knew there was no point, but he just wanted to hear the reasons for the fights from someone who enjoyed them. Silence overcame him as he watched Aeson stand before Ouranos. Aeson held no sword, his pride beginning to show through as he stared down the bloody lion. With the signal from an official sitting in a ringside balcony above Calais, the fight began.
In a flash, Aeson broke into a sprint. He ran in circles around Ouranos, and like he told Calais to do, the bull watched for any signs of tiredness in the lion's movements. Ouranos simply stayed still as his eyes followed the speedy Aeson around the ring. Aeson was thinking to himself as he ran around the stationary lion. He would go in suddenly for an attack, and hopefully it would land. He heard the crowd gasp in awe at the sight of his speed. He could feel his blood boil. So badly he wanted to feel the lion's flesh tear under his claws that, perhaps, he let the emotions cloud his judgment.
Quick as a bullet, Aeson shot for Ouranos. His paws kicking fast at the dusty ground, moving around the bodies that cluttered his path. Ouranos simply turned his head and watched the other feline come closer. "I grow old, attack so that we may end these games." Ouranos said out to the speeding cheetah. Aeson felt his lips curl, exposing his sharp teeth, as he heard the cocky lion's words. It was time for his to attack. As he came upon the lion, Aeson swung his claw-flared paws at the warrior. With great ease, Ouranos evaded the oncoming attack.
Aeson was shocked. The old lion had not slowed down at all. He had fought far more battles than any normal gladiator could, and yet he was still able to keep up with him and his speed? Perhaps it was true, perhaps Ouranos was more than a mere mortal. As that thought traveled through his mind, Aeson let his guard down, and felt as one of his arms was grabbed by the large, rough paws of Ouranos. Painfully, Aeson was thrown to the ground, the large lion crushing one of his feet into the smaller feline's stomach once he was on the ground.
Aeson lost at of his breath. He could not help but grab at his stomach and writhe on the ground in pain. Ouranos. Aeson knew now that the lion was the most terrifying thing he would ever see. Someone so strong should not have been able to exist, and yet, here he was. Aeson coughed out blood as he attempted to stand up, his knees shaky under his weight.
Calais stood next to the guard, his hoof-tipped fingers balled into fists as he watched on with great pain. Ouranos was a monster, how anyone could ever hope to beat someone such as him was a mystery. Calais could feel his eyes puff up with tears as he saw the wobbly cat stand up, not wanting to give up. "Please..." Calais could not muster up any more words as he watched Ouranos lash out on the injured cat. Clearly, it was over.
Aeson laid on the ground, his eyes looking up at Ouranos, half-lidded. "Please, spare me... My family, please..." Ouranos frowned at the pleading Aeson. Hot tears flowed freely down the broken cat's face as he looked death in the face. It was time. Ouranos looked up at the crowd as he held his sword over the fallen gladiator. He looked for signs for what they wanted, want form of execution the majority felt like they wanted to see. The first he saw was a woman with her thumb pointing at her chest. It was decided. Ouranos looked down at the sobbing cat and brought his sword down on his in one, swift motion. Aeson choked as he felt the cold metal stab through his chest, piercing his heart. The pain was like no other. His tears continued to flow out as his paws shakily made their ways up to grasp at the blade that had impaled him.
Calais felt his own heart stop as he saw his friend being skewered. No matter how hard he tried, he could not stop his tears as the exploded down his face. The guard looked down at him and shook his eyes. He warned the bull not to get too attached. Calais felt as his knees buckled, his weight becoming far too much for the young bull to bare. His vision was blurry as he watched Aeson's arms fall limp and his body stop convulsing. Calais let his head fall, his tears falling down to wet the dirt under him. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. He could die now for all he cared, he was so numb that he doubted his ability to stand.
"Stand up, fool!" The guard blasted, his words failing to rouse the grieving bull. "You are the last fight, either you fight or you set off a riot! What's worse, losing your life, of others losing theirs in the midst of the mayhem that you caused?" Calais let his gaze rase. His eyes were calm, no more tears coming out. "That's it, bull, get up and fight." The guard helped the bull rise to his feet, and then edged him onto the battlefield. "Now, give these games an ending worthy of the Gods!"
Calais walked out onto the field. Stepping over body after body, Calais could feel his heart begin to shift from sadness to wrath. So many had died at the hands of Ouranos, and if Calais could help it, he would be the one to end the lion's reign over the city. His speed increased from a trudging walk to a steady run as his heart pumped with hate. Without the signal from the officials, Calais came upon Ouranos and lashed out physical attack after physical attack. The bull had been trained in paw-to-paw combat, and he was rather speedy with it as well.
Ouranos was caught off guard by the bull's sudden attacks. His legs were whizzing past his face, and his elbows just barely missed as Ouranos was struggling to keep up. Such ferocity. Ouranos began to feel his heart beat with the joys of battle, a feeling he had not felt in years. Once he became adjusted to the bull's attacks, Ouranos found it rather easy to get in a few blows. Calais stumbled back as he felt the large paws of the lion slam into his sides and face. Ouranos was apparently just as good with his paws as he was with his sword.
Calais was able to avoid some of the heavier blows that Ouranos attempted to deal. Still, he could feel blood begin to trickle down his nose. His muscles bulged with adrenaline, his nerves numbing the pain he felt from the hits had taken. He continued to attempt to connect a blow with the lion, but was only met with blocks. Calais moved a few feet away, breathing heavily as he tried to find a point at which he could attack. Ouranos was covered on all sides, there was no flaw with his stance. Calais knew he was the definition of amateur, and he knew that Ouranos was quite the opposite.
Ouranos smiled to himself as he looked at the bull trying to size him up. He could feel a bit of respect beginning to form for the younger fighter. Never before had he felt his blood rush during such a fight. His opponents were always killed in the first few minutes, but the bull, he was able to take hits and even attempt to send a few. As he held himself in his perfect stance, Ouranos could feel his cock jump under his battle dress.
Calais jolted forward, throwing a hoofed foot at the lion. Ouranos avoided the attack and sent his own crushing blow at the bull's face. Calais clutched at his face, the pain shooting all throughout his body. He fell to his knees, knowing that the blow was intended to be the game-winning attack. He could hear the crowd roar with approval, urging Ouranos to kill him. Stealthily, Calais peeked through his fingers. He could see Ouranos basking in the glory, soaking in the praise. Now was his chance. Once Ouranos turned his head to look at the crowd on the other side of the Colosseum, Calais lunged forward. Ouranos froze, surprised to feel two sharp horns embedded in his side. Calais pulled out, watched as Ouranos grabbed at the bloody holes he had created. Quickly Calais brought a heavy kick to the side of Ouranos's face, sending the lion down to the ground.
Calais huffed to himself, listening to the crowd as they all went silent. The record was broken, no more flawless victories. Calais waited long enough. He ran up to the hunched form of the lion and brought a leg under him to slam into his stomach. Ouranos, however, grabbed Calais's leg, and heaved him up into the air, then slamming him down hard on his back. Gasping for air, Calais looked up at Ouranos. The tables had turned once again, and though he tried to push himself up, one of Ouranos's paws pressed him hard against the ground.
The crowd came back to life upon seeing their lord turn the fight back into his favor. Calais had lost, and now it was time for the final blow. Ouranos looked at the crowd, seeing the various signs of death. Then he looked down at the bull that laid defeated underneath his foot. "Beg for your life." Ouranos said, attempting to bring Calais into his death trap.
"I will not beg. This game is over, end it already." Calais said, gasping as he felt Ouranos crush his foot down harder onto his stomach.
Ouranos ignored the signs that the crowd gave and removed his foot, bending down to wrap a paw around the youth's neck. With a grunt, Ouranos lifted Calais into the air, his hold cutting off the bull's flow of oxygen. Calais huffed, giving in to the death grip. Ouranos brought him closer, close enough so that his lips were next to his ear. "Play dead and I promise you that I will let you live..." Calais heard the words that the lion said, and could not believe them as the truth. What did he have to lose, however. So, playing along, Calais pretended to fight against the lion's strong grip, and then fell limp. Ouranos shook the seemingly lifeless body in the air before dropping him to the ground. As far as the crowd was concerned, Calais was dead.
The crowd was ecstatic, thunderous roars deafening Ouranos as he stayed long enough to bask in the glory. Once he had his fill, he bent down and wrapped a paw around Calais's ankle. Ouranos walked off of the field, dragging the acting Calais along with him. Ouranos made his way as far down as he could down one of the Colosseum's corridors before letting the bull's ankle go.
"Stand." Ouranos said, looking around for anyone that might be around.
"Ufff.." Calais groaned as he stood up, his muscles tired and his body wrecked. "Why?"
"You are the only one that has never begged for his life." Ouranos simply said, walking closer to the bull. "Not to mention, you bring out emotions in me that I've never felt. Emotions that I demand on feeling more often..." Ouranos brought a large paw up to wipe blood from Calais's face, his paw then wrapping around the back of the bull's neck as he led him on. "Now, just come with me. We must get you cleaned up."
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That's the end of the first chapter. God, I am so happy. I've already said that, I believe. Please, I hope you guys read this, because I am going to admit that I did not proofread this, at all. There are probably mistakes, I am aware of that, so don't give me too much grief on that. I wrote this whole thing in one night, and I rushed so I could get it in before I had to get to bed. So, with that said, I hope to God that you guys liked the first chapter and want to continue on reading when I post more.
There was not much smut in this chapter, but believe me, there will be later on. Oodles and oodles of it.
~DarkHabit