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Myrra couldn't help but watch the Chimera- no, Aster, continue his beautiful yet vicious dance one fight after another. He was covered in blood now, both his own and that of those he'd killed. His makeup was ruined, his clothes torn, his fur matted, his hair shaken loose from the tight braid it had been in. Yet despite all that, she still found him absolutely stunning to look at.

Another criminal dropped to the ground in a heap, blood pouring from numerus cuts and gashes that littered their body. Aster backed away from the corpse as guards ran out to remove it from the field. She could tell he was tired from the way his eyes drooped and his arms hung limply at his sides. It wasn't surprising seeing as he'd been fighting nonstop for nearing 2 hours straight.

King Ortho finally stood up, raising his hands up high to quiet the cheering crowd. She thought he was about to announce the conclusion to the event seeing as his fighting slave looked like he was going to collapse from exhaustion any second. She was surprised by what he said next.

“Good people of Idota! Today's arena fights have been as entertaining as usual, but they are not over just yet!" began King Ortho, “As you all know, the rebel group calling themselves White Claw has been a disruptive force for the past 5 years, causing chaos and mayhem in the streets and threatening the safety and security of this great nation!" Ortho clenched his fists in triumph and his expression took on a murderous glee that had Myrra on edge.

“Today though, we strike these rebels a heavy blow as we send one of their leaders, the infamous Mara Dune, into the arena!" The crowd erupted into cheers, the noise so loud that she couldn't even hear herself think. It was much more obvious to her now that the people in the stands were supporters of Ortho and his ideals. She shouldn't have been surprised, every ruler like Ortho had a group of supporters that they would use to stroke their own egos. What better way to stroke one's ego than to fill a stadium with said supporters who would clap and cheer at everything you said.

***

Aster blinked blearily, his eyes barely staying open as he listened to his master speak. Silently he hoped for the king to call today's blood sport to an end, but of course, luck was not on his side.

He perked up a bit as he discovered his next opponent was to be a leader of the rebellion his master so despised. Any time the king received bad news that involved the rebellion, Aster was the one the king took his anger out on. Of course, that wasn't anything new, he had been on the receiving side of his master's ire more times than he could count. Today, though, if he made his performance of killing this rebel a spectacular one, then perhaps the king would show him some mercy, maybe even give him a candle to light up his dark cell.

The gates on the other side of the arena began to grind open, metal scratching against stone as the internal mechanisms raised the heavy metal grate. He could do this, one last fight, he had the strength for it. He had to impress the people, had to impress the king, the diplomat, everyone. He shook himself, dispelling a bit of the fatigue that was starting to grip his body and mind. Yet his thoughts still felt muddy and sluggish. He dropped into a crouch, claws digging into the blood stained sand beneath him as he readied himself.

The gate finished opening and a shadowy figured stood beneath the archway. They looked a lot smaller than he was expecting but he knew not to judge an opponent by their size. He himself was small yet he'd slain orcs easily double his size if not more.

The figure stepped out from underneath the archway and Aster tilted his head in confusion. The afternoon sun revealed the figure to be a relatively young woman. She was pale skinned, thin as a twig, and her face was so gaunt that if it was not for the piercingly blue eyes that stared at him with determination from behind a mess of brown hair, he would have mistook her for a wraith.

As he watched her, however, he took note as she straightened her back and squared her shoulders, holding her head high without a hint of fear or trepidation. That put him on edge instantly as he warily studied the woman from a distance. Most people who entered the arena entered with a strong sense of fear or anger, sometimes both, and sometimes there were the few that simply resigned themselves to their fate. This human though, this woman, she entered with an air of calm collected confidence that made him feel uneasy.

“Beast!" Called an all too familiar voice. Turning his head, he looked up to meet the gaze of the king. Ortho Dexan smiled such a self-satisfied smile that Aster new something was not right, but before he could figure it out what this uncomfortable foreboding feeling was, the king said two simple words. “Kill her."

His world became fuzzy, his thoughts foggier than before, and suddenly all he could think of was following those orders. Of how good it would feel if he just simply let go and followed through with that one simple command. He saw his body moving long before he felt it, saw as his vision tunneled and focused solely on the woman and thought only of tearing her to shreds. Yet he did not feel like himself, it was like he'd been shoved into the back of his mind and could only watch through a window as his body took action without his input.

He sprang into action, darting across the sandy floor at blinding speeds; his muscles screaming at him to stop as he pushed himself faster then he'd ever gone before. Closing the distance second by second, meter by meter, and all he could think about was ripping out the throat of this woman with his fangs! He needed to kill her! Wanted to kill her! It felt good to follow orders; he wanted to feel this good all the time! What would it feel like to complete them though? He could only imagine the euphoria at successfully completing his mission!

He drew closer to the rebel leader, his claws flexing against the sand as he imagined digging them into her warm flesh, his tongue running across his fangs in anticipation of the sweet blood that would soon be upon his lips! His legs burned as he pushed himself to move faster. It wasn't until he was close enough to see the faint smile on her face did his addled mind realize something was off, his body refusing to listen to him as he yelled at it to stop.

Then he heard her speak, and all she said were three simple words that he simply could not understand the meaning of, “I am sorry."

He heard panicked shouts from the crowd, a sharp twang, the whistle of something cutting through the air, and then something hit him in the side of the head and he knew no more.

***

Myrra scowled as she listened to Ortho Dexan.

“Beast!" He called, hands clutching the railing of the royal box, “Kill her." That's when she felt a small burst of arcana, her eyes flicking to Ortho in shock before zeroing in on a faintly glowing ring on his finger. It was elegant and ugly in her opinion. A thick golden band carved with motifs of two intertwining snakes, something that was rather fitting for someone like him. Embedded in the center was a large, bright green gem that glowed faintly for but a moment before the light faded quickly.

She shifted in her seat, sitting up from the improper lounging she had been doing. Something was not right, why did Ortho have an enchanted ring, why did he use it just now? Her gaze followed his back to the arena floor below, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Aster. His eyes were glazed over, as if he was in some kind of trance, and his movements had went from fluid and controlled to a mindless scrambling and jerking. He was like a puppet on strings being controlled by an amateur puppeteer.

She wished she could do something, help that woman down below who stood proudly with such fierce determination, as well as save Aster from this cruel life fate had given him. She looked into the woman's soul, Mara Dune she believed her name was, and had to stifle a gasp at what she found. The woman was the complete opposite of Ortho. Where the king leaned heavily towards chaos, Mara Dune leaned almost completely to the side of harmony.

Eyes widening even further, and hands clenching the arms of her seat so hard her nails dented the wood, a revelation hit her like a falling airship. This woman was the only reason Idota had yet to fall into ruin. She, and most likely her band of rebels, were the only reason the skull was not completely dominating the scales when she had last looked at them back on her airship. She had to stop this! She had to do something! She didn't know this woman personally, but she knew if she died then all hope for Idota would be lost, even if she took out Ortho, if there was no hope left, no harmony, then this nation would be lost and its people would suffer greatly.

Myrra shot to her feet, her hands twitching with building power. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she knew she had to do something! However, before she could even think of what to do next, fearful screaming pierced the air. She watched as dozens of cloaked figures stood up amongst the crowded stands, drawing weapons and rushing the arena, jumping over the railing and into the sandy pit. She heard the very familiar twang of an elven bow, only to watch on in horror as an arrow flew from somewhere in the stands and struck Aster in the side of his head. It was a good shot, she had to admit, and a lucky one too since Aster was almost right on top of the woman.

It took her a moment to process what had just happened though, and once she did, horror over took her. He'd been shot! Aster had been shot! If it wasn't for her self-control she would have vaulted over the railing and rushed to his aid, but she knew she couldn't do that.

He was just a slave. She tried to tell herself. I care not for the death of those he killed; his death should be no different! Yet the words going through her mind felt so fake and she knew deep down she did care. She shouldn't let her emotions get in the way of the mission, the reason she was here was bigger than that boy, bigger than herself even.

“Guards stop them! Do not let them get away! I want that woman brought to me in chains!" Ortho screamed, shaking her from her internal turmoil. His face was almost purple with rage, a vein pulsing prominently as his eyes widened with a crazed glint. It was in that moment that Myrra found Ortho Dexan a lot less beautiful then when she first saw him.

His guards, however, didn't hesitate in following his orders. The gates on either side of the arena opened and a small army of soldiers poured into the sandy pit, surrounding the rebel contingency that had come to save their commander.

Myrra let her power recede and waved for Venallia to back off. The older elf's hand had gone towards her sleeve where her hidden dagger was located, but at Myrra's cautioning wave, she backed off.

“What in the name of Krita is going on here!?" Myrra demanded, finally letting some of her anger out on this pathetic human monarch. Ortho startled and turned around with a look of surprise, like he'd forgotten they were both there.

“Rebels," he growled angrily, gaze moving back to the battle going on in the arena. “It appears they came to save their pathetic leader, but not to worry, my troops shall deal with them swiftly."

“I do hope so, otherwise I might have to find a different trade partner. If I had known you were on the verge of a civil war I'd never have come to begin within," she said sharply. Of course, that wasn't true seeing as she was here to kill the very person in front of her, but she couldn't just create a blade of light and slit his throat. She needed a plan for a transition of power, as well as a backup plan and an escape route incase things didn't go the way she wanted.

And Aster. She needed Aster. The Chimera's strange disconnection to the world and his own soul was… unnatural. It was just wrong, so very wrong, and she needed to find out why. For the good of the world, of course, who knew what something like the boy's strange unbalance could do in the future. It's not because she wanted to look into those beautiful yellow eyes some more, or run her hand through his hair, or stroke his fur, or-

She cut off that train of thought swiftly as she felt her cheeks warm. What in the seven hells was wrong with her? She had better self-control than this! She wasn't some common solider who started thinking with her cunt at the sight of a gorgeous man.

It mattered little now though, Aster was dead. She had seen it with her own eyes; an arrow had hit him in the head! No one could survive something like that. She felt something foreign sprout inside her chest but she refused to deal with emotions she didn't need clouding her thoughts, so she crushed it and forced it down with anger.

There was a flash of irritation on Ortho's face at her words before it was quickly replaced by his sickly sweet roguish smile.

“Of course, Ambassador. Believe me when I say that this ends here," he responds and turns back to watch as his soldiers press the rebels into a small circle, the woman from before being protected by a wall of her loyal followers.

Dozens lay dead across the sandy floor, some were rebel fighters but most were the king's soldiers. It seemed what the rebellion lacked in numbers, they made up for in skill.

The revolutionaries were losing, though, surrounded on all sides with no escape. Swords clashed, pistols fired, and even some magic was being thrown around. If it weren't for the screaming crowd that was scrambling over one another to get out of the stadium, and the fires that broke out from stray magic, one would have no idea that this wasn't part of the show.

That is when Myrra noticed something peculiar happening. The woman from before was drawing something in the sand as her followers held the king's soldiers at bay. By the time she was finished Myrra recognized what she drew as a magic circle, yet the symbols and runes framing the circle were not familiar to her. It wasn't Elvish, human, or even Dwarven.

Her breath caught in her throat and her fists clenched as a rebel broke away from the protective circle, dragging Aster's body with him! What were they doing? Why did they have Aster?

“Stop them!" Roared the king, “They have my slave!"

An arrow soared up from below, aimed straight for the king's face. When it got to within a meter of the box, though, it hit something invisible and was incinerated. A faint red glow hovered in the air where the arrow had struck before fading. The royal box was warded with protective spells, no wonder Ortho hadn't retreated while the rest of the stadium had.

Myrra hated just standing here and watching the events play out, but there wasn't anything she could do without endangering herself, her crew, and putting more suspicion on them then there already was. She was forced to just watch on in confusion and horror.

Another rebel broke off from the circle, running over to the man dragging Aster and helping hoist him over the lines in the sand that made up the magic circle. They placed him in the center before carefully extricating themselves without messing up the meticulously drawn lines and runes.

Myrra focused on Aster, holding her breath as she funneled arcana into her eyes to make her vision sharper. There was no arrow sticking out of the side of his head, just a trickle of blood flowing down his temple. Then a sigh of relief left her as she saw the barest rise and fall of his chest. He was alive but unconscious. If she had been closer his breathing might have been more apparent, or if she enhanced her vision to that of a falcon. She didn't have enough energy to do that, though, not while she was still providing a constant flow of arcana to her light owl familiar who was several leagues away. Hopefully the magical manifestation would reach her aunt soon, it was terribly taxing keeping an open channel from such a distance. She was only able to do so because her status as a Symbol Bearer let her siphon off power from her goddess in an emergency. The backlash was not going to be pleasant though, there was always a price to pay for power.

Myrra watched helplessly as the woman began to chant something she couldn't hear, hands outstretched over the unconscious form of Aster. A few seconds later the magic circle began to glow, the light becoming brighter and brighter, causing the fighting to pause as everyone had to cover their eyes or go blind. Even Myrra had to look away and cut off the arcana she was using to enhance her vision. Finally, there was a brighter flash, the sound of sucking air, and the light disappeared.

“What was that?" She wondered aloud, blinking the spots from her eyes before looking back down. The rebels were gone; a mass of footprints leading off to the gate the rebel leader had come from. Ortho's men were rolling around on the ground clutching at their faces as they bled from their ears, eyes, and nose. Aster was still there, laying in the remains of the magic circle, the sand around him having turned to glass.

“Where did they go!?" Ortho demanded rubbing is eyes as he leaned over the railing and looked around. She was half-tempted to push the king over the side and watch him fall to his death. It was amusing to imagine the king flailing hopelessly as he fell, only to go splat on the floor of the arena where he had sent hundreds to die.

“Well, this does not, in fact, look like it ends here," Myrra said with a small smirk after replaying that image in her mind several more times. “This, Mara Dune I believe it was, has quite a few loyal followers; I'm surprised at their effectiveness."

“Make no mistake, Ambassador, these rebels are nothing more than thugs and hooligans with some fancy magic," he replied with barely concealed annoyance. “They got lucky that is all! They caught me off guard and unprepared for such an attack, next time will be much different."

“Yes, I believe so. We live and learn after all," Myrra replied before adding under her breath, “If there is a next time."

Ortho forced a strained smile onto his face, “Of course, live and learn. Next time I shall be more prepared now that I know what these people are willing to do for their precious leaders. Let us return to the palace and rest, I must make plans to deal with this rebel nuisance once and for all, and I'm sure today has been rather eventful for you as well."

“Indeed, I wouldn't mind retiring to my room to unpack and relax a little," she responded with a fake smile.

“Of course, Ambassador," he said before turning to one of the two guards who had remained by his side when the fighting started. “You!" He snapped.

The guard snapped to attention, “Your Majesty!"

“Get this mess cleaned up and my slave taken back to his cell, if he's dead, throw him in the incinerator."

Myrra felt her eye twitch at that, a strange sensation of anger flaring up inside her at Ortho Dexan's words. She was a seasoned diplomat though, so the only sign of her internal resentment towards the man was a slight pursing of the lips.

“Yes your Majesty!" The guard replied with a bow before running off to do the king's bidding.

“Let us be on our way then," said the king, the remaining guard taking up place ahead of them and leading them back towards the palace proper.