New Zion
Chapter 11: The Chapter mera's Arena

The tumultuous waves slid beneath Cole as the Avians flew him closer to their home city-ship. A massive, oval metal shield faced the coast, and going around it he could see down into the city nestled in its shadow. There were five large structures across the surface of the ship. One had a large field, and barracks.

Another held multiple hangars; another had a cut out hole that went down multiple levels to the ocean. A tall spire reached just beneath where the metal shield would rest, and the top glowed, sending out an energy shield that covered the city. In the centre of the city was a massive circular wall. It was filled with archways, and inside seats hugged the wall, stair casing down to a round dirt arena.

“Is that a Coliseum?” Cole called out to the Avians.

“It is our fighting arena. The crown jewel of the Chimera’s Arena. Avians come from all over to watch these fights,” one responded. They landed on a platform protruding from the side of the ship. The moment they landed the Avians removed Cole’s harness, and promptly handcuffed him.

“What the hell?” Cole exclaimed. One of the Avians quickly put his hand over Cole’s mouth.

“Shut it,” the Avian shot a quick glance in Alkira’s direction. She was talking with an elderly gentleman in a booth. “Remain quiet until you are spoken to. Everyone here thinks that you’re a prisoner and we’d prefer to keep it that way; got it?” he said. Cole nodded. The Avian smiled and removed his hand. “Good. Now, follow me,”

Cole took in a deep breath and followed the Avian. They walked past the elderly Avian and continued into the city. They passed people on the street that looked at Cole with the fascination of a person studying a wild animal in a cage. A teenage girl with brown wings ran up to Cole and started inspecting him. She looked up at him for a moment, then ran towards the Avian that had spoken to Cole on the platform.

“Brother!” she said to him. He looked down at her and smiled. He then began speaking in a language foreign to Cole. She responded in kind and gave him a hug. They continued marching Cole forwards. The buildings around him were styled similar to that of ancient Rome, only made out of metal and concrete. They reached the Coliseum and took Cole through a side gate and down a long flight of stairs where a large number of people waited. Cole looked around. There were Berg Leute, Avians, humans, and even Terra. One of the guards pushed Cole forward.

“Keep moving,” he growled. Cole quickened his pace to keep up. Alkira had disappeared somewhere along the way. They brought Cole through another gate that took him to where a Berg Leute sat. He looked up as they walked in. The brother Avian removed the handcuffs and left with the other Avians. Cole rubbed his wrists as the Berg Leute sized him up.

“What’re you here for?” he asked. Cole shrugged.

“They picked me up on the mainland and brought me here,” Cole said. The Berg Leute grunted.

“Didn’t exactly answer my question. What’s your name?” the Berg Leute asked.

“Cole Avalon. Yours?” Cole said. The Berg Leute raised an eyebrow.

“The Crimson Swordsman? Huh. That explains why they brought you in. My name’s Felix Grayson; you can call me...” Cole’s eyes widened.

“Legion? I remember my dad talking about you. He said that you were one of the strongest Berg Leute he’d ever worked with, second only to Phil,” Legion shrugged.

“Yeah, well, he was one of the scariest men that I’d ever worked with. Your old man is insane,” Legion said. Cole nodded.

“He is a little crazy, I guess. Anyways, why’d they put me with you?” Cole asked. Legion smiled.

“Probably ’cause I’m the only guy here that would show you how to use Avian weaponry and tell you how the battles work. You ready to learn?” Legion said. Cole nodded. “Good. So, first of all, Avian regular weapons look a lot like this,” Legion held up a metal cylinder with a few buttons on it. “Each button has different preset weapons programmed into it. For example, the weapon could be a dagger, a sword, an axe, a twin-blade pole arm, or even a bow.

“They are able to make this work through the use of programmable metal. Obviously, the more buttons you have, the more situations you’ll be ready for, got it?” Legion asked as he held out the cylinder. Cole took the cylinder and examined it. There were only three buttons. He pressed one, but nothing happened. Legion laughed.

“Kid, the weapons aren’t active right now. That would just be stupid on the parts of the Avians. Anyways, that particular handle holds a twin-blade staff and a sword setting. The bottom button resets it back to just being a handle. The Avians will hit a remote kill-switch if you try anything. Now, come on. It’s time to find you some clothes,” Legion said, walking into another room.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Cole asked. Legion scoffed.

“You’re here to entertain the people. That means that you have to have a certain style; not only in the way you fight, but the way you dress as well. It gives the audience something to latch on to, and the more they latch onto you, the more they’ll either hate you or love you. Do one of those two things and you’ll make it through this whole thing alive; assuming you can win,” Legion explained.

Legion unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Pick your poison,” he said. Cole followed Legion into the room, and stared at the mass of colour before him. There were feathered outfits, furs, lavish clothes, sets of armour and more.

“Wow,” Cole managed to mutter. Legion chuckled.

“Yeah, we have a lot of outfits here. Weigh yourself on that scale so that I can zero it,” Legion pointed to a pad on the floor.

“Why?” Cole asked.

“Any one fighter can only carry a specific weight of armour relative to their own weight. For you, you’ve got 10-20 pounds. So, pick your clothes, and then pick your armour pieces. Put on the armour over what you’re wearing right now, and weigh yourself,” Legion said. He smiled, waved one hand over his shoulder as he left the room and added “Crimson Swordsman”.

Cole looked through the room, finally finding a deep red long-coat with bright red trim, a dark red shirt and jeans. Walking over to the armour shelves, he found some shoulder, arm and leg braces, and then a small metal plate to protect his heart. After weighing himself, he found he weighed too much. He put the shoulder braces back and found that he was now the right weight. He got dressed and walked out to meet Legion.

“You’re on par for your name, I suppose. C’mon, it’s time for you to see how the fights work,” Legion led Cole through corridors lit by holographic torches. The only windows looked out to the arena, and runed pillars were placed decoratively along the path. They went up a set of stairs and looked out an opening. “Here you go,” Cole stepped up and looked down on the arena. People from all the different species fought, the sand soaked in blood. The Royal Box had a metal awning, keeping the sun off of the occupants and concealing them from the viewing area.

“So it’s already started, huh?” Cole asked. Legion placed his hands on the railing.

“Yeah. There are six blocks, and about twenty people per block. The last man, or woman, standing moves on to the final battle. After winning the final round, you win your freedom. If you want more, then you can ask for anything, within reason, and fight the forsaken army. Of course, only a few people have fought in that and won. This year for the forsaken army fight, however, the gladiator will be tied to someone else, and they will have to win that way. Both will get their wish,” Legion explained.

“Do they get to choose who they get tied to?” Cole asked as a Berg Leute pounded on a Terra’s chest, crushing its rib-cage. It swiped at the Berg Leute, scratching up his forearms.

“Inquisitive one, aren’t you? Only if the crowd likes you enough. Like I said before: win over the crowd, and you’ll win the battles,” Legion said. Cole leaned against the railing.

“So, as a Berg Leute, how did you make it to being the quartermaster here?” Cole asked. Legion continued watching the battle.

“Well, I was kidnapped, and when I had won my freedom, I decided to do something good with my capture, and went up against the forsaken army. I won, and my request was to gain the entire history of the Avians. Of course, there was a condition: that I serve as a quartermaster here for twenty years,” Legion said.

“Twenty years? That’s doesn’t quite seem fair,” Cole said. Legion smiled.

“Well, I am asking for thousands of theirs. Besides, I wanted to read over as much of the data as I could before taking it back, and with how much they have, it would take one person well over twenty years to study,” Legion said. Cole shook his head.

“Well, at least I’ll be out of school before they start adding Avian history courses,” Cole said, Legion laughed.

“Yeah. Well, you’re block is up next. Let’s get you to the gates,” Legion said, leaving the railing and walking back the way they’d come. Cole took one last look at the arena before following Legion. There seemed to be a pretty even mixture of red and yellow sand.

Beams of light shone through the metal bars that separated the gladiators from the arena. Many of the warriors shuffled, itchy for a fight. A few near the front had tried to get to the back, but were barred off by the rest of the group. Cole leaned against the wall. He yawned as one of the front guys tried again to get to the back. Cole reached up to his ear and adjusted a piece of metal there.

“Well now, wasn’t that a spectacle! What do you say: should he keep going?” The voice from the loudspeaker was answered with thunderous applause and cheering. “Well, First-Mate Harikēn, the choice is yours until the Captain returns. Does he continue?” the noise heightened, but quickly fell silent. Some of the other gladiators leaned forward, their hands twitching as they held their weapons. One near the front held up three fingers, slowing curling them into a fist, one at a time.

The crowd erupted, and the gate opened as a lone fighter walked through it. The gladiators quickly parted, allowing him to walk through. Cole looked up at the Berg Leute. Blood trickled off of his armour pieces, his hands were stained red, and the hair on his arms was matte with dried blood. He looked down at Cole and smiled, letting out a short bark of a laugh before continuing.

“It’s time for the third block to take the stage!” the crowd didn’t let up “And the Captain has returned!” the announcer said, the crowd growing louder. Avian guards at the back started pushing the gladiator’s forwards. Cole pushed off the wall and followed the rest of the gladiators out into the arena. The bodies of the previous block were left in place, along with their weapons. Twenty circles lit up in the sand, each one purple coloured.

The gladiators took their places on the circles, and each one turned blue as they did so. Cole pressed his handle, turning it into a twin-blade. The other gladiators followed suit. All the gladiators turned to face a silver throne, inset by a luminous metal in the center of the Royal Box. Cole looked up at it, and froze. Alkira Jovana stood in front of the throne, raising her arms like a victorious fighter. She looked down to the arena, and when her eyes met Coles, she smiled.

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