Chapter 4: Chapter 3 – Last Combat

Aster waited for the gate to rise with a hint of apprehension. Whatever the outcome, this was his last fight. Raviel had had no choice when Mordax imposed this the day before.

***

Rattles of voices echoed in the hallway. Leaning against the wall, Aster barely shuddered. Obviously, Mordax disapproved of Raviel's request. It surprised him all the same that the owner allowed himself to raise his voice in front of a patrician. Finally, the door swung open and Mordax glared at him.

“Your last fight will be tomorrow. You will then join your new master. If you're still alive.” He said.

He didn't wait for an answer and stormed off. Aster watched him disappear suspiciously. He feared that Mordax would bring his anger upon him.

“I am sorry. I couldn't convince him to complete the transaction today.”

Aster turned around. Raviel stood in the doorway, his face inexpressive. Behind him, Mel seemed furious. The conversation had turned out to be particularly heated, and only the mention of the emperor had sealed the deal. Mordax could only bow, but reluctantly. However, he had set a condition. In view of the money invested, he demanded that Aster fight the next day. Raviel had been forced to accept.

“You upset him.”

“I know. I hope his anger won't fall on you.”

Aster shrugged indifferently.

“I will not hold you longer, I guess you still have things to do.”

Raviel took several steps down the hallway, past Aster. The latter hesitated for a moment before saying:

“And if I do not survive the fight that awaits me?”

Raviel stopped and half turned his head.

“I doubt that would be the case.”

He looked confidently at Aster.

“See you tomorrow.”

Sure enough, Mordax had taken his anger out on him. After having confronted him under the pretext of training him, Aster's body was still sore from the violence of the blows. Moreover, he had locked him in his cell, depriving him of a healthy meal. Hunger twisted his stomach, and breathing seemed more labored as if one of his ribs had been damaged. He sat up, and his hand tightened its grip on his trident. For once, he was also holding a net. He had a bad feeling.

The gladiator found it hard to understand why Raviel seemed so keen on buying him back. But the young man had seemed sincere. Deep down, it didn't matter to him anyway. He had no intention of waiting patiently for the goodwill of the patrician if he survived.

The heavy gates suddenly lifted, interrupting his train of thought. Like two days before, he advanced towards the center of the arena. Beneath the leather of his sandals, the sand still seemed just as hot, and the cries around him were still just as deafening. Despite the size of the Grand Amphitheater and the thousands of people gathered there, it didn't take him long to spot Raviel. His hair shone like white gold.

Aster looked back at the entrance on the other side of the arena… And his heart skipped a beat. Three men were advancing in his direction. A quick glance to his right told him two new opponents had also appeared. They would therefore be six to face each other. Mordax was careful not to give him this information.

They reached the center of the arena, and Aster barely heard himself greet the Emperor. His heartbeat echoed in his head in a totally haphazard way. The fight promised to be a bloodbath.

***

Sitting on the bleachers, Raviel stiffened. Five opponents to fight… That was a lot.

"Are you sure he will survive?" Mel muttered worriedly.

Raviel didn't have time to answer. The fourth gate rose, and a roar echoed through the Great Amphitheater. Two beasts appeared, looking formidable.

“Master…”

“He will survive,” Raviel replied.

His eyes slid to the Emperor, seated in the lower zone. The latter turned his head very briefly towards him. Then he looked back at the burning sand of the arena and announced the start of the fight in a loud voice.

Raviel saw Aster leap fiercely, and the sound of his trident hitting the shield of one of his opponents reverberated throughout the Great Amphitheater. The strange feeling he had already experienced two days earlier invaded him again and he frowned.

"Watch him," he whispered to Mel. “What do you think of his moves?

Aster spun around and lunged forward. One of his adversaries collapsed, his throat pierced by the trident. The crowd howled.

“He is fast…”

Raviel nodded. He had noticed it the first time. Aster moved with exceptional speed and coupled that with remarkable, beastly punching power. Faced with this vision, Raviel felt an unpleasant feeling of deja vu. Mel's eyes widened slightly.

“Do you think that…”

She left her sentence hanging. Anyone could hear her, despite the commotion. It was better to be careful.

“I have some doubts. But that would provide the beginning of an answer to what I have seen.”

The snippets of images he had seen in his vision kept coming back to him and raised a number of questions. Why was Aster there? Why did he seem to protect him? Who was the man he was up against? And above all, where did the overwhelming magic come from that Raviel had felt in the depths of his body and which strangely reminded him of something?

"But how is that possible? He is not of Massallian origin…”

"I don't know," Raviel replied.

He was facing a real mystery.

***

In the center of the arena, Aster deployed all his talent. His feet threw grains of sand around him with each movement. His trident ripped through the skin of another of his opponents before he could do anything. Blood spattered the sand. A third was devoured by one of the beasts, leaving behind only a shredded body. In retaliation, the two remaining gladiators cut the beast to pieces to the cheers of the crowd.

Aster gasped, his skin dripping with sweat. Fatigue was beginning to creep in, and his body was getting heavier. He saw the second beast step back with a growl when a sword wounded him. The last gladiators then turned to him. They had clearly chosen to join forces, the time to deal with Aster.

He tightened the grip of his fingers on the handle of his trident. He faced two experts in chasing down their opponents. They rushed towards him in a beautiful ensemble, and their swords split forward. Aster dodged one and barely managed to parry the other, but he was forced to take several steps back. He twirled his weapon and delivered a brutal blow at one of his opponents, but the trident slammed into the broad shield with a crash.

Aster gritted his teeth. Only his excellent reflexes saved him from being skewered by the sword of his second adversary. The weapon got tangled in the net that Aster had brandished, and when he pulled on it, the sword fell into the sand. He wasted no time and moved to the side, ready to stab whoever attacked him.

Suddenly, searing pain shot through his leg, and it bent under his weight. A long gash ran down his calf. He rolled on the ground to avoid the blow of the sword which crashed into the sand, where he had been a moment before. His heart was beating wildly, and a red veil briefly covered his sight. One of the two gladiators approached, intending to end it.

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Aster let him, silently counting in his head to ease the anguish that twisted his stomach. Then, he suddenly grabbed a handful of sand and threw it in his opponent's face. Despite the helmet he wore, grains must have seeped into the fine slits, because he stopped abruptly. Continuing his movement, Aster stood up, and his weapon found the cracks in the armor. Blood squirted and spattered him.

The body barely had time to hit the ground when Aster leaped furiously, ignoring the pain throbbing in his leg. The last gladiator could just take a step back, and the trident pierced him. The scene only lasted a few moments.

Aster turned to the injured beast as the howls filled his ears. He advanced towards the animal, limping slightly, but the beast did not move. Aster hesitated. Was the beast too injured to pounce or was it waiting for him to come close enough to tear him to pieces?

The beast took a few wobbly steps, then he lay down in front of him. It froze, and silence suddenly filled the Great Amphitheater. A warm breeze swept the sand and sent grains flying, spreading around the metallic smell of the blood that had just flowed. Alone in the middle of the arena, Aster hesitated to raise his weapon. The beast looked at him with gentle resignation.

“Death! Death! Death!”

All the voices seemed to take up these words like an echo. Aster briefly closed his eyes. He hated this bloodthirsty and violent society. But he didn't have the luxury of hesitating, so he took a step forward, and his trident sliced ​​through the air.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

***

Raviel was waiting in the courtyard of the gladiator school, his arms folded across his chest. At his side, Mel did not speak. Raviel's anger was palpable, and she knew that in those moments he preferred to remain silent. After an interminable wait, Mordax and Aster appeared in the courtyard. Raviel let them approach before launching in an icy voice:

"You hid from me that you were trying to send him to his death."

Mordax raised a mocking eyebrow.

“He shouldn't have taken part in this fight; it's true. But I had to arrange for it to bring me a larger sum than initially planned since you decided to take him away from me.”

Behind him, Aster clenched his fists and refrained from interrupting him. Mordax was his master for a few more long minutes and therefore had power over him. He suddenly turned to him and motioned for him to come closer. Aster complied with suspicion… And gasped in surprise when Mordax knocked him to his knees with a well-placed blow. Raviel took a step forward, looking furious, but Mordax roughly grabbed Aster's chestnut hair to force him to raise his head.

"I have to give in to your little trick since it is the Emperor's will…”

Aster's eyes darted sharply towards Raviel. The Emperor… Raviel had brought in the Emperor…

“But it's still mine until we complete the transaction. I, therefore, ask you to put aside your dissatisfaction if you wish to close this deal quickly.”

Raviel glared at him but froze.

"Very well," he replied through gritted teeth. “Let him go, and we can finalize this transaction.”

Mordax sketched a mocking smile and firmed his grip on Aster's hair. The gladiator held back a grimace but didn't dare break his hold.

“I'm curious... Why do you want him so much?”

Mordax looked down at Aster.

“It's true that he has a certain charm... Are the rumors correct?”

Raviel tensed violently and took another step forward.

"I'm looking for a slave who can protect me," he replied coldly. “His talent is undeniable.”

“I forgot… The little patrician has no Gift…”

Mordax had a mocking smile. Aster was unable to grasp all the stakes of the conversation, which brought him more questions than answers. He also couldn't understand the strange irreverence Mordax was showing. But it must have hit the mark, because Raviel's features, which had remained so impassive the day before, now seemed animated by a cold rage.

"Enough," he hissed.

He made a sign to Mel, who promptly handed him a purse. She didn't say a word but seemed just as furious as Raviel.

“Here is the amount we agreed on.”

Mordax brutally threw Aster at Raviel's feet. The slave barely had time to put his hands on the ground to cushion the shock while his master grabbed the purse. He opened it slowly to check the contents.

“Indeed. I guess he's yours now.” He blurted.

“Perfect,” Raviel replied. “So your presence isn’t needed any longer,” he added sarcastically.

Mordax narrowed his eyes at the way Raviel dismissed him.

“I wonder what the reactions will be when the news spread.“ He said before turning away.

Raviel watched him cross the yard and disappear. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, a clear sign of his annoyance. He waited a few moments before getting down on one knee, a gentler look on his face.

“How are you?” He asked Aster.

The gladiator sat up, a fierce gleam dancing deep in his brown gaze.

"I’m fine, but it is certainly not thanks to you!”

Raviel took his anger without batting an eye. He just stood up and held out a hand to Aster, but the gladiator ignored him.

“I'm reassured to know that your wounds are only superficial.”

Aster didn't answer and slightly turned his head away. If Raviel hadn't gotten involved in all of this, he probably would have been better off.

“Aster.”

Raviel's voice was calm, far from the intonations he had used in front of Mordax. Aster couldn't resist the temptation to look back at the one who now had all power over him.

“I promise you that I will never lay a hand on you, and I won't let anyone hurt you.”

Aster saw an unwavering certainty shining in the young man’s gaze. Raviel wasn't lying.

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