The Arena

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When morning came, Alera woke up more tired than she was when she fell asleep. She barely closed a wink with the horrible dreams that plagued her mind. She kept dreaming she fell in a dark bottomless pit, jerking awake at the final moment. And when she didn't dream about falling, she dreamt about Asendriel, each dream ending with him breathing his last breath, all alone in the Black chamber. Tellor gripped her hand and she heard him, as if he was next to her, whispering in her ear:

‘How are you feeling? You barely got any sleep.’

‘I'm sorry’, she apologised, realising she had kept him awake as well. He probably didn't let go of her hand throughout the entire night.

‘It’s alright. I’m here.’

They remained in silence and Alera stood motionless, looking at their still intertwined hands. Tellor’s hand was warm.

‘Promise me you won’t enter the arena today’, she whispered, gripping his hand.

‘Alera…’, Tellor started, but she wouldn’t hear any of it and cutting him off, she repeated:

‘Promise me!’

She heard him sigh, but he finally caved in and promised her. And it was just in time, as the dungeon doors squeaked terribly, announcing the guards’ presence. The prisoners were all taken out of their cell, including Tellor and Alera remained behind with four guards.
As they walked to the arena, she looked at each of them and remembering her walk from the healing ward back to her cell, she realised that Bruing was being cautious, increasing his guard and grip on the arena and every living soul inside. Usually she would be escorted by one or two guards, but now Baruing had doubled the number. 

And this was applied to other situations as well, she noted as they walked. There were more guards at every entrance and even in her changing chamber. She started changing and looking around the room, she saw no weapons. Her heart felt heavy as she realised she wouldn’t fight today. Deep inside, she actually hoped Baruing had a fight prepared for her today. It didn’t matter who, as long as it wasn’t Tellor, she just needed an excuse to reach the healers.

The guards locked the door behind her and she could hear the crowd cheering. They seemed somehow reluctant, she thought as she approached the cage bars. Probably after yesterday’s incident, the clients didn’t know how to react.

She looked at the empty arena with mixed feelings. Asendriel was not there this time, as it happened on his first day, when he was left there, tied and with no weapons, to face a fighter. This meant that at least for now, he didn’t have to fight. But she wanted to see him. To see him and make sure he was alive.

She looked around the other cages, in hope to, at least, spot Tellor. He was a few cages away, looking at her.

Baruing’s voice came from above, but Alera didn’t listen. Two fighters she had never seen before entered the arena and started fighting. The sounds were mixing together, cheers, boos and metal clashing, but everything seemed far away and Alera hoped, until the last sun ray lay down after the horizon, that she would get to fight.

But Baruing never called her.

Tellor kept his promise and didn’t join the fights so, that night, they both made it back to their cells with no wounds and no news.

‘Do you think he’s alright?’ Alera asked shyly, resting her hand in Tellor’s palm. The moon was long out, reigning over the night sky.

‘Yes’, Tellor responded without hesitation. 

She nodded silently.

‘Tomorrow. I’m sure I'll be called tomorrow to fight. So please, wait another day, Tellor.’, she whispered, gripping his hand.

‘How can you be so sure? Who knows what that man has in his mind?’

‘I know’, she said, closing her eyes. ‘He wants to lead us to a false sense of security. The moment we make a wrong move, he will use that opportunity to extract his revenge further, be it on you or me. He won’t call us directly, at least you anyway. Instead, he will make it as if it was by our own actions that we meet and fight in the arena.’

Her words left a bad taste in her mouth, as she realised she knew more about Baruing than she had wanted.

The next day, she discovered her daggers, waiting quietly for her in the changing room. Hoping she didn’t have to fight Tellor, she took them and entered her cage. She looked around and there were still no signs of Asendriel, but she spotted Tellor three cages away from her, watching her. She lifted one dagger, trying to show it to him by pretending to search something on the blade, hoping that he would get the message and wouldn’t enter the arena.

Baruing’s voice circled the arena many times and fight after fight took place in the arena, staining the ground red with fresh blood. Alera waited patiently, but at the end of the day, it was clear that she wouldn't reach the healing ward.

‘I don’t understand’, she whispered, confused. ‘This has never happened. Whenever my weapons were there, I had to fight...’

‘Perhaps there was a  mistake?’, Tellor suggested.

‘No…I think he’s waiting for you to join…’

The more she thought about this, the more it made sense. It was in accordance with what Baruing would do.

‘You must not join the fights, Tellor!’ she said adamantly, gripping his hand. ‘If he’s waiting for you, then the moment you step in that arena, he will call me out!’