Marina stumbled into her house, horrendous flashbacks flooding her mind with no relent. Her own mind had become her greatest source of emotional pain. She curled into her bed and let it all unfold, all of the horrors the Chrysant War played out in her head for that single unfathomable year.
Fourteen yeah old Marina was thrown into the pit, barely fully trained she was now fighting for her life against friends she had made in her cell. She donned two axes, tears streaming down her eyes as she went to attack other unlucky prisoners that had been scavenged by the Maraya. And they fought back. This surprised Marina, for whatever reason she expected them not to fight back but she was wrong.
The Allar's blade came apron her, the allars name was Szzilvarra. They had been close friends now pit against each other. She brought her axe up to parry this, the sword bounced off the axe as the other one came around to the allars neck. Szzilvarra's eyes went wide as the axe imbed itself in her neck, falling over immidiately. The crowd roared in bravado, urging the barbaric fighting to continue.
An old Ailor came to Marina, feebly swinging his blade for her stomach, she then went to throw her axe for his chest before the blade made contact. It hit, the man fell over dead immidiately, probably grateful for all of this to be over. Marina would not be so lucky, her will to live was too strong.
With those two dead something happened, the creaking of a gate opened to produce a tribe of Maraya, fit with spears and shields. They were thin, but not to thin to the point of starving, merely hungry. Five in total eyed Marina, speaking gibberish as they clumsily charged forward. They may have been fast and graceful in the water, but on land? They were simply ineffective at fighting. It was a massacre, Marina had made sure to swiftly kill all of them.
Marina was now fifteen, pretty much self trained but not really like that of a Great Oak, more of a mix between tribal fighting and Great Oak Knight training. Ailor burst into the Maraya gladiator encampment, slaughtering Maraya left and right, retrieving Marina and other Ailor slaves. Bloodbath ensued behind her as she was whisked off to the base of operation. The war had ended.
Marina lay in her bed, decades later and still crying over the same thing. She never recovered from this and likely ever would. This is the Gladiator Knight, the one that has been kidnapped twice now and lay here. And she still went on to fight in the First Songaskian War.
(Short Little thing, hope you enjoyed!)
