It Rained Red Upon the Arena by Kenneth Champion Page A

grabbed his dinner, and sat at an empty table. He sat alone for mere moments before a muscular Paplon sat down at his table. Nick had seen the man walking around and at training. He remembered his pale skin and bald head. The man was intimidating to look at; he was tall and had huge bulging muscles. His swing of an axe would terrify anyone paired with him in the arena.
    “I don’t believe we ever met. Who are you?” he asked.
    Nick looked up at the man after avoiding eye contact while he sat down at his table. The man did not sit down with food, he had sat down just for Nick.
    “My name is Nick. What is yours?”
    “Nick. Okay, Nick, let me tell you who I am. I am the man of the arena. I am the man who was born to be here. I run this prison. You might’ve been under the impression that the Refect do, or that the king does. You have been misinformed. Sure, I sleep in a cell, and I fight for my fans in the arena, but don’t let that confuse you. I bring in items from the outside that are banned for the right price. I control who fights who when I wish to do so. I punish those who wish to defy me in any way while we are inside of this prison because I am protected while you are not.”
    Nick listened to the man while he ate his food. He stared blankly as he preached of how important and great the man was.
    After the man’s speech there was a silent pause at the table. Nick broke it by saying, “I don’t know if you heard correctly but I asked you what your name was.”
    The man laughed aloud then said, “It’s not wise to make enemies with a king.”
    The man then got up and left Nick to himself at the table. Nick continued to eat his meal while his heart pounded. He wondered what sort of hornet’s nest he had just kicked. The self proclaimed prison king was the first person to threaten Nick, and he felt alive.
    After dinner Nick traveled back to his cell to sleep as the inmates do every night. Nick closed his eyes to escape the reality of the small rocky cell. He began to daydream of a trip to the outskirts of Vincot’s gates, the sun beaming down upon him. How he missed the brisk air and warmth of the sun. He walked on the grassy plane, which led to a river, and there he sat. Birds flew by in flocks, fish climbed to the surface of the water, and the wind moved leaves subtly. He lay in his cell and his only escape was his imagination. He knew that no one could ever take away his dreams and his imagination. While his eyes were shut, thinking vividly of his fantasy, Nick drifted off into a slumber.
    Nick woke up to the familiar sound of keys unlocking his cell. A Refect stood at the cell entrance. There were no familiar sounds of other inmates getting out of their cells as the morning breakfast routine demands. There was silence and a Refect who then whispered, “Get up, Nick, you have a meeting scheduled. Follow me.”
    Nick sprung up from his back and onto his feet. He followed the Refect through a path Nick was not familiar with. There were candles spread evenly on the walls that lit up the hallway. As he walked he noticed the hall seemed to stretch down quite a long ways. About half way down the Refect stopped and opened a door and signaled Nick to walk in. Though he was hesitant at first, Nick stepped into the room; the door shut and locked behind him.
    The man who stood before him was the same man who had sat at his table during dinner. There were no Refect in the small room, just Nick and the man. The room was filled bagged goods, and lit with candles.
    “You should look to make friends, not enemies,” the man said with a smile. “I thought we could meet up tonight to have a little meeting to remind you who it is that you disrespected earlier tonight. As you can see, I have friends here, powerful friends. I have talked to a few of those friends and have arranged both of our next fights after our upcoming ones. Yes, it will be you and me fighting in three weeks time in the arena. Although you could save