Fight for Life

I'm putting up the stuff I wrote on holiday. This is the longest, and maybe the start of a new series; I'm not sure if I'll continue them, though.

Fight for Life

                Sometimes, you can't afford something you need to live. For instance, an operation to remove a broken kidney that's flooding your body with crap and slowly killing your other one. It could happen, if you're not insured properly.

                Omar was an example of just such a situation. Exactly such a situation, in fact. He desperately needed the money so he did what desperate people do. He made a deal with the devil.

                A literal devil, in this case. He bound his soul to the service of the monstrous ruler of a hell-plane in exchange for the quick buck he needed. There wasn't much forward thought involved - he needed the operation to live. If he could just get over this one hurdle, he had at least five more decades ahead!

                He died on the operating table. A mistake on the surgeon's part - a scalpel slipping into flesh after cutting what was needed. Just one major vein. But with Omar weakened from months of living with his toxic kidney it was enough to kill.

                When Omar woke up, he was somewhere very different.

                The very first thing Omar did was blink. Wherever he was, he'd appeared with his eyes wide open. The ceiling - there was a ceiling - seemed to be made of dull red stone. The illumination seemed patchy; a look to the side let him spot a candelabra adorned with flaming candles. Looking further, he saw that the room extended pretty far - and that beside him was another person, who also seemed to have just come to her senses. She was wearing a simple smock. Omar realised he was wearing one as well.

                On his other side, three people in a line. In front and behind, more rows. There were about forty people in the room in total, and all seemed to be in their twenties (like Omar himself). Despite the number of people, they were almost a speck in the room - there was room for thousands of people lying down, let alone standing.

                "Alright!" yelled out a voice. "Get on your feet, the lot of you."

                Omar sat up a little to check out the source of the voice. At the far end of the chamber in the direction his feet were point, there stood a heavily armoured man. A very tall, heavily armoured man... He seemed only a little shy of the ceiling, which Omar was pretty sure was a dozen feet up.

                "GET ON YOUR DAMN FEET!" yelled the giant, shocking Omar and many of the others into motion. Soon they were all standing, looking with amazement at the giant. Actually, no - some seemed to be looking at themselves in amazement.

                "I'm young again," muttered one man, intently staring at his hands.

                The giant was striding towards them. "Damn random position spawns," he muttered as he walked.

                Upon reaching them, the giant said, "Quiet your mutterings. All of you should know why you're here - you all made deals with Plonod. You have died, and your souls are his.

                "I am here to welcome you to your new eternity. Whenever you die, so long as your soul belongs to Plonod, you will return here. You are those who have come into his full possession over the last week; however you shall normally be restored faster.

                "Right now, you are slaves to Plonod. You cannot escape him, and if you refuse to work you will be harmed until you comply. We can kill you as much as we like - do not expect to hold out for long.

                "But rejoice! For Plonod needs not only slaves. There is another option. Plonod has created an arena. Fight within it, and win his favour. You may catch his eye and be granted some freedoms in exchange for fighting his enemies. Better still: the champion each year is granted their freedom! Your soul can move on from this place, to wherever it would have gone otherwise. Or whatever else you desire!" The giant seemed pleased with his speech.

                "What if we lose?" asked a woman.

                "Losses are inevitable and acceptable. You will be revived, much as you have been today," said the giant. "The weakest fighters, however, will be removed from the contest. They cannot fight and thus are only useful as slaves."

                "This isn't fair!" yelled a man. "I only lived three months after I got my money!"

                "I only lived a couple of weeks!" yelled Omar.

                "The bargain was struck. If you do not wish to fight, work. You will die from exhaustion. You will die in the arena. Each will be painful. Make your choices now. Then, those who will fight follow me. The rest, follow the worm who should be here by now," said the giant. "But remember: your only chance to live any life of your own again is by fighting."

                "Why am I young again?" asked another man.

                "Plonod prefers that you are at the peak of your physical health," replied the giant. "Unfortunately a few of you who never reached such a peak are before it."

                Omar turned to the people next to him. It seemed natural to discuss the situation, their choice, but... He had no idea who these people were.

                "I'm Julian Lotes," said one man. "I - I don't know."

                "Selma Vert," said the woman who had been beside Omar. "I think we should work. Then escape and get away from here."

                "Didn't you hear him? We can't get away," said another woman. "Carmen. I don't know what to do either."

                "If we can unbind ourselves, though," said Selma.

                "If that's not the goal of every single slave I'd be shocked," said Omar. "I'm Omar, by the way. I'll fight, because at least we can show each other the mercy of a quick death. And it's an arena - we can't be fighting all the time. It'll be easier than working."

                "You'll kill people because you're lazy?" asked Carmen, incredulously.

                "They'll come back. I'll come back. It's more like a computer game," said Omar.

                "I'm pretty sure no-one's invented one that hurts you," said Selma. "But you're on to something, I think."

                "I got used to pain," said Omar.

                "Oh yeah, you're the guy who said he lived for a couple of weeks after his deal. What happened?" asked Julian.

                "I think I died on the operating table. I needed the money for an operation to remove a kidney that had gone wrong, to put it simply. It caused me a lot of pain for months before I got the money," explained Omar.

                Selma, who had been looking thoughtful, suddenly called out to the giant. "If we choose to work, but tire of it, can we fight instead?" she asked.

                "Yes," said the giant. "But you must prove yourself - and you will only get one chance to do so."

                The giant's comments spread through the various clusters people had formed. "Is that your plan, then?" asked Carmen. "See if you can put up with the work, if not fight?"

                "Yes. It's the best I can think of," said Selma.

                "I think I'll just work. They won't intend for us to die of exhaustion. It'll happen by accident. Definitely less often than in an arena," said Julian.

                "I don't want to hurt people," said Carmen. "So work for me as well. Good luck, Omar."

                "Yeah. Probably won't see you again, even if you do drop out of the arena," said Julian.

                "I might see you again, if you keep in it," said Selma. "Maybe."

                "Thanks," said Omar. "I wonder if anyone else is up for it."

                As if on cue (though cutting off many conversations) the giant spoke again. "Alright, make your choices. Follow me to fight! Follow Minguy to work," he said. Beside him stood an ordinary sized man, looking tiny in comparison. Or not quite a man - he seemed to have overly large eyes.

                "Yes, as Maxguy says, follow me to work. It's the less painful choice. But no hope. No hope! Hehehe," said Minguy. He flexed his hands as he spoke; Omar spotted eyeballs in the centre of each. A muttered 'whoa' let him know he wasn't the only one who saw them.

                "Wow he's creepy," said Carmen.

                "He's not that bad, apart from the eyes," said Julian.

                The bound souls started moving, quickly splitting into two groups. Omar headed over to Maxguy as Julian, Selma and Carmen headed to Minguy. Most seemed to be choosing work, rather than a chance in Plonod's arena.

                Maxguy seemed somewhat disappointed. "The test to gain entrance to the arena is not an easy one," he said. "You must fight someone of my girth well enough to impress us. It is not an easy trial!"

                One guy wandered over from Minguy's group. For his part, Minguy didn't seem to care.

                Maxguy twitched. "Very well," he said, scanning the other group.

                Suddenly he saw someone he seemed to recognise. "You!" he said, point at (of all people) Carmen. "You must be Jewel's sister."

                Carmen seemed to know who Maxguy was talking about, but she didn't say anything. "She's a few rounds into the arena. A strong one. Get over here, now," said Maxguy.

                "I don't want to fight," said Carmen. She sounded a bit bothered, and very sincere.

                "Then throw the fights," said Maxguy.

                "Special case girl, get over there," said Minguy. "If we wanna pick we can pick. 'course we usually don't, since those who'll just let the other guy stab 'em - or, Plonod forbid, won't touch each other - are boring as heaven." Minguy's hand-eyes blinked.

                "MOVE!" yelled Maxguy, when Carmen continued to hesitate. From his tone, Omar reckoned that he'd more 'raised his voice a little' than 'yelled', despite the volume.

                Carmen swapped groups slowly, eventually winding up next to Omar. He gave her a consoling smile; a short 'whelp, you tried'.

                "This'll do," muttered Maxguy. His group was still only about a half the size of Minguy's. Omar counted thirteen in total. Maxguy turned with a grunt, then waved at his group to follow.

                "Move, slaves!" said Minguy. "And remember: I've always got an eye on you!"

                The two groups started moving in different directions. Maxguy's was headed for a different door than Minguy's, off to the left rather than ahead. Omar gave one last glance at the other group as he fell into step with Carmen.

                "Your sister made a deal too?" he asked her.

                "Yes," she said. "The same deal, at the same time."

                "What deal?" asked Omar, although he could tell Carmen didn't really want to talk about it.

                She gave him a questioning look, but said, "We were both old; in our seventies. We were too frail to do almost anything. But we wanted to go on a trip around the world. So, we made a deal. Enough health to take the trip. Un - unlike you, we took our trip, then lived fifteen more years."

                "I see," said Omar. He'd been a little surprised at how few had complained about appearing here.

                The group passed through the doorway; Maxguy had to dip his head to get through. The passage on the other side was wide enough for most of the group to walk side by side, although they just straggled behind Maxguy. Omar and Carmen stood roughly at the back, which prevented him from seeing much ahead. Rather than overhanging candelabras the passage was lit by lamps along the walls.

                "Is your sister older or younger?" asked Omar.

                "She's the 'younger' one, but we're twins," said Carmen. "Identical twins."

                "Ohh," said Omar.

                Carmen smiled. "That's how the big guy recognised me, I would think," she said. "Jewel - she died a couple of months ago. I don't know why she chose to fight."

                "Are you looking forward to seeing her again?" asked Omar.

                Carmen sighed. "Yes, if I get the chance. But I'm not sure I will."

                The group began descending a stair case. "You're going to get pretty familiar with this walk," said Maxguy. "This is the fastest path to the arena, where you'll be quartered."

                "Tell me a bit about yourself, Omar?" asked Carmen.

                "Uh, well," said Omar, "I never really got far in life. I had a manager position at a cafe, and I was hoping to take a manager position at a flashy hotel eventually so I'd be paid better. But when my kidney started to go wrong, I wasn't able to work as many hours. My friends and family didn't have the money to help me - not enough."

                "Oh, that's sad," said Carmen.

                The stair case led out into a large hall with what looked like waiting lounges set around the sides. At the far end, a trio of large archways led to what looked like outside - it was lit by something that wasn't on fire, at least. Omar could see another building across what looked like a street.

                "Apart from that, well. I never had time for university. My social life was alright once I started working at the cafe, but for years it was mostly computer games as I tended to work evenings at restaurants," said Omar.

                "Oh, computer games. I heard about those from my nephews and grand-nephews. Did you play one of the ones where you shoot people?" asked Carmen.

                Omar found it pretty weird that Carmen had just careened into old-lady-mode, given that she looked a couple of years younger than he was. "Yes," said Omar, "And a lot of others. MMOs were my favourite."

                "Oh, em-moos? Those sounded fun. Playing a game with lots of other people and being whatever you want," said Carmen with a smile. "I never bothered to understand computers. I saw my grand-nephews playing a speedy game on their 'snuzz' one day. Too much for me! Well." Carmen looked at her hands. "Too much when I was in my seventies."

                "The age thing is weird," said Omar.

                "It does make sense. Though I wonder how old everyone else was? I must be one of the oldest," said Carmen.

                Maxguy led the group through an archway, finally allowing Omar and the rest to see the sky. There were a few muttered wows at what they saw - a seemingly huge sun directly above them.

                "That never moves," said Maxguy, "But it goes out at night. It also tends to burn those without protection quickly, so keep moving."

                Having gotten over the sun, Omar took a look around, and behind. The group had exited roughly in the middle of a long street. Both ends terminated in walls about three kilometres away, and the street itself was a dozen metres across.

                The street was paved with a slightly paler red stone than that used in the building they'd just exited. The buildings lining the street were made from a variety of stones; none seemed to be made of wood. They were tightly packed and three or four stories high. A handful had windows, although all those Omar could see were shuttered tightly.

                Compared to the building the group had just left, the other buildings in the street were quite tame. It towered over them, six stories high and far larger than any other structure Omar could see. Looking along the street, it seemed to cover an entire 'block'. Its architecture was also a lot more fancy; huge archways providing entrances instead of small ones, and simple but intricate patterns decorating the whole.

                There were a handful of people - dots, really - on the street, but they weren't near enough to the group for Omar to see them clearly. On close inspection, one of them definitely seemed a bit longer than a human should be.

                One other thing Omar noticed was that although the air seemed cool, the sun was hot. Very, very hot. He could almost feel it burning his exposed skin already, and he'd only been looking around for twenty seconds. It reminded him of certain summer days, when the sun had seemed like it hoped to set him alight.

                "I'm twenty-five," said Omar. "And honestly, you don't look a day over twenty-three."

                "Haha, oh, you charmer," said Carmen. "Jewel and I looked younger than we were for most of our lives. She liked to claim that we didn't look a day over sixty in our eighties! But, now, if memory serves, we looked twenty-three at twenty-seven."

                Omar found it odd how old Carmen was. She seemed kind of like she was that old, but the way she spoke didn't always scream 'old person!' Maybe it was just that a young woman was saying it, rather than an eighty-something granny.

                "That sun," said Carmen, fanning herself with one hand.

                "I might even be happy to get to the arena," said Omar, also feeling the heat.

                The group reached the end of the city block, and turned left. Up ahead, dominating the end of the street, was a squat structure with several domed rooves. A central dome, twice as tall and wide as the others, dominated.

                "That's the arena there," said Maxguy. "The minor arenas are under the small domes; the major one is under the big dome. You won't be seeing the major arena for a while."

                "When we get there," called out Carmen, "Will I be able to see my sister?"

                "Hmmm. I suppose, if she wants to see you," said Maxguy. "She's earned the right."

                Carmen seemed happy with the giant's response. "I didn't really think I'd see her again," she confided to Omar.

                "Have you missed her?" asked Omar.

                "A lot," said Carmen, "Although... I knew we'd end up in the same place eventually, so it wasn't so bad. There just wasn't much for me to do, without her around. We were close."

                "That must've been nice," said Omar.

                "We got each other through our twilight years. Only very rarely would our nieces and nephews visit; we probably reminded them of their parents too much. I would have been very lonely, without Jewel," said Carmen.

                "Do you think she'll be happy to see you?" asked Omar.

                "Of course she will," said Carmen. She seemed completely sure. "I do wonder what she's been up to, if she's reached 'a few rounds in'?"

                "I guess she's been winning," said Omar.

                "But how? She doesn't know how to fight," said Carmen. "Or she didn't."

                "Maybe she's just a natural? You might be, too, if she is," said Omar.

                Carmen smiled. "Maybe. But I think I'll just drop out after I see her," said Carmen. "I don't want to fight."

                The arena loomed in front of them. Up close, it looked almost like a wall - long and nearly featureless, barring the large entranceway. A couple of tall, heavily armoured beings stood guard with axes just inside. One had disproportionately large arms and a three-eyed face, the other no head at all - their face was on their body instead, judging by their armour.

                "Such an eerie place," said Carmen.

                Once they had entered Maxguy guided the group towards the left. Omar was too relieved about getting out of the sun too pay much attention to the entranceway, but it was large and empty. The emptiness of everything was weird.

                As he led them down a smaller corridor (tall enough for Maxguy, but one of the thinnest they had seen) Maxguy said, "Your first fight will be in a few hours, after the sun ceases. It is 'morning' right now - the time before the sun has gone dark. Most work at night, barring a few guards who keep an eye on the city.

                "This is the seventh day - a holiday for most denizens of the city. You have been revived on this day to provided entertainment in the 'morning fights' that introduce new fighters. This morning, you will all have a chance to fight each other - the lesser arenas will be used for this. In the evening, you will participate in some show fights."

                The corridors continued to get smaller; the rooms they passed on the way seemed to be store rooms.

                "You have one week to show your worth, but most fights will be today. At the end of the week you will have your ranked fights; the least amongst you will be sent to work. The rest will be moved into outermost ranking circle," continued Maxguy.

                Maxguy suddenly stopped walking outside a cell. There were several others further along; each looked like it could fit twenty or so people comfortably. The other cells were empty. "Rest, or prepare yourselves for combat," said Maxguy, pulling the cell door open. He indicated that the group should shuffle in.

                Unwilling to anger the giant, they did so. "Good," he said, clicking a padlock shut. "I will approach your sister, woman. She will likely agree to meet you." With that, the giant turned and headed off.

                A few of the would-be fighters sat down, leaning against the surprisingly clean walls of the cell. The rest, however, continued chatting. Omar heard a few snatches of conversation - the odd comment about Jewel, but mostly talking about how they knew a bit of this or that.

                "They all seem enthusiastic," said Carmen, leaning against the cell bars.

                "Really?" asked Omar. No-one actually seemed enthusiastic. A few were... probably trying to make the others think they were tough, but not very well.

                "Given the situation," said Carmen. "Maybe they just don't think they'll get hurt."

                "Everyone here chose to be here. Except you, of course," said Omar. "I'm ready to die for my chance to be free. I don't see the appeal in eternal slavery."

                "Does this place seem eternal to you?" asked Carmen. "Plonod needs soldiers, and workers. The work will change. Perhaps the lord will change. There will be chances, if you wait for them." She sounded pretty sure of herself.

                "Do you know something about this place?" asked Omar.

                "I'm guessing," said Carmen. "My sister will know, though."

                A soft voice came from behind Carmen. "You are the sister of Jewel? Carmen?" it said.

                Carmen turned and looked through the bars; Omar peered around her as well. A very tall and thin woman in a long black robe stood there. Omar hadn't noticed her approach in the slightest.

                "Yes," said Carmen.

                "She will see you. Come," said the woman. She waved a long-fingered hand towards the door.

                "Can I come too?" asked Omar. He was curious - and also figured that this was a good opportunity to find out some useful things about the arena.

                "If the other wills it," said the woman.

                "Why not," said Carmen. "But keep quiet until I'm done!"

                Omar nodded his assent, and the pair of them were let out of the cell by the strange woman. Just after they had slipped through, someone inside noticed. "Hey! Where are they off to?" he called out.

                "They go to see her sister," said the woman. Her soft voice somehow reached right across the cell, and her answer seemed to satisfy the man.

                "Follow in silence," said the woman. She took a couple of steps before Carmen and Omar followed - and those two steps were almost enough for her to disappear completely.

                The silent journey was short, and uneventful. They walked past a few corridors full of empty cells along the way - it seemed that the arena (much like the place Omar had awoken) was greatly under capacity. It made Omar wonder if it was readied for future expansion; or perhaps Plonod had declined in power?

                After the cells they passed store rooms full of weapons; some strange and possibly ineffective. Then they moved into an area filled with what seemed like apartments - several guards walked through the area, but also a couple of unarmed, near-human monsters. Some had scales, a few claws or large muscles. They were an intimidating crowd.

                "Here we are," announced the woman, outside one of the rooms. She knocked gently on the door.

                "Come in!" came a voice. It sounded a lot like Carmen - maybe exactly, Omar wasn't sure.

                "Jewel!" said Carmen, pulling open the door and hopping into the room. She stopped still after a couple of steps.

                Omar stepped in behind her, and saw why she stopped. Relaxing in the room, sprawled over a few beanbags, was a woman whose upper half looked exactly like Carmen. Her lower half was a giant snake.

                "Wh - what?" stammered Carmen, staring.

                'Jewel' straightened up, her coiled tail sliding over several of the beanbags. "Oh, haven't they told you how the arena works yet?" she asked. "Um."

                "What happened to you?" asked Carmen, worried.

                "You can... accept modifications from the 'surgeons' if you do well in your early rounds. It makes it easier to win," said Jewel, sheepishly. "They have a point system for them and everything."

                "But, why?" asked Carmen. "And - why are you fighting?"

                Jewel sidled from side to side, her tail slithering about. "I want to be free," she said. "And I - I figured I could buy your freedom from Plonod if I win. I can. It costs a lot, but... I can do it."

                Carmen seemed satisfied with Jewel's answer, mostly. "The work can't be that bad," she said. "I'm sure we co-"

                "The work is a lot worse than they say," said Jewel. "It does change, but right now... They're digging pipe works underneath the city. There are pockets of acidic gas down there that melt the diggers and worm-beasts that are attracted to the digging noise. The worm beast - they sometimes keep you alive in their nest for weeks, to keep you fresh. And that's just the weird stuff - there are cave-ins and other stuff too."

                "That's horrible!" exclaimed Carmen. "But... I guess I'm not surprised no-one was told."

                Jewel nodded, bobbing slightly on her tail as she did so. "Who's your friend, by the way?" she asked.

                "Oh! This is Omar. He asked if he could come along. He wanted to fight," said Carmen. "I think he wanted to ask you something?"

                Omar nodded. "Yeah, I was hoping to ask you some stuff about the arena," he said.

                "That's okay. We'll probably be interrupted soon though. Um, hug?" asked Jewel, looking to Carmen.

                "Oh!" said Carmen, moving forwards.

                Jewel wriggled herself forwards, in front of her coiled tail. She and Carmen hugged. It was odd to see - identical apart from Jewel's tail and clothes (rather than a smock, she was wearing a shirt). They both seemed happy, though.

                "Why are you fighting, by the way?" asked Jewel, releasing Carmen.

                "The demon - creature? Being that lead us here, Maxguy, he ordered it," said Carmen. "He recognised me because of you."

                "Oh, that was kind of him. Maxguy is one of the managers. His name isn't really Maxguy - he's a native of this place though so his real name is almost unpronounceable," said Jewel.

                "It was a bit weird for a name," said Carmen. "He said you'd been doing well."

                "Yeah," said Jewel. "Do you remember how we did well at archery when we were young? I chose a bow when we were given the choice. I won almost all of my ... 'first' fights. I think you two will start those in a couple of hours. Anyway, after I won those I had a lot of 'modification points'.

                "I asked them about what I could do for speed - I only lost some matches because I was chased down and caught before I hit my opponent. A snake tail was one of the options - one of the more drastic ones, but the fastest by far of those I could 'afford'. So... I chose it."

                "Why?" asked Omar. "Becoming a monster is-"

                Jewel glared at Omar, her tail coiling around in agitation. Strangely, she barely moved despite all the motion. "I have a snake tail. That doesn't make me a monster," said Jewel.

                "But you're not human an-" began Omar.

                "I speak, I think, I breathe, I feel," said Jewel angrily. She slid up to Omar. "That makes me human."

                "I meant, like..." said Omar. "No, I'm sorry. But... Turning parts of your body into something else, not having a human body is..."

                "Necessary," said Jewel.

                "Is it?" asked Carmen. She'd glared at Omar as well, but she seemed curious about Jewel's choice.

                "Yes. To be the best. The others are - they're far beyond human. You've seen Maxguy - you'd have to get very lucky to beat him, if you even had a weapon to pierce his armour. The highest ranked fighters are like that. The strongest are given 'partial freedom' as Plonod's soldiers each year, but more of the same replace them," explained Jewel. "There's no other option."

                "The surgeons can't just... Make you super-human?" asked Omar.

                "No," said Jewel. "There aren't... Magically superior parts. Or, there are, but they aren't much stronger. Size matters. And armour, tough flesh or skin - those won't leave you looking human. I know what you're feeling, though. There are a few fighters who are human, skin-deep. And a handful in the outermost rankings that are unaltered."

                "I'll choose a bow when we pick weapons," said Carmen, "And... Fight. If I get through, will we be able to see each other?"

                "Yes," said Jewel. "We can even train together. There's a few training rooms we can use."

                "I'm not getting a tail, Jewel," said Carmen. "And I remember that you liked nagas."

                Jewel looked a little sheepish. "Only for a bit when we were younger! ... It's just that it's weird, not being the same..." said Jewel.

                "It is," said Carmen. "But it'll be good. Maybe I can get wings?"

                "No," said Jewel. "They're banned. I was told they led to escape attempts and were often unusable anyway because of physics."

                "Can I ask some questions now?" said Omar, hopeful.

                Carmen nodded. "Okay," said Jewel. She still seemed a little angry about Omar's earlier faux pas.

                "I'd like to know where we are - how this place all fits together. We're in Plonod's... realm? But it seems more complicated than that," said Omar.

                "It is," answered Jewel. "It took me a while to find out about it. Plonod and a lot of other powerful beings - I don't think ‘demons’ covers them properly - exist in this place. There are creatures that live here, but they aren't - and can't - become sentient. Even creatures like Maxguy came from somewhere else a long time ago.

                "The most powerful, like Plonod, fight over territory and resources and things. They all want to be king of the castle. Through some sort of ... magic? They communicate with our world, and can make deals and more. Souls bound to them are brought here. Under the right conditions - like in the revival centre - the souls can form new bodies.

                "So where we are specifically is a town Plonod is building to be his capital. Plonod is a newcomer, so 'here' is a terrible place. But it's also why there are opportunities to fight in his army, and why he's willing to offer freedom. A lot of the town is empty, too. But in the coming 'decades' - yes, decades - things will fill up."

                "Thanks," said Omar. "So souls - we can make new bodies under the right conditions? And, no new ones can be made here?"

                "Bodies that match your soul only, and sentient souls cannot form here. If that makes you wonder why everyone seems to be at their physical peak, Plonod tricks all the souls into assuming the age they were healthiest at before their first revival. Or, I was told that - it sounded like a weird process," said Jewel. "And since you're wondering if I come back with my tail: yes. The surgeons alter souls, not bodies."

                Omar nodded as he took the information in. "Thanks," he said.

                "Does that mean you died to get your tail?" asked Carmen, concerned.

                "I died every time I lost a match," said Jewel. "Dozens of times. And sometimes when I won."

                Carmen looked worried. "Are you okay?" she asked.

                "Yes," replied Jewel with a reassuring smile, "I got used to it. Most of the time you die quick. Nobody is a sadist. A flash of pain somewhere it really shouldn't be, then you wake up. There's a small resurrection ward in the arena for the fighters to appear at."

                "Okay," said Carmen. She didn't seem enthused at the prospect of dying.

                "Do you know how the souls... Go to places?" asked Omar.

                "I heard that Plonod controls it, somehow, and that unbound souls are awake rather than being led," said Jewel, "But I don't know if that's-"

                A knock at the door interrupted Jewel as she spoke. "It is time for your visitors to leave," came a voice. It sounded like it was the same woman who had brought them there - she had probably just stood outside the entire time.

                "Alright!" called out Jewel in reply. "You two should leave. They tend to, kill people who don't behave."

                Carmen and Omar made their way swiftly to the door. "I'll see you soon, Jewel!" said Carmen, waving. Omar waved too.

                "Bye bye!" said Jewel. She seemed really, really happy. She probably was.

                The knocker was indeed the same woman that had brought them to Jewel's room. "Follow me back to your cell, and remain quiet," she said, then started walking immediately.

                Omar and Carmen fell into step behind her. Omar's thoughts were stuck on all the questions he'd have liked to ask (what to expect in the first few rounds was especially prominent). Carmen was thinking about Jewel - and whether, maybe, she should have a tail as well. But it was so big! And she loved her legs (especially now she was young again).

                The journey back was again without incident. Omar had a bunch of questions, but he was pretty sure he'd have a chance to ask them or have the answer thrust in his face, possibly in a pointy form.

                Maxguy was standing outside the cell when they returned, and after they had been shuffled in he began to speak. "Since there are only thirteen of you today, the lot of you are up. Ten of you are in normal fights. Jewel's sister gets a two on one - should be good betting," said Maxguy. Omar wondered what they bet with - and how many 'beings' would attend the fights.

                "You, you," said Maxguy, pointing at various people, "You, you, you, you and you are with Lithelady here." He pointed at the tall, thin woman. "The rest of you follow me. The people you're up against are in the other group, so get worrying."

                Luckily (maybe?) Omar was in Carmen's group. Maxguy unlocked the door, and the new 'fighters' trickled out, splitting up as they had been ordered.

                "Why do I have to fight two?" said Carmen to herself as the groups began to move.

                Maxguy overheard her. "Because your sister's the best archer I've ever seen, and she swore that you were just as good. It makes sense - you're identical twins, aintcha? So we give you a bow - nicer bow than you'd normally get, mind - and you try to peg two people. You're lucky and so are your opponents; show fights don't count," said Maxguy. "It's also gunna be the most watched game this morning."

                "That's good, right?" said Omar. Carmen didn't look enthused at the prospect.

                They walked in silence for a while, a conversation amongst three others walking with them the only noise as they went. That trio - a man and two women - were hopeful, and mostly wondering about the weapons they'd be able to choose from. One of the women was particularly enthused about a 'traditional gladiator' net and trident combination. Maxguy snapped at her that it was a stupid idea, and that the arena's main purpose was to find warriors rather than entertainers. Omar smirked.

                "I wonder what the difference between my bow and a normal one is?" pondered Carmen.

                "Probably fancier," said Omar, "Or made out of better materials."

                "Or the normal ones are pieces of crap," said a man. He had been silent as they walked.

                "I'm Carmen," said Carmen, with a little wave.

                "Orlando," said the man, curtly. He seemed ready to fight, which clashed with his stature - he was short and weedy. But vicious, Omar supposed.

                "Omar," said Omar, introducing himself as well. The other three walking with them were too caught up in their conversation to overhear the impromptu introductions.

                "I hope you do well in the two on one," said Orlando, "'cause I know just what to do to get someone who uses a bow."

                "What?" asked Carmen.

                "I bet it's 'run them down'," said Omar at the same time.

                "That's right," said Orlando. "I just need to be careful about getting hit. Your sister should be a nice stepping stone on the way up, too."

                "I don't think you'd be able to catch her, little mouse," said Omar. Orlando glared at him; Carmen laughed.

                "I'm faster than I look," said Orlando.

                "I hope you see my sister some time. She's as fast as she looks," said Carmen. Orlando looked at her in confusion, but Carmen just smiled mysteriously. It was Omar's turn to laugh.

                "I see you two have become great friends so fast," said Orlando. "What'll you do when you have to kill each other?"

                "Um," said Carmen. She seemed off put by the thought; although it must have occurred to her.

                "Fight," said Omar. "Dying isn't forever. I'm pretty sure it's 'not very long', here." Carmen shrugged.

                Orlando grinned viciously. "I wonder..." he said, ominously.

                Luckily, whatever attempt at being 'scary' he had in mind was cut off by Maxguy. "Here we are!" hollered the giant, immediately silencing all conversation. "Human-size weapons stuck together by the slaves a few years back."

                Maxguy pushed open the door to a room. Racks of simple weapons - twisted spears, poorly forged swords and axes, what seemed to be farming implements - filled the room almost completely. A few gaps showed that some of the weapons had been chosen before.

                "Your bow's here. Rest of you go find something you like. No armour until you qualify, so choose wisely," said Maxguy. He waved vaguely to the right of the door when looking at Carmen.

                The group entered the room and started looking around. Omar also sneaked a glance at Carmen's bow. It was nothing like the ramshackle bows resting against a wall nearby - it was made of dark wood, and even its drawstring was of obviously different make. A similarly dark quiver filled with well-fletched arrows sat beside it.

                "That's not fucking fair," said Orlando, noticing the difference in quality.

                "You bitch one more time, and I rip off your face before your fight," said Maxguy. "You ain't gunna die - just have no face until you do."

                Orlando blanched at the prospect, and instead started looking around for a weapon. Omar noticed him looking at the swords. Carmen headed towards her bow, as she went Omar said to her, "I'll come take a look after I find something for myself."

                Omar split off from Carmen so he could wander around looking for that something. There were weapons other than axes and swords - maces, the occasional 'flail' that looked likely to fall apart, even some shields - but no quarter staves. There were pole-arms, even what looked like a bad attempt at a halberd, but no quarter staves.

                Then, near the back, he found a few leaning against the wall. A few were unshod, but most were capped at both ends with a head of metal. Omar tested them, trying to find one that wouldn't break when he walloped someone.

                "That's a shit choice of weapon," said Orlando as he looked through nearby swords.

                "Think what you want," said Omar. He hefted one of the better staves up. He'd be able to wield this one easily enough. Probably.

                Orlando laughed a weaselly little laugh, and moved on to look at more swords. There were a lot of swords, some blatantly too awful to use. Omar made his way back through the many weapons to the front of the room, where an armed Carmen was talking with Maxguy.

                She waved at Omar as he approached. "I think Jewel is his favourite," she said as Omar approached.

                "She's won me a lot of money," said Maxguy. "Almost enough to give up this gig."

                "Cool," said Omar. "I've got my weapon." He hefted up the quarterstaff.

                "Interesting choice," boomed Maxguy. "But do you know how to use it?"

                Omar shook his head. Maxguy smiled. "Well, it's easier to use than a sword," he said. He moved away, abandoning whatever conversation he'd been having with Carmen.

                "What were you talking about with him?" asked Omar.

                "Jewel," said Carmen. "And what my name was. He got disappointed when I said I wouldn't get a tail as well. I - think he was looking forward to a show fight with twin nagas?"

                "Heh," said Omar. "This place is very strange."

                As they talked, the other fighters wandered back. Three, including Orlando, had picked up swords; one had chosen a spear. Omar recognised the spearwoman as the one who'd hoped for a net and trident.

                "You have all chosen your weapons. Good!" said Maxguy, very loudly. "A slave will take you to your arena. When the 'fight' command is given, you will fight your opponent to the death. There are no rules to the fight - kill your opponent, or opponents. Good luck. Ah, Carmen; you will follow me. I am running your fight against the two Lithelady picks."

                Carmen nodded. Five bald men, each with a black cloth tied around their arms, came into the room. The black cloths were strange. They were incredibly dark, and seemed to be slowly moving; almost flowing. Each of the men raised a finger, pointing at a different fighter.

                It was obvious who he had to follow. Omar walked towards the man pointing at him, and followed him when the man began to move as Omar drew close. As he passed Carmen, Omar said, "Good luck!"

                "Good luck," she replied.

                Sort of sadly, Omar thought to himself, I think I'll need it.