Dedication
Several months later.
~The king and his queen~
"Die! Die! Die! Die!"
An echo of the chant swelled to fade as it travelled across the four corners of the circular Colosseum. A woman wounded in wild ecstasy threw both her arms in the air, a fierce movement which threw her two handful boobs out of the loose gown. A man standing next to her reached out his hand to feel the swell of the inviting mounds, but another standing across from the other side spared a quick punch, which shifted some of the tissues in the former's nose. A fight was birthed. A fight quite mediocre to the death-battle, at its peak, in the midst of the arena.
"His head... his head... his head."
A gladiator bathed in thick sweat and patches of drowsy darkened blood threw his gaze in the directions of the audience who kept telling him what next to do. He was standing over another, who seemed too weak to stand.
After a long millisecond reverence to the crowd, he lifted his heavy left arm, the vambrace tuning to the pumping of the veins and dark rhythms of the swelling muscles.
He let out a deep, loud shout, making his throttle quake as he brought down the sword in his hand in great force. But he slashed the earth, damp from their sweat and blood; the weak gladiator had rolled over. He had put up a charade!
Disappointment fiddled with the motivation of the crowd as the cry of passion began to dwindle and mutters groomed by displeasure stole each corner of the Colosseum.
The weak gladiator was now on one of his knees. His shield holding the balance for the other leg. His sword by his leg.
Beaten by rage and displeasure, the strong gladiator hurried towards the weak with sword poised. The latter knew too well that he had no time to teach his weak arm a hasty trick for picking up the sword, and he was way to weak to make another escape or fall.
He slid his hand into the greave of his left leg and plucked a lone hunting knife.
"Die!!!"
The charging gladiator, like a Bremen bull, called, a host of saliva dripping from his quirky lips.
He brought his sword down in more intense force, falling on the weak gladiator.
For a moment the whole arena was wrapped up in an awkward silence. A silence which advocates for the faint thumping of the numerous jumpy hearts.
The two gladiators remained like that for a while; still like a rock, without moving. A very short while which seemed like an eternity to the audience who were already crushed by the wild knack to howl their celebration.
Suddenly, the strong gladiator rolled over from the weak and remained still, falling on his back.
The same silence and anxious curiosity had the best of the Colosseum again. Not one man knew what best to say to the other.
After a long wait, the weak gladiator raised one of his arms slowly, his right. And then the people howled and shouted in triumph while some booed.
But the celebration was a borrowed glee as the weak gladiator dropped his arm never to move again. Grunts and squawks escaped the throats of the displeased lots.
"Too bad. Too bad."
Vulcan stood up, calling at the people as the newly birthed bickers knew peace at his voice. He was the master of all the gladiators. All he had wanted all his life.
"Those two out there had shown how strong and powerful they are. Much powerful and willful than any of you would be willing to admit because of course you have your favorites."
There was a slight murmur, but he kept on the pace,
"As you know, their deaths are on both their corpses. Every man who joined the forts of my gladiators did it at their own wills. No one was bought by force, nor taken against their wills. But you do know that who ever had joined in glee cannot leave in fear. It's a boat you ride for life until you earn your freedom."
He shot Athena, who was seated beside him, a smile. Aside the two royals seats at the front, there were several other seats behind, which belonged to the king of Aiowa, and few other kings from over the lake and beyond the mountain sides.
Athena nodded him and he looked back at the crowd,
"And you will all agree with me that it was the constant plea of you all that gave birth to this fight. You all wanted blood spilled to open the celebration ad dedication of our Colosseum, newly built palace, ramparts once destroyed by magical creatures, and the bridge of the large lake."
Silence had had the best of the place now.
"And instead of a blood spilled, we have two souls wandering now. Two heroes whose statues shall be placed at the entrance of this arena, as a reward of their bravery and willingness. Their families would be cared for and relieved of taxes forever."
The audience whooped in glee and affirmation. And as soon as that waned out, he continued,
"But before I call upon the love of my life, your queen, who carries the first child of the new generation of I CHÓRA TOU VULCAN, I would love first to introduce all the dignitaries present here."
He turned and started the introduction,
"Amaki of Aiowa. Huga of Hubrim. Kaila of Abranaki. Fuga of Laidioca. Jaigo of Maisterati. Ivanama of Lai Tou Kai Li. Klo of Kretin. And the lovable queens of Kattiput, Kula, Aoiju and Vaila."
As he called at the rulers, they bowed slightly as a rite and honor. Then he turned away to the crowd.
"They have all come to celebrate with us the joy of this day!"
A wave of joyful noise paced the whole place. After the noise knew peace, he stretched both his arms wide in the air and called,
"Now is the time to call on the lovely and powerful queen of I CHÓRA TOU VULCAN. My wife and supporter. The only lady everyone wishes to have. The greatest of the daughters of Zeus. Athena, my love!"
The lively cheer of the audience helped her to her feet, her protruding belly pulling her flowing gown up her legs slightly.
And then suddenly, there was a strong wind in the middle of the arena. Almost at the exact same spot the two dead gladiators who had recently been carrier away were.
The people gasped in shock at the sudden natural disturbance as the wind continued to make a coil of dust up and up, high and high, in the air.
And suddenly, the wind-seal on the coil broke and there was a gentle flow of the dusts suspended momentarily in the air.
And standing in the midst of this dispersing storm was a lady who looked exactly like Athena - a clone. Her eyes seeped in red laser, her hair glowing gold, her gown flawlessly white and her aura evenly majestic.
Each of the audience began to stand up one after the other at the wonder scene till it got to the dignitaries. Even Vulcan for once looked away from the lady to Athena, down her beautifully painted lips to the pregnancy.
"Athena?"
He doubted.
