» Thu Sep 15, 2011 7:17 pm Please note that this chapter is an introductory and maybe a little short. Also note that construction criticism is welcomed (if not encouraged) as always.
The Forgotten Tribes of the Mojave
Chapter 1: Shadow
My head was pounding; I had been knocked around quite a bit, both physically and emotionally. There was a ringing in my ear which would grow louder than fade with every passing moment. Blotches of darkness would appear as I looked up at the crowd. I was going to pass out at any moment. Focusing on my breathing -which had been erratic- slowly I began to regain control and my mind began to return to reality.
As the feeling of losing consciousness drifted away, the immense roar of the crowd returned and for a moment I took it all in. The noise of the Colusseum was something I could never grow used to. A soldier had once told me that there was only one other time in his life where he had heard such a deafening roar and that was during battle. I laughed and told him it was because the Colusseum and war had the same outcome, death. The soldier chuckled and in return he granted me only 6 lashings instead of the usual 12. Glory days.
But their applause did nothing but make me question my morals. A small part of me wished to embrace their cheers and praises; I wished to become the hero that they rooted for. On the other hand I never could fully immerse myself with the delusion of heroism as I feared that doing so would remove the last strip of humanity left within me. While the crowd cheered for me, inside I wept for my humanity.
My attention was then drawn away from the citizens of the Legion as Caesar stood. His face, wearied by age, remained untouched by emotion as his hands raised simultaneously to quiet down the crowd.
“Well, we have an unexpected turn of events within these walls,” his head panned around the stadium as he addressed the crowd, “As promised, I have given you a fight to remember and a new champion has been crowned.”
He paused for dramatic effect as the crowd let off a quick cheer.
“But before we usher in a new champion, I wish to know what shall become of our previous one?”
Caesar’s voice was as commanding and powerful as ever. Once again the Colusseum erupted, this time with a mixed response. Part of the crowd cheered while the others booed, it was impossible to tell which side had the upper hand. Caesar motioned for silence as the two sitting closest to him rose. Looking to his right, Lanius spoke first.
“Death will be the only absolution,”
Lanius; I had seen robots with more personality. There was never a change in his attitude or even his tone. He sounded as if his soul had been ripped out through his mouth, souring his voice box for the rest of time. As I looked upon him I almost felt bad as he was and forever would be the shell of a human being.
Caesar appeared as if he was in deep thought about his decision, taking in the opinion of Lanius. Had I not been the centre of attention I would have laughed in his face, the fate of the old champion was set in stone even before our swords crossed paths. He was always going to die; the act was merely for the crowd’s entertainment
As the Emperor turned to his right to address the second man to stand, I could feel my heart fill with a fiery rage. My grip on the butt end of my sword tightened to the point where I felt my knuckles turn white. I dipped my head in an attempt to hide my rage from the Colusseum. The man’s name was Octavian and he led the Praetorian Guards, the personal body guards of Caesar. However he was not always leader of the guards, once upon a time he had been a lowly courier whose heart swelled with vengeance after his attempted murder. Now he was responsible for so much more.
“Our champion fought with such virility and passion. He should be given a chance to reclaim his title, let him live.”
This time I scoffed under my breath as the charade continued. The crowd roared with pleasure as Caesar came to his ‘decision’.
“I do have to agree with Octavian, our champion did fight with bravery and such an esteemed career deserves to have some reward. At the same time, is it not reward enough to die a quick and painless death considering the history of this man? I believe that this death is one of honour.”
Caesar, lifting his right hand, stuck out his thumb to the side. In slow motion I watched it turn towards the ground. It was the signal to finish the job but I was not sure I could do it. I could feel my legs begin to buckle beneath me as queasiness set in. I forced my mind into taking control, making an attempt to become emotionally numb but it was futile. My feelings towards the old champion were too strong to overpower. I would have to live with this death forever.
My focus began to shift between Caesar and the crowd, who once again roared with excitement as if they too had always known the outcome of the old champion. I knew what I had to do.
I looked down, the old champion lay at my feet; I had bested him in battle. Under my right foot I could feel his chest slowly rise and fall as his breath slowly grew weaker. I watched as blood slowly oozed from the wound in his stomach.
“He can be saved,” I thought, “A doctor can save this man,”
I shook it off; if I didn’t kill him Caesar would have both of us killed. More lives wasted for the purpose of entertainment.
I lifted my foot from his chest, raising my sword above my head. In that moment I could see his eyes move under his closed lids, slowly he regained consciousness. Even with his eyelids half open his gaze bore a hole through my eyes, deep into the back of my skull. I had known this man a long time, he was something of a mentor or even a father figure towards me, but for as long as I had known him, pain had always filled his eyes. For the first time, I saw it all wash away.
He produced a weak smile, something which I had seen him do only once before. It was when I had first met him as I child, I had never been more frightened in my life but that smile was so reassuring. It said what his words couldn’t, that everything was going to be alright. Tears began to well in my eyes as I smiled back.
“I’m so sorry Boone,” I said.
Nothing was said in return he simply closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. I brought my sword down hard and fast, piercing his chest with ease. There was no more noise, his chest ceased to rise and fall, the crowds cheer became white noise and I watched as an outline of his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
But that smile, it remained, as reassuring as ever.
I stood there for a moment tightly gripping the handle of my sword, trying to come to terms with what I had done. I felt the droplets of tears hit my hands as I stood over Boone’s body. Letting go of the sword I stepped back. I tried to think, I tried to do anything but my body only crumpled under the weight of my emotion. Falling to my knee’s my weeping turn into a light sob. I no longer wept for Boone; I had given him peace he had sought after for so long. I now wept for me as I knew the last of my humanity died with that man.
I was now true to my name, nothing but a Shadow of a man.
